There is a phrase many teachers know too well: “wearing many hats.” Sometimes it sounds noble. Sometimes it sounds like a fashion disaster. On some days, it feels less like wearing hats and more like juggling helmets while riding a bicycle uphill.
Teaching has never been a one-dimensional profession. A teacher does not simply walk into class, deliver content, and disappear into the mist like a magician after assembly. Teachers plan lessons, mark work, counsel students, manage parents’ concerns, organise events, write reports, attend meetings, sit through professional development sessions, and somehow still remember that Farhan prefers to sit near the fan and Melissa cries when glue gets on her fingers.
Then there is the additional portfolio.
For readers unfamiliar with the system, schools often appoint teachers to take charge of extra responsibilities beyond classroom teaching. One common example is overseeing a CCA, or co-curricular activity. These are student groups that happen after curriculum hours—drama, choir, band, robotics, sports, debate, uniformed groups and more. Students usually opt into CCAs based on interest. In other words, many of them show up because they want to be there. That already changes the energy of the room.
Now, before I continue, let me make an important disclaimer. I am not overgeneralising. There are many outstanding teachers who take on extra portfolios with grace, passion, and astonishing stamina. Nor am I discouraging teachers from stepping forward into additional responsibilities. Schools need people who contribute beyond the classroom. Leadership matters. Service matters. Community matters.
What I am saying is simpler: the matching matters.
Not every teacher should take every portfolio. Not every extra role is suitable for every person. And if a portfolio does not align with one’s interests, strengths, temperament, or capacity, it should be reflected upon seriously before accepting it.
Because when the mismatch happens, students feel it almost immediately.
I am currently collaborating with a particular CCA group, and like many CCA groups, the students are energetic, eager, and emotionally invested. They volunteered their afternoons for this. Nobody dragged them there like they were going for dental appointments. They chose it. They come with curiosity. They come with hope. They come wanting to improve.
Now imagine this group being led by someone who is visibly unmotivated.
Imagine students excited about rehearsal while the teacher-in-charge is calculating how early they can leave. Imagine students proposing ideas while the adult in charge treats enthusiasm like an administrative inconvenience. Imagine a room full of sparks supervised by someone carrying a bucket of water.
Students always know.
They know when an adult loves the craft. They know when an adult is merely surviving the session. They know when shortcuts are being taken. They know when standards are lowered not out of wisdom but out of fatigue or indifference.
Research on student motivation consistently points to the importance of teacher enthusiasm. Patrick, Hisley, and Kempler (2000) found that perceived teacher enthusiasm was associated with increased intrinsic motivation and vitality among students. John Hattie’s synthesis in Visible Learning also identifies teacher credibility, passion, and relationships as significant influences on learning outcomes. Students may not use academic jargon, but they recognise energy when they see it.
This becomes even more important in a CCA context.
In a formal classroom, students may participate because attendance is compulsory. In a CCA, participation is often sustained by interest, belonging, and emotional connection. Educational theorists Edward Deci and Richard Ryan, through Self-Determination Theory, argue that motivation flourishes when three needs are met: autonomy, competence, and relatedness. CCAs naturally lend themselves to these three. Students choose them (autonomy), develop skill (competence), and form bonds (relatedness).
But an uninterested adult can flatten all three.
A disengaged teacher can reduce autonomy by over-controlling or under-supporting. They can stunt competence by settling for mediocrity. They can damage relatedness by making the environment transactional rather than communal.
And then we wonder why students slowly lose interest.
Sometimes the reason is not the students.
Sometimes it is the climate.
Let me be fair here. Teachers are not villains in this story. Many are stretched thin. Workload in education systems globally has been widely discussed, including by OECD reports and UNESCO studies highlighting burnout, administrative burden, and retention challenges. A teacher who appears unmotivated may actually be exhausted. A teacher taking shortcuts may be functioning in survival mode.
So this article is not an attack on teachers.
It is a plea for honest placement and honest reflection.
If someone loves music, perhaps let them lead band, choir, or performance projects where that passion can breathe. If someone enjoys mentoring youth through discipline and leadership, perhaps uniformed groups fit naturally. If someone thrives in movement and competition, sports may be a better match. If someone lights up in storytelling, creativity, and rehearsal rooms, then drama may become more than an assignment—it becomes service through joy.
When interest and responsibility align, students benefit.
The teacher who genuinely enjoys theatre will stay back to refine scenes, not because of KPI points but because the work matters to them. The teacher who loves coding will excitedly troubleshoot with robotics students. The teacher who cares about football will watch game footage voluntarily. These teachers go the extra mile because to them, it does not always feel like an extra mile.
Meanwhile, if someone accepts a portfolio purely to fast-track career progression, titles, or optics, they should ask themselves a difficult question: at whose expense?
Because students are not stepping stones.
A CCA is not a decorative bullet point on a résumé.
It is a living space where young people invest time, identity, vulnerability, and hope.
The Secondary One student joining drama for confidence. The shy clarinet player finally feeling seen. The child who struggles academically but shines in scouts. The teenager who only feels competent on the netball court. These students are not side quests in an adult’s advancement narrative.
They are the point.
There is also a misconception that passion means perfection. It does not. A passionate teacher can still be messy, tired, learning, and imperfect. They may forget props. They may misplace forms. They may accidentally print the wrong schedule and send twenty children to the hall at the wrong time. Human beings happen.
But students usually forgive imperfection when they can feel sincerity.
What they struggle with is apathy.
A teacher who cares but stumbles can still inspire. A teacher who is polished but detached often cannot.
School leaders also have a role here. Allocation of portfolios should not merely be based on vacancies, hierarchy, or who looks free on paper. Capacity and chemistry matter. Interest inventories, professional aspirations, existing strengths, and workload realities should be part of the conversation. Strategic staffing is not indulgence; it is stewardship.
And teachers themselves deserve permission to say, respectfully, “This may not be the best fit for me.”
That sentence is not weakness.
It may be wisdom.
We often praise sacrifice so loudly that we forget discernment. Not every yes is noble. Some yeses create quiet casualties later—burnt-out teachers, neglected students, stagnant programmes.
Sometimes the better contribution is saying yes to the right thing and no to the wrong one.
Students already understand this principle instinctively. They choose CCAs they are interested in because interest fuels commitment. It would be ironic if the adults overseeing those spaces ignored the same truth.
I think often of enthusiastic students arriving after school, hungry to create, compete, rehearse, learn, laugh, and belong. They deserve adults who meet that energy with care. Not necessarily with endless energy—nobody has endless energy—but with genuine care.
The teacher in charge of a CCA is not merely managing attendance or booking venues. They are curating memory. Years later, students may forget worksheets and timetables, but they remember how that space made them feel. They remember whether an adult believed in them. They remember whether someone bothered.
That is no small portfolio.
So yes, take on extra responsibilities if you can. Step up when needed. Grow into leadership. Contribute beyond the classroom.
But please, when possible, choose roles that meet your spirit halfway.
Because when the right teacher meets the right CCA, magic becomes possible.
And when the wrong teacher meets the right students, sometimes the students pay the price.
Written by: Adi Jamaludin
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