Picture this: a Title 1 school with 600 students. One mental health provider (hi, that’s me!). Three towering file cabinets. And one admin who was “pretty sure” the cabinets contained “most” of the student information necessary to do my job.
Oh, and the person before me? They’d abruptly quit in March. This left me to start fresh in August with basically zero handoff.
I’m not sure about you but I don’t remember this scenario from any of my grad school classes.
If you’re a new school social worker or mental health provider, I’m guessing some of this sounds familiar. My first year was a masterclass in learning things the hard way, but I survived – and you can too. Here are the five biggest mistakes I made and how you can dodge them entirely.
1. Not Asking Questions (AKA The Psych Eval Incident)
There it was in my mailbox. It felt like a ticking time bomb. A psych evaluation arrived with no note, no explanation, nothing. I checked my IEP list – the student wasn’t on it. Checked the 504 list – nope, not there either. Naturally, I acted like any overwhelmed first-year. I stuck it in my growing pile of “I have no idea what to do with this” paperwork.
Two months later, a special education teacher stormed into my office. His face was red with fury. He yelled about compensatory services while I sat there fighting back tears. The “random” psych eval turned out to be crucial as it was actually the key to a student’s IEP. Their mom had dropped it off months earlier.
The lesson: Ask questions. Ask ALL the questions. It might feel awkward. It might feel like you’re bothering people. Trust me, it’s way less awkward than getting screamed at two months later. When something doesn’t make sense, don’t just file it away and hope it resolves itself.
2. Flying by the Seat of My Pants (Instead of Making a Schedule)
I’m a “wing it” kind of person by nature. Twenty-five kids needing monthly mental health services? No problem! I’ll just pull them individually whenever I remember until I’ve hit everyone’s minutes.
Spoiler alert: this approach led to me frantically hunting down students on the last day of every month. I was literally begging the SLP to let me borrow “her” student for five minutes. Because I suddenly realized I hadn’t seen them yet.
After the third month of this chaos, she very kindly but firmly told me, “This is their scheduled time with me.” Scheduled time? You mean you actually schedule these things? Revolutionary concept, apparently.
The lesson: Make a schedule and stick to it. I know it seems obvious now, but when you’re putting out fires left and right and getting pulled in seventeen directions, scheduling feels like a luxury. It’s not – it’s a necessity.
3. Being the Yes Person (Instead of Setting Boundaries)

This one was tough for me.
To illustrate:
A teacher wants me to return five first-graders when it just took ten minutes to wrangle them into my office. This is necessary because one student (who isn’t even on my caseload) needs a bathroom escort? “Give me five minutes!”
Another teacher refers fifteen students for “behavior issues”? “Let me get those permission slips ready!”
Seventy-five students suddenly need fidgets? “Send them all to my office!”
I was trying so hard to be helpful that I became the school’s unofficial everything-person. And honestly? It wasn’t helping anyone – not the students, not the teachers, and definitely not me.
The lesson: Learn to say no while you’re still figuring out the job. Use your “I” statements and boundary-setting vocabulary to buy yourself time to observe and understand how things actually work. Trust me, it’s better to set limits upfront. Otherwise, you might take on someone’s entire class and become overwhelmed and resentful. Then, you find yourself having to make awkward phone calls to parents discontinuing services their kids never needed in the first place.
4. Staying Disorganized (Instead of Embracing Systems)

This one’s still a work in progress for me, but I’ve gotten SO much better. In my first year, my organizational system was basically “pile everything somewhere and hope for the best.” Predictably, this did not work out well.
The lesson: Spreadsheets are your friend. Create systems and procedures that give you time to think things through instead of making snap decisions. Your future self will thank you. Here is the spreadsheet I currently use to keep my work life a little more organized.
5. Going It Alone (Instead of Finding Your People)
Remember earlier when that special education teacher was yelling at me about my psych eval mess-up? I was convinced I was the worst mental health provider to ever set foot in a school. I seriously considered resigning that night.
Thankfully, I had connected with the SLP and another special education teacher who became my lifelines. When I confessed my mistake to them, they just shrugged and said, “It happens. You’re doing a great job with the mess you inherited.”
The lesson: Find your people. You need allies who understand what you’re going through. This can include the special education team, a teacher you click with, or other mental health professionals.

Bonus Tips That Saved My Sanity
Meet with your predecessor if possible. I didn’t have this option in my first year. However, at subsequent schools, I always asked for the previous person’s email. Everyone was enthusiastic about meeting. They wanted to share the inside scoop. We discussed which students work well together and which parents I would have to set a timer for. They also gave me the down and dirty of the school culture.
Befriend the front office secretary. Seriously. Bring them coffee, remember their birthday, whatever it takes. They truly run the school and can be your biggest ally or your worst nightmare. They know everything, the principal listens to them, and they can make your life infinitely easier.
The Bottom Line

Your first year is going to be hard. You’re going to make mistakes. Some will be small. Others will make you want to hide under your desk for a week. But here’s what I wish someone had told me: you’re not supposed to have it all figured out yet.
Give yourself permission to ask questions, set boundaries, and learn as you go. The students need you. They need the best version of you. They do not need the overwhelmed, burnt-out version who’s trying to do everything for everyone.
And when you don’t feel like you do, remember that somewhere out there is another first-year school mental health provider. They are googling “how to quit gracefully” at 2 AM, just like I did. We’ve all been there, and most of us not only survived but learned to love this beautifully chaotic job. And I promise, it does get easier.
What mistakes did you make in your first year? What would you tell new school social workers just starting out? Share your wisdom in the comments – we’re all learning together.




