Alright listen. How to become a teacher in the US is still kicking my ass in 2026 and I’m not even done yet. I’m writing this from the world’s loudest apartment in Faridabad at like 10-something in the morning your time, but my brain is permanently stuck in some fluorescent-lit American public school hallway that smells like industrial cleaner and preteen Axe body spray. I started this whole “become a teacher” thing thinking it would be noble and structured. It is neither.
I have cried in my car twice after certification portal crashes. Once because the page timed out after I’d already typed in three years of employment history. Once because it said my transcript evaluation was “pending” for the 47th day in a row. Glamorous? No. Relatable? Probably you too.
Why I’m Even Trying to Figure Out How to Become a Teacher in the US in the First Place
I got tired of PowerPoint decks nobody read. I missed actual humans under 30 who still think fart jokes are peak comedy. Also I watched one too many TikToks of teachers doing calm-down corners with fairy lights and thought “I could do that… right?”
Wrong. The fairy lights part yes. The rest? Brutal learning curve.
Every state does it differently. Every. Single. One. I spent three weeks comparing New York vs Texas vs Florida requirements like I was picking a fantasy football team. Spoiler: nobody wins.
Start here: literally go to your state’s department of education website today. Bookmark it. Set it as your homepage if you have to. I didn’t and I regret it deeply.
Step 1 – The Degree Thing (You Almost Definitely Need One)
Bachelor’s. Minimum. I already had mine (communications, lol, very helpful for writing angry emails to testing companies later).
If you don’t have one, get one in whatever subject you want to teach or just in education. Mine not being education-related meant I had to take like nine extra classes. Nine. I sat through Adolescent Psychology at 8 a.m. on Zoom while eating cold pizza in sweatpants. Character-building, they call it.
Good resource that saved my sanity more than once: Teach.org – Start Here. Clean, no upselling, actually helpful breakdowns.
Step 2 – Teacher Prep Program or GTFO
This is where “how to become a teacher in the US” starts feeling like a hunger game.
Option A: Traditional university program. Longer, more expensive, structured.
Option B: Alternative certification / post-baccalaureate program. Faster, cheaper-ish, lets you teach sooner while finishing coursework.
I went alternative because adult bills don’t wait for four semesters of theory. I’m currently in a program that has me teaching three days a week while taking night classes. My sleep schedule looks like modern art.
Student teaching is the part everyone warns you about and they’re right. Thirty kids, one me, zero chill. The first time a 7th grader asked if I was “old enough to be here” I almost quit on the spot. Smelled like mechanical pencil shavings and existential dread that day.
Step 3 – Exams That Make You Question Your Life Choices
Praxis. edTPA. Whatever your state loves to torture you with.
I failed the Praxis Core math section the first time. By four points. Four. I had to explain to my mom why her thirty-something son was retaking middle-school-level math. She sent me a care package with number flashcards. I love her. I also hate her a little.
Study tip from someone who learned the hard way: do every single practice question you can find. ETS has official ones here. Pay the $19 for the study companion PDF. Worth it.
edTPA felt like filming my own funeral. You record yourself teaching, annotate every second, write 27 pages of justification. I still wake up sometimes thinking I forgot to hit “submit.”
Step 4 – The Application Gauntlet
Background check. Fingerprints. Official transcripts mailed in giant envelopes like it’s 1997. Application fees that add up faster than my coffee budget.
I once paid $200 for a fingerprint card only to realize my state accepts digital now. Refund? Ha.
Check reciprocity if you ever plan to move. Some states play nice. Others act like you’re asking to borrow their firstborn.
Official state portals are your bible. Example: California Commission on Teacher Credentialing or Texas Education Agency. Find yours. Cry a little. Keep going.
Step 5 – Actually Getting Hired (and Not Imploding)
Subbing first is smart. Low commitment, you figure out if you hate middle schoolers or just hate Tuesdays.
I’ve subbed exactly seven times. Highlights include:
- confiscating a kid’s vape shaped like a highlighter
- accidentally starting a class-wide debate about whether pineapple belongs on pizza (it does, fight me)
- one girl telling me I look like “a sad golden retriever”
Now I’m applying for full-time spots. Cover letters feel like therapy sessions. Interviews feel like speed dating with people who can fire you.
Final Ramble Before I Go Stare at the Portal Again
How to become a teacher in the US is not clean. It’s typos on forms, rejection emails at 11 p.m., realizing your “professional wardrobe” is two decent blazers and a dream.
But yesterday a kid I subbed for last month ran up in the hallway and said “Hey Mr. You’re-back!” and did a little fist bump. That feeling? It’s worth the nervous breakdowns. If you’re in this too—start with your state DOE site. Seriously. Right now. Pause reading this and do it.
And if you want to vent about how unfair the Praxis math section is or how much edTPA hates joy, drop a comment. I’m here. Probably refreshing my application status at the same time. Love you. Good luck. Don’t quit yet.
