Nika Babic

I’m 32 and have been working as a kindergarten teacher in Dubrovnik, Croatia, for several years, and despite the challenges, I genuinely love what I do. We care for 24 children, ranging from one to six years old, and usually, there are three of us to share the load. But lately, with one of my colleagues out sick, it’s just two of us handling twice the usual number of kids.

One of the children, a two-year-old boy, is struggling more than most. Every morning, he clings to his father, crying until his little body trembles. Yesterday, he cried so hard he vomited, and I felt a sharp pang of helplessness. It's not unusual for children to struggle with separation at this age, but his distress is heartbreaking. Normally, they settle in after a few days, but some, like this boy, take longer.

The stress is overwhelming. With 12 children to manage alone at times, it feels like I’m constantly on the brink of losing control. The ringing in my ear, a recent development, is a relentless reminder of the strain. I know it’s stress-induced, but there’s little I can do to alleviate it. Kindergartens in Croatia are free and state-funded, which makes them popular, but also overcrowded. The low pay and high demands are common in social professions, not just here but across Europe. It’s a frustration shared by many of my colleagues—our work is vital, yet undervalued. I love my job, but sometimes I wonder how long I can keep going under these conditions.

On days like this, I find solace in the support of my friends and family. We talk through the difficulties and celebrate the small victories, which helps lighten the load. It’s this shared understanding and encouragement that reminds me why I am committed to this challenging but rewarding work.