Welcome to the dark side of counselling

While not necessarily a glamorous job, school counselling is often seen as an easier gig than teaching: no marking, no lesson planning (or at least not as much) and not having to fit into the constraints of a particular curriculum. In fact, one particular response on LinkedIn to the question “What is the role of a school counsellor?” said: “In my experience, I have no clue other than walk around the school with coffee, laughing and joking.” When I read this, I laughed so hard I had to put my coffee down.

Yes, there are definite upsides to counselling, such as the privilege of guiding young people through pivotal life decisions, building meaningful relationships with them over time and witnessing their growth in confidence, purpose and self-understanding. And perks such as regular conferences, in-person events and university fly-ins.

But then there’s the dark side of the job – the things nobody tells you about, and the things that have conveniently been left off the job description.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No – it’s a helicopter parent

Most counsellors expect to work closely with parents. In many cases, these relationships are collaborative and constructive. But, once in a while, you will hear a whirring sound from above, heralding the arrival of the helicopter parent.

Once they have touched down on the helipad (your office), you will find yourself sucked into the rotor vortex of insistent demands for constant updates, the expectation of rapid responses to emails and a suffocating level of influence over the process that can undermine a student’s independence.

Careers and university guidance can become a battleground of expectations. Parents might arrive with rankings – or their own spreadsheets – and predetermined outcomes, sometimes leaving hardly any room for your professional judgement or for the student’s own voice. Navigating this requires ambassador-level diplomacy skills, bags of patience and a thick skin.

The shadow admissions industry

A growing challenge that school counsellors face is the expansion of the private admissions-consulting industry.

In major cities across the globe you will find an increasing number of profit-driven – and sometimes downright avaricious – organisations marketing highly structured admissions strategies, often promising that they have “cracked the code” to accessing elite universities such as the Ivy League and Oxbridge.

Many of these companies are unlicensed, unaccountable and unethical, and do not hold professional accreditation or abide by any code of conduct or industry standard. This lack of oversight means there is no formal mechanism to ensure competence, safety or accountability.

For counsellors working in schools, this can create an awkward parallel system. Students might arrive at meetings with detailed plans created elsewhere, sometimes including essay coaching, curated extracurriculars or advice that sits uneasily or conflicts with your school’s own policies.

The worst offenders (their faces would blush crimson with embarrassment) hide in the shadows of educational gutters, peering out like Pennywise the clown, waiting to feast on clueless but aspirational students and their families (see: helicopter parents, above), and charging up to $30,000 USD to “increase your chances of acceptance” – or, in the most egregious cases, promising you admission.

For parents who sink their money into their offspring’s hopes and dreams in this way, the stakes climb ever higher, while such companies remain unaccountable. And counsellors end up having to work hard to protect the student’s academic integrity and the reputation of their own institution.

One head; many, many, many hats

Another quiet reality of school counselling is – for some – the gradual expansion of the role. Counsellors who work as classroom teachers have to wear different hats – you quite often find English teachers who have expanded their role to include careers and university guidance. However, some schools add even more tasks to their counsellor’s plate, including exam coordination, other teaching tasks (outside the typical careers and university guidance scope), chaperoning or planning school trips, and behaviour management or discipline protocol.

Individually, none of these tasks is unreasonable. We know that schools are busy communities, and flexibility is part of the culture. But over time the accumulation can dilute the core work of counselling itself.

Conveniently, the International School Counselor Association has published a set of guidelines with recommendations for activities a school counsellor should – and should not – be doing in a school. Supporting students through complex, high-stakes emotional and academic decisions requires time, focus and availability. When counsellors are stretched across multiple roles, something inevitably has to give, and burnout lies just around the corner.

The unofficial staff therapist

Whether working as a comprehensive counsellor (university and careers guidance, plus social-emotional) or solely focusing on university counselling, counsellors are trained listeners; I call myself a “professional listener” on my LinkedIn profile. This skill is invaluable when working with students but it also makes counsellors natural magnets for colleagues who need to vent or offload.

Many counsellors find themselves providing informal emotional support to staff members: frustrated administrators, stressed teachers or colleagues navigating a personal crisis. Don’t get me wrong: these moments can be valuable and meaningful. However, they add an extra layer of emotional holding that was never listed in the job description. Many people don’t realise that school counsellors are the emotional barometer of a school’s overall well-being, and that they often have to carry the weight of informal confidential disclosures from colleagues as well as from students.

As in any job, school counsellors are sometimes asked to take on tasks that fall outside the scope of the role, or things that never appeared on the job description in the first place. Having clear boundaries in place – and the confidence to uphold them – is important to preserve one’s emotional well-being and the energy to do the job well. And of course, there will always be tricky situations to navigate and difficult individuals to work with. Being aware of these challenges and developing strategies to manage them effectively can make a significant difference.

Ultimately, maintaining a strong sense of professional identity, alongside healthy boundaries, enables school counsellors to remain effective, compassionate and sustainable in their practice. Get it right, and you too will be walking around school with coffee, laughing and joking.