We’re Teachers…We’re Drowning (Part 1)

Jana Woofter is a chemistry and physical science teacher at Spring Mills High School in Berkeley County, as well as president of the Berkeley County Education Association. (Mike Chalmers for West Virginia Watch)
Teacher pay versus cost of living approaching crisis levels in West Virginia’s Eastern Panhandle
The phrase “say the hard part out loud” has had a moment in the national spotlight recently. And within West Virginia, you’ll hear it repeatedly when you talk to education professionals in the Eastern Panhandle about teacher pay.
Something else you’ll hear with regularity is the word “crisis.”
Michelle Barnhart, a social studies teacher at South Middle School in Martinsburg (Berkeley County), has seen the teacher shortage turn from a growing problem into something much more serious.
“When I started teaching in 2017, you had to be actively working on your degree to even be considered for a position. Now, they’re putting people with associate’s degrees—or no degree at all—into classrooms as full-time teachers,” she explained. “They aren’t supposed to, but they have no choice.”
The State, added Barnhart, is ignoring the problem. “Charleston doesn’t see it, or chooses not to. People downstate don’t understand that many of the adults in these kids’ classrooms up here aren’t actually teachers—because the teachers have gone elsewhere for better pay.”
Imagine, she said, if hospitals started hiring people with no medical background to be doctors. “Just pulling people off the street, handing them a clipboard, and saying, ‘Here, practice medicine.’ That’s what’s happening here in education.”
Barnhart contended that many of her colleagues and fellow educators feel powerless at the end of the day. “The cost of living in the Panhandle is nowhere near the rest of West Virginia, but teachers, state workers—anyone whose salary is coded into law—get the same base pay. If you live elsewhere, that’s not a big deal. But if you move here, you suddenly realize this is a crisis.”
Parents, she noted, are often unaware of just how bad the situation has become. “They’ll see the bus driver shortage on the news and get outraged about routes being cut. But they don’t know what’s happening inside the classrooms. They don’t see how many positions go unfilled all year, or how often classes are just split up when a teacher calls out—overcrowding the ones that are already at their limit.”
Even for those who stay, Barnhart emphasized, burnout is inevitable. “You have algebra teachers covering trigonometry. English teachers covering history. Some days, they still can’t find someone to cover,” she said. “When that happens, learning just stops.”
Andrew Fincham, a health and physical education teacher at Martinsburg High School in Berkeley County, has seen the pattern repeat itself year after year.
“It’s only getting worse,” he acknowledged. “And with the population growth in the Panhandle, we’re running out of room. Classrooms are overflowing, and we’re sticking kids in trailers to make it work—but the turnover rate with teachers is staggering.”
Currently, Berkeley County’s student population alone—at nearly 20,000—exceeds the total population of 26 entire counties in West Virginia. As of the start of the current school year in August (2024), Berkeley County had nearly 200 permanent substitutes hired.
“We’re losing an alarming number of teachers every year throughout the county—whether it’s retirement or leaving for more money,” said Fincham, “and the impact on students is undeniable—all schools, all grade levels.”
Fincham doesn’t see the “revolving door” getting any better without major policy changes. “All the nearby states—Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania—adjust salaries based on cost of living. West Virginia doesn’t. It’s easy to see where this is headed. If the State doesn’t start thinking about this in a new way, in five years, it’ll be catastrophic.”
The impact on retention, added Barnhart, can’t be overstated. “Berkeley and Jefferson Counties, especially, have become steppingstones. Teachers come here, get a few years of experience, and then leave for better pay—often nearby.”
For Barnhart, the predicament is both personal and professional. “I have kids in this school system; I see it as a parent and as an educator,” she added. “It’s frustrating because I don’t want to leave, but at some point, I might not have a choice.”
Considering almost all those choices are within thirty minutes or less, Barnhart admitted it’s hard to ignore the disparity. “If I left for Frederick County Schools [Virginia], I’d make over $6,400 more per year,” she indicated. “In Washington County [Maryland], over $11,500 more. And Loudoun County [Northern Virginia], almost $25,000 more.”
The Numbers Don’t Lie
At the end of the day, however, this isn’t a new conversation for people like Barnhart, Fincham, and thousands of others within the region. In recent decades, West Virginia’s education landscape has been punctuated by significant teacher strikes, notably in 1990 and 2018—both primarily driven by concerns over inadequate compensation and escalating healthcare costs. The 2018 strike, in particular, saw approximately 20,000 educators and school personnel shutting down schools across all 55 counties, culminating in a five percent pay raise for all state workers.
nd yet, in 2025—as in most years previous—West Virginia sits either dead last nationally or perilously close to dead last on just about any average teacher-salary list you come across—jostling for position between Florida, South Dakota, and Missouri year after year. Be that as it may, according to the most recent data available from the National Education Association, the estimated national average annual salary for teachers sits at $71,699—while West Virginia shuffles in at $53,336.
That said, the Eastern Panhandle’s three core counties—Berkeley, Jefferson, and Morgan—are among the fastest-growing in the state, and closest to the Washington, D.C., metropolitan area, making them highly susceptible to issues like cost-of-living disparities and teacher-pay inequities.
According to the most recent data from the West Virginia Department of Education, the average annual teacher salary in Berkeley County lands at $55,412; the average for Jefferson County comes in at $54,153; and Morgan County sits at $55,624.
Compare that to West Virginia’s poorest county, McDowell, where the average teacher salary is $53,296. However, the average home value in McDowell County hovers around $35,000—with the median home sale price standing at approximately $41,000. Accordingly, almost all cost-of-living data is lower or significantly lower in McDowell County—understandably. To that end, $53,296 goes a long way there, as it does in numerous other counties in West Virginia that boast similar cost-of-living data.
By contrast, average home values in Berkeley County climb into the $335,000+ range. In Jefferson County, it’s even higher, with values exceeding $380,000. In Morgan County, values can exceed $350,000. As can be imagined, the cost of living within these three counties is commensurate with those values. But the average teacher salary within the Panhandle comes in at $55,063—not even two thousand dollars more annually than West Virginia’s poorest county.
Talk to anyone close to this issue, and they will tell you in no uncertain terms—it’s becoming all but impossible to work as a teacher or education service worker in the Panhandle and pay the bills. And when extra money does arrive, it’s in the form of a statewide raise—without consideration for locality pay—which keeps that allotment relatively small in proportion to the ever-widening economic gap between the Panhandle and the rest of the state.



