Let us be honest for a second. That towering stack of papers to grade? The half-finished manuscript glaring at you from your desktop? The gnawing feeling that you are failing at both? I have been there, pacing my office, wondering how on earth I am supposed to be a brilliant researcher and an inspiring teacher with the same twenty-four hours everyone else gets. This is not some abstract problem; it is the daily reality for so many of us in academia. For years, I treated my teaching and research like warring factions, constantly negotiating a fragile truce between them. Time spent on one felt like a betrayal of the other. I would finally score a solid block for data analysis, only to have it vaporized by an unexpected student crisis or a last-minute department meeting. It was exhausting. I realized I could not just work harder; I had to work smarter. The real secret, I discovered, was not to keep them separate but to find ways to make them friends. For professors drowning in deadlines, this guide offers actionable time management for professors seeking a sustainable balance between lecturing and their own research projects. It is about creating a synergy that actually makes both aspects of our job richer. That feeling of being constantly behind is not a personal failing. It is a systemic issue. I once saw a statistic that stopped me cold: a huge 84% of educators feel they do not have enough time for their core tasks during the workday. Seeing that was weirdly comforting. It was not just me! We are all trying to navigate this impossible squeeze.

 The pressure to publish while delivering top-tier education is immense, and the administrative load just keeps growing. Acknowledging this was my first step toward a solution. It moved the problem from being my fault to being “my challenge to solve. This was my biggest game-changer. Instead of seeing course prep as time stolen from research, I started asking: how can this class feed my work? For instance, I was deep into a new project on urban sustainability. Instead of designing a generic research methods unit from a textbook, I built the entire module around my actual project. Students learned hands-on data collection techniques by contributing to my real-world data. They got practical, gritty experience, and I got a small army of enthusiastic helpers. Their fresh perspectives on the data even sparked a new angle I had not considered. In my graduate seminar, literature review assignments now directly tackle the themes I am exploring. It is a win-win. The students engage with cutting-edge questions, and I get a curated, crowd-sourced overview of emerging scholarship. It takes more upfront design work, but the payoff throughout the semester is enormous. I am a believer in time blocking, but I had to adapt it to the chaotic rhythm of academic life. The key for me was identifying my “golden hours” , those first two in the morning when my mind is sharpest.

Those are now sacred, non-negotiable research blocks. No email, no meetings, no grading. Just deep work. I protect that time like a dragon guards its treasure. The less mentally demanding tasks answering emails, course prep, admin get shoved into the afternoon when my energy dips. I also started creating a master calendar at the start of each semester. I plot out all my big research deadlines alongside major teaching milestones. Seeing it all visually helps me spot train wrecks before they happen. Is a major conference abstract due the same week as midterm grades? Knowing that three weeks out allows me to adjust instead of panic. This might be the most crucial skill I have learned. Early in my career, I said yes to everything: committee seats, peer reviews, guest lectures. I thought it was what I was supposed to do. It nearly burned me out. Now, I have a simple mental filter for any new request: does this actively further my core goals in teaching or research? If it does not, I politely decline. It is not about being uncollegial; it is about being strategic with your energy.

You have to guard your time if you want to produce meaningful work in either arena. I am not a productivity guru with a million apps, but I rely on a few simple systems. I use a basic digital tool to track my projects. I have templates for everything: syllabi, common email responses, feedback forms. It saves me from reinventing the wheel every single semester. And I have learned to delegate. A trained teaching assistant can handle routine grading, and a keen undergraduate research assistant can help with literature reviews or data entry. This is not shirking; it is mentoring and it frees you to focus on the high-level thinking only you can do. This is not about achieving perfect balance. That is a myth. Some weeks, research will need 70% of your focus. Other weeks, your students will demand 90%. The goal is sustainable integration, not a perfect split. It is a fluid, ongoing process of adjustment. Be kind to yourself when it feels messy. The goal is to build a career that is both productive and, dare I say, enjoyable. What is one small change you can make this week to help your teaching and research work together?

 

References:

Editverse. (2024). “Balancing Teaching and Research: Time Management Strategies for Academics in 2024-2025.” https://editverse.com/balancing-teaching-and-research/

Times Higher Education. (2024). “How to balance teaching and research.” https://www.timeshighereducation.com/campus/how-balance-teaching-and-research

PLOS Computational Biology. (2021). “Ten simple rules to improve academic work–life balance.” https://journals.plos.org/ploscompbiol/article?id=10.1371/journal.pcbi.1009124

University of Maryland Office of Faculty Affairs. “Faculty Workload Guidance.” https://faculty.umd.edu/workload-guidance

 ResearchGate. (2018). “Strategies to Attain Faculty Work-Life Balance.” https://www.researchgate.net/publication/329051167_Strategies_to_Attain_Faculty_Work-Life_Balance