This is more of a rant than a discussion of a specific mental health issue but it is worth reflecting on a rose-tinted "Mr Chips" vision of teaching, that of teaching as a "vocation". This picture was posted on a social media website the other day and it made me see red. It is not just that it is all twee and fluffy in its sentiment but it actually has a more sinister side.
I am sure that most teachers want to change lives and make a difference but they also want to be valued, be well paid, be respected and feel like professionals. They want a work-life balance and want to be recognised for their labour. I have long been suspicious of those who claim that teaching is a vocation and that they do it for the reasons on the mug. I think it is laudable that most of those with whom I have worked aspire to the mug definitions but if it was a true "Vocation" they would renounce their salaries and devote every waking hour to the job.
In an earlier post I talked about the potential impact that sentiments about this being the best job in the world can have on colleagues (see The best job in the world...) but there is another problem that should not be ignored. What happens when the bubble bursts? Without naming names, schools and locations, I once worked with a young and idealistic teacher who gave everything to the profession. This teacher produced excellent lessons and children made great progress, all of this took a great deal of time and the concept of work-life balance evaporated. The impact of exam classes, OFSTED, workload and so on meant that more and more time was being spent doing the job. The teacher was already shy and insular but the additional demands of matching the belief in the "vocation" to the challenges of the job meant that the teacher became even more withdrawn. Eventually as the stress levels increased and as the social isolation grew the penny dropped. The "vocation" bubble burst, the belief was shattered and all reasons to do the job disappeared. An extended period of absence from work followed, after which the teacher decided to leave the profession.
I can't say for certain what the trigger event was but I am sure that an unrealistic belief in the vocation of teaching didn't help. Don't get me wrong, I think it is important that we are principled people who believe in the transformative potential of education, but we must also recognise that it is still a job and that we must not sacrifice our emotional well-being for it.
I am sure that most teachers want to change lives and make a difference but they also want to be valued, be well paid, be respected and feel like professionals. They want a work-life balance and want to be recognised for their labour. I have long been suspicious of those who claim that teaching is a vocation and that they do it for the reasons on the mug. I think it is laudable that most of those with whom I have worked aspire to the mug definitions but if it was a true "Vocation" they would renounce their salaries and devote every waking hour to the job.
In an earlier post I talked about the potential impact that sentiments about this being the best job in the world can have on colleagues (see The best job in the world...) but there is another problem that should not be ignored. What happens when the bubble bursts? Without naming names, schools and locations, I once worked with a young and idealistic teacher who gave everything to the profession. This teacher produced excellent lessons and children made great progress, all of this took a great deal of time and the concept of work-life balance evaporated. The impact of exam classes, OFSTED, workload and so on meant that more and more time was being spent doing the job. The teacher was already shy and insular but the additional demands of matching the belief in the "vocation" to the challenges of the job meant that the teacher became even more withdrawn. Eventually as the stress levels increased and as the social isolation grew the penny dropped. The "vocation" bubble burst, the belief was shattered and all reasons to do the job disappeared. An extended period of absence from work followed, after which the teacher decided to leave the profession.
I can't say for certain what the trigger event was but I am sure that an unrealistic belief in the vocation of teaching didn't help. Don't get me wrong, I think it is important that we are principled people who believe in the transformative potential of education, but we must also recognise that it is still a job and that we must not sacrifice our emotional well-being for it.
Thank you for this blog. I am in my 5th year of teaching and, having recently taken on additional responsibility at a new school, have decided that I simply cannot face going in tomorrow. The various stressors (many of which you articulate across your blog) have gotten on top of me: I haven't had an enjoyable day for ages, I'm completely swamped with workload, I approach my tasks with fear and despair. This despite having been an organised, efficient practitioner in a former school.
ReplyDeleteI just wanted to say that i think you've captured the key stress factors really well. I know my job has been hell this term, but sometimes it can be hard to articulate to people outside of the profession what 'exactly' the problem is.
Thank you for your comment. You are not alone, and I believe you would be surprised at how many of your colleagues feel the same way. I am always saddened to hear comments like yours; given that we are meant to provide safe and friendly environments for our pupils it is deeply disappointing that many schools fail to do this for their staff.
ReplyDeleteThe key thing here is your own well-being. Don't allow school to damage you; you will be of little use to your pupils and your colleagues if you cannot function. Teachers are often their own worst enemy (myself included) and we forget to safeguard ourselves.