What is this “real world” you speak of?
Who defines it?
Is it the same “real world” for everyone?
I was recently in conversation with colleagues about class attendance. Now, full disclosure, I do not have an attendance policy. I know my class is not the only thing going on in the lives of my students. I know they have to make choices with how they spend their time and I do not sit in judgment of those choices. I encourage open communication, I want to know if you aren’t coming (if at all possible) because I’m a worrier and I care about you. The ‘why’ you aren’t coming isn’t my business. I do not attach points to attendance or the ever elusive but pervasive concept of “participation.” If you’re missing a lot of class, I ask if we can talk. I want you to get the content, the knowledge, the learning, the experiences, and I want to help remove any barriers I possibly can. I want us to work together and I try to be a trustworthy and empathetic person who can serve as a resource.
So, that’s my approach.
My colleague said a student emailed saying they were going through a traumatic breakup and wouldn’t be in class. The colleague said nope. Another colleague said, when you’re a teacher, you can’t just stay home when your heart is broken. The real world doesn’t stop for your break up.
We get personal days and sick leave and we can and should use them in ways that support our overall well-being, right? We need to learn how to engage in self care and boundary setting and mental health awareness and care. Teachers are not martyrs or superheroes or angels. They are humans with the wide range of human emotions and experiences.
I wonder about things like perfect attendance awards (why?) and the “in the real world, you’ll be expected to . . . ” framing that builds and reinforces anxiety and this run yourself into the ground, work 24/7 mentality that is literally killing us.
What if we modeled self care? What if we respected boundaries? What if we taught students to ask for what they need?
This week, I had a number of long, stressful days. So, on Thursday, I cancelled a few things and worked from home, caught up on emails, scheduling, feedback, some writing. In all day meetings on Friday, I talked with a colleague who had done the same the day before, took a “mental health day.” We both said “GOOD FOR YOU!” to each other. Where did we learn this was okay?
We didn’t. We both expressed guilt and shame and a feeling of embarrassment about it.
In the words of the perfect Jonathan Van Ness, “who gave you permission to be so amazing?” I’m giving you permission to set boundaries and to teach students to do the same. And here’s the tricky part – respect the boundaries they and others set. We must take care of each other.
How have you learned to care for your own mental health and well being? How do you extend that grace to others?