How Teachers Can Find Balance on the Summer Holiday Emotional See-Saw
The mix of anxiety and excitement has me feeling that I want to be at work, while also wishing the holidays would last forever, says Vicki Vincent…
I went back to work today after my three-and-a-bit week summer holiday. It’s a funny thing, the summer holiday, and one that makes me flit between emotions that I can’t always rightly explain.
Like most teachers, especially those of us in FE, by May I am officially on countdown and the light at the end of my teaching tunnel shines pretty brightly. Then a weird thing happens: I finish teaching and still go to work. For weeks.
It’s a funny state of limbo where I could potentially do a lot of work preparing for the new teaching year, but my motivation and energy has burnt out, so my days are spent tidying, halfheartedly planning, and thinking. Lots of thinking.
Over the last year or two I’m learning a lot about myself, and reflection, along with a healthy dose of brutal honesty, has enabled me to gain a much better understanding.
Thinking time at the end of the teaching year is good for this, but too much thinking time sees me tip-toe into the murky waters of self-doubt and deprecation, and that’s not always a joyride.
Like these few idle weeks at work the summer holidays also afford me too much thinking time, which is why I find a break from work quite a tricky thing to navigate.
So, this year I can split my holiday into three clear categories:
Firstly, euphoria. I’m full to bursting with the relief of being ‘off’ and knowing that for the next few weeks I don’t have to spend my time thinking of all the things I could be doing at home, because I am at home.
I get giddy from not having to set my alarm, binge watching TV late into the evening and spending time being Vicki/Mum. It’s nice to be fully present with my family and during the high of this first week I repeatedly question why I do a job that often consumes my time and energy well outside of my working hours.
Second, unease. I’m relaxed. Honestly. Except I’m not. By the second week I’m feeling odd and I can’t put my finger on why.
I find myself panic eating three choc ices in the kitchen and desperately trying to calm the flutter I feel in my chest.
It’s taken me a while, but I have learnt that control, or lack of, is a key trigger for my anxiety. Being off work and having all the time in the world, having no routine or structure can make me feel a little like I’m falling: I’m waiting for the bump when I hit the ground but it just doesn’t come.
My adrenaline is cranked right up waiting for it and eventually this comes out as tears and self-loathing.
Lastly, ambivalent apprehension. I want to be back at work. I want to get started on my new year, which I’m hugely excited about as it’s going to be full of new challenges and experiences for me. However, I’m full of nervousness and dread at the amount of work I’m going to have to do to survive again, and the impact this will have.
I’m desperately clinging to every late night and lie in while secretly longing for a set pattern to my day. Sliding my alarm button back on last night felt a lot like pulling a comfort blanket back up to my chin before snuggling down to sleep.
As teachers, structure is ingrained in our very souls. Our days are structured into periods, our weeks into terms and most of what we do is, to an extent, planned out and thought about well in advance. And we do this for great chunks of time (hello 11 week half term, I’m talking about you) and it’s full on.
We are not passively going about our day, we are living, breathing and sleeping (or not) our jobs and then we get a break and we are expected to be able to switch that off.
I’m sure I can’t be alone in this see-saw feeling of wanting to be at work and also wishing the holidays would last forever. The immense pressures we often work under mean that finding that balance isn’t easy.
My summer holiday see-saw has tipped and sent me soaring up high and I’ve had some lovely times with friends and family that I know I wouldn’t have enjoyed as much if they had been during term time.
It’s also hit the ground with a ‘three choc ice’ thump and unexplained tears.
There have also been plenty of moments where I’ve been suspended in that place of neither up nor down, my legs dangling in mid-air while I try to get enough momentum to bounce myself to a better place.
I think sometimes the expectation is that teachers immediately switch off when the bell rings at the end of the day, during the weekend or the holidays.
In reality I’m sure this isn’t the case, for me it certainly isn’t.
As a profession we pay a lot of attention to work-life balance when the pressure is on, but what about when it’s not? How do we achieve equilibrium when we are physically not at work and yet our minds are very much conditioned to the routines and demands of teacher life?
Perhaps we need to think a little bit more about teacher workload in terms of the pressures that can be felt during term times and the sudden void left when that’s over.
Is there even a way that teacher workload can be better spread out across the year to allow us to spend more time mid-air, enjoying the view, as opposed to the extreme highs and lows of the see-saw?
As for me, I’m learning when to keep my feet on the ground and when to push off. It isn’t easy but practice makes perfect. (By the way, I’m already counting down the days until half-term.)
Vicki Vincent is a further education English teacher. Check out her blog at feteachertales.wordpress.com and follow her on Twitter at @MissVicki_V.
