rant it out
It’s so odd to be seeing the conflict between the values of before and those of now. Specifically, I’m thinking of the “hustle and grind” culture and how it manifests in the primary and secondary school environment.
Back in the old days, I felt and witnessed a pressure (sometimes implicit, often explicit) to always be present-- physically, I mean.
It’s hard to hire and retain substitute teachers, it’s more trouble to write a lesson plan and then clean up all the mess (physical, emotional, academic) of an absence when you return. We have built-in vacation time—why don’t you do all your doctor’s appointments and getting sick then? And do you really care about the kids if you’re taking a day off?
There are pretty hefty doses of pressure and judgement-- internal and external-- when, in reality, we’ll have healthier, happier teachers and staff who are better able to give of themselves to our precious younger generations if they are actively encouraged to rest and practice balance.
Those values have ruled public education (and American work culture, let’s be real) for quite a long time, and now we also have this opposing need for people to do something we’re not used to doing: stay home. It’s not just a smart move, but a moral imperative (another one!) to keep yourself and others safe if and when you get sick.
Not sure what’s causing the achey neck, congestion, exhaustion? Stay safe and stay home! Don’t bring that into the school building—we can’t handle another shutdown! Could it be the pure exertion of being overworked and surviving a system that ultimately chews us up and spits us out (I say this not specifically about public education, but about American capitalism in general)? Maybe—but we’re not really concerned about that. We’re concerned about COVID.
But this safety concern goes against the old script, and we are hitting back up against the old expectations. Have we increased parental leave? No. Have we divorced health care from work? No, not that either. Have we made it more affordable to be sick in this country? Yeah, no. Have we done anything in a material way to make working conditions healthier? Nope, not that one either.
And in the school building it looks like: “Stay home if you’re sick, don’t expose others,” and also, “we have a sub shortage, can you cover?”
I say this reflecting on yesterday when I spent my morning crossing my fingers that a few more others would volunteer to sub for two absent teachers without coverage so that I’d only have to cover half a period so I could get back to individual check-ins, documentation, lunch supervision, schoolwide lesson planning, Red Ribbon Week lesson and activity preparations, tracking down a teacher’s signature, recording the Quarter 1 Achievement Assembly, caseload interviews, scheduling a parent meeting, and being available for any crisis or unexpected student need. Thankfully, some other coworkers also volunteered their very limited time to support, so I was, indeed, able to sub for only three-fourths of a period. And I was able to accomplish some parts of my to-do list.
Despite this whiny-sounding diatribe, I truly love my new job (the constant stimulation is perfect) and don’t say all of this to complain, but rather to illustrate this strange overlap of expectations and how it manifests in a public school environment. As with any job, there is a ton to do. Unlike some jobs, there is the moral component that adds a heightening of stakes, or at least that’s how it seems to me.
So, what is this week’s newsletter? Just a rant? I intended it be more of a musing (not necessarily amusing—yes, I think I’m so funny), but maybe I just needed some space to get it all out. And maybe you do, too?
It’s important to focus on the positive, not escalate or magnify feelings of negativity to the point of unhealthy perseveration (I think!), but I am also forever a strong proponent of feeling your feelings (though Michael, my family, and anybody who’s been privy to my emotions might argue otherwise…). If we don’t allow ourselves to feel them (I don’t mean being overrun by them—there’s a difference!), then we don’t allow ourselves the full spread of human experience. It’s positive, it’s negative, it’s everywhere in between.
So, let yourself rant. Feel the feelings. Get them out. Loose them on the page (screen?) and then let them pass. Let them live their jolly little, angry little lives as emotions in the wild. Okay… too much metaphor. I’m done. Enjoy, friend.
prompt #54:
Set that timer for five minutes and give yourself the gift of full freedom to rant. Complain your little heart out about issues big or small. No judgement here, because it’s all for you. No pressure for it to be worldly or earned or justified. Rant away, my dear. This is your time and your space.
And then, after five minutes, take a deep, cleansing breath, shake out your body like a dog (I’m fully convinced their frequent shakes make for good release from petty and grave frustrations, as well as just a relief from an uncomfortable sitting position). Next, reread your writing to see if it wants to be transformed, if it sparks a flight of fancy, or if it just wants to continue existing as a raw rant on the page.
And if, after all that, you’d like to share it in our next Sun Showers (please do!), then click “reply” and send it my way.
ashley's piece:
Was today’s intro! I’m sure you could tell!