So tomorrow is the 8th March. The date that’s been on everyone’s lips for a fair while now. The day all children come back to school. Regardless of my anxiety over Covid, I’m actually really looking forward to having my class back in front of me and just getting on with my job. The worry though, is that I won’t just be getting on with my job, because we’ve become obsessed with children now being somehow damaged and so far behind that they’ll be scarred for life. We underestimate children and young people! They are far, far more resilient that we give them credit for. Now don’t get me wrong, there are children who will have had a horrendous time at home. There are children who won’t have done any learning during this time. And there are those who will find this transition a challenging one. Don’t for a second think I’m saying that we shouldn’t recognise all of this and support these children. But there are many, many children who will be just fine. In fact, I predict that the majority will be ok, because they’ve been at home with parents or carers who have done their absolute best. My worry is that we will get so caught up assessing how far behind children are, that we’ll lose sight of what’s important and we’ll push more teachers (and maybe children) to the brink. Say we assess these kids and find they are behind, what difference does it make to our approach? As teachers we’ll still meet them where they’re at and we’ll still teach them to the best of our ability. That’s what we do.
Anyway, that’s my view on it all. On a personal note, the past few weeks have been an insane struggle. I flit between thinking ‘f**k it, I’m doing my best and that’ll have to be enough’ and then totally freaking out because, well, my best doesn’t feel like enough. I’ve had a couple of very dark days. It’s hard to know if it is my job or me, or perhaps a combination of the two. On the day that I was fantasing about having a car accident, just so I could stop everything, I realised that I wasn’t ok. I’d tried to tell a few people I wasn’t ok but the problem is that quite a lot of people are in the same place right now. Plus, I’m quite often not ok these days and I suspect it gets boring for those around me. So I called my doctor the next day and asked for help. She immediately tried to sign me off, which I flatly refused at that point, but talking things through without feeling guilty for burdening someone did help. I don’t know what the next step is for me but I’m talking to her again next week and I’ll go from there.
In the meantime, my strategy is this: Put me first (well kind of – as much as I can). I have to go back to prioritising running, lifting weights, horses, fun, friends, walks, bonfires, star gazing, reading, sleeping and all the other things that make me feel good. I have to do it or I will go under. This is a fact. I’m trying hard to change my mindset but my mood varies enormously from day to day. I suspect that might be to do with being a woman of a certain age, but I’ll save that discussion for another time. I have some bloomin wonderful people in my life, who lift me so well, so I kind of owe it to them to get the old me back, so that I can be a fun person to be around.
So that’s my mission, to get me back. The real me. Not the stressed, tired, grumpy me, who cries all the time and wakes in the night thinking she’s having a heart attack. I may not have picked the best week to decide this, but honestly, it can’t wait. I can’t wait.
Winging it! 