We need to protect our teachers.
One of the the things that my chosen field has taught me is the importance of understanding the interconnectedness of people. I think I can safely say that this pandemic has shown us all how important our social connections are, but also how co-dependent we are as a community. We are by nature social beasts and the health and wellbeing of one member of our network will inevitably have ramifications on us. This true in our own little family circles, but also true across our wider communities. If one branch of our community begins to struggle, it will have far reaching effects. Right now I am worried about the health and wellbeing of our teachers.
In my last post I looked at how we can best support our children in their return to school. I encouraged parents and teachers to remain curious and empathetic towards the children in their lives to help them manage the big feelings they are likely to be having. I stand by everything I said in that post, but now I want to add another layer of complexity for your consideration. I want to you to think about what we’re asking of our teachers. Teachers are not just the providers of our children’s education. They are also our children’s mentors, friends and providers of significant emotional care. Managing the multiple roles of teaching can be exhausting. Teaching under normal circumstances already boasts one of the highest rates of emotional exhaustion. Emotional exhaustion is colloquially known as burn out and it is the result of protracted stress. When an individual has remained in a high stress environment for a long time their mind and body will wear down. Individuals will feel emotionally depleted (tired, sad, numb) and a pervasive sense of hopelessness. These feelings in turn lead to a disengagement from work. People experiencing emotional exhaustion feel less interested in their work and feel a sense of negativity and cynicism towards their job. Many of us have felt elements of this over the past few weeks as we’ve waited in our homes for the world to slowly open back up. While for most of us this was a new experience, emotional exhaustion is already quite common in the teaching field due to the chronic stressors inherent to the field of education. Right now the stress volume for teachers has been turned up to 11.
Under the cloud of COVID19 teachers are vulnerable to a multitude of additional stressors. First, they will be the recipients of their students stress. They will be the managers, supporters and sympathisers of multiple expressions of anxiety over the next few weeks. In addition, they’ll be the recipients of our parental stress, including our anxiety over our children’s health and our anxiety over our children’s anxiety. This creates a lot of additional work. Teachers are spending so much more time supporting their students in class, returning parents and therapists phone calls and attending teacher training meetings about student wellbeing. This is stressful enough. However, I’m also worried about the impact of this stress on teachers directly, and what other unforeseen social complexities COVID might be throwing at teachers.
While looking for some literature on teacher wellbeing to go alongside my own observations I found an excellent article* that outlined what happened to teachers after the earthquakes in Christchurch, New Zealand. This event serves as a parallel for the effects of stress on an entire community under strain (though I honour the differences between the two situations too). This article outlined how teachers were vulnerable to secondary traumatic stress. Secondary traumatic stress is the process by which we absorb and replicate the emotional experiences of the people around us. It’s easy to see how we might do this. We naturally reflect and mimic the emotional valence of the people around us, whether it be mirroring someone’s excitement or hunching our bodies as we listen to someone’s sadness. It’s built into our neurology and makes us successful group members. However, in cases of secondary trauma we take on the emotional distress of those around us. A significant risk factor for this is having experienced a similar stressor to the person who is exhibiting the original symptoms. Right now we’re all vulnerable, but teachers will be in the (often unrecognised) position of being more exposed to the distress of others.
Not only will they be exposed to this distress, but they’ll be expected to manage it. Most parents I have come across see schools as hubs of care and support. Families find a nourishing sense of community and connection from their schools and their relationships with their child’s teacher. This is wonderful, but it places most teachers in the position of providing a form of pastoral care to their students and families. While this is a precious and honoured role for many teachers, it’s also an exhausting one. Teachers are placed into roles where they are recipients of our anxiety and then asked to help hold and contain it so we don’t get overwhelmed. To do this they have to put aside their own feelings and focus on ours. To support their communities teachers will be placing their own feelings behind those of their students and their families. This is known as emotional labour and its exhausting. The continual need to suppress ones own feelings of anger, frustration and anxiety to appear outwardly calm while managing those exact same feelings in another person is taxing. We’ve already asked teachers to do it for two months, and we’ll be asking them to keep it up for longer again.
As all teachers know, the teacher/parent relationship is not always a rosy one full of good will. From my Christchurch article the ramifications of poor student behaviour and achievement on teacher/parent relationships was explored. This article identified that the ongoing sense of fear and uncertainty following the earthquakes resulted in more problematic student behaviour and decreased student performance. This is unsurprising, however it in turn eroded parent/teacher relationships with parents feeling that teachers were culpable for their children’s lowered academic performance and engagement. There are already murmurings of similar patterns happening here. Schools might not be able to communicate with parents in the way that the parent might like. They might not be able to put in place everything a parent may wish for. COVID19 restrictions can and will force schools to make changes that impact their students and parents. This is frustrating. But it’s frustrating for everyone. Schools desperately want to meet every child’s need. They want to do everything possible for their communities. But sometimes they can’t, and it’s not their fault. From the research conducted in Christchurch it was the combination of these contrasting stressors (managing parental anger and vulnerability) that led to the teachers feeling emotionally exhausted.
Our teachers need support from all of us right now. As parents we need to remind ourselves that our schools and teachers are creating entirely new educational worlds in ridiculously small time frames. In the week preceding Melbourne’s return to school (for some students) teachers were managing their classes while simultaneously constructing completely new return to school protocols, while also being parents, carers, partners, friends, volunteers etc. With children returning to school our teachers are serving as our communities rocks of stability. We’re asking them to hold it together so we can get back to normal. If they fall, so do our kids and in succession that wave falls upon parents. Let’s not forget that there are vulnerable humans behind those Mickey Mouse costumes and high vis vests waiting at the gate to walk your children into school. Let’s remain curious and empathetic when problems arise with our children at school. Let’s approach our teachers with good faith and understanding.
This week I have been reminded of the thoughtful work that schools do in working for our children’s best interests. Teachers from across the world, including Slovakia, Singapore, the USA and of course Australia have contacted me to ask if they can use my previous article in their teacher training before their schools go back. I was unsurprised that teachers were having yet more meetings to prepare themselves to best support their students. Schools are working hard to keep our children in mind. I implore both parents, those in school leadership and those in seats of power and influence within the education department to give our teachers the same care and support. Schools need the time and resources to support teachers in seeking their necessary self care. It’s untenable to suggest that teachers should enact the best directions for self care (ie sleep, exercise, nutrition, counselling etc) without providing time and space for those activities. Teachers need a community culture where their wellbeing is prioritised. If we don’t adequately support our teachers we are going to see a huge increase in distress and work disengagement. We do not want to inflict that pain on such remarkable members of our community, and we certainly don’t want to lose people from this crucial profession. Remember the humanity of our teachers, even when they sometimes seem super human.
*Kuntz, J (2015). Protracted effect: Surveying teachers experiences in the aftermath of the Christchurch earthquakes. Natural Hazards Review, 16(1).