Will I Disappear?

I just read a really entertaining post by fellow Transform Ed blogger, Megan Allen, who provides a great list of things teachers go through in the first week of school.  I related, as most teachers would, to just about everything on this list, but one item struck me, in particular:

"15. Your friends wonder where you are and why you fell off the face of the earth."

Yeah, we do disappear. I do, at least.  Over the past few days, and especially on this long Labor Day weekend before the first week, this sentence has been running through my head.  Must I disappear?

On the one hand, it's just part of the reality of teaching.  We get a long break in summer, and then we give our selves over entirely to the work until we start to burn out around Thanksgiving.  Then we keep going and... it just keeps going. I choose to stay in teaching anyway. (Here's a previous post on the year-round schedule I would actually prefer.)

Nonetheless, I have some hope that I will not need to disappear from the rest of my life starting next week.  First, I'm employing some of the organization techniques I learned from Maia Heyck-Merlin in a PD she did at my school and in reading her new book, The Together Teacher.  I reviewed the book for MiddleWeb here. And here's review on the book by another teacher.  

What I'm hopeful I can change is

a) the amount of work I bring home from school

b) the amount of mental space all of my To-Do's and I-Should-Be-Doing's take up

By setting clearer work routines and making many decisions about what I need to do and how I'll spend my time each week ahead of time, I can hopefully carve out more space for my personal life.  

At the same time, the mental and physical exhaustion of teaching doesn't go away, no matter how organized I become.  It's part of the life of a teacher, and one of the costs of having such an intensely engaging job.  I'm reminded that I chose it, in part, because I knew I could never be bored by teaching, and being bored was a fear of mine.  (In fact, boredom was what I felt through a lot of my own schooling, so there is a bit of a circle going on there.)  

Disappearing into my work is something I must enjoy on some level.  You can sense the enjoyment Megan Allen feels at the beginning of the year in her post, too.  Disappearing may not such a horrible thing, but its sustainability is certainly a question.

Do you disappear when school starts? And do you enjoy it? 

 

[image credit: telegraph.co.uk]

 

 

 

Comments

[Jenmardunc]

I am in the first year of a new job and I have definitely disappeared. We just finished our second full week of school and I haven't left before 5:00PM on any day. I worked 2 Saturdays in a row and brought work home to complete on Sundays. I don't mind the work, but it takes a toll on my family. My goal is to only work from home on the weekends so I am still accessible to my kids; and to leave work earlier so I don't miss all of my kids extracurriculars--which start this week. I CAN DO IT! (my new mantra) I, too, enjoy the challenge. But I need to reign things in a little and realize that there's only so much anyone can do in one day/week/year.

Hope you have a wonderful year!

[Helen]

This post resonated. I wish non-teachers would read it, too.

[D]

This is such an important post to have at the beginning of (your) academic year. It is especially important for first year teachers to get their head wrapped around. I tell by new teachers that they will probably never owrk harder than in the first couple of years of their teaching life. It is a reality. But, while good education is, to a degree, all consuming, it must also come with a healthy work-life balance.
Thanks for highlighting this to us all.
David

davidw.edublogs.org

[Bonnie Daley]

I try to make room for my personal life by scheduling activities. I play ice hockey which means one practice and one game minimum per week. I also belong to a fly fishing club which holds meetings and offers weekend outings. I try to take home work only once or twice a week. That means I stay late at work two or three days a week but when I'm off, I'm having fun.

[Deb]

It's like you get on a ship in August and you don't touch land again until June. You get to stop rowing a few times at holidays.