It’s Been a Week!

So many of my posts since I resurrected this blog have been autobiographical and that really wasn’t my intention. However, a lot has happened in the last 7 days and if there is one thing I understand about my brain, it’s that I only gain clarity when I write or have a long enough conversation about something to gain insight into the root or way forward. Bringing back the blog signalled a change, so I suppose it was inevitable that change would mean having things to process and that would mean writing about them!

Image provided by Freepik

Let’s start with where I was this time last Saturday. I was at home, in my front room down South. I should have been in Scotland. My Godson was celebrating his 30^th birthday in the evening and I was expected. I’d been planning a special gift that needed input from his nearest and dearest, and a lot had gone into co-ordinating things. Having started putting my vision together on Thursday – believing at that point that it would only take a couple of hours – there I was still trying to get it finished and literally counting the minutes until I had to leave, or I would not make it in time for the party. As it was, I arrived at my mum’s 20 minutes before the party was due to start. She opened the door and just shook her head at me wordlessly. I was simply relieved to have enough time to get ready and deliver what turned out to be a better gift than I had planned, well worth the time and injuries incurred! My thumb is healing nicely for anyone who was aware that I’d sliced into it and got it covered in glue before putting a plaster on it.

Now, a situation like that would have sent me into meltdown in previous years. I would have cried and given up, believing I was useless and a disappointment. What kept me powering through was three things. First, I was using considerable amounts of Bach Rescue Remedy. Every time I started to panic, I put 4 drops under my tongue and kept going. That stuff is great for your nervous system and I highly recommend it.

The second thing is tied to another big event. I had been at the GP the previous day to discuss menopause. I’ve been looking out for it for years now and on the Friday, I was prescribed oestrogen for the symptoms I’ve begun experiencing since December. So, I guess I’m officially menopausal! But more significantly, this GP, whom I’d never met before, got very angry on my behalf when the subject of neurodiversity came up and I told her I’d been rejected for an assessment. She re-referred me then and there to a different company, totally validating my daily struggles. It wasn’t what I had gone to see her about, but she was engaged with me and took a holistic approach to treatment which is so bloody rare in today’s climate. Without this experience, I wouldn’t have been able to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation I was in on Saturday. I was even able to cite it on my assessment questionnaire.

The final motivation came from the love and pride I feel for my Godson. He’s had so much loss in his life as well as other big challenges out with his control, no-one who knows him can help but be impressed by the man he’s become and the life he is making with his beautiful wife. At the party, as well as celebrating him, I touched base with lots of extended family and spent quality time with a cousin and his partner that I’ve never had the chance to as an adult. As kids, he was very quiet so although in the sea of cousins I belong to, he and his big brother were two of my closest, I don’t think we ever had a conversation back then. His partner is my kind of crazy and the whole experience was extremely enriching. Hugs from your aunts and uncles are just as good for your nervous system as that little yellow bottle – in fact, probably infinitely better!

I had a calm and peaceful day on Sunday and dinner with my mum before hitting the road later than I should have to get back for work on Monday.

At this point, I need to backtrack to Friday again and say that I had made formal notice of my intention to leave. Heading to work on Monday, I wasn’t sure how that had been received or even if I was expected in that day. Although I have been at the same school for 2 years and in my current role for half of that, I do not have a contract. I’m employed through an agency which I chose for my benefit – the ability to pick and choose schools and working days being the main one. It has also come with lots of drawbacks, and I had been considering leaving for months.

I work with children who have support needs and I am very committed to providing that support. Taking a holistic approach, just as the GP had with me, has always been my signature as a teacher. It means a lot to kids with profiles like those I work with. It means they feel safe to blurt out things like “Miss, doesn’t it bug you that your fingernails are all different lengths?” (I wish I had the energy to care) and “Miss it’s just weird that you’re nearly 50 and you don’t have any wrinkles” (I’m actually very proud of that.) They know it’s safe to let what they’re thinking escape their mouths and I will understand they’re not being naughty or trying to insult me.

On Tuesday I had a long discussion with a Depute Head where I laid out all the things that had led to me submitting notice. I gave the terms under which I was willing to stay, namely a contract so I got paid even when there was a school break, and the power to effect change with regards to everything my vast experience has told me could be improved. The response came that the school couldn’t offer contracts and all that remained was to negotiate my leaving date. As the week went on, changes were already being made to address the issues I’d raised. A staff meeting was called to allow concerns to be raised and to set out the plans to address them.

The fact that in 3 weeks’ time, they are going to let their most qualified and experienced teacher walk out the door and take their skills elsewhere, stays unchanged. The reality of walking away from those children and not having those moments that make the challenges of educating them completely worth it, have played on my mind all week. We will keep it a secret until the last possible moment because it will not be received well, and while they process losing the teacher who laughs with them when someone farts or doesn’t get mad when they say they hate maths, their behaviours will escalate and the job will be a lot harder for everyone and especially me, the person who is abandoning them.

The sun was shining on Wednesday and if you read my previous post, you know how happy that makes me. I was pottering around the house with no plans to go outdoors when I just knew that I couldn’t let the chance to sit in the sun pass me by. Very quickly I made myself presentable and, to my immense surprise, located the uniform for the job I had when I first moved down South but had not yet returned, almost 3 years after leaving! When I worked there, I took full advantage of the building’s placement by sitting outside to eat my lunch or spending however long suited me watching the world go by after my shift had ended. I hadn’t done much of it at all since I stopped working there and I’ve decided to change that. When I got down there, I realised that if I handed the uniform into the main building reception, I could maximise my time in the sunshine. It’s not that I didn’t want to catch up with my old workmates, it’s just that it was now very late afternoon and I wanted to catch whatever was left of those golden rays.

It was a very beautiful hour or two, although I am a little worried about the busker who’s been stationed there since I was just a visitor who didn’t know they would decide to move their whole life down because of the peace I find in that spot, a vibrant live music scene, and a lack of the drama that comes with being too well known everywhere you go and therefore drawn in to the problems of all and sundry! After almost 3 years, I still try to remain as solitary as possible so I can worry only about my own drama. The busker has always been a character, but on Wednesday he was ranting to himself between songs, having a good moan about Linda or Lisa. I don’t exactly know who you go to when you are worried about someone you don’t really know. I can only hope someone in a position to check in with him reads this post and recognises what could be a friend in need. Thought processes like that are exactly where I hold accountability for some of the drama that finds me. Other people are not my problem to solve and often there is no thanks for flagging up concerns no-one wants to know about – just like in my work!

All things told, work has been easier this week knowing that I don’t have to navigate those problems much longer. But on Thursday, I didn’t have it in me to be understanding when students were talking about the current conflict in the Middle East in a very cavalier way. This was during lunch where staff and students share the same space. I informed the student I didn’t want to talk about it hoping to nip it in the bud. They continued, and I very firmly said over the top of them “I don’t want to talk about it.”

My senior students have become aware over time that I have a family member who lives an hour outside Dubai. My friends are aware that this family member is the one I have most contact with despite the distance. We WhatsApp each other pretty much daily, often sending long voice notes and getting deep about so many topics – they are a long-term student of Philosophy, and I have an enquiring mind that comes up with endless questions and sees things from many angles. Our prolific communications are largely down to the fact that no-one else really indulges this side of our personalities. As a result, we understand each other very well and are there for each other’s trials and tribulations. I’ve been concerned since news of the first bomb strike, but I probably didn’t realise how much until tears spilled and I had to go to the shop round the corner to compose myself. Moments like this are good for the students to see. First and foremost, they realise there’s a human aspect to something they are watching play out on social media and television. In a very small way, it helps that big problem of not thinking before speaking; but it takes a lot more than making their teacher cry to deprogram that impulse.

As I left work yesterday, I felt energised rather than exhausted by my week. In reality I was still tired and slept like a log, but at least I wasn’t emotionally wrung out. I have been assured by my agency that they will have a post for me after the Easter break, but I am no longer content with the terms and conditions of agency work so I’m looking for my next adventure. I’m even considering a leadership role, something I shied away from after taking on way too much responsibility early in life, leaving me burned out by the time I finished university.

This morning, I zoomed with my family in the Middle East. Both generations were in good humour and don’t seem terribly affected by things, other than their school and workplaces are closed and they are doing their thing online Mon – Fri. I could tell the 10-year-old wasn’t loving being stuck in the house, but otherwise they engaged pretty much as they always do. I felt better about things. Then there were more bomb strikes to remind me not to be complacent – I must keep praying for an end to this conflict and the safety of everyone involved.

I’ve just been distracted from writing by a group of men who came and sat beside where I have been quietly typing away on my laptop. I don’t know what to make of the chat but I can tell you they are bound to feature in a future blog post! I don’t think most of them have heard of the term ‘politically correct.’ They certainly didn’t get what they expected from the girl in the glasses sitting on her own. What they don’t know is that my mum has 12 brothers, I am big sister to three boys and in my early 20s I was sitting in meetings with rich, middle aged business men on a regular basis, holding a post that scared them and made them tiptoe around me. Groups of men in public do not intimidate me at all. I am much more wary of lone men and being alone with them because I know what can happen in those situations. Engaging in banter however, even when I am outnumbered six to one is a challenge that is easy to rise to and a sport I very much enjoy!

It’s definitely been a week. I hope the coming one doesn’t have any surprises in store.