Work vs. Life Cagematch!

I sometimes write for the Faculty Forum at the college where I teach. This is my latest article:

Work vs. Life Cagematch!
Rebecca Rine-Stone

A student recently came up to me after class with a concern. He had been out of school for twenty years, and he was nervous about his writing. I assured him that’s understandable, but I would do all that I could to give him the help he needed. Then he said, “Well, I’m intimidated by you because I mean, here you are the TEACHER. You don’t know how intimidating that is.” His assumption that I have my life neatly lined up enough to evoke awe caused me to nearly spit my cold Folgers out in laughter.

His perception at least assured me my outward appearance and professional persona are belying my true inner tug-of-war struggle, trying to find balance between work and life. I was relieved he wasn’t able to see behind the curtain of my production because there he would witness my career and personal life duking it out, ferociously yanking each other’s hair with bloodied nails and smeared mascara, shrieking, “She’s mine!” “No—she’s mine!” as I look on, mouth agape, wondering whom to devote attention to first.

So much time is spent focused on the students and what they need from us that I feel talking about work/life balance for teachers is akin to discussion of taboo topics such as money, religion, or admitting I love watching The Bachelor. Discussion of work/life balance is the proverbial elephant in the room for us. Talking about it feels too eerily close to complaining or not being grateful. It’s a daunting topic as well because I don’t want to come across as saying, “I give too much to my students. I’d like to start giving less, thank you very much.” The truth is, my goal is to reach and engage them but not at the expense of my entire brain and personal life.

In a recent Student Engagement meeting, a fellow adjunct instructor and I got to talking about work/life balance. I could feel my eyes widen as she expressed the same panicky consumption I’ve been feeling. I was finally shedding light on this dark truth! I thought this was my dirty little secret! So I’m not alone! The facilitator came by and we addressed the question to him: “How do you keep work from taking over your life?” His answer: “I’ll let you know when I figure that out!”

Oh. So the answer is there is no answer.

I understand that teaching is not just a job, it’s a life-consuming challenge, so is this tug-of-war between work and life inevitable and merely proof that I’m doing my job well with gumption? Does it prove I care? Is it the earning of my stripes? Maybe I should be concerned if I didn’t feel that tug. Maybe I’m just a newbie, and with time I’ll learn the art of gracefully billowing between work and life seamlessly like wind. I suspect not.

We devote a lot of time addressing the vital question of what we can do for students to keep them engaged, but I have to remind myself to also do things for me to take care of myself. I leave notes around my house reminding me to exercise, avoid yelling at my kids, and keep submitting my stories to publications. The truth is, however, the notes are just another façade behind the curtain. My definition of exercise is soon reduced to cracking my neck while reading essays. I inevitably lose patience with my kids, and submitting my stories to publications? It’s been a year since that’s happened.

But when I get to class I allow my students to pull, pull, pull. You have a late paper even though I said I cannot take late papers? Oh, you’re dad was sick, so yes, I’ll take it. I said no emailed papers….oh, but your printer is on the fritz? Well, okay, fine, email it to me. I find myself falling into the trap of sometimes giving them more than they’re giving me, but I rationalize it by telling myself I don’t want to be the one factor that stands in the way of their future. I am perhaps so concerned with what they need from me that I forget what I need from me.

We ask students what they want out of college and we work as hard as we can to get them there, but in the process should we allow it to deplete us? It’s a “put your oxygen mask on first before you can help others” scene. I crave oxygen sometimes. If we’re a faculty who is so committed to putting the oxygen on the students first without first putting the oxygen on ourselves, what does that say about us? We too don’t deserve and need it?

All the information at the Student Engagement conferences has been compelling and intriguing, and I’m always wondering what else I can do to make my classes come alive. There’s a teaching to-do list in my brain that feels like a hamster on a wheel: Create an example for the students; Do some more group activities, but be careful because so-and-so doesn’t like group work---think about what might reach him; Create a fresh writing exercise that gets them excited about the assignment…Then this teaching-based to-do list starts to stare down my personal to-do list: Check out summer camps for daughter—maybe they have financial aid?; I should really try incorporating more vegetables into our diet, son still cringes at broccoli but I will conquer; Find a babysitter—haven’t had a date night with the hubs in a year; Car’s still making that crazy sound—oil change?

A lot is expected from a teacher, and I take these responsibilities seriously. We need to reach the students, offer them hands-on learning experiences, engage them, excite them, light fires in their bellies, lead them, teach them to lead, challenge them with new thought, etc. I’m completely on board with this noble mission, but I need someone to teach me a thing or two about how to do this without losing myself.