When the cool kids say “teacher X” is a pain, everyone agrees. Most don’t actually think she’s a pain, but there is harmony in being on the same page and the moment passes quickly. Sometimes it’s possible to get away with saying nothing, and that guilt weighs just a little less heavily afterwards. To speak up for teacher X would be unthinkable and draw all of the wrong attention. That moment would linger long into the future and result in some label or name that would be impossible to remove.
Some scripts and scenes are easily recognised – the above is one, and the back-to-school sighs and “oh no”, “dammit” or stronger is another. It’s been the same old story for a long time with just an occasional change to catch the eye. Until this year I don’t think I have seen a store promote back-to-school and Halloween simultaneously! I’m also convinced I have never seen a greater variety of schoolbags – young children cannot possibly benefit from the pressure of such choice. Not to mention the low-hanging fruit of the teasing that comes with having the wrong bag. A high price can be paid at school for choices made at home, perhaps by home. After all, who among us is as cool when we are with our parents as we are with our peers?
Complaining about going back to school has always been a thing, and to a point it is healthy to bemoan the end of a summer filled with lie-ins and devoid of obligations. A new academic year also brings the training sessions and fixtures of the many sports and activities young people enjoy, and which ease off or come to a complete stop in summer. Our social scene widens again, bringing so much more to observe and for our inner circle to dissect and chew over.
There are many people we don’t consciously cross paths with over the break but who feature heavily on the agenda of who we talk about. The plot lines would run dry quickly if we had to depend on social media for updates. We are hard-wired for connection, and returning to school reconnects us. This is a wonderful thing, but perhaps it isn’t cool to say that.
We also thrive on structure and routine. Given that plenty of adults struggle to achieve effective routines when the structured timetable dissolves, what chance do youngsters have? While plenty of young people work summer jobs and this keeps things somewhat on track, many don’t and their long, lazy summer must fade into the background for bags to be packed and bells to ring. Another beautiful thing, especially if the alternative is being conditioned to lounging around at one’s own pace when so young.
And being up (early) and moving purposefully through the day as we follow the timetable means we achieve the mental and physical stimulation that livens the mind and burns the calories. This full-on engagement with school, indeed life itself, brings with it a full range of emotions. On any given day in school I laugh uproariously at the clown in the staffroom as we teachers come together to release some of the strain of the teaching day. That’s not to say that within the hour I won’t be at a meeting with some of those same colleagues, desperately trying to understand their perspective.
The strong connection I felt over coffee gives way to feelings of frustration and anger, but I know that they too shall pass. Exchanging differing views is a crucial part of professional conversations, and when these get heated, it’s a reflection of the passion we feel as educators and leaders.
We ride the waves of many different emotions in the course of a school day as we encounter the ever-changing student cohorts (secondary) and subjects (primary). There is a balance between managing these emotions and displaying them enough to authentically model what a healthy person experiences in the course of any day.
Young people speaking openly of not wanting to feel a certain way is a cry for help and one to which we need to consider our response. Our response frequently finds us recruited as an ally in suppressing perfectly healthy emotional reactions. Professionals are also recruited on to this team, and the levels of prescription medication being administered to young people demands that we ask more questions about where this is all leading.
Until we start normalising what is normal, people will continue to wonder what is “wrong” with them. It is normal to regret the early starts that school brings, and the fact that there is more work when all we want to do is chill out. Disagreements with classmates and colleagues? Also normal. There is nothing wrong with anyone who is having a healthy emotional response to those things.
Psychologist Susan David calls it out magnificently in her enlightening Ted talk when she talks about all the people who told her that they did not want to feel certain emotions. She assured them that she understood and then continued: “But you have dead people’s goals. Only dead people never get unwanted or inconvenienced by their feelings. Only dead people never get stressed, never get broken hearts, never experience the disappointment that comes with failure.”
It is a beautiful thing that we are physically well enough for the return to school to even be a prospect. Many for whom that isn’t possible envy us our dread. How we adults respond to perfectly natural apprehensions about young people’s return to school matters massively. We can either guide the focus towards the many benefits of returning and incite curiosity and excitement, or we can validate their fears and risk amplifying their concerns and the corresponding emotions.
Can there be any doubt which is better?
