Lessons From the Trenches of Education
Whether you call it overwhelm or burnout, I’m there.
Truth is, I live there because I never left. It’s easy to feel the weight of stress when you wear anxiety like an armor. In many ways, chaos is my identity becaue it’s where I feel comfortable. The nostalgia with emotional and financial instability is the blanket that keeps me warm at night.
So when I interviewed for this job and was asked about burnout, I shrugged it off as an offset to bubble baths and edibles but that was in relationship to the mental struggles of trying to save everyone who needs help.
I am not a miracle worker no matter how many times I ignore my own boundaries.
Two months in and I’m realizing it was never the kids that stress me out. I love talking to misguided young adults. 30 years ago, I was one of them. To some extent, they are the inner child that I am supposed to nurture.
It’s not too late to impact their trajectory in life and that is the guiding light that keeps me waking up at 4am.
The shitty attendance, inconsistent school performance, all of the roaming in the halls, cutting classes to hang with friends, talking back to teachers who don’t “get it,” and the lack of motivation to do the bare minimum – I relate too much with these kids.
I know what it feels like to be unseen and misunderstood – to be called lazy and unmotivated, all while struggling to cultivate the coping skills needed to process all of the trauma of growing up in poverty and all that comes with that.
So much of my unraveling was related to how I had to reimagine my values, integrity, and purpose. I fought myself to create balance between ambition + ease, productivity + leisure, and hustle + flow. It wasn’t easy giving up the high standards I had for myself.
The “work” they always talk about is about giving yourself permission to be imperfect.
It’s also about recognizing within yourself AND for yourself that the unrealistic expectations you have were taught under the guise of developing a work ethic when it was really an exercise in self-exploitation.
I confront this within myself every day when I wake up at 4am. I wonder how sustainable is my desire to pursue a calling when it’s costing me peace of mind. Some days I am comfortable with the sacrifices. Other days, I am not.
This work is easy, if it means spending your waking time committed to empowering a community that needs to recognize their own power, individually and collectively.
It’s never the kids.
It’s always been the adults that make these careers so challenging. The politics, conflicting agendas, secret plotting – it’s like crabs in a bucket but with college degrees. And yet, when I call it out…I’m wrong.
When I challenge authority, I’m wrong. When I question the chain of command, I’m wrong. When I raise concerns about incompetence, I’m wrong.
The last place I worked at was a crash course in toxic work environments. I never thought I’d get to a point where I’d share details of my experience but the more I work at a supportive work environment, the angrier I get about how bad it was.
I’m at such a better place right now and that speaks to the value of having a strong support team.
Bitterness and resentfulness are not where I want to narrate this experience. There are always learning lessons to be gained at even the most darkest of places. I love what I do. I never thought I’d feel so joyful working with young adults.
I get to apply all of the strategy and storytelling expertise I’ve developed over the last 20 years and apply it with teens who not only resonate with my vibe but also crave a holistic approach that respects their autonomy.
In many ways, the students from the last job healed me in ways I didn’t know I was wounded and this new group of students are giving me the space to help them heal their own insecurities about life and the pursuit of purpose.
I try my best to not be like the adults that restrict their creativity or quirky growth potential.
We’re all misfit spirits trying to make sense of a life without having a sense of self.