Is it possible to care too much?

Post by Ben Gould

If any of this chimes with anyone, and you want to talk about any of it, I really do want to hear it & I am in A102 or email B.Gould2@brighton.ac.uk

That’s a question I’ve pondered during my latest research. I have wanted to explore the emotional impact that the relational component has on teacher wellbeing. By relational I follow Huberman (1994) who suggests it is the creating or building, maintaining and then ultimately the destruction of relationships. As teachers this is a natural part of our job as a ‘helping professional’ and I think one we often take for granted. But, how much do we consider it as a factor in our own wellbeing?

Recently my research has looked at the connections between the emotional burden that comes from teaching (aligned in many ways to the emotional labour that the job demands) and also through the emotional attachment involved in the multiple forming of relationship (between you and students, parents, carers, other teachers and staff, police, counsellors) how much of this leaves teachers in or with a state of compassion fatigue.

Price (2001) says that teaching is a profession that requires us to absorb and contain the anxiety, frustrations and anger of the students during the learning process and this places an emotional burden upon the teacher who contains these emotions and attempts to lessen the burden on the student. The role of a teacher extends far beyond the classroom though and increasingly teachers are part of meetings with social services and local authorities to discuss welfare plans for students in their care. This ‘access’ to often difficult to process home lives further adds to the emotional burden placed upon teachers.

The old adage in teaching is often ‘I came into the profession to make a difference’. It is in most teachers’ DNA to help. So, when they see a young person in need they often always go above and beyond what many would see as necessary to ensure the student feels their needs are being met. When this happens regularly (and in teaching this is an all too regular occurrence) then the likelihood is that the teacher is likely to feel their ability to contain more emotional content is getting full and the knock-on effect of that is a position of compassion fatigue.

So, what do we do when we care so much that it strips us of our ability to care anymore? Teachers leave the profession in ever increasing numbers. Research has suggested that somewhere between 50 – 71% of teachers leave the career within 5 years of starting (House of Commons Education and Skills Committee, 2004; Gorard et al., 2007 and Fenwick & Weir, 2010). This figure represents something fundamentally broken in our system. It suggests the problem itself is systemic. The Government’s latest answer to this is the Education Staff Wellbeing Charter (Gov.uk, 2021). This reads more as a pledge than anything tangible to halt the flood of attrition that teaching as a profession is currently experiencing. A bit part of the lack of tangible steps might lie in the complex manner in which relationships impacts teacher wellbeing. If the repeated creation, maintenance and destruction of relationships places such an emotional burden upon teachers, how can a government ever fix it? The problem comes from the relational nature of the profession, so if you attempt to remove that, you remove the ‘essence’ of why so many teachers came into the profession in the first place. Unfortunately, that sometimes is the situation for teachers. They reach a point of compassion fatigue which means they are unable to take any more emotional content from the students and those around them. If factors in their lives don’t allow them to leave the profession (as so many do) then they may choose to stay in the profession and develop coping strategies that protect them from further burden. This is typically defined as ‘burnout’ where the overwhelming exhaustion that comes from experiencing this emotional content and the overextension and depletion of one’s emotional and physical resources, leading to the person’s detachment from their own sense of meaning or purpose of their role and increase a position of disequilibrium of their own wellbeing (Maslach et al., 2001; Thoits, 1995). This position can result in young people now not being able to alleviate their own emotions as they may have done previously and in turn likely leaves them in varying degrees of anxiety.

Have these teachers committed any great crime of the teaching profession? No, they have cared too much, for too long and have nowhere or no way to safely remove it from themselves. Here, the second phase of my research aims to explore this acknowledgement and safe removal of emotional content or ‘stressors’ to allow teachers to ‘decontain’ or drain their containment in a safe and appropriate way. The slightly surprising thing about how this is done exists in the Janus-like role that relationships play in the process. Janus is the Roman god that is depicted by two opposite faces (see picture below). Relationships operate as a Janus-like term in teaching as they may both be the cause of increased emotional burden and compassion fatigue, but at the same time be the cure to sucessfully removing that burden. Through the use of non-outcome focused, peer to peer support networks it is hoped that the process of Active Listening will allow teachers to engage in a ‘supervision’ like session where they are able to offload the emotions to a colleague with whom they have selected and trust and that this deliberate act of Active Listening will allow the teacher’s inner world feelings and emotions to be projected in the outer world, which releases it safely from the ego. This follows the ideads of Freudian and Post-Freudian Psychoanalysis with particular reference to Free Association that allows the sub-conscious to become conscious thought and expressed, but this is not without its challenges. Freud recognised the mechanisms by which the human mind protected itself from anixety and anxiety provoking thought through denial, projection and displacement to name three. These defensive mechanisms operate effectively if the required outcome is survival, but is surviving as a teacher really all we can hope for? If we learn to get beneath the defense mechanisms to the emotional burdens of our roles then we free our unconcious of the held emotional stressors as they become conscious in conversation with our chosen, trusted friend.

It is hoped that these valuable conversations between teachers, when formalised will allow teachers to remain emotionally available for their students whilst also having a safe space to ‘decontain’ those emotions themselves.

So, is it possible to care too much? In this system we can easily fall into a pattern where we need to be ‘everything to everyone’ and absorb those emotional stressors from all angles. We do this because it’s part of what drew us to the profession in the first place, and when it stops everyone loses. Students don’t feel supported and we, as teachers, are locked in survival mode. We want to care with everything we have, but we need mechanisms in place to allow us deal with those emotions effectively, and I hope this research might begin to explore this role.

If any of this chimes with anyone, and you want to talk about any of it, I really do want to hear it & I am in A102 or email B.Gould2@brighton.ac.uk

*To stay true to my principles I have written this as a free association and just let my mind focus on what it wants to try and say. Therefore, I apologise for spelling errors and structural issues that may present as a blur on the page. But, it’s all a work in progress!

DfES. (2004). Secondary Education: Teacher Retention and Recruitment. London: The Stationery Office

Fenwick, A., & Weir, D. (2010). The impact of disrupted and disjointed early professional development on beginning teachers. Teacher Development, 14(4), 501-517. Retrieved from http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/13664530.2010.533491

Gorard, S., Huat-See, B., Smith, E., & White, P. (2007). What can we do to strengthen the teacher workforce? International Journal of Lifelong Education, 26(4), 419–437.

Gov.uk. (2021). Education Staff Wellbeing Charter. HMSO Retrieved from https://www.gov.uk/guidance/education-staff-wellbeing-charter

Huberman, A. M., Grounauer, M.-M., & Marti, J. (1993). The lives of teachers: Teachers College Press.

Maslach, C., Schaufeli, W. B., & Leiter, M. P. (2001). Job burnout. Annual review of psychology, 52(1), 397-422.

Price, H. (2001). Emotional labour in the classroom: A psychoanalytic perspective. Journal of Social Work Practice, 15(2), 161-180. doi:10.1080/02650530120090610

Thoits, P. A. (1995). Stress, coping, and social support processes: Where are we? What next? Journal of health and social behavior, 53-79.

Sea dipping joy: Connections, community, challenge 

Post by Rosie Moore, Sharon Reilly and Lis Bundock

I am not the bravest sea swimmer when it’s cold and I don’t like big waves. Sea dipping has taught me that the sea is strong and winter breeze chilling and that we need to treat them with respect and know our limits. What matters is to listen to yourself rather than follow others. This is a lesson that can serve you in many other circumstances. A lesson in wisdom and confidence in what your body and mind tell you. And if one day you are not up to it, to just stay on the shore, watch others and enjoy the sunrise (M)

In late August 2021, a casual conversation between four members of staff in the School of Education, reflecting on a concern to maintain health, integrity and a ‘desirable work identity’ (Jones, 2022, p142) resulted in the forging of a series of ‘activity clubs’ for members of staff. The activities were to be integrated into the workday and were designed to offer a restorative space with the possibility of incidental conversations which were increasingly absent from our workspace. Though this absence resulted in part from the reconfiguration of working practices following the pandemic, some staff had already articulated a relational disconnection emerging from creeping managerial practices which prioritised efficiency and accountability. For some this absence was sorely felt, as such encounters had historically contributed to a sense of wellbeing, connection and creativity.  

The tutors curated activities with which they had some experience and recognising the benefits and therapeutic nature of sea swimming which can provide ‘a mental immersive engagement with the environment that takes one outside of oneself’ (Denton et al, 2021, p3), decided to include a sea swimming option where those interested met on the beach at 7.30am on a Wednesday morning before work.

By the time we reached summer, it was only the sea dipping group that was still active. This was intriguing as pre-sunrise starts in the depth of winter might be deemed less appealing than a 40 minute walk through the woods in our lunch break. We decided to probe this by inviting SoE dippers to share written reflections with us as a way of understanding their experiences. Three strong themes emerged from the reflections: connections, community and challenge which we explore below.

Connections

The SoE dippers created a sense of connection that had been missing from our lives. One of the consequences of the pandemic was a loss of connection with the wider circle of people who influence us and sea swimming reignited those connections. Connections began via the WhatsApp group; organising times, arranging meetings and analysing Magic Seaweed to assess conditions. Connections developed through sharing photos, experiences and stories.

Our relationship with the sea and nature became more important as the seasons changed and we were still swimming throughout the winter months. The group got smaller, but the connection to nature and the group became stronger.  

As the weeks went by I experienced regular moments of shared joy at the winter sunrises, at flocks of birds flying above us. As time progressed, I swam at other times, alone and with other groups,  I felt a shift. No longer was the sea simply out there, something to look at, it had become part of my life (J)

The sea became part of our lives, Wednesday mornings were no longer just a swim but something that felt special, connecting with like-minded people and nature, work colleagues becoming friends. We got to experience a connection with beautiful winter sunrises, the changing weather, flocks of birds flying above and swimming amongst shoals of fish. White (cited in Hunt, 2019) describes water as having a psychological restorative effect and notes that the ‘blue space’ seems to offer more benefits over other natural environments. This connection with the ‘blue space’, the SoE dippers and nature created a sense of well-being, a positive mood that lasted throughout the day.

After our dip, we often just gaze at the sea, marvelling at the view. I’m really grateful for the opportunity to start the day being close to nature, having some exercise, enjoying the company of friends and delighting in Susie’s delicious home-bakes (D)

Community

Strongly emerging from the group’s reflections was the importance of community. The meetings on the beach provided a mental and physical space that resulted in a sense of belonging, moving the dippers beyond some of the isolation we might have experienced during the pandemic. The SoE dippers talked of a sense of togetherness, sharing and belonging in their reflections. Some identified this rebuilding of community as spilling into the workplace, reflecting the notion of an external community as a source of solidarity back in the university (Jones, 2022). 

The SoE dippers created the feeling of we are all in this together, it felt that we were part of something special (S)

 Admiring a beautiful sunrise together makes time stop for a bit longer before we go our separate ways (M)

The cohesion of the community was attributed to its non-judgmental, supportive and welcoming nature and strengthened by its emerging rituals exemplified by A’s comment that: The loveliness of the swimming group is for me its lack of expectation….you can talk about your deepest anxieties or your shopping or nothing at all and nobody judges while J comments that ‘Each week forced me to step out of my comfort zone but in a safe space reinforced by the rituals of our early morning gathering’

While our dipping might initially have been motivated by the need to find a restorative space away from the experience of a sometimes disconnected and performative workplace, we soon found ourselves members of a spontaneous and supportive community which had the potential to orient us back at work in both how we connected to others and how we experienced its challenges. This is crystalised in D’s statement:

I feel totally refreshed, relaxed and ready for whatever the day will bring (D)

Challenge

The collective reflections on dipping have highlighted how much our experiences are infused with the notion of challenge, be it psychological, physical or emotional. Weekly dips require a commitment to an early start that at certain times in the year demand an absolute disregard for lack of daylight or below zero temperatures. For many, there’s something about the unpredictable ‘prize’ of the dip that permits each of us to abandon the warmth of our duvets and head out into the cold morning air.

Usually I am pretty rubbish about jumping out of bed in the morning, and have to make an effort when it’s especially early, but it’s different when it’s for swimming (D)

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the shared reflections point to the challenge of conditioning the body and the mind to find sanctuary in the water. M suggests that, for her, getting into the cold water each week means shifting beyond a formulaic mantra akin to focussing mind over matter and requires her to teach her ‘brain and body to register the cold, and through deep breathing, accept it and make friends with it’. 

And there is, of course, the ‘prize’ at the end of all this and it’s different for each of us. For some it’s the ‘elation as you sit on the beach afterwards’, for others it’s the overcoming of the ‘fear of the cold’ and for one or two of us, it is finding attunement  with the call of the sea and enabling our bodies and minds to momentarily be at one with the ocean.  

The sea dipping group has brought us a sense of community, challenge and connection, to each other and to the environment. It is a restorative space yet its reach is beyond the joy of the early-morning moments. It supports us in maintaining our wellbeing and importantly our integrity:

What matters is to listen to yourself rather than follow others………..A lesson in wisdom and confidence in what your body and mind tell you (M)

 

 

If you think you would like to join the weekly dipping group then do come along and join us. We meet every Wednesday at 7.30am opposite Concorde 2.

Rosie Moore, Sharon Reilly, Lis Bundock – July 2022

 

 

 

References

Denton, H., Dannreuther, C. and Aranda, K., 2021. Researching at sea: Exploring the ‘swim-along’interview method. Health & Place, 67, p.102466.

Hunt, E., 2019. Blue spaces: Why time spent near water is the secret of happiness. The Guardian, 3.

Jones, D.R., 2022, Academic leisure crafting: More than a respite to breathe? BERA Vol XLVIII, no 1

It’s not about you…. And think about Lewes!

Post by Dr. Jane Melvin

I question myself and what I thought I knew all the time now. What privilege do I have as a white, 60-something year old? Am I less privileged because I am also a cisgender woman? I ask these questions to try to get my head around it …

These things are in my head often, and I debate with myself about my own wokeness and how that word has been turned into pejorative by the press and politicians. Press and politicians who are in the main white, cisgender men of a certain age who are totally unaware of how their privilege of whiteness and maleness determines their lives, but who will fight against anything that threatens to knock them off the top of the pile.  I retweet and repost the thoughts of others and myself in an effort to object, to challenge, to educate.

Liz Pemberton – The Black Nursery Manager (@lizpemtbnm) – came to work with a group of colleagues from the SoE, and to deliver anti-racist training. This involved ‘de-centring’ whiteness in order to examine how this aspect of social identity bestows privilege. In her publication ‘The Beginner’s Guide to Anti-Racism’, she describes how,Liz Pemberton - the Black Nursery Manager

 

 

“…a scale of privilege and oppression could include how much money we have, our gender, our religion, our race, whether we are disabled or able-bodied, our mental health or sexual orientation.” (The Black Nursery Manager, 2022, p5)

 

 

 

 

A continuum exercise to enabled us to try to experience this and asked us to rank ourselves according to privilege. My colleagues were puzzled, flummoxed some might say, and experienced discomfort when trying to talk about privilege, what that meant and where to place themselves on the line. Some were silent, some defensive, some clearly out of their depth, and others were intrigued and animated. Was it about rank, hierarchy, wealth, gender or what? In my discussions, race didn’t come up at all. It became a visceral and uncomfortable experience for many because the final line-up wasn’t about us, it was based on Liz’s perception as a black, cisgender, younger woman. Based purely on what she saw, white men at one end and the oldest white women at the other.

Another quote from her guide to anti-racism explains that,

“White privilege does not mean that you will have never faced any form of discrimination or prejudice, but it does mean that one of the reasons that you won’t have faced discrimination or prejudice is because of the colour of your skin.” (ibid)

People began to realise that whiteness causes us to overlook how race or ethnicity might result in prejudice, discrimination, or bad treatment. Whiteness brokers a passage of privilege. Of course,

“… we live in an unequal society that means that we all sit on a spectrum of privilege and oppression based on a wide range of things and how these things may intersect or overlap … In a society that has racism baked into it, the ways in which racism shows up may not always be obvious to you because if you are white, you may have just always thought of particular things as normal.” (ibid)

I have had experiences in my life where my whiteness has been called into question and has caused me to be treated differently. In China where my privilege, as a white ‘westerner’ meant that I was rushed to the head of queues despite my protests, and that included an older lady being thrown out of a toilet cubicle for me! I would also be stopped in the street for families wanting to take photographs. In Namibia, it was very different. As a comparatively new republic (1990), I was one of one only 4 white faces in an audience of 200 listening to the education minister. It was made very clear to us that they were trying to erase the colonial influence of what used to be German Southwest Africa, and that they really didn’t need white people to come and ‘do it’ for them. A very uncomfortable feeling and yet enriching, because these experiences have enabled me to reflect, to be more conscious of my privilege, to try to not assume. However, I cannot claim that this means that I know what racism feels like on a day-to-day basis.

Throughout, we were asked to think about Lewes… why you might ask? From the perspective of a younger, black cisgender woman, travelling solo for work, where would you wish to stay so that you could feel relaxed, refreshed and energised for the work ahead after a 3-hour car journey? Perhaps not a very white hotel called the White Hart in the centre of very white Lewes? If you look at the website there are no black faces, and even the bed linen is white! Trying to place ourselves in her shoes (because it wasn’t about us, was it?) in terms of how that might feel and what that might mean in terms of safety and wellbeing, was challenging because our own familiarity with Lewes and its whiteness means that we might wonder what the problem was? Would we ever have to question or give a thought about staying there?

Anti-racist, anti-oppressive work is really challenging. I believe that learning though experience is one of the only ways to start to understand, otherwise, we just exist in the social identity bubble that we’ve always known. Think about your social identity: what has causes you to feel discriminated against, to have assumptions made about who you are, to feel pre-judged, othered, offended, appalled, angry, or unsafe? Is it gender, ethnicity, age, dis/ability, class, sexuality or something else? Maybe it’s about multiples of those things, and about how these aspects intersect? Can those experiences enable you to de-centre your whiteness in order to become more aware?

I will close with a challenge from Liz,

“Positioning anti-racist practice as an ongoing lifelong journey means that you are an active participant and not a passive recipient, so the

responsibility is yours to update your knowledge in this subject matter.” (ibid, p8)

How do we do this in the SoE? How do we keep this on the agenda? How is this disseminated to all colleagues. How do we challenge and dismantle the structural inequalities? How can we start to ‘see’ what we offer through the eyes and experiences of others whose social identities are not the same as ours?

The Black Nursery Manager (2022). The Beginner’s Guide to Anti-Racism. Tapestry. Available at: https://tapestry.info/a-beginners-guide-to-anti-racism.html Accessed 30.6.22.

Dr J Melvin, June 2022