Approximate reading time: 10 min
I have a confession to make.
When I posted my “I’m sooooo happy post” last Monday I had pretty much had the worst day teaching I have had in just over a year.
(It was horrible)
All I needed to do was come home and proofread my post, one last time, before posting it and I was dammed if I was going to allow “The Monday from Hell” to ruin my good couple of weeks of happiness.
It was rather disingenuous of me, I know.
But I’m owning up to it now.
*******
So for the last two weeks, I have been teaching four days a week in a year 3 class in one of my absolute favourite schools. Unfortunately what the school failed to mention, when they originally made the booking, was that on that Monday I would be covering a Year 5 class.
My preference for teaching is normally Nursery up to about year 3.
That being said, I have started, in the last year or so very slowly moving up in year groups. If it is a school that I am familiar with and I know what the behaviour of the kids in the lower year groups is like then I am more open and willing to give the older classes a try.
(Up to year 5 only – Year 6’s fill me with astronomical terror!)
As much as I adore the little ones, I have found, much to my surprise that I actually really enjoy working with ‘most’ of the older children. Since I started studying the attachment theory I have really become very conscious of the importance of being in tune with the kids and making a concerted effort to connect with each of them on an individual level. One of the things that I have started doing, in the last year or so, is greeting each child separately as they come into the class in the mornings. Often the kids come in, in dribs and drabs…which gives me time to go up to them introduce myself; ask them their names and just have a quick chat.
It’s such a simple gesture but I seriously cannot even begin to tell you what a HUGE impact on the kids behaviour.
(It’s like supply teacher GOLD DUST, I tell ya!)
If I know I won’t have enough time when they come in then I make a point of finding out the names of the more…mmm… ‘challenging’ children in the class and at least make an attempt to connect with them.
In the last year or so I have honestly had some amazing days in some pretty difficult classes.
I pride myself on being a teacher that rarely gets angry and shouts.
(Ha)
Anyway, so I found out I was going to year 5 and I wasnt really that worried.
I have never had a bad day in this school so it was going to be a piece of cake.
(Ha)
I arrive in the morning only to discover that we were doing shape translations in maths.
Fuck I hate translations!
(or any type of grid work
….I think this links up to my absolute aversion to reading maps!!
There is deep-seated trauma linked to MAPS which I have yet to UNEARTH people! )
I sat down and was trying to go over the lesson before the kids arrived
(feeling ever so slightly anxious)
when a lady came in to tell me that in the afternoon all the years, 5’s and 6’s were going to be playing football against each other.
FYI: If there is one thing in this world that I hate more than maps….it’s football.
(Whyyyyyyyyyy me God?)
As she is leisurely talking me through all the plans for that afternoon I am getting even more panicked because the class will be arriving any minute now and I need to go over their lesson. I would have suggested that we talk during lunch but apparently, I was only going to get 15 minutes for lunch today.
(Like hell I am!)
“Ummmm I’m only getting 15 minutes for lunch?
I inquired, incredulously
*********
One thing that I have learnt about myself as a highly sensitive person in the past couple of years is my need to have proper downtime during lunch to unwind. I realise that my nervous system is constantly absorbing mounds of information and consequently trying to process it all at the same time.
If I don’t have time to relax and recoup properly I get overwhelmed quite easily.
It was one of the ABSOLUTE BIGGEST lessons I learn from my reception job two years ago….where we were only given 30 minutes a day for lunch. By the time I had finished cleaning up and prepping for the next lesson, I was usually lucky if I got to sit for 15 minutes and have my lunch.
It was utterly exhausting and part of my self-care from that point on was to promise myself that I would ALWAYS protect my right to have a proper
(legally required break)
during lunch.
So NOOOOOO,
15 minutes just ain’t gonna cut it lady!
Of course, I never said THAT
(I’m not rude)
but she definitely picked up on my ‘not happy vibes’ and all of a sudden she managed to organise that all the teachers could have 30min instead.
(Small win!)
By the time the kids all filed in I had briefly looked at the lesson but was very aware as to how anxious I was feeling. All the kids came in at once, a little bit like a hurricane, leaving me no time to greet any of them. I also realised that I had completely forgotten to ask who the ‘characters’ in the class were.
One of the things that has really helped me understand my anxiety these last couple of years is the realization that although my anxiety is often triggered by my thoughts it is a purely physical thing.
As I stood in front of the class I was able to notice the boot on my chest, my throat was tight and constricted and there wasn’t an inch of me that was able to go and “be sociable” with the kids. My usual relaxed ‘introduction’ to the children…felt laboured and pained as all these faces stared up at me in what felt like….amusement?
They had that look on their faces that roughly translated to:
“Mmmmmm fresh supply bait!!”
(Yes, I instantaneously developed the power to mind read!)
I soon discovered that this was a tough class.
The points system that I use for managing the class’s behaviour
(that normally works really well in most classes)
seemed of little interest to them. I was the ‘but’ of the oh-so-cliched “Give the supply teacher the wrong name” gag, which had the class in hysterics. One child in particular, Gillian, seemed to make it her life’s mission to point out every little thing that I did differently to her teacher and then argue with me as to why it should be done THAT way. She sat there smirking at me, constantly leaning over to whisper to her friends with her eyes fixed on me in a mocking glare.
Gillian made my blood boil.
I can’t even begin to tell you how triggered and angry I felt with her entitlement and rudeness.
Deep down I knew that this was just an incredibly wounded little child who was simply acting out her own shame….and all I needed to do was love her.
My head knew this!!!
Alas, I failed hopelessly.
At that point in time trying to access ANY compassion or empathy for Gillian felt impossible.
*****
The afternoon football was a little horrendous.
We were 3 children short for the final team which meant I needed to choose three substitutes to play again with the last team. Even though all the children were there when I explained this to the class many of them were beside themselves in fury when they saw that these children were getting a chance to play an extra game.
The rage this lit in a large handful of these kids was unbelievable…..It was an afternoon of very loud and aggressive “ITS NOT FAIR!!!”
and no amount of re-explaining the situation to them seemed to help.
I was asked to ensure that all the children watching the game were sitting down.
They just wouldn’t listen to me at AT ALL.
I might as well have been a ghost.
The more I tried to ‘control’ and ‘manage’ their behaviour…
the worse they got!
CAN YOU IMAGINE THAT!!!!!!!
I could almost hear my internal mother laughing as she watched me fight a losing battle….
with myself.
“Have a couple of Xanax and Chillax my darling!!!”
But her words fell on deaf ears.
I am ashamed to admit that I was NOT my best teacher self on Monday.
“Oh Ye who never shouts or gets angry”
…..shouted a couple of times.
(While I definitely didn’t rage at them,
the internal rage was defeating.)
Spending three hours outside in the hot sun
(Without any suntan lotion or a hat!!!!)
didn’t help much either.
I spent most of the day just reminding myself to breathe and that the day would be over soon.
At the end of the day, I was left feeling slightly confounded.
How is it I have all the patience in the world for the little ones and find it relatively easy to contain their anger and frustrations but yet I am so triggered by teens
(and apparently pre-teens?)
who seem to send me into a complete shame spiral?
As luck would have it I am currently reading an amazing book called “Healing the shame that binds you” By John Bradshaw.
Honestly, it is one of the absolute best books about shame that I have ever read. I don’t normally make recommendations but dam this book is good!
He talks a lot about ‘parts work‘
(I have already done quite a bit of part work)
and how it is often those people that we like least that are mirroring back unconscious parts of ourselves that we have disowned.
Uuuuuuurg!!!!!
It got me really thinking about Gillian and wondering what part of me was she mirroring.
Without a doubt it would be my stroppy, dish-it-out but can’t take it, gotta-be-in-control, teenage part Mara-Keres.
I realise that Mara-Keres is a part that comes out every now and then when I feel emotionally threatened. For many of my earlier years when I was waitressing and or doing bar work in night clubs, she was my protector and on constant high alert.
A shitty, inappropriate comment from a man…..Mara-Keres had a sarky, shaming response at the tip of her tongue.
She could argue her point with the best of them.
I am relatively proud that Mara-Keres no longer feels the need to show herself these days.
And yet, on Monday
there she was…..
in all her glory making sure I knew that she is still alive and breathing!
(Internally, of course,
I was most certainly not bitchy or rude to any of the kids)
It got me thinking about how miserable and scared Mara-Kares was underneath all her bravado. How she was driven by this constant fear to look tough and protect my more sensitive, caring parts. I remember all the guilt and shame that was induced every time she lashed out at someone.
That in turn made me think of Gillian…
Imagine living with your own ‘Mara-Keres’ 24/7, feeling so threatened by everyone that all you can do is criticise and find fault with others. Gillian utilises the rather extreme end of the C-attachment strategy and it is pretty obvious that she is not a very happy child.
I realise that there are going to be many more Gillians in my life….
and that these days I feel somewhat grateful for them.
They shine a light on those parts that still need healing.
They continue to teach how to be more compassionate and understanding…
(even if it takes a while;-)
But most importantly they remind me to love myself unconditionally,
no matter what part of me turns up.
Written on the 13th of June 2021
Brief Redemption
Such a beautiful summer day
Warms on my skin
Filled with peace
Gratitude floods back in
Conscious of my breath
Absolutely present in the now
It’s times like these
I feel like I’m walking on clouds
I’d like to say I banished Lyssa
That she’ll be gone for good
But I’m certain she’ll reappear
To drag me through the woods
One thing that gets stronger
Each time she comes to brood
Is the knowledge that she’s not
Going to be
my permanent mood
Learning to contain the emotions
That bubble from years gone by
Conscious of how my anxiety
Started as a child
Finding the means to express
My anger
My rage
Even if it’s just pouring it down
On a blank page