With blood, sweat and tears blinding my vision as I walked into the sunlight, it didn’t matter because I had made it. I had responded to the screams for help; I had survived (just) the constant barrage of attacks and I had managed to get to the other side with minimal casualties.
Yes, I was exhausted. Yes, I was bruised physically and emotionally. And yes, there were days where I felt I could no longer go on but I had made it. I had managed to drag my beaten body to the summer term; to the end of the school year.
At points it was touch and go. With end of year reports – for eighty pupils that I had only known for several weeks – assessments, GL assessments, origami CAS – like seriously, what the actual fuck? – learning a new curriculum, curriculum maps, wet wipe pupils, ball busting parents, observations, ever-changing Covid rules and (some) colleagues that if you saw them shouting for help holding onto a cliff edge you would Scar their ass, it was definitely a miracle that I had made it out alive.
But alive I was and at the end of my first ever term in Dubai I had made – just. How had I made it, I hear you ask? Large periods of binge drinking seemed to be a key factor for my survival. However, there were other – sober – factors that had also helped me to make it out of the private school battleground.
Number One: Having work besties. I mean it’s a given for any workplace really. Without a work bestie who would you cry to? Who would you share your – do you also not know what the fuck we have to do – eye roll with? Who would you secretly message during team meetings about Bernadette having toilet paper stuck to her shoe all day for the fifteenth time? And who would you laugh with until your stomach hurt about a pupil accidentally farting in class?
Yip, a work bestie is an essential as a teacher and I was lucky enough to have several of them in my team who were as sardonic about their roles as educators as myself. There was Miss Defence 2021, Mr. Limerick – if he could live his life in his Limerick GAA top I’m sure he would – and Mrs Scatterbrain – where it was clear that to-do list tasks and reminders went off inside her brain like fireworks on Bonfire night. While we may sound like the worst superhero team ever, when we assembled there was nothing that could stop us and nobody was certainly ever getting left behind.
Number Two: Taking chill pills. For those that know me, I can already hear the scoffs with my high anxiety and over-thinking persona not being evocative of someone that ever ‘chills.’ However, even I understood the importance of taking a breather every once in a while.
As teachers, it can be extremely hard to stop. Our to-do list only ever seems to grow and there is just never enough hours in the day. But stop we must. The to-do list will never be fully completed and there will always be another task that needs to be done; that’s just something we need to accept.
What we don’t need to accept is totally burning ourselves out physically, mentally and emotionally – something I learned the hard way. So always make sure to have breathing time. I know I did. A time where I could just focus on inhaling all the shit of the day and then exhaling it all back out again. I just had to make sure to have some Wrigley’s Extras at hand, as it was a whole lot of shit that I was inhaling into my body.
Number Three: Crying. I made sure to cry at all times. When I was walking down the corridor, speaking to my direct line manager, teaching lessons, I would just cry.
Okay, okay, okay, maybe I didn’t take the crying that far but on a serious note, I made sure to never bottle up my emotions. Over my five year career, I have cried more times than I can count. I cried because a kid told me to fuck off (honestly, sometimes I wish I had taken his advice…). I cried because I felt I had delivered a rubbish lesson. I cried because someone told me they liked my outfit. And I cried several times as I tried to get to grips with my new working environment in Dubai. But after each time that I cried, I felt better, despite being a bit wetter (no sexual innuendo thoughts please you filthy sods).
So, make sure not to bottle it all in. Otherwise, you may find yourself uncontrollably crying at a team meeting and it will be Bernadette that will be secretly messaging about you…
Number Four: Don’t waste yo’ weekend girrrrl. This one is pretty self-explanatory. You work fucking hard during the week. You work long hours. You work in a job where you regularly get abuse hurled at you from pupils and parents alike. Therefore, make sure that at least one day in your weekend is completely free of work. Go out, let your hair down, get drunk and join a conga line – you deserve it!
Now, lets steer this conga line to the bar…
And finally, Number Five: Ask for help. As someone that is quite strong-minded, I originally viewed asking for help as a sign of weakness. As showing that I didn’t know what I was doing. As showing that I wasn’t capable. Yet, when you are trudging through the trenches, you will never get through the battlefield if you don’t put out your hand and say ‘help, I’m stuck.’
Once I realised this, things started to get easier. And I realised that I wasn’t the only one that was stuck in the mud needing someone to pull me out. There was loads of us that needed help. Help on how to deal with a pupil, help with teaching an area of the course and help completing one of the millions of tasks assigned by SLT. We all had our struggles. But, once we asked for help, it was a shared struggle. And, as they do say, a problem shared is a problem halved.
Therefore, as I threw my chill pills in the bin to celebrate making it to the end of the school year, I knew that it was only by following my survival guide that I had made it. A guide that teacher’s had used many times before me and would continue to use long after.