The Delicate Dance of Work and Rest
By: Heather Kretschmer
In our last Think Tank issue, Klaus P. Michelsen contributed a poignant short story that surely sets off many teachers’ internal smoke alarms (link). Close to burnout, Michelsen’s main character has been pouring his lifeblood into his teaching job. Like a moth drawn to flame, he can’t help but burn his candle at both ends every day, year in, year out. This mirrors the experience of most teachers: We allow our passion for working with learners to override the need to recharge our batteries. As we learn from Michelsen’s main character:
More than twenty years in the trenches had passed since I first set foot in a large classroom in that coastal city in South America—where the weather was always humid and the ceviche always fresh. Come rain or shine, I had never called in sick. No matter how stressed or overwhelmed I felt, no matter how little sleep I had, I always put my students first.
But then, the main character in Michelsen’s story takes his first baby step towards recovery by switching on jazz music, discussing the problem with his empathetic partner, and spontaneously dancing with her. These small actions parallel insights found in our Main and More podcast episodes. In our Main podcast episode, Dr. Saundra Dalton-Smith talks about different kinds of rest: Emotional rest, mental rest, social rest, creative rest, physical rest, sensory rest, and spiritual rest. Michelsen’s main character experiences emotional rest and social rest by expressing his thoughts and feelings to his partner, and he finds creative rest by dancing with her to music that touches his soul.
Michelsen’s main character also embodies Dr. Martha Grajdek’s words of wisdom in the More podcast episode. Grajdek encourages listeners to rest by doing nothing, which she defines as “not working with a to-do list, but rather doing what we want, when we want.” Michelsen’s main character did exactly that when he pulled his partner into an unplanned dance.
In his next baby step in the right direction, Michelsen’s main character chooses rest over work by getting himself a sick note for two weeks. I think he waited too long, as many teachers tend to do. We keep going . . .
and going . . .
and going . . .
. . . like the Energizer Bunny, as though our batteries will never die. But they inevitably do. And that’s when teachers get really sick—mentally and physically—and have no choice but take a break. At this point, teachers often fall into an abyss that is difficult if not impossible to emerge from. Some leave the profession for good.
We don’t know which path Michelsen’s main character will choose after his two weeks of sick leave are up. But if we want to stay in the teaching profession until retirement and stay as healthy as possible, then intentionally integrating periods of rest and recovery into our work lives is a life-giving dance—one that requires a delicate balance. That’s why we’re devoting this issue to rest. An important two-step dance move involves first setting aside the Energizer Bunny mentality of endless to-do lists, and then embracing what we’re inspired to do at that moment. Last month’s authors already showed us some of the dance steps (link), and this month’s authors unveil more. I invite you to turn on your favorite dance music, tap your feet to the beat, and keep reading. Between articles, if you’re able to, stand up and dance–at least in your heart.
Heather Kretschmer teaches English at the University of Göttingen in Germany.