Or is it?
It goes without saying that the summer holidays bridging the gap between one academic year and the next are the most welcome of breaks in any teacher's life. Not just for the freedom to sleep in, take a holiday or finally finish off that pile of ironing. And certainly not that teachers have absolutely no work to do* for six whole weeks...
Or near enough. This year is the first in my teaching career where I've had a whole six week break. Two years ago, those teaching in my local authority were "unfortunate" to only be awarded five weeks and two days. That was a major hardship.
But on a more serious note (and rather pleading, to all you non-teachers), the summer holiday is so much more than six weeks of lie-ins and no work to do. The academic year just gone has been so draining for me in a number of ways that I won't go into. Just believe me when I say that the mental and physical drain I experienced this past year is something that I never want to find myself enduring again. I'm not afraid of hard work - in fact, I'd go as far as to say I go out of my way to make things hard for myself on times. All in the best interests of my students, of course. Nobody does something just for the hell of it. I digress...
The last academic year was my most challenging yet. I encountered my first OFSTED inspection, endured an horrendous observation schedule alongside all of my colleagues, and found myself feeling rather isolated in what would be considered to be a large teaching staff. It was emotionally draining - and pure hell. At the end of each year of my career so far, I've looked back in sheer amazement that I'm not yet in some sort of institution.
But this year, I didn't feel that amazement. Instead, I felt relief. Relief that such a horrid chapter in my career and life was over. Relief that I now had six weeks to recover and prepare for my new role in my new department in my new school. The end of this summer holiday marks a new chapter for me. But not necessarily one that I'm prepared for.
"And why not?" you might ask. After all, I am in the sixth week of a six week break. Surely I've had more than enough time to get myself prepared for such a thing. And I should be inclined to agree that if I'm unprepared now, it's all my own doing. Except that it has pretty much taken me until this week to feel relaxed enough that I can think about this new chapter that is looming come Monday. Is this a sign of old age? A less-than-subtle hint that I need to find a way to relax much more quickly, to take advantage of all the holiday time my job awards me? Or is it a sign that I need to let go at work a bit more, to try and avoid it spilling over and spoiling my free time?
I'm not going to try and say that I deserve all the holiday time I'm given. But I am going to say this: I need all the holiday time I'm given. Without it, I'd be dead. After three years, I feel burned out already. How many workers in other services and industries can say this in all honesty? I'm yet to find someone feeling this way that isn't a teacher.
And so, having spent five weeks convincing my mind and my body that I am, in fact, NOT burned out, I find myself embarking on a chapter that takes me to a whole new level of challenge and potential stressful situations. Have I learned a lesson this past year? Yes. Will I avoid such glum times in the future?
How the hell should I know? But I'll do my damned hardest to stay away from that, let me tell you.
*Of course we have no work to do for six whole weeks. If we're completely ignorant of what is stipulated in our job descriptions, that is...
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