Choosing Rest Is Transformative Resistance
How are you?
This week, we shifted modules and had another round of “first days” in the school of education. This was not pronounced for me, my group stayed the same, and I’m a few years into this routine. But, the excitement, tension, and stress was palpable, and a few instructors around me were caught up in the maelstrom. There were forgotten masks, wrong classrooms, technology issues, hurtful words exchanged and short responses-- and while we are all adults in this college building, I feel the need to stress that these experiences were coming mostly from the adults in charge.
I left campus synthesizing those moments with others that I’ve been a part of since the school year began. The virtual PD I led to a Zoom-ful of vacant faces, stories from teacher friends who are stepping out of the classroom to shed tears, and the even more worrisome accounts of teachers taking their frustrations out on students. This year, maybe more than ever before, schools are being asked to be safe havens for children continuing to navigate the insecurities of the pandemic. But where is the safe haven for educators who are trying, and struggling, to do the same?
I write and think about rest a lot, but the more that I explore, the more I’m reminded of how elusive it actually is. We are functioning within traumatic systems created to buttress white supremacy. Participating in these systems will always exhaust us.
Choosing rest is transformative resistance.
So, what can we rest from?
We can rest from thinking that everything is our fault, everything is within our control, or that everything is our responsibility.
Think about a situation that didn’t go as you planned or expected. Think about how you treated yourself after that experience. Was it a fair assessment of what you did, or did you take responsibility for more than your share? Get targeted about what you can actually control, and let the rest go with grace.
We can rest from saying yes.
Here are some sample sentence starters:
“Thank you for asking, but I not taking on any new projects.”
“I”m honored that you thought of me, but I don’t have the bandwidth.”
“What a great idea–I’m not available, but I hope you find a way!”
We can rest from going it alone.
Find a therapist. Teachers are exposed to–and processing–the experiences of 30-100+ people a day. It takes practice to do this effectively, and our families and friends are not responsible for making this space.
We can rest from limitless emotional availability.
A boundary is a rule or limit around engagement with you.
Too often, in education, boundaries are ignored (or even feel impossible), when in fact, boundaries are the guardrails that keep us mentally healthy. As you engage with different groups of people or projects moving forward, do a gut check.
How does this experience physically make me feel? Am I energized or depleted? Anxious? Our bodies are sending us messages, and they guide us toward when to say no.
Then, think about what you need from the people involved–how do you need people to behave so that you can engage authentically? How will you prioritize your well-being as opposed to the comfort of others?
Finally, we can rest from the idea that rest is a reward, earned or deserved, or a privilege.
In fact, rest is a discipline. It is a practice. It is not something that we get to do once we finish lesson planning, observing, or grading. It is the prerequisite for those actions.
This year, I am working with teachers in the exact ways that I’ve wanted to for years. And, I want to keep doing it more and more. But, to make this work sustainable, thoughtful, and powerful–we all must make space for rest.
Take a break!
Christina