It is mid-semester, and, though we are all living and
learning in our classrooms, we are also making sacrifices in our personal
lives. Our home and social lives are suffering under the stress of classes,
lesson planning, licensure requirements, and many other factors which bog every
student teacher down. Yes, we know this is the way it goes. The long hill
leading to graduation must—by tradition, by its very nature—be an arduous trek
(uphill, both ways, through knee-high snow and scorching heat). It is written
in stone somewhere, I’m sure, that we must suffer to graduate. Unfortunately,
some of the first sacrifices we make involve leisure activities. Suck it up,
you might think. It’s for the greater good, you might think. But there are
consequences in losing the activities that bring us joy and relaxation. I know
that my leisure activities are how I cope with, and rid myself of, stress. Yes.
I said the big S-word…..STRESS!
Judging by the conversations in our college classes and in
the halls of our various placement schools, we are all suffering the effects of
stress. Immune systems are weak; nerves are frayed; tempers are shorter than
usual. It comes with the territory, yes, but it is our duty to leave it at the
door of our classrooms. Easier. Said. Than. Done.
This week opened my eyes to that reality. Teaching my first
extended unit to five classes a day (compounded by grading and my own school
work) has taken its toll on my mental health. I try to leave it at the door,
and, usually, my students help me to forget my overwhelming pile of obligations…..until
they become challenging and start testing my patience. I am a big enough person
to admit my mistakes and this week I snapped back at a student in a petty,
non-productive manner. It was one small moment. It did not impact the class
period. It was a minor transgression brought on my over-wrought nerves and
simple human nature, but it affected me greatly. The moment I realized how rude
I had been, I felt horrible. I fretted about it all night and into the next
day. Was I really that easy to provoke? Why did I not act more like my CT and
the other professionals I strive to learn from daily? After a night and day of
internal chastisement, I decided to consult the wealth of knowledge about all
things education related…..the internet.
I realize the interwebs is not always the paragon of
pedagogical theory, but sometimes you need advice you can read without a manual
or a thesaurus. I got lucky and found an amazing article on my first search. I
found the article, “10 Ways to Reduce a Teachers' Classroom Stress,” (http://www.worksheetlibrary.com/teachingtips/teacherstress.html)
on a nifty little website called Worksheet Library. The article specifically
targets reducing stress in the classroom, not just for the teacher, but for the
student as well. Every suggestion offered looked inviting, easy to implement,
and sensible. From adding laughter to the classroom to using hand signals to
cut down on distractions, this article covered many factors that can lead to
stress. Not every suggestion might me practical in every classroom, but every
suggestion serves as a reminder to face the challenge of stress management in
creative, practical ways. More than anything, reading this article made me sigh
with relief that I am not the only one who apparently needs advice on this. It
also helped re-focus my attention on how my actions affect my students.
I know there must be infinitely more websites out there with
advice on this subject and others related to it, but for now I’m keeping it
simple. Simple is good. Simple is effective. And that is why, my colleagues, I
am resorting to the very simple technique of asking for your response. Do you have
a stress story to share? What tips or tricks are tried and true for you? Have your
CTs offered any of their particular wisdom on this subject? Please post if you
have a contribution as I would love to hear from you on this subject. Together
we can all get up this hill and conquer, or at least subdue, our stress
monsters.
As my yoga instructor says,
Namaste and Peace Be with You,
Ms. Iseminger
