Unoccupied

Work. Do you love it? Do you hate it? No matter who you are, unless you’re ill and incapacitated, you’re engaged in work of some kind: paid work, unpaid work, duties to families or loved ones, duties to volunteer or community organisations. Plenty of retired people still work, they have something organised that they do with their time. Just about everyone has an occupation; they are “occupied”, gainfully or not. At least, it seems like everyone does when you’re the one who is NOT gainfully occupied.

Lots of people complain about work. I understand that. Work can take you away from the people you love, make you work long hours, force you to take it home with you, eat into your family and leisure time, exhaust you, frustrate you, bait you, bore you, intimidate you and plain outrage you. I know people suffer from those sorts of feelings about their work. I know that happens, but I’m one of the lucky ones – I love my work. I’m not being glib – I truly love it. I chose it late, and that might be an advantage. I went back to uni to retrain, once I’d spent my 20s in another field that taught me a lot about my capabilities and strengths, but didn’t feed the need I had to do something that to me was “worthwhile”, something that I felt mattered. I found it alright – I love teaching. I love it because I love learning. Because the world is amazing, and the tools we use to negotiate our way through life are incredible and worthwhile gaining. And that there are no limits to what you can be interested in – none whatever, except for those you create for yourself. And everyone can learn. I’m starting to sound downright evangelical, and if you don’t teach or you didn’t like school, this probably bores you to tears (and it probably still does even if you do teach). But you get the point, I love the work I do for a salary, and even if I won Tattslotto and didn’t have to work I would still want to do it. I would do it for free (and sometimes do). I won’t make any jokes about teacher salaries, there are enough of them already.

I am close to and aware of a large number of 4 and 5-year olds who started school over the past couple of weeks. In particular I know of two of those youngsters who were so excited to start school they were completely beside themselves. I know one had read the five books he took home on the first day of school three times over before dinner time (I might have got that wrong, but I was being conservative). These kids have started what we all participate in – a lifetime of being meaningfully engaged during certain hours of the day. It starts with learning at school, and then develops into paid work, some people work at home raising children (on-the-job training only), and even retirement can evolve into volunteer work, babysitting grandchildren or being part of community groups.

All these things give you a sense of belonging, a feeling of having relevance. Work gives us the chance to use our skills, be good at something and be recognised for it, develop new skills, and make an impact on our environment or the people in it. Through work we make and meet commitments. We take on and carry out our responsibilities to ourselves and others. We also make vital human connections through working, whether paid or unpaid. It’s all about participating in life and the associations you make in the course of doing so. Even if you don’t enjoy your work, it gives you something – a sense of connectedness, or the forging of friendships even though the work itself might be dull. It gives you a place in society that others can rely on – it doesn’t work if you’re not there.

It turns out, I’m one of the ill or incapacitated. I haven’t been in regular, five day a week, lesson-planning, correcting-work-at-nights-and-on-weekends, teaching-a-class work since July 2010. I miss it so much it hurts. I miss the collegiate atmosphere of talking about learning, planning learning and then facilitating learning like Ben Cousins misses ice. Teaching is my crack. But I’m at a full stop and it will not budge. I’m trying to turn it into a semi-colon. (Already got one of those – ha ha! surgery joke)

I feel irrelevant. I feel out of touch. I feel like things have moved on and I am well behind. I can’t read the play, take the temperature of a grade on how it is settling in, I don’t know what has happened earlier in the day so that I don’t make a blunder later on. I blundered this week and it really bothers me. I am annoying the hell out of my erstwhile colleagues with emails hither and thither because I can’t see where I’m headed. I’m watching the train I just missed go kerchick kerchack down the track. And I lost my ticket.

Psychologists can explain the technical detail about how work helps people to feel better about themselves. I’m pretty sure it’s documented fact. Rehabilitation is always more successful when people are able to resume their position in the workplace. I am thankful that I am slowly taking on a few things that will contribute to school life, although it is not in my most preferred way yet, one which would include face time with students and regular connections to colleagues. I have not yet mastered the art of patience in this area. I know my brain has the capacity for work, but my body does not. But it will. I’ll see to that.

So what’s my point? Treasure and prioritise your health. Love your life. Appreciate the ability to participate in it. If you don’t love your work, don’t waste time, do something about it. And revel in the excitement of 4 and 5-year olds starting school. If only you could bottle it.