When the first lockdown was announced in March 2020, an insurmountable level of anxiety took hold of me. I was obsessive about the systems and procedures for hygiene. I washed the post that came through the letterbox and did the same to our family groceries.
As a teacher of several classes, I found remote teaching stressful. We used Google Classroom at this point, and shared the setting of remote learning across our team.
My working hours were long - much longer than in usual times. While the loudest voices on social media were insisting that we should just “set the normal curriculum”, it’s not quite as simple as that for all schools. I was working 12 to 14 hours a day, and it was exhausting.
Despite all this, though, I secretly loved being at home. I still do.
Online leaning: Discovering a new side of myself
I nod along when my colleagues and friends say that they are desperate to get back into the classroom, but I am discovering a side of myself that I didn’t truly know before.
I have reflected on this a lot, and I recognise that this more about me, rather than the system or my school. I have realised that I am in a state of anxiety when I’m in school, and this entirely dissipates during the lockdown periods.
Being at home offers warmth, safety, and certainty. This is not about laziness or sluggishness; I exercise regularly, and I am still working long hours - but I am happier and calmer than ever before.
Schools are busy, noisy, unpredictable institutions. It’s part of the excitement - every teaching day is different. You never know what’s going to crop up next in a school.
I have discovered that I don’t like that feeling of loss of control. I don’t like the boisterous, edgy corridors. I find it incredibly hard to concentrate on planning and assessing in a noisy building.
One of the joys of working in schools is the dialogue and the conversation; it is lovely that colleagues are constantly in and out of classrooms and offices. However, if you have planning, preparation and assessment to complete, and just one free period in a three-day stretch, then it can be impossible to get the job done in these shared spaces.
The unpredictability of a school day feeds into this, too. Whether it’s a request to watch a class for a few minutes while a colleague nips out to photocopy an urgent resource, or a request to support an NQT with an unruly group, the time slips away and the work piles up in the evenings. All of that has disappeared, being at home.
Teaching without the adrenaline
I have a brilliant relationship with my students, and I work in a school with decent systems; students largely behave well in the classroom. I have a good rapport with the young people I teach - I really like teaching. Lockdown and remote teaching have allowed me to do this without all the other areas of school life that trigger a pounding heart and adrenaline coursing through the veins.
My school is in an area of high deprivation. More than 50 per cent of our community receives pupil premium funding, and I am acutely aware of how much our students need to be in school.
Safeguarding incidents and cases have shot through the roof. Incidents of domestic violence, reported by the police straight to our designated safeguarding lead, have risen to an unbelievably high number.
I am not for a moment suggesting that it is better for the community that we stay closed. It has just, for this one introvert, given me time for pause and reflection.
The author is an English teacher at a secondary school in the South West of England
