For all of us, this Easter holiday is like no other we have experienced. The very notion of a holiday seems almost redundant: there is no break from the coronavirus, and little relief from routines enforced by Covid-19. No one should be pitching a tent any further away than their garden, family and friend gatherings are confined to a computer screen, and the only place anyone is jetting off to is their imagination of a better future.

“Holiday” has often been a misunderstood word, especially when it comes to teachers and others who work in education. A holiday is routinely portrayed as an indulgence, a frivolous flipside to the stern, Calvinist work ethic ingrained in the Scottish psyche. Teachers, in turn, are frequently subjected to passive-aggressive teasing or even outright derision about the length of their holidays.

Yet, in some ways, holidays are the hardest time to be a teacher. In a job where you are there to help others, the holidays are a time when teachers worry about their diminished ability to help - about the children who will fall further behind their peers educationally, who may not always have something to eat, who may even be in danger away from the safety of school. Those feelings will be pronounced now: the vast majority of pupils had already spent two weeks away from school before the scheduled Easter holiday, which officially started for many only last weekend. And who knows when they will finally be back in school?

The impact of coronavirus on schools

This week, we feature five education professionals in five sectors, who share their recollections of the unprecedented demands they faced in the run-up to the closures announced in the middle of March (see pages 10-15). One teacher, neatly summing up the feelings of many in recent weeks, says: “I can’t remember ever feeling quite as anxious, and yet I also can’t remember ever feeling quite as energised and motivated to make the most of a bad situation.”

There have been some Herculean efforts to ensure that support of all kinds continues for pupils and students - and others - during this time of mass closures.

There are countless tales emerging of nurseries, schools and colleges going extra miles, many of which we have highlighted, including mass food deliveries and production lines set up to make protective equipment for health and care workers. And many people who work in education will continue working over the Easter holiday, because they know that people depend on their doing so. Whatever the policymakers decide, the term “key worker” is apt, and perhaps too understated, for many who work in education.

Yet now, more than ever, it is important to take a holiday at some point. It may not be anything like what you had planned for the Easter break - and some of the heroic efforts to embrace remote learning in recent weeks also present the danger of literally never being able to switch off. But please do find some form of pause button, some source of restfulness. Holidays are not an indulgence, but a chance to regroup, take stock and draw on fresh reserves of strength for the many challenges ahead. As philosopher Bertrand Russell said in 1930, “One of the symptoms of approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that … to take a holiday would bring all kinds of disaster.”

He was right: when your job as an educator feels even more important than usual, it’s understandable to feel that to take a break is somehow selfish. But it’s not: a break, a pause, a holiday, a rest - whatever you call it - is a selfless act. If you make yourself better by taking one, it’s easier to make things better for others.

@Henry_Hepburn

This article originally appeared in the 10 April 2020 issue under the headline “Now, more than ever, our brave teachers need to take a holiday”