Monday
Dear Diary,
Thank you for bringing me half-term. An oasis full of calm and regeneration. I am not doing any school work - I am only doing things that will make me feel wholesome and zen.
The kids came in to say they needed some new stuff on their bikes - I have no idea what it was. I was only half-listening, because I was mentally ordering all the lovely, relaxing-yet-purposeful jobs I need to get on with this week, but I did hear how much they thought it would cost. I suggested they ask their dad.
I made a to-do list that ran to three pages, then I cross-referenced it and colour-coded it with highlighters and divided it into categories. It didn’t matter how I did it - it was still lengthy. Ate cold pasta and garlic bread for breakfast.
Tuesday
Dear Diary,
I spent most of today answering work emails. So hello, laptop and goodbye, good intentions. I know this is a totally rubbish thing to do in the holidays, but if I don’t sort them now I will fall behind next week when we are back at work.
I also have several hundred assessments still to finish, and then I need to prep more online lessons - but I am not sure how many as yet, as we are all waiting on 22 February for the big government announcement.
The kids wanted to go out for a walk so I sent them off on their own, which meant I could get on with things. I’ll catch up with them at supper. Ate a whole packet of fig rolls. Figs are fruit.
Wednesday
Dear Diary,
Read Tes online and the news that we won’t be getting any pay rise. If I am honest, I can’t actually remember when I last had a pay rise that was worthy of attention.
One year I think it equated to an extra 80p a month. In a way, it was an exciting challenge to find something I could spend it on, so I could say, “This is what I have done with my reward for working hard for so long.” A packet of spaghetti maybe or an avocado?
Several commentary pieces are using the phrases “slap in the face” and “kick in the teeth”, but I prefer “killing the goose that lays the golden egg…slowly”.
The kids suggested a movie night. I joined them after I had done some research into creating rubrics on Teams. Ate a crisp sandwich while cooking supper.
Thursday
Dear Diary,
Spent most of this afternoon talking to a friend from work about education, money, careers. We both feel the same: we love our jobs, we did not go into teaching for the money (luckily), we work hard - harder than ever this past year.
She told me that she was exhausted, and after 20 years didn’t think she had the fight in her to carry on in education. I had to agree with her. The so-called perks - whether or not they are in fact perks is a relentless and increasingly dull debate - have lost the power and the pull they used to have.
I felt so sad. We talked about our options outside teaching, our transferable skills and what we had to offer industry. She told me about her daughter, who has just qualified as a solicitor and has a starting salary higher than hers. It made me wonder if perhaps it was time to stop being such a public servant on a vocational mission and start expecting to be paid true worth, somehow.
The kids had a play fight that became a real fight. I taught them how to get bloodstains out of cushion covers. Ate pretzels and peanut butter to cheer myself up.
Friday
Dear Diary,
Today was a just a horrid heap of hugely emotional soul-searching. I was not expecting to be doing this during half-term, but here I am wondering about my future. An experienced professional with plenty of years left to give the workplace.
I am feeling cross. Let down, undervalued, betrayed.
I did a quick financial overhaul. I am worse off than I was five years ago. That can’t be right, surely? In the process, I have totally overlooked the marking and planning I needed to do.
Shouted at the kids for leaving their bikes out in the rain since Monday. They then sulked in their rooms all evening, which gave me plenty of time to start job hunting. Ate nothing. Suddenly lost my appetite.
Zoë Crockford is an art teacher at a secondary school in Bournemouth
