Unpopular Opinion: Bath Bombs Aren’t Self-Care

Right now, it seems like most things are total crap. Every single one of us is wildly stressed about GACE testing, EdTPA, looking for a job, the general problems that just exist when you’re teaching, and then whatever our respective personal issues are. This stuff is hard to cope with. Self-care gets discussed a lot in relation to teaching. It’s my opinion that self-care should be free and actually compassionate (bath bombs aren’t either of those). There are two things that really help me when I am so stressed it feels like I am on fire: Doing kind things for other people and making gratitude lists.

Doing kind things for other people looks like a lot of different things depending on where I am and what I have time for. Sometimes it’s just letting someone get in my lane during traffic or picking up trash I see on the ground. Calling a friend who’s having a hard time is a good one, and so is cleaning up something for someone else. I wash a lot of other people’s dishes when I’m stressed because it’s something I HATE to do. So then I can assume that other people hate it and if I do it for them, it’s really nice, and I feel better for having been kind. Do something nice and don’t expect a thank you. If you expect a thank you, you’re just gonna feel worse if you don’t get one. 

The other, listing the things I’m grateful for (or just expressing and feeling gratitude), is a little weird for me — especially to do in a public forum, like I’m about to — because it can smack of the brand of saccharine sentimentality that makes me want to punch a wall. (Note: Wall-punching is not a good way to deal with stress. Two years ago I broke a bone that way and retired from punching for good.) But here goes nothing. Here are a few things I’m grateful for in no particular order:

1. Rice. Rice is cheap, easy, cooks quickly, and fills me up fast. By extension, I am also grateful for my roommate’s rice cooker.
2. My roommate. Don’t know where I would be if I weren’t living with someone who was also in this unique YCE hell. I’m glad she’s around to vent to and watch TV shows with while we grade student work. I’m also grateful that she doesn’t (seem to) mind when I make a huge mess of the kitchen table with all sorts of school crap.
3. My friends who are also student teaching. This is a big one. Thank God I have a group of women who are in the same position that I am. If we hadn’t all bonded over the horrors of EDRD (remember when we thought that was stressful? ha! we were dumb) and created a group message that has lived on and allowed us to get advice/support/ask questions as needed, I think we’d all be much worse off.
4. My boyfriend. Not gonna elaborate on this one because no one actually likes to read mushy things about other people’s partners and I won’t put you through that, Dear Reader. You’re welcome. Put that on your gratitude list.
5. My CT. Still not really sure what this woman thinks of me, but she lets me do what I want within the classroom and I’m really glad that I’ve had such a “sink or swim” opportunity because without her hands-off approach, my anxiety probably would have kept me from really taking the lead.
6. English Ed. Department at Kennesaw State. I don’t think there’s a better program for what we’re doing anywhere. That’s some exceptionalism for you. We are the best! We have the best professors in this department and without them, this program would be nothing. I believe this whole-heartedly whether it’s true or not. I don’t think I would have had the opportunities I’ve had here if I were anywhere else, and I don’t think I would have learned as much either. So as stressed as I am, I’m glad to be here!
7. The students I like. The good ones, y’know? The ones that want to learn and engage with you. I don’t like all my students, but that’s okay because I can treat all of them with respect and still be compassionate blah blah blah. Some of them I’m just grateful for.
8. Szchuan numbing pepper. Ordering dry-fried eggplant from Tasty China gets expensive quick, but if you buy your own numbing pepper, you can grind it up and put it on everything, not just eggplant.
9. My diary. I’m big on journaling and I know I talk about that a lot, but it’s critical for me to maintain any semblance of being human. I don’t know how anyone manages to live their life without writing constantly. It’s often the best way for me to process things that suck.
10. Parks in Cobb County stay open until 11pm. Arguably, my favorite thing in the whole word is swinging while listening to music, and because parks in Cobb stay open past sunset, I’m often able to go after I finish my work and unwind on a swing-set. Robert Louis Stevenson was right. 
11. My family. They’re good people and I love them.
12. Synthroid. Were it not for synthetic levothyroxine, I would need about 12 hours of sleep every night and I’ve got to stay up late sometimes doing stuff for school.
13. My supervisor. He’s the best. I’ve learned so much from him and his feedback. Weekly LPs suck, but it’s been excellent practice and I really do feel like he’s had a big hand in helping me grow as an educator. We can only nominate CTs for awards, which is a damn shame because he deserves one.

I’m grateful for a lot of things. Dumb things. Important things. Just all those isolated elements that together give life meaning. Taking the time to think about what I’m grateful for and do kind things for others forces me to find a silver lining, even when I don’t want to.

Bath bombs have never been able to remind me that life is actually pretty damn good.

 

Spinach and Forks

I would consider myself to be a fairly organized person. My room is always tidy, my floors are always swept, and I mostly have a particular spot for all of my belongings. I don’t settle for clutter, and if you know me, you’ll see me put my plate into the dishwasher thirty seconds after I am done eating. Though I have the occasional piled-high load of laundry to fold, I think I’ve got the structured and clean-mom mindset down (though I am far from being a mom).

One thing that took me on a run for my money was when I realized how often I forget a fork.

You’ve surely been here: packing your lunch consisting of the daily spinach salad that takes you twenty-minutes to eat. Why is this salad taking SO long to eat? It’s like the spinach reproduced while it was sitting in my lunch box.  You shamefully have a stem sticking out of your mouth as a someone walks into your room. I need to stop packing this dang spinach salad.

The only kicker about eating this salad is that often, I have to eat it with a knife, because yes, I forgot a fork and it’s the only thing left in my utensil box that I bought at the beginning of the year.

Have you ever tried eating a salad with a knife?

Well, it’s not pretty.

First of all, the knife’s tip is basically a round edge. You can’t poke anything with something shaped like that. I end up shoving some pieces of salad to the side of my Tupperware, only to get my mouth super close to the edge in order to shovel it in. It’s like eating salad with a spoon, but worse.

It’s a relief to be done with your salad on these sorts of days. First, because you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you sat down, and then because you’re finally done with the dreaded knife-salad. Then, you realize how unorganized you feel.

Being a teacher is a lot like eating a spinach salad with a knife.

I have realized that my brain simply won’t think of things it used to. I know that if there is one thing students are supposed to get out of a lesson for the day, it is the one thing I forgot to say to them. Somehow I figure out how to get the message across, but it is never as pretty and pink that I imagine it will be if I would have told them in the first place.

Teaching can be messy.

But the best kind of teaching comes from the genuineness of your words that impact your students. The kind that helps them understand that you know what you’re talking about. The kind that is influential despite how unorganized it may be.

Yes, my desk is still neat, and my pens belong to one pen holder, but I want to be able to sacrifice my organization if it means that my students will get something out of a lesson.

I want to eat spinach with a knife if it means that my students see that I am real.