DisruptEDU

The Weight

Yes, I know.

I’ve been promising this one for so long that you probably didn’t believe it would happen. I mean, I was starting to feel that way myself, so I don’t blame you.

I had SO MANY PLANS for all the free time I would have when I didn’t have homework on top of work-work. Assemble the manuscript! Organize all the things! Blog like there’s no tomorrow! 

What did I ACTUALLY have time for? Eating. Sleeping (ish). Reacquainting myself with domestic responsibilities, though I still manage to forget about whatever I’ve put in the washer or dryer. Re-entering the part of society that exists outside of my job (ish).

Yet, here’s the thing. I’m not going to lie and say that I haven’t found the time to do things that are less… useful. Watching TV, playing games on my phone, harassing my coworkers with memes and GIFs (usually at the same time). So, why the wait? I love writing. And the others were just so easy, they practically wrote themselves.

But this one? I’ve known it would be different. Still useful (I hope). Still funny (I try). But I’ve known it won’t be easy to write. And dammit (Word is telling me that language might be offensive to my reader – but if you started with #1, you’ve been warned), that’s NOT how I wanted to roll when I was finally out from under all that homework. Yet here we are – me, getting to it, and those of you who haven’t given up (and aren’t easily offended). Oh, and Woodhouse (our robot vacuum), currently banging into my chair because we managed to delete his map. And my husband, nervously hovering as if he suspects I may see if Woodhouse can fly if he does it one…more…time.

When exploring any topic – as a teacher or a student – the big question we always ask is “Who cares?” This may seem blunt, yet it’s a fair way to figure out if you’re wasting your time (and that of anyone along for the ride). It’s often followed up with “Why?”

Example: Topic = robot uprising. Who cares if I have a robot vacuum that I suspect steered a path to my chair with intent? And why? Me, because I spent a good deal of my formative years influenced by sci-fi, and I’m not 100% convinced that this little sucker and Alexa aren’t going to team up to take me out someday for the amount of shade I throw their way. And don’t get me started on those Boston Dynamics robot dogs, even if it is cute when they make them dance.   

ANYWAY….When I first had to come up with a “problem of practice” topic, disruptive behavior was a no-brainer for me. I’m going to go back to the “research-y” stuff here for a second, but I promise there’s a reason. What IS disruptive behavior? If you’ve read the white paper and/or watched the video (and thank you), I’m sure you’ve got a basic idea. It’s an umbrella (ella, ella) term for behaviors that create an uncomfortable, hostile, or unsafe environment.

Incivility. Bullying. Horizontal or lateral violence. Contra-power harassment.

Who cares? Well, other than me? And why?

Have you ever experienced any of these? Witnessed these behaviors? Been on the receiving end?

(If you answered “no,” you may want to stop here. Your unicorn is probably lonely.)  

These behaviors affect learning, of course. Students that feel uncomfortable, or unsafe, are just not going to learn. FACTS, as they say. What does it look like? A student freezes up, breaks down, or lashes out. A fellow student, teacher, or patient has said or done something that has caused a stress response, flooded their body with adrenaline and cortisol, and short-circuited their prefrontal cortex – the part of their brain responsible for learning new things (also still under construction until age 25).

Now, I personally feel that the term “triggered” is thrown around a bit too casually when one looks at the actual definition. But like it or not, it’s come to describe the good old fight, flight, or freeze response whether or not its associated with specific trauma (think PTSD). I may go so far as to say the word “triggered” IS a trigger for me, but I digress.     

These are two of the main concerns with dealing with student-faculty/faculty-student disruptive behaviors:

#1 – Faculty become unwilling to provide honest feedback. If THAT student left the clinic sobbing the last time someone told her that she was using the wrong end of an instrument, would you think twice about correcting her today? If that OTHER student argued with you and then went over your head with an issue, are you going to put in full effort with him next time?

#2 – Behaviors become reciprocal. If THAT faculty is condescending to a student, THAT student may feel justified to give it right back (oh, and they’ll tell their friends, of course). And if THAT other student is just a snarky menace no matter what the conversation, might YOU at some point feel you have the right to sprinkle some salt of your own?

And this is only the one-on-one stuff. You think a little clinic or classroom drama is rough? Wait until they have the chance to tell you what they REALLY think. I’ve seen some course evaluations that would put professional social media trolls and “gotcha” journalists to SHAME.

So here we are…trying to figure out how to do this damned job. Because we still want to…right?

And yet, we’ve only talked about the students. Because faculty are NEVER disruptive to each other, right?

If you said “no,” you might still be able to catch the reader with the unicorn. Tell them we said “hi.”

Let’s take the combined stress of trying to figure out how to do our jobs without shredding student self-esteem and add some – let’s say unpleasantness – from a colleague. Someone questioned your judgment, undermined you, or complained to your supervisor. Now, your entrance into the workplace is more akin to that of an ordinance expert (cut the RED one!) than an educator. Let’s face it, you’ve got the requisite skills to maintain your @#$& under pressure if you’ve been at this any length of time, but who wants to work like that?  

This is the weight.

Even if you are fortunate enough to not experience all of it at once, it’s heavy. Why do you think there are so many memes and GIFs about teaching to begin with? We laugh so we don’t cry. But sometimes we do that, too. This weight impacts the physical, mental, and emotional wellness of students and faculty. It ruins relationships and job satisfaction. Pushes good people right out of the profession.

What are we to do??? Well, yes, we can keep working on interventions, but we know that research and implementation move at the speed of a herd of turtles…  

Apparently, triggers have an antidote – a “glimmer.” It’s quite possible that I’m late to the game (again, buried in homework for 3 years), so if you all know about this, my apologies. The term was coined in 2018 by Deb Dana, a licensed social worker; glimmers are meant to short-circuit the physical responses to triggers. They are different for everyone but are meant to help bring a sense of peace or safety. Think about how a certain song lifts your mood. A scent that makes you feel cozy. Something or someone that makes you giggle.

Can we use these to counter the weight?

I think so. We can use them ourselves and teach our students how to use them. Reducing the weight by increasing psychological safety, which in turn reduces the likelihood of disruptive behaviors. I have a box of notes and cards from former students in my office that I open when I’m feeling the weight. I guess these are glimmers for me. And maybe group glimmers are a thing? Say, cutting class a few minutes short to blow bubbles on a nice summer day or dancing around the clinic in a dinosaur suit…

Back to the reason this has been late…and difficult.

There I was, fall semester of 2023. Brand-new degree. No more homework (granted, I celebrated by turning in a promotion dossier- a 150-page “main” document and a 233-page appendix, I kid you not). With a GREAT class of students in their final semester. Looking forward to the spring semester when I would be “off” (a running joke, I’m just not in clinic). And oh, my. Every germ thwarted by two years of mask-wearing hit my students, my team, and their families HARD. Multiple 15+ hour days just to get to the finish line, students struggling with the fallout of political divisiveness, informed that my teaching load would be increasing, while the powers that be promised the “climate” should be improving soon. And, oh crap, the holidays approaching at the speed of light.

The last day of clinic, a student asked to take a picture with me. I HATE having my picture taken. I joke that it’s related to having a tiny amount of Indigenous genetic material. But this day, I had another reason.

I was feeling the weight.

I was physically tired. Emotionally spent. Feeling like I could not do anything right. I had actually cried twice that day by the time he asked (for me, it’s usually frustration that does it). I couldn’t even begin to imagine how rough I looked, but I couldn’t say no. Many of us joke about our “next jobs” – those where we dream about being able to leave work behind at the end of a shift (mine is Trader Joe’s). I was seriously questioning my vocational choices as I left that evening, telling everyone I’d see them at graduation.

And yet…I did not. The nasty bugs that plagued (not really an exaggeration) my team all semester came for me. I missed it. I was crushed.

Should I have been surprised? Not really. I mean, I believe in the research. I see colleagues pushing themselves to do the best the can to work with students who may be acting out due to entitlement, lack of maturity, inability to handle the academic rigor, personal and financial stressors, and yes, sometimes trauma. And doing it in environments that aren’t ensuring their own psychological safety. Of course we are run down. This is one of those red flags we tell the students to look for. The (really gross) metaphor about the frog in the water. A creeping normality that can lead to much worse than a fever… burnout.

Like I said, this topic was personal for me. As appealing as the image of ringing up groceries in a Hawaiian shirt or returning to clinical practice may seem, I am here for a reason. Maybe I’m naïve to think that there’s a chance for change to make both learning AND teaching better. To hang on to our passion, and creativity; to whatever it was that brought to health care, then to education.

You have to start somewhere, or so they say. For example, I still feel strongly that Woodhouse did NOT need to start in the room where I was working, but there’s a set a googly eyes with his name on them in his future.

The weight is real. For the students. For the teachers. Maybe glimmers are the way to go. Baby steps. The students deserve it. Their future patients deserve it. We deserve it.

The student that took the photo also made the class video. These, along with emails from the most unexpected students telling me they missed me, are the glimmers that have carried me into the spring semester. While they can’t be put in a box, I hold the memories of them giggling and twirling while they blew bubbles on a beautiful day, and their laughter when the T-Rex invaded their clinic, in my heart for the days I need them.  

~Jaymi