Guest Post by Dr. Cassandra Johnson on dealing with burnout.

First, ask the real questions you want to know and linger in the uncertainty: “How can I best support my students in this course?” “What is a different way I can engage my students with the content?” “How else can I motivate or inspire my students?”

Second, acknowledge uncomfortable realities: We are burnt-out. We are not trained or prepared to teach during times of uncertainty, stress, and trauma. We don’t know what’s ahead. Our students are counting on us to help them navigate through dark and stormy waters. The best we can do right now is to make choices that are good for us, as individuals and all other roles we embody, especially as instructors.

Here are 3 things I did to acknowledge burnout for myself and students:

1. Cancelled a class meeting to facilitate reflection. The week before the epic winter storm, my students had a written reflection due on Friday. But, in Monday’s class, I could sense their stress and fatigue. On Tuesday, I realized that it is impossible to write when one is empty or exhausted. I know this from my own experience with writing. Interestingly, I had a grant due that Friday and was feeling empty and exhausted. I canceled class on Wednesday morning. I asked them to take the time for class to rest and then get started with their reflection. Best decision I made. Almost immediately, I received an emailing from a student expressing their thanks for giving space for rest and reflection. I also believed that students submitted more thoughtful reflections. Looking back, I wish I would have encouraged them not only to rest, but rest and prepare for the winter storm with food and water.

 

2. Lead with compassion. After the winter storm, I struggled to figure out how to re-engage with my students after the trauma of the past 10 days and 1 year into a pandemic. I felt unsure about how to ask them to return to class, so I simply asked them to show up. This is an excerpt of my message: “I ask you to arrive again, wherever you are in this moment, and engage for as long as you can. I will linger after class ends for students who want to stay a little longer. I am filled with emotions as I write this message. I can’t imagine what the last week and half has been like for you. It’s been hard for me, too. Yet, from your messages, I know that you are committed to this class, this program, and earning your degree. We will get through this time together. My only expectation for today is that you show up. I will use our time to: 1) check-in and connect with each other and 2) discuss how policy supports/or fails to support people, using our own experiences with the recent winter storm.” I hoped that they would trust me enough to arrive again to this learning space. They all did. What an incredible thing to witness.

 

3. Be willing to change course. Since the start of the pandemic, about this time last year, I have noticed how often I reflect and reset. Sometimes I resist doing what I know makes sense because I am not willing to let go of essential learning activities and graded assignments. I also ask myself hard questions: “What is the minimum amount of work they need to do?” With reflection, I have realized that there are opportunities to eliminate unnecessary work and create space for the things that are meaningful for class and everything after. The idea is separating out the must-have from the nice-to-have. For me, learning is about the process and not the destination. The journey in a course needs to change to reflect our circumstances. It is unreasonable, and, to me, unethical to demand more labor from students than what is absolutely required for learning. Especially when dealing with the layers of trauma due to the pandemic and now the winter storm, the best thing I can do for my students is to check out the current landscape/conditions, chart a new path, and begin again.