A different kind of stress, gone!

Having been a mechanic in an ideal setting with the Air National Guard for 20 years, I know the value of sharing your thoughts, working with partners, and having that constant feedback. My current boss there is fond of saying, “it never hurts to get a second pair of eyes on something.” The availability of a second opinion does wonders for your confidence, growth and learning curve. When it comes to a safety issue like brakes or steering, a second opinion should be required.

Having spent the last month and a half as a mechanic at a commercial dealership with a very similarly effective atmosphere, I wonder how typical that is. I know that in many dealerships where flat rate is the norm, a mechanic is almost encouraged to look out for himself, perhaps even at the expense of the dealership, the other mechanics, and the customer. I was thinking about this on the way home from work the other night. I was thinking how lucky I was to have learned what I have as a mechanic in a far more nurturing, tolerable, even fun environment.

For some reason this got me thinking about my most recent job interview where I got this same feeling from my future co-workers. It’s one of the things that impressed me about the position. What I thought most about was how being a teacher had prepared me for every situation they asked about in their “performance based interview.” Every situation they asked me to relate to them led to a time in a classroom or an extracurricular activity. Management decisions were made. Budgets were balanced. Funds were raised. Tough choices, difficult customers or colleagues... you name it, I dealt with it as a teacher. But what really stood out among this new position, my positions as a mechanic and what separated them from teaching was the availability of that second opinion – some informed feedback.

This, for me, is what explained the constant stress I felt, even in the summer, as a teacher. I mentioned previously that on the weekend before my first day as an official mechanic, I felt like a weight had been lifted off of me. Instead of the routine Sunday night dread that used to set in, I was actually excited about going to work. It has remained that way for six weeks now. At first I thought this was because I just didn’t care about my job, but I do care about it. It may not be what I intend to do for the rest of my life, but I enjoy it, want to do well at it, respect my bosses and co-workers and just plain do care. Our customers could get hurt if I didn’t. And I enjoy seeing them get excited about what we do for them. Our products help people retain their independence and mobility. It’s a good feeling and I do care about it.

Then I thought the stress was gone because I’d only been doing the job for 6 weeks, but the guys I work with have all been there at least six years, some for 26 years. They don’t seem to show the signs of the kind of stress I felt as a teacher. So I felt like I’d really zeroed in on why teaching took so much out of me. When I first started teaching, I thought this stress came with the job simply because it was the first job I really cared about enough to be stressed. I figured it was the same way for everybody who had a job they cared about. I thought it was just part of the deal of “getting a haircut and getting a real job” if you will. But now I’m starting to question that. I mean, after a week at my current job I began questioning whether I’d ever go back to the stress of teaching for the money it paid when I could make that same money without the stress. I wondered if any other teachers knew that was possible. It’s not like teaching was going to send my kids to Harvard any more than being a mechanic would. I began to seriously question whether it was worth it to live under that pressure and I used to constantly wonder what was wrong with me that I couldn’t manage it better. After all, I used to think, everyone feels stress at work, right? I should just suck it up and deal with it.

But between the interview, my current job, and these strange thoughts that pop into my head during the evening commute, I’ve realized it’s that stress of not knowing how you’re doing that is so inherent to teaching. That’s what eats teachers up. Not having another adult around to run something by. Not having some informed feedback. Always having to guess whether or not this will work and then only hearing about it when it doesn’t. That’s the weight I felt being lifted. I now work with adults who tell me if I’m screwing up before it becomes an issue. In fact, I’ve been luckier than just that. I’ve worked with adults who actually take the time to help me out, who don’t mind if I ask lots of questions, and who kind of expect that it will work like that because that’s the kind of team we try to make it.

I’d experienced this in the guard for so long I suppose I took it for granted. It never occurred to me that work should be like this outside of the guard. Until that interview and a subsequent drive home from work one night, it never occurred to me just how opposed to this concept teaching can be. One adult is alone during the planning stage, during the execution stage and during the evaluation and revisions stage. The only real time feedback comes from teenagers who don’t want to be there in the first place and so it is almost exclusively negative no matter how well planned, creative or innovative the project. Sure, you hear from a principal once or twice a year during formal evaluation times in order to see if your contract will be renewed, but even that provides little in the way of useful input. Evaluations are kind of like extreme sports – there’s no in between, no margin of error. You’re either successful and you live, or you’re unsuccessful and you die.

Where I work now, I can always get someone to take a look at what I’m doing, ask about a better way to solve a problem, or ask if they’ve ever done this before. As a teacher, you can never leave a classroom full of kids to do that. You can never go across the hall and say, “hey Jim, can you abandon your class to come over and watch me teach this unit on revising for clarification and tell me what you think... it should only take three days for me to present all of the material.” One of the reasons I’m so excited about my new job is that this is the very impression they gave me about it. Collaboration is how they do their work. It’s expected. As a teacher not only was that not expected, it was nearly impossible.

Now don’t take this the wrong way – I loved teaching. I just can’t get over the weight of that stress and how little of it I feel now. I guess I just assumed that it worked that way for everyone. I thought it must just be part of growing up. Whenever I’d think about that expression, “find a job you love and you’ll never work a day in your life,” I figured it was just more idealistic crap that could never really happen, but I’m starting to change my mind now.

Between realizing that one’s job is not necessarily one’s identity and this startling realization about different kinds of stress, I’m starting to think maybe that adage is true... or at least that there is some truth to it. There are certainly different kinds of stress in the world. Getting used to weekly rocket attacks is one kind. (turned out to be easier than I ever thought) Doing hard, physical labor is another. Having no adult interaction in a job that you feel really should have some is one that snuck up on me and became heavier than I ever realized until now.

I guess what I’m really trying to say is, be nice to your kids’ teachers. You may be the first adult they’ve been able to talk to in a while. Start with acknowledging that 90% of what they do is probably pretty good, then go into the one thing that bothered you enough to take the time to approach them. (cuz you know that's the only reason you've bothered approaching them)

OK, enough preaching for now. I’ve got a week off before the new job starts and I’ve got at least 6 weeks worth of projects planned for that week. Can you tell I'm stalling?

Later dudes.
Luth