Working Light: How to Maintain Empathy When We’ve Got Nothing Left To Give
As we approach the end of the semester, it seems like our deadlines begin to pile up around us, like bricks in a wall. And what happens when we’re behind a wall? We feel blinded, isolated, alone and trapped. One of the most challenging parts of being a TA is maintaining empathy for our students, when their needs and demands on our time can just feel like more bricks in that wall.
Take care of yourself first
“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.” – Anne Lamott
Maybe you know the feeling. It’s hour three in front of your laptop and you’re not even half way through the assignments you’re supposed to finish marking that week. You can’t stand the thought of reading another word of undergraduate writing, let alone somehow scavenging the energy to craft thoughtful feedback. You’re just done. No amount of willpower, discipline or caffeine is going to get you through this.
The situation is critical. It calls for a Beyoncé Dance Party. The song? Blow from the 2013 masterpiece of an album “Beyoncé”. But wait, isn’t that the one about…? Yes, that’s the one. It’s five minutes and nine seconds of sticky, luscious, synthy, pink-tastic pop and it’s AMAZING. Close Canvas. Open up YouTube. Find a corner where you can gyrate without knocking anything over. It’s Beyoncé Dance Party time.
OR maybe you’re not the dance party type? Maybe the situation calls for fresh air. Nothing drastic, just a wander around your block. Have you noticed the leaves on your street somehow changed colour without you noticing? What’s that bush called, the orange one at the corner of your neighbour’s driveway? Winterberry holly? Isn’t it great? As if mother nature suddenly decided to get into the Halloween spirit. Breathe. Count to thirty. Pick up a soggy flower from the sidewalk and roll it between your fingertips. Breathe.
But it’s raining and cold and I’m out of clean socks so no thanks I’d rather stay in. No problem. You can find your five minutes and nine seconds of bliss anywhere. Maybe it’s a hot shower. Maybe it’s child’s pose. Maybe it’s a cup of hot chocolate while you watch the trailer for A Star Is Born for the thirtieth time. Heck, maybe it’s just a micro nap.
Whatever your break looks like, take it.
Let it out and let it go
“You remember too much,
my mother said to me recently.
Why hold onto all that? And I said,
Where can I put it down?”
― Anne Carson
Let’s face it, even the best of us lose patience with our students. Maybe it’s after you’ve answered the same question five times in one day (you know that question that could be answered if only they were to just READ. THE. SYLLABUS), or maybe you’ve just read three back-to-back stories about the death of a childhood pet, or maybe you’ve just spent an hour in the TA office waiting for an appointment that didn’t show. Whatever the reason, it’s normal to feel frustrated with your students from time to time. It’s also healthy to want to vent that frustration to your peers.
But we also have a responsibility to our fellow TAs not to foster an environment of negativity. As tempting as it is to share our woes full volume in the CRWR Lounge, are we being mindful of how we’re affecting the emotional energy of that shared space? And what about the students themselves? CRWR is literally a hallway, you never know who’s listening. And don’t think just because your Facebook is private, your students won’t stumble on that catty status update. The last thing you need is for your rant to go viral.
My advice? Keep it off campus and off line. Organize a group marking session in someone’s living room (pick the person with the best snacks!) and take turns talking through your more challenging marking assignments. Get your worst instincts out before you click Speed Grader. That passive aggressive email your student sent you? Write out your zinger-full response on a napkin, then throw it away.
Remind yourself of where you were once
Grading is hard, you guys. Not only is it tedious and slow-going, it’s emotionally taxing. If you’re anything like me, each assignment is an emotional rollercoaster. If I have to give a low mark, I’m miserable thinking about how disappointed that student will be. I take on all their troubles, real and imagined. I worry about their GPAs, I fear I’ll scare them off writing forever. It’s exhausting. But even giving good grades causes me anxiety! I worry I’ll throw off the curve and mess up grading for my fellow TAs. I’m constantly unsure if I’m doing the right thing. Was that comment too harsh? Too vague? Too short? Am I being fair? Should I meet with that student before they hand in their paper or will that influence my marking? If I don’t meet with that student, does that make me a bad TA?
We’ve probably all got our own inner doubts about our abilities as TAs and we probably all have our own ways of dealing with them. It’s easy to succumb to the temptation to dial down the empathy. To think of our students as names on a screen, bricks in the wall.
But what if, and hear me out on this, we chose instead to care even more? To move closer, instead of stepping back? This doesn’t mean doling out As like candy bars, rather, it’s about remembering yourself when you were a student. Thinking about those teachers who inspired you. Chances are, they weren’t the ones who graded the easiest, or told you what you wanted to hear. I’m betting the teachers you remember are the ones who took the time to meet you in the middle. The ones who recognized your effort over your delivery. The ones who taught you something about yourself, about your work.
It’s through empathy that we can aim to be those kinds of teachers. In looking for the emotional truth in works that on first read might seem cliché or melodramatic. In finding the one word in that cringe-y poem that sings. In calling out laziness, reminding our students to take art-making seriously, to give to creative writing what they give to their other classes. In recognizing the hurdles they overcome to put those words on a page, barriers of access and language.
This might seem like more work, but it’s work in the light. It’s work in open air. It’s a work without the added burden of anger, resentment and worry weighing us down. And it may just end up being work that makes a lasting change in the life of a student.