Secret Teacher: I love teaching but it’s robbed me of the chance to find love
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Version 0 of 1. I am 36 and I already feel I had a better life when I was younger. I am consumed by loneliness as I sit in the school staffroom pondering my future. I sacrificed my tentative 20s to apply for jobs all over the country, instead of building a life with another person. Teaching took over my life, and while I had friends and colleagues to socialise with, I never had the time to build a relationship, or even have anything that resembled it, and gradually my social self-esteem plummeted. Now you may think this is odd, but if you knew that I was gay then it may make more sense. Moving around the country for a job, having to build new friendship groups – often in areas without access to a gay social scene – makes it harder for me as a lesbian teacher to find that special someone who completes my life. It’s more complicated now I’m in my 30s, particularly when you factor in that I also represent my colleagues as an officer in a teachers’ union. My life and free time now take a back seat to their latest needs. As I spend longer in the profession, get better results, perform well, gain the respect of my colleagues and managers, as well as ascending in my union role, there’s an assumption that I must be happy with my life – but I’m not. I have things that fill my time but they never fill the emptiness that I desperately long to be filled by another person. There’s a space in my life that is sometimes filled by brief affairs and short-lived flings, but there remains a vacuum that work can’t satisfy. I watch as my colleagues gradually all move in with their partners, get married, have babies, have more babies, and bring them into the staffroom where a nest of clucking women await. I can’t help but feel a little sad and despondent. They have something I want; not a baby, but the security of a relationship. I cry a little as hope fades. Another year passes despite failed attempts at starting something, usually via internet dating, with someone who wants me for more than just one night. I remember when weekends were when you rested, but now they are filled with coursework marking. Weekday evenings are spent planning for hours, knowing this is the term Ofsted is coming in and you have to be perfect. Weeks into the new term and I already feel hopeless, but not about teaching. If I were an automaton, I’m sure it would be a breeze not to feel lonely. But I feel as though there’s no light at the end of the tunnel for me. I can’t imagine a bright future with a happy family, as it doesn’t seem to want to come to pass. If I had more time to devote to it, I’m sure it would. I’d be able to stop thinking about success criteria and plenaries and other people’s issues for a moment to put my head up and notice that cute lesbian who’s just smiled at me – but it’s not happening. Where did my life go? When I signed on as a teacher I knew there would be sacrifices for the greater good. Even when I took up my union role I reconciled myself to not being able to pursue senior leadership roles, but I never expected that I would die alone. I love teaching – paperwork aside – and I love that I’m good at it too, but it’s robbed me of my future. This week’s Secret Teacher works in a secondary school in the home counties. • In the UK, the Samaritans can be contacted on 08457 90 90 90. The charity Stonewall also has a useful information sevice at 08000 50 20 20. Follow us on Twitter via @GuardianTeach. Join the Guardian Teacher Network for lesson resources, comment and job opportunities, direct to your inbox. |