Chasing Stardust

Caution: Self-indulgence and self-pitying ahead. You have been forewarned.

Ever had the feeling that you’re just chasing something that doesn’t quite exist? Something intangible, that you know you want, but struggle to even describe, let alone put your hands on? And you just know that if you got your hands on it, you’d be that much happier?

I got a new job recently. I’m a primary school teacher – a return to classroom teaching after two years’ break, and a shift from my original profession as secondary school teacher. Now, I like teaching. I’m even good at it. I’ve been told so by many people. But the frustrating thing about teaching – and so many other things – is the other shit you have to put up with at the same time. Behaviour, for example. I lost count of the number of times I had to stop and “give warnings” today simply for kids being stupid, or talking when I’d asked them to listen, or getting up and wandering around the room, or… You get the idea. Kids will be kids, you may say. Well, yes, they will – but it’s frustrating. I remember being a kid and being terrified to step out of line. I was (and still am) a bit of a goody-two-shoes, of course, but you know what? I’d rather be that than a dick.

Then there’s the other stuff. I’m new to primary teaching, so I’m feeling pretty overwhelmed with new things to learn. The year group team that I’ve joined are very supportive, though, which is good – it means I can bug them with questions when I don’t know what something means, or don’t understand a procedure, or, more to the point, haven’t had a procedure explained to me.

Ah, procedures. Close friend of paperwork. Both of them largely pointless in nine situations out of ten. All they have succeeded in doing so far is 1) messing up my desk within five minutes of me taking possession of it 2) overwhelming me with unnecessary paperwork and 3) making me feel inadequate. And I can do without feeling inadequate right now.

Everyone gets the jitters when they start a new job. I’m hoping this feeling of being overwhelmed and unsure of myself passes. I’m still in two minds as to whether I’m doing the right thing. Lots of people have told me that they thought I’d make a good primary school teacher. I agree – at least that I would be good at teaching primary-age children. It’s the other bits that I worry about not being able to hack. I am neither the most assertive person in the world nor the most organised person in the world, so the twin evils of “behaviour management” and paperwork together form a giant super-nemesis for me. It also doesn’t help that previously, having found a job that I genuinely did enjoy, like, even love for a while, it was taken away by an inconsiderate management team who succeeded in destroying my self-confidence by caring more about the bottom line than the welfare of their staff. So a big “fuck you” to them, if you please.

Of course, I have only been working there for three days so far, so it is highly likely that I am being premature in my judgement of myself as borderline-incompetent. That’s that pesky tattered and torn self-confidence talking.

This is the rub though. I find myself struggling to think what else I can do. Actually, that’s not quite accurate. I find myself struggling to think what else I can do that will pay the bills in a reliable manner. There are loads of things that I love doing – things that I’d much rather do than be cooped up in a classroom with thirty kids – but they’re either unpaid or erratic work. Writing, for example. I love writing. I love blogging. I love writing fiction. I love writing about games, and about music. I love writing semi-incoherent rants that people somehow find entertaining while the big vein in my head pops. I love tweeting and commenting on things. I’d love to be able to sit and write all day and be paid for it, but realistically that’s highly unlikely to happen. Of course, a glass-half-empty approach doesn’t get anywhere, but it’s – yes – frustrating. It doesn’t have to stop me enjoying doing it when I have the chance, though – hence this blog, and hence my entry in this year’s NaNoWriMo.

There are so many things I love doing – teaching, music, writing, gaming, podcasting, production, film – so why is it so damn hard to find something to settle on and just enjoy? Why does everything have barriers to entry – and yet more barriers to negotiate once you get inside?

I guess I should be more positive. But I can’t help but think that I’m getting that “I’m nearly 30” feeling and wondering where on Earth I’m going. One day I might find an answer. Until then, I’m just chasing stardust.