Being an international teacher has many joys, and challenges. While the last two years have been difficult for all of us, those who live and work in far-flung corners of the globe have found the separation from loved ones has put a great strain on their relationships and their wellbeing.
If you are considering an international move but the nagging doubts about continued lockdowns, quarantines and restrictions on travel are giving you pause for thought, here are a few suggestions for staying sane when you do land your dream job:
1. Recognise the fact that you are aiming to stay balanced in a world which is more irrational than usual
We know that the pandemic has caused nations to become inward-facing, more nationalistic, and scared of the “other”. You, as an international teacher working in another country, are by definition “other”. It’s not personal: irrational times lead to irrational feelings, so a degree of empathy is important. Remember that individuals will often be horrified if you suggest they hold such beliefs personally, but you aren’t dealing with individuals, but a societal reaction to extraordinary ongoing circumstances.
2. Find a tribe
Making the assumption that you are working in a school where you have colleagues that you like, and get along well with, find new groups with whom you have shared interests-or those with whom you can develop a shared interest. In an ideal world, you’ll find people outside of your department who share a common experience with you (school as a whole) without the temptation to talk shop all the time (because talking about Grade 10’s prospects in exams over a few drinks is not going to relax anyone). Depending upon where you live and the nature of the wider community, you may have the opportunity to find a new tribe completely unrelated to school, and if you take up a really niche activity outside of work, you can always use it to cultivate an air of mystery…
3. Keep abreast of the news, and changes in restrictions to travel
While following the news closely over recent times can be the last thing to contribute to a positive mindset, it is important to keep a abreast of changes to travel advice and restrictions, and be ready to move fast when things change. Take the opportunity to travel locally if there are cross-border agreements in place which make this possible: even if you can’t get home, a quick change of scenery does wonders. My own recent international trip was notable for the sheer volume of paperwork involved: the days of checking in online and drifting through to the gate by waving your mobile boarding pass are gone, at least for the time being. When you do travel, take multiple hard copies of everything, and stash them in different places in case you lose one set. Build in extra time to account for these checks. Once you’ve done this, the actual travel part feels remarkably normal.
4. If you need help, tell someone
There comes a point when a general malaise moves into something darker and more destructive. Nobody will think any less of you for seeking the help you need. Even if you don’t want to share this with the school’s leadership, make sure there is somebody in school who knows what you’re going through, and who knows you well enough to recognise if you’re going under.
5. Understand that the last couple of years have been incredibly hard on school leaders too
A bit of a plea, from someone who works with a group of school leaders. We all know that in the staffroom, the narrative is often that the leadership team of schools could/should have done things differently. Try to remember that school leadership teams have moved heaven and earth with you to keep your schools ticking over — and they also bear the brunt of parental “advice” on what they could/should be doing. Behind closed doors I can guarantee there have been tears and more than a few long dark nights of the soul. They are doing their best. Let them know that you know this — I can guarantee it will mean a lot to them.
6. Embrace absurdity
There are always things in school, and life, which taken at face value are, frankly, bizarre. Learn to spot, and celebrate them. For example, my recent trip to South Korea entailed an early hours of the morning layover in Dubai, half a rainforest’s worth of paperwork and a very thorough PCR test performed in a car park at 11.30 pm at night by a woman in a wooden booth sporting pink, full-length gloves. If that’s not absurd, I don’t know what is.