lérias...?

in público...

isto já não é [só] um problema de resiliência e mal-estar profissional... é todo um 'programa de escolha forçada', generalizado globalmente...?

no the guardian, education...

"Teaching is a great job. It’s something I’m good at, and at times can excel at. I’ve even had those once-a-decade moments of a child telling you something you’ve done has changed them or inspired them permanently. But “being a teacher” (the whole job and everything it entails) ground me down so much over the course of 10 years that I felt I never wanted to go near students or schools again. I genuinely believed I had no place in the teaching profession and that I had made a lucky escape.

I’m not the only one. This week figures were released by the Association of Teachers and Lecturers which showed that in 2011 only 62% of newly qualified teachers were still teaching a year later – a sharp drop from 2005, when 80% were still teaching after a year.

“Why are we losing the next generation of teachers,” asked Mary Bousted, the ATL general secretary. “Is it, I wonder, because trainee and newly qualified teachers see very early on just what teaching has become and decide that they do not want to be a part of it? Is it that they learn as they work with exhausted and stressed colleagues that teaching has become a profession which is incompatible with a normal life?”

How did I come to leave the profession? I completed my PGCE in my early 20s, before I had a young family, and went to work at a comprehensive. I was teaching English, so the preparation and marking was all-consuming, particularly in the early years after I qualified. As soon as I began having children, I realised how incompatible full-time teaching was going to be with any semblance of that miraculous notion: work-life balance.

I immediately went part-time, which presented its own problems; if you are teaching a core subject you end up with split-teacher classes, which involves detailed lesson handovers and highly organised marking/planning being passed between two teachers (or more – in one particularly complicated year I was one of four teaching the same year 9 class. I don’t know who was more confused, us or the students).

My departmental colleagues were supportive, and I worked this way for several years. But, increasingly, other things began to crowd in. Yes, that workload, the one teachers talk about constantly but I still feel is met with scepticism and suspicion. (Do you really work that much after you leave so early every day? Simply, yes. If I left when school hours finished I had to work later, after I’d eaten and the kids were in bed. And many days, I simply stayed at work long after the final bell.)

I know couples who are both teachers, who take one day each every weekend – one day for childcare, one day for marking and preparation. Separately. And I was only part-time. I found myself growing more and more resentful of the time I spent thinking, planning and worrying about my workload when I wasn’t at work.

Then there was the weight of responsibility I felt for the kids I taught, particularly regarding their exam results. Parents’ evenings were a chance to connect with parents who I didn’t see from one year to the next. Some were grateful, some simply wanted numbers, and some were confrontational: one demanded a detailed copy of every lesson plan I intended to teach for the next half term, because her child had told her he didn’t feel my lessons were interesting enough for him.

The constant doubting of my work, and the passing on of every ounce of the exam burden my way took its toll. I began to examine my dual role as a parent and a teacher with careful scrutiny: did I hold my own children’s teachers entirely responsible for how well they did in every aspect at school? Did I make their teachers feel as I felt? I hoped not, but it’s possible I did.

Eventually, I just got sick of being in a profession that I felt held no real status in this country. I had countless arguments with other parents – they felt that although there were individuals who worked hard, teachers as a whole were lazy and complained too much. Although I knew the opposite to be true, I didn’t want to be seen as one of those any more. I felt flattened by having to constantly justify what I did even deserved a wage (“Miss, my dad said to tell you he thinks it’s disgusting that we pay you to have holidays.”)

People who had been in teaching for much longer than I had told me I just needed to be robust, that it was irrelevant what people thought of your job (particularly those who have no experience of it), and that the students always made it worthwhile. I did love engaging with the kids, but it no longer felt worthwhile. My confidence plummeted, and I knew it was time for me to get out.

I left, and thought that was it for me, that I’d never go near a classroom again. Then I started helping out in specialist drama workshops – outside of schools, in an extra-curricular role that was not attached to Ofsted observations, exam results or parental expectation. To my astonishment, I remembered that at some point I felt I had something to offer children – energy, enthusiasm and creativity.

I now do this as a freelance practitioner, and am relieved I left the classroom “system” before it claimed me as someone else who left teaching, in any capacity, for good."

aqui.

exemplos... força de vontade, organização e resiliência... ensino superior: a arte de frequentar dois cursos ao mesmo tempo...!

"Beatriz e Frederico pertencem a uma minoria de estudantes universitários que tira dois cursos em simultâneo: Especialistas em gerir o tempo, conseguem estar com os amigos, fazer voluntariado e ter boas notas.

Apesar de considerar que o seu dia ideal seria dormir até ao meio dia e acabar as aulas às 15:30, Frederico Toulson levanta-se habitualmente às 6:50 e chega a casa 14 horas depois.

Quase todos os dias, o jovem de 19 anos atravessa a cidade de Lisboa para conseguir ir às aulas dos cursos que está a tirar no Instituto Superior Técnico (IST) e no Instituto Superior de Economia e Gestão (ISEG).

Aluno do 3º ano de Matemática Aplicada à Economia e Gestão (ISEG) e do 2º ano de Matemática Aplicada e Computação (IST), Frederico tem um horário complexo: "Às quartas não venho ao Técnico e às sextas não vou ao ISEG", contou à Lusa.

Até agora ainda só deixou uma cadeira para trás e, com uma média de "16,3 valores num curso e 15 no outro", garante que ainda consegue estar com os amigos e até ir às festas académicas. "Basta gerir bem o tempo", explica.

Também Beatriz Goulão, de 24 anos, usa muito a palavra "gerir": Geriu o tempo de forma a conseguir tirar um curso, fazer dois mestrados e voluntariado em São Tomé e Príncipe sem deixar de ver as séries preferidas, ouvir música, sair com as amigas, estar com o namorado e família.

Durante dois anos, Beatriz foi aluna das faculdades de Medicina e de Ciências. Tinha dois horários, o dobro dos professores e pagou duas propinas: o mestrado em Doenças Metabólicas e Comportamento Alimentar custou cerca de dois mil euros e a propina de Bio-Estatística rondou os mil.

Assim que terminou a licenciatura em Dietética e Nutrição, começou os mestrados que terminou este verão com médias de 16 e 19 valores.

Isto, apesar da interrupção de dois meses para integrar uma missão da AMI em São Tomé como dietista estagiária.

Beatriz e Frederico não são casos isolados. Segundo os dados mais recentes, havia 1.616 estudantes a frequentar simultaneamente mais do que um ciclo de estudos no ano letivo de 2008/2009, altura em que frequentavam o ensino superior cerca de 373 mil alunos.

A Lusa encontrou outros três alunos que frequentam mais do que uma instituição de ensino superior na zona de Lisboa.

Miguel Barbosa está a tirar um mestrado de Bioética e um doutoramento em Psicologia; João Leitão é aluno de mestrado em Arte Multimédia e de Línguas, Literaturas e Culturas. Já Bárbara Menezes está a tirar dois mestrados: Medicina Legal e Ciências Forenses e Medicina Dentária.

Numa época em que as salas de aula das universidades e politécnicos estão cada vez mais vazias, estes alunos valem por dois.

Beatriz e Frederico acreditam que a formação superior é um instrumento essencial para o seu trabalho, contrariando os que defendem que o futuro não passa pelos bancos das Universidades e Institutos Politécnicos.

O número de alunos que se candidata ao ensino superior tem vindo a diminuir nos últimos anos: Uns desistem por dificuldades económicas outros porque querem e precisam começar a trabalhar o quanto antes.

Este ano foram colocados cerca de 49 mil estudantes na 1.ª e na 2.ª fase do concurso nacional, números que preocupam o ministro Nuno Crato que já anunciou que iria pedir "um primeiro inquérito" para analisar a falta de candidaturas."

na tsf...

pode, se quiser, ver [ouvir] o vídeo...

leituras... da educação... ensinar aos alunos 'resiliência'...!

ronald palomares 2008_bouncing back_ teaching children resilience skills