I’m not getting paid for this

When time is a scarce resource and we try to optimise our work-life balance within this binding constraint, we have to make some choices.[i] One of these, at least for me, is knowing what and when I am getting paid for the work that I do.[ii] So, for example, what happens when students (and colleagues) send emails in the evenings and on weekends? My policy has *not* been a hard “no, it will have to wait until the next working morning” (although this is endorsed by researchers). Sometimes these emails are urgent or the time zone difference means not responding only makes it the other person’s non-working hours problem. In other words, I have trouble separating my work from my private life. In theory, I could do some mental accounting and try to claw back the time later. In practice, this does not happen enough and like a sleep deficit it needs to get paid back or there are unpleasant consequences.

Trickier is when, as part of my job as a teacher, students (and colleagues) sometimes expect more than me doing my statutory pedagogical (and collegial) duties. Where is the line between basic pastoral care of student well-being and full-on emotional labour for those having difficult personal situations? Am I supposed to be a professional counsellor to listen to private problems? Or a customer service representative who smiles and accommodates every client request? If universities are increasingly becoming corporatised (and they are), and students expect (and maybe need) more care, how much of my professional integrity, responsibilities, and time remain? Simply put, am I getting paid for this? Probably not.[iii]

I know how to be polite, not lose my temper in work situations, and be kind when someone needs an active listening ear. I also know when to shut my mouth and to maintain professional distance. This professional behaviour, however, is not always reciprocated and I find it hard sometimes to tell others to stop sharing. There can be too much empathy, where one’s own emotional resources are taxed to depletion. If a student curses at me (NB: this happened recently), I am expected to let it go. If the situation were reversed, I would get reprimanded, maybe even disciplined for creating a hostile environment. Is this part of my job, and if so, where is it written in my work contract? 

Everyone has problems, whether they are about work or not. Students face a great deal of pressure, be it academic, financial, personal, even existential. Maybe we can recognise that teachers also have similar pressures, but this is not as widely acknowledged or well-regarded? How do we set boundaries with our time and psychological resources when the lines between work and personal lives (and within work) are blurred? Maybe we should get paid (and trained) for these encroachments, but then we run the risk of every interaction and relationship becoming transactional. Like with my off-hour emails, I don’t have a good answer to this[iv]; maybe you do?