How to model resilience after an illness

“Teaching throws up all kinds of challenges, and you need to be resilient.”

I was warned again and again by friends and books and websites. Despite all the warnings I hardly felt prepared when, only a couple of months into my first year of teaching, I was diagnosed with a serious medical condition.

I had surgery towards the end of Term 2 and after a month of recovery returned to work at the start of Term 3.

My return was particularly difficult because the surgery had left me with Bell’s palsy. This is a condition in which the facial nerve becomes inflamed or swollen, leading to paralysis on one side of the face. Bell’s palsy is normally temporary, but the time it takes patients to recover varies enormously.

I felt nervous before fronting my classes on the first day back. How would my students react to my face – with its mouth drooping on one side, and left eye that wouldn’t close properly?

Facial expressions are so important in teaching, and in particular a well-placed smile can achieve so much. Now, the closest thing to a smile I could manage was a lopsided smirk.

As it happened, most students didn’t seem at all phased. A couple of students asked me in private what had happened and whether I was OK. Sometimes their candidness was hilarious and kind of adorable.

“Miss, what happened to your face?!” cried one concerned student. I just smiled (or wonky-smirked) and told him what happened, and that was that – we got on with studying Lord of the Flies.

Over the past few weeks, I have tried my best to model resilience for my students. It would be a lie to say that my confidence hasn’t been affected, but I can at least show them that a change in appearance doesn’t have to negatively affect your work or your relationships.

When my students make me laugh (which happens a lot), I try to avoid instinctively covering my mouth.

When I start crying spontaneously out of one eye (I am now the proud owner of an extremely overactive left tear duct), I just wipe my face with the back of my hand and carry on teaching.

I am fortunate in that there is still a good chance my face will eventually recover. In the meantime, I have enjoyed the support of staff from my school, Teach For Australia (TFA), and Deakin University, all of whom have been extremely flexible as I struggled to meet deadlines being quite sick.

A fellow TFA Associate sent me daily emails with her notes from the Intensive I missed, and another teacher at my school covered my Friday classes so that I could work a shorter week.

Deakin academics helped me to arrange alternative due dates for my assignments, and my Teaching and Learning Adviser called me regularly to make sure I was okay.

Teach For Australia requires its associates to show resilience, because you never know what challenges your first year of teaching will throw at you.

Thankfully we aren’t required to face those challenges alone.