August Letter

So I was offered my dream job.

As most of you know, I also teach in the Master of Counselling at the University of Canberra (UC). I love it there, except it is all online, and my screen-drunk eyes were begging me to do something other than look at a computer all day, as my other project outside of my work with you is that I do a PhD (also all online).

During my own masters degree, I would often daydream about what it would be like on the other side of the pedagogical wall. Certain lecturers there inspired me so much that I wished to be working with them, running my own classes, and sharing ideas during our team meetings. Other lecturers bored me to the point of irritation, where instead I’d imagine myself in their place. I’d sit there blinking at the Zoom room wondering how I would rework this lesson to be more dynamic, more awe-inspiring, like the other classes I had. What would I change? I’d think to myself.

You see, I have always loved teaching. My mum works as a teacher’s aide, and so if I wasn’t at my own school I would be at her school, or, she would bring back worksheets, craft materials, books, and educational toys for my sister and I to play and learn with at home. I was also always the teacher when my sister and our neighbours would play “schools”. I’d have my chalkboard (later whiteboard) and desks set up with pencils in a cup on each. I’d create lesson plans, school uniform designs, the names of the school houses, and architectural site plans of the imagined school grounds using my dad’s geometry kit. I was the perfect student as well: something that I am continuing to dismantle and re-author within myself as I continue through my own education.

I love teaching. And so as soon as I finished my masters I somehow wiggled my way into being a teacher at UC's Master of Counselling. Some of my students I know are reading this (hi!) and so I’d like to thank you all now for creating the “cult-following” (as one of the coordinators at UC says) that I have there.

Is this my dream job though? Actually, no. My dream job is to be a unit coordinator and lecturer: the person who is in charge of the unit, its material, its assessments, its design and structure, and all those who also teach within it. The dream role is a level B - lecturer position. Right now, as I write that, I notice the physical sense of discomfort rise up from my diaphragm toward my shoulders. They lift up as if to hide myself away into an imaginary shell. It’s funny to feel that embarrassment I have about even putting those requests or goals out into the ether and for others to read. Am I worth that? Am I good enough? Am I anything?

It feels different to the private space that is my journal, where every six months I re-write my goals for the upcoming first or second half of the year. Six months ago I wrote “In-person lecturing position” as the goal; a huge stretch considering I am not even a level A in academic terms. I am not even on the scale and I’m asking to jump to B?

Well, I got it.

A few weeks ago a level C, senior lecturer and course coordinator (as in, directing either the bachelor or masters course) was advertised at a leading Sydney institute in counselling and psychotherapy. My literal instant thoughts when I saw it were “lol why not?” and so I applied thinking let’s just see what happens. To reiterate, I am not even a level A and I’m applying to a level C. The next one after that is a level D: associate professor. Again, “lol.”

How do you back yourself that much? I hear some of you thinking. This is the beauty of parts-work. Keep in mind, at this point I am still knees deep in burnout, and whilst I have many parts of me who were previously hidden in the shadows of my psyche whispering to me that I can’t do anything at all because it’s all extremely terrifying and I can’t trust myself, I also have my Self who is grounded and playful and chill. When we turn to face these exiled parts of us and bring them closer to us to seek to understand their points of view, we naturally see change happen in our behaviour and external world because we are hijacking (in a loving way) the internal system. By integrating these cast-out parts and caring for them and their needs in a healthy way, we are able to shift the narratives that were previously on auto-pilot. My narrative, the “I can’t trust myself,” shifted to “let’s just see what happens if we experiment with trusting ourself.”

I got the first interview. And the second. And whilst I didn’t meet criteria for the level C, I was offered the level B: an in-person lecturing role, just as I wrote on my goals list.

Except, on Monday, I decided to decline.

Why?

Because despite it being what I initially wanted, it also didn’t fully meet the picture I had planned. What I really wanted was unit coordination, of which there was only vague conversation around despite my questioning. I also really didn’t want to work the required late nights each week or each weekend. So I said no.

I declined the dream job, but what it made me realise was that I already have the dream job. Bloody hell! If 21-year-old me could see what I’m doing her jaw would drop. This experience made me appreciate what I already had, which I didn’t realise until now that I was deeply overlooking. Addictive self development does that to you, I guess. And so as I write this, a monthly letter to those I genuinely care about, I feel like I don't need anything else.

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