It’s 5pm, officially
the end of the working day. Time to recharge, relax, reconnect with family. It’s
7pm and my smartphone pings. School sends a meeting reminder for the next morning.
9pm and another beep goes off, it’s the extracurricular head wanting to know if
the online posters for a Language Carnival are ready. 9.30pm and an emergency
Google Meet is called with the head of clubs to delegate duties before a school
meeting the following week. 11pm, and a feeble apology precedes an
all-important question about the contents of one online brochure. At 11.30pm, I
find myself at the laptop, editing a series of silly looking flyers to be sent
via Telegram for immediate approval. The faulty and erratic air-conditioning
abruptly turns on, sending fresh chills through my body. The next day even the slightest
buzz notification on my phone is enough to set off a panic attack.
For
most, home used to mean detaching oneself from work and retiring to your own
life and family. A chance to relax, unwind and most importantly, allow the
brain to rest and recuperate. The pandemic, however, has brought about a huge
shift which has resulted in us not just bringing our work home, but working from
home while living at home, with people from home in the
confines of home. “Home” has lost its special all-important separateness.
Work stress is now experienced live at the kitchen table. Disagreements about
office matters are handled professionally while pacing in the living room.
Suddenly, we find ourselves simultaneously juggling work and everyday life,
without a functioning power button. Just like my erratic air-con unit, work
functioned in the same unpredictable manner, blasting out cold, unfeeling work
emails and announcements round the clock.
Before the advent of
distance learning in Malaysian secondary schools, teaching and admin duties
were strictly communicated and carried out within working hours which means if
it was not finished by the final bell, we’d pick it up the next day. In recent
months, with everything available and communicable online, the boundaries have somehow
become increasingly blurred. Schools at times assume to have the right to your
immediate attention 24/7. In an effort
to close the gap between parent–student-admin, teachers’ phone numbers have
become “public property”. Class WhatsApp and Telegram groups are mandatory to
disseminate information, to share important messages, to be observed and
monitored. To add to that, at least 10 admin-related groups exist to coordinate
e-activities, schedule e-meetings and e-competitions. On the one hand, communication
has never been more efficient, organised and time saving. On the other, in
embracing this new normal, we have forgotten the most important ground rule of
respectful communication.
Timing is everything.
Inspiration hits people
at different times and that’s okay. What is NOT okay is to go on a texting
spree, at 2 in the morning just because you are super charged and fired up
about a project. In fact, sending out your rapid-fire messages at odd hours and
expecting immediate responses is both cruel and absurd. If you are in a senior
or more authoritative role, it puts the recipient in a very awkward position of
either feeling like they are directly disrespecting you by not replying
immediately, or less proactive because they are not responding with the same
level of speed and enthusiasm you are. Contrary to the expectation of increased
productivity, this expectation of on-demand replies can actually have adverse
effects on the overall efficacy of the unit, as illustrated in the following
paragraph.
To begin with, staying
connected to work after hours can lead to a very overwhelmed and stressed-out
staff. The reason is simple. If one is meant to respond ASAP, regardless of the
time, then no hour is “safe enough” to relax, to truly be at home, the
term after work ceases
to hold any meaning. Instead, it’s a constant feeling of high alert whenever a
project is around the corner, or a meeting is due. Never being able to just
silence your phone for fear of being accused as “uncontactable” or
“unavailable”, we have conditioned ourselves to check every text, email,
notification and broadcast message. As a result, home activities like dinner,
or conversing with family members, take a backseat as we remain tethered to
work, unable to disconnect, disable and destress.
For the most part, this
letter is calling for stricter observations of after work communication
policies or erecting some if none. It is a plea to schools (and any
organizations for that matter) to start prioritising work-life balance of their
staff. Now more than ever, as we have brought work home, there is a need to
establish clear non-negotiable boundaries between work and home life. As it can
directly affect mental health and performance of any group, stability between
the two cannot be taken lightly. Many employees have become so accustomed to
this way of life, that it is second nature to them to “quickly deal with it”
irrespective of the ungodly hour work might rear its ugly head.
If you find yourself a
swamped and often burnt out victim of these invasive tech-“friendly” times,
it’s time you took a step back and put yourself first. Whether it is as extreme
as turning off data and Wi-Fi or simply muting certain job-related groups, you
will begin to value and furiously guard your right to separation from work
after hours. Just remember, unless it is a matter of life and death, you don’t
owe anyone a response if a “ping!” drops in the middle of the night.
No comments:
Post a Comment