Set an Example of a Normal Life
When instructors overwork, students think they must do the same.
By Mel Chua
Dear faculty,
Please don’t try to be superheroes all the time.
Yes, we know you want to make the world a better place. You love to teach. You’re passionate about your research and our growth as your students. We understand all these things are important to you, and that’s part of why you work so hard. However, we’d like to say: Please do not feel obliged to be superhuman. Actually… please stop.
You see, we learn about the world from watching you. What does it mean to be an engineer? What does it mean to be a scholar? If you overload your roles, we’ll think that in order to make a difference as an engineer or professor, a person must stop sleeping. Or have no hobbies or time to spend with one’s family. Some of us might grimly accept this as the cost of duty – and we’ll perpetuate that image of stress and burnout to our students and employees down the line. Others might refuse to make such tradeoffs and decide they can’t continue on this route and be successful engineers or researchers without selling their souls to overwork.
Sometimes you’ve told us that we need to take better care of ourselves. This usually comes after a late night when we stagger into your classroom or office bleary-eyed or close to tears. You’re right. Some of us do need to learn to pace ourselves, how to become sustainable, how to say no.
You know how you can best teach us to do that? By modeling self-care and sustainability. Go home at reasonable hours! Don’t answer email in the middle of the night. Tell us you can’t meet because you’re going to have breakfast with your parents. We will learn these things are important and that we can and must take time for our lives.
Also, we will survive. When you say no – either to us or when we watch you turn down other opportunities – we learn your limits and learn to not be ashamed of our own. We learn there will always be more opportunities – and that if there aren’t, we can make them. We’ll learn to live from a place of abundance rather than a place of fear.
Another thing: We care about you, too. Maybe we don’t know how to show it, but we do notice when you’re exhausted and frazzled. We notice when you’re stressed and grumpy and trying to pretend that everything’s okay. We worry about you sometimes and don’t want to watch you burn out. (We really like having you around.)
Think about your favorite students or the ones you could see following in your footsteps. Think about the life you’d like them to be able to live, the career you’d like them to have, the balance you’d be proud to watch them emulate. Then live that way yourselves. You know all those hopes and dreams you have for our generation, for our future? We probably want many of those things for you right now as well.
Perhaps you won’t always be able to achieve balance; after all, the world isn’t a perfect place. Insufficient resources, teaching overloads, tenure-related stress, and discrimination – all these things are facts of life in academia. But we will never change them until we start trying to live closer to the way we want the world to be.
You are our role models for being engineers and scholars, and we absolutely appreciate the hard work that takes – even if we may not fully realize that right this moment or be aware of all you do. First and foremost, however, you model for us what it means to be an adult, navigating this big, chaotic world with prudence and wisdom. None of us is superhuman; we all are just good people who work hard and try our best to make a difference. You are among our role models for learning to live well. Please be the people you hope we will grow up to be.
And get some sleep.
Mel Chua is a Ph.D. student in engineering education at Purdue University.