Depression revision

Recently, a colleague of mine mentioned to the science department that he admired my relentless pursuit of teaching perfection, as evinced by my neverending tendencies to modify (and hopefully upgrade) my practices. The description is most apt. Even though I have taught for well over 25 years, my pedagogy continues to evolve – sometimes in small, subtle ways, but all too often, the changes are radical and wholesale.

For most of my career, I have believed that this stubborn unwillingness to remain steadfast was due to two things: a sincere desire to teach my students in the best way possible, and a strong genetic predisposition towards workaholicism. But this weekend, I have come across a third reason, that relates much more to my mental health.

On Saturday morning, as I was preparing for my fat bike ride, I reached down to pick up my cycling shorts from the floor and I felt a serious twinge in my lower back. I shouted out my anger at this unfortunate development, since the conditions outside were absolutely perfect and I would be missing out on biking heaven. And for a few minutes, I deluded myself with the idea that these were momentary pains and that I could somehow walk them off in our basement area. But such was not to be. The pain not only persisted, but it actually elevated over time and it was quite clear that my riding was done for the weekend.

This really bummed me out. I had just hurt my back a couple of weeks before, and I was just starting to enjoy the feeling of good health. My core workouts were going well, and I was feeling quite strong. It just seemed so unfair that all of core work could be rendered futile by such a simple act as picking up my shorts from the floor. I could feel my mood spiraling downward fast. Depression was imminent.

Now, I have battled with depression for much of my adult life, so I am no stranger to my dark side. It was especially prominent in my life during the turbulent times of post-secondary. When I felt particularly down, I eagerly sought out any and all ways to make me feel better. I exercised like a madman, hoping that the endorphins would flood my system and wash away all traces of my depression. I read my favourite fantasy novels and movies, immersing myself in the remarkable experiences of others and vicariously experiencing a life of determination and ultimate glory. And all the while, I would listen to music that spoke to my dark mood, which usually meant a huge dose of Sarah McLaughlin.

And sure enough, I did these same things during this weekend, and they had some positive effect. But in the end, they were not successful in shaking me out of my depressed state. There is one key thing that they lack, one vital ingredient that is essential for true restoration of a positive spirit: hope.

So where did I get this most elusive of qualities? Strangely, it came from doing schoolwork on my computer. Strange, eh? But this statement must be qualified, for it was not just any kind of schoolwork.

Earlier in the weekend, I had been creating assignments, labs, and exams during my free time in the early morning hours. But when my depression hit, I abandoned all of those projects without a second thought. It was inconceivable to work on them when I was in such a sorry mental state.

Instead, I looked for a project that would inject hope into my life, and it turns out that this was provided nicely by tackling areas of my teaching practice that had failed this past semester. My mind naturally navigated itself towards my educational weaknesses, and it eagerly tackled the problems, striving to find solutions to them. And after many short walks away from my computer, required to keep my back from becoming totally seized up and in agony, I had some eureka moments that led to key pedagogical changes, changes that could transform the educational experience for my students and lead them to greater levels of success.

With those discoveries firmly entrenched in my mind, my eyes blazed in the light of positivity and optimism and I proceeded to revolutionize my lessons and resources, to make them more in accordance with this new philosophy. I have been at it ever since, spending a full two days modifying so much of my material and being delighted with the results. In effect, I cannot wait to teach this stuff again next year, because I am absolutely sure that it will lead to the best results I have ever achieved as a teacher.

Interestingly, despite the incessant pain in my lumbar region and my tragic lack of mobility, I have been very excited this weekend. And this positive mood has spilled over into my home, allowing me to be a better husband and father than would be the case if I was mired within the sloughs of despond. By solving problems in my teaching life, I became more at peace with the rest of my life. I have no answers to my weak lower back, but somehow, by taking charge of my educational issues, I did not feel helpless and hopeless.

And so, after reflecting upon this in my Ikea chair, I can safely conclude that many of the revisions I have made over my teaching career have been the result of a pursuit of hope. When students have performed poorly on my assessments or my lessons have had absolutely no impact, I have dived deeply into my teaching practice and looked for ways to improve, mostly because this would prevent me from going through a depression and allow me to be a more inspirational, encouraging teacher to my students.

And the persistence of these behaviours subtly indicates that depression is everpresent in my life, living just under the surface of my conscious thought. It is a shark lurking under the dark waters of my soul, just waiting for me to weaken and to surrender to the insistent pull of life’s gravity.

I wonder if my educational revisionist practices are recognized as legitimate solutions to avoid depression. All I know is that they truly work for me, and there are absolutely no drugs involved (well, apart from muscle relaxants, but they have no mood altering properties, as far as I know). If you happen to be a teacher, and especially one who often descends to the darkest of places when the classroom seems so bleak, then you might consider trying this alternative therapy.