What is Your Real Job?

“What is your real job?”

I’ve been asked this question many times during my six years of teaching English online.

The question is not always delivered as tactlessly as that; sometimes, it has a more subtle conveyance.

“Is this your only job?”

“Do you just work on [Insert Company Name Here] or do you have another job?”

While it used to sting for a second or two, I can’t fault my students for the harshly worded questions. After all, English is not their first language, and the nuances of certain words are lost on them. Additionally, cultural differences mean that certain students have no issues with being direct; it’s culturally appropriate for them.

Additionally, some countries’ work culture doesn’t allow for the flexibility of working online, and as such, online jobs are considered less than.

There have, however, been a small handful of students who have asked this question in an attempt to diminish me. They all come from a culture I’m not particularly fond of and do it to equalize the balance of the teacher-student dynamic, but that’s a conversation for another day.

Back to the question.

“What’s your real job?”

“Teaching is a real job,” I responded again with a smile.

I could see he felt bad about his question, suddenly realizing what he’d asked. This was not my intention as he was a sweet man.

This time, it got me thinking.

Do many people feel that teaching is not a real job?

About an hour later, I recounted my tale to a Brazilian student living in Canada, and she admitted that she, too, got that question when she was teaching back in Brazil.

We realized that no one asks this question when you are teaching in a classroom. It is merely working online that elicits the response, “What is your real job?” We concluded that teaching online represents “not working” to some, but why is this still so after a global pandemic that forced many to work online?

Was it the quality of conversations he had had with other teachers that led him to believe online teaching was all fun and games? Is it that he thought I was a part-time teacher as opposed to a full-time one?

I didn’t ask, so I’ll never know.

What I do know, however, is that when I follow up with, “I’m also a writer,” students acknowledge the validity of that as a real job. They immediately bombard me with a barrage of questions.

Here’s the kicker…

I find writing far more fun and less taxing than teaching. If one of the requirements of “a real job” is the incessant drudgery of the workplace and daily grind, teaching is it.

I work full-time as a teacher. Any of the people who have shared a home with me will attest to the long, tiring hours I spend behind my laptop engaging students.

I also work part-time as a writer, toiling to create a name for myself in the industry, while enjoying the process immensely. My greatest desire is to be able to do it full-time.

My teaching hours are split between conversation and grammar lessons depending on the needs and desires of the individual student. Does having a conversation mean that it’s not a real job? Are psychologists and psychiatrists also pretending to work?

Ironic side note, as psychology is listed on my teaching profile, I get a fair amount of students wanting therapy. This does not bother me one bit as I’m a good therapist and enjoy the interactions.

I will say this…

Before I started teaching, I worked in multiple industries, which included banking, foreign exchange, website design, business planning, administration, recruitment, and social services. I have worked eight-hour days and twelve-hour days, but nothing has exhausted me more than teaching English as a Second Language online.

The work is grueling, and many of the conversations are carbon copies of each other. It can be extremely challenging to hold my tongue when I’m confronted with attitudes and ideologies that I fundamentally disagree with, but it’s my job.

It has also been exquisitely rewarding. I have discussed quantum physics with a fourteen-year-old Turkish girl and theology with a Korean Catholic priest. I’ve had numerous students come to me for therapeutic help, learned about medicine, mathematics, and engineering, and made some lasting connections.

In fact, some of my closest friends have come from the teaching platform.

It has kept me housed and fed for the last six years, and will continue to do so until I move on. I am online and available to students for forty hours a week, sometimes more - sounds like a real job to me.

What do y’all think constitutes a real job? Have any of you had someone question the validity of your profession?

Please feel free to buy me a coffee if you like what you read.