During a recent two-hour CPD meeting, I found my eyelids drooping. But I was pulled back to full consciousness when our manager made a proposal: a lunch club for students. The band of support staff are in agreement, saying it would be “good for the students” and “it’s what students with special educational needs and disability need”; an unusually cheery atmosphere fills the room.

It transpires, however, that the lunch club would be run on a rota basis and take place in our lunch hour with no entitlement to a lunch hour at another time in the day.

It was presented as a fait accompli. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to venture out there for lunch,” said our manager - referring to the poverty-stricken high street that the main college doors lead to. The request to strip us of our lunch hour raised nervous chuckles from a couple of TAs, who volunteered on the spot.

Background: Mental health issues on the rise in colleges

News: Ex-teachers say mental health issues drove them out

Opinion: Why is teacher wellbeing in such a dire state?

Lack of response

I felt their apparent willingness shone a light on my lack of response. Among the rest of us, a frosty silence ensued - even when we were asked if there were any objections. As a full-time TA on probation, I felt pressured to forgo my lunch hour for fear of not looking like I was working as hard as my colleagues.

It would seem that keeping your head down and not voicing your opinion makes you a worthy member of the support team. It struck me how I’ve always told students to be proactive and question the world they live in, and yet my own actions fell short.  

I thought of the email that had popped up in my inbox earlier that morning, inviting me to a staff wellbeing consultation. What I had just experienced was likely to shatter my wellbeing, crush the morale of the support team and affect students negatively. This was all beginning to feel a little bizarre.

There are barrels of evidence to show that people work much more effectively if they take breaks, preferably away from the workplace altogether. But the slashing of education budgets, financial uncertainty and job insecurity has resulted in a culture whereby we allow ourselves to put up with unacceptable working conditions. 

Rocking the boat

Were support staff targeted because we’re possibly considered less informed and less educated? Or was it that despite the low pay, the working hours fitted in nicely around our children’s school holidays and no one would want to rock the boat? I suspected the latter.

Don’t get me wrong: I’ve seen hoards of overworked teachers munch a cheese sandwich at their desk and constantly deny themselves a lunch break, not to mention a lifetime of hours that go far beyond their contracts. But there’s something intimidating about how this important issue is being addressed.

Imagine if we were told that students needed to sacrifice their lunch hour. There would be a public outcry - and rightly so. Dieticians, educational psychologists, parents and teachers would be saying how this would not be conducive to learning, and would lead to a host of mental health problems.

It turns out that management must have thought better of their proposal after all, as the request to work through our lunch hour has been dropped. I have heard no more about it. They knew this would be impossible to implement as it would raise all sorts of issues, some of which would be illegal. But what worries me is that this inference may have been used like a gateway drug to see if acceptance among support staff could be achieved. I predict an unhealthy merry-go-round of further proposals.

Today, I take my lunch hour and as the murky air of the high street hits me, I embrace it. For this precious hour, I don’t want to hear about college budgeting, overspending or how teacher X doesn’t differentiate enough. For that privilege, I have an hour of unpaid time. I’ve often used my lunch hour in creative ways. A nearby cathedral would mean I could go somewhere beautiful, a world away from the busy work environment. I’d breeze back to work refreshed and refocused.

So, management: please don’t rubbish my lunch hour. It’s mine. I’ve earned it.

The author works as a teaching assistant at a college in England