I’m an award winner. A National Teaching Fellow. Tonight I collected my award, one of 51 National Teaching Fellows (2023) to walk across the stage. I’ve held off writing this blog, unsure of how I feel, what do I say? Do I need to say anything?
I’ve decided I do. I’ve talked about my failure monster before and I want to exercise (or exorcise) this analogy again. My journey to National Teaching Fellowship wasn’t straightforward. Behind this award is a failed first attempt with some really difficult feedback to take on board. Over a decade of work in education. Far too many hours to count both during my ‘proper job’ and outside of work sustaining engagement in and leadership of multiple projects, delivering talks, lectures, developing workshops, keynotes – all for free. A family reminding me to eat, to get some sleep, to take some time off. Two dogs dragging me outside in all weathers.
But do you know what, for all of this work, my National Teaching Fellowship is recognition of me committing to something. This is something that has evaded me my whole life – I often referred to myself as a jack of all trades, master of none, but my National Teaching Fellowship aspirations helped me to focus, to dig deep and try to understand what matters to me, what my place in this world might be and why and do you know what I found? People matter.
Inclusivity. This is the absolute most important thing in all of this. The topic of my NTF application, the thing that is so important and recognised as such that I’ve won an award for it (it still feels odd to acknowledge, like holding your hands the wrong way but I’m trying to own it!). Inclusivity is my purpose. It all started with my neurodivergent nephew and watching him play Minecraft, problem solving and learning with his sister (my niece). I’m an educator using these lived experiences, striving for a more inclusive educational experience, create spaces for everybody to succeed, no matter what that space looks like.
I love being an educator. I’m not traditional in any sense. I’m divergent (in many ways, hello impending diagnoses). I work in Professional Services, I’m a learning designer and there have been times where this has made me feel less than. But I’m proud of my job, proud of my career. I am privileged to work with genuinely wonderful people who are striving to make education better. I work on projects directly with students, and some where I teach academic staff all about pedagogy, my love. I get time to explore, be creative, I have people around me who at the drop of a hat will make a cat-based-Cluedo game, help me analyse data (numbers aren’t my friends) or listen to and guide me with my mad ideas. I’m a leader, a teammate, a colleague, a friend, a mentor, an educational developer, a digital education expert, escape room designer and player – I have become so very many things.
I have made so many friends in the wider HE sector, something I didn’t think I was capable of. An amazing community of truly brilliant humans working to make HE a better place for their students, supporting one and other through difficulties, celebrating wins – being a part of this community is my greatest privilege and without the opportunities afforded by others who have trusted me with their students, their colleagues, I for sure wouldn’t be in this position.
It takes a village, you know? It might be my award, but from my perspective I just see all of these people around me, pushing me in the right direction. Helping me through mental blocks, walking me through crippling imposter syndrome, cheering the tiniest of successes and generally just being awesome.
I’ve felt uncomfortable thinking about what it means to be a National Teaching Fellow, to have the NTF post nominals because to me I’m just doing my job. Being an NTF is BIG and IMPORTANT and MEANS SOMETHING and what if it’s an error? and how do I sit with all of these congratulations and people seemingly being happy for me (my VC even sent me an email!)
Durham has been so very good for me. The support, the mentoring, the encouragement – I’m lucky to work in such a fantastically supportive place. If I’ve learned one thing from the amazing leaders I’ve been fortunate enough to be surrounded by it’s that I need to stop minimising my wins and celebrate them. So here I am, I’m owning this one. I’m going to claim this space and sit in it, like a queen on her throne. A queen on her throne plotting and figuring out how to absolutely smash open all of the doors (and windows) for others to be able to indulge in and focus on what matters to them. To be passionate and to push themselves, even when it feels uncomfortable.
Here I am, a National Teaching Fellow asking you, the person reading this random outpouring to just take a minute and think about something that really matters to you. I want you to give yourself permission to go for whatever that is, with all of your heart and soul and to know, that even if you find your failure monster on the way, there are friends around you and we are here to soothe your losses, help you redirect if needed, or to try again and to blumming well celebrate those wins, no matter what they are. It might seem overwhelming, it might seem scary, but hey what’s the worst that can happen? As long as you learn from it, that’s a win. And if that happens to be an NTF application, well, get in touch – I want to know about you and about what’s important to you.
A final word from me. To the little girl in the picture, seeing her first computer. That machine is going to be the thing that empowers you to be an educator doing the thing that matters the most to you, including others and it’s going to change your life. You’ve got this kid, just keep pushing those barriers and challenging those expectations.
Rachelle O'Brien 