Confession: I am not an SLP.
I hold and maintain Certificate of Clinical Competence in Speech-Language Pathology. I earned a Master’s of Science degree in the same field. I practice this profession. I exercise the skills of an SLP. I apply my expertise to evaluate and treat a variety of speech, language, and swallowing disorders.
I do all those things regularly. But I am not an SLP.
No – this post isn’t about imposter syndrome or self-doubt (been there though!). This post is about this tiny way I am creating a bit of work-life balance while working as a speech therapist.
What the heck do you mean you’re not an SLP?
Okay, okay, okay.
I am an SLP.
But I don’t like to say it that way.
Lately, I’m trying to say things like, “I work as an SLP.” Or when I’m in a staff meeting, and I’m introducing myself to co-workers I’ve never met, maybe I’ll say “I provide speech and language therapy services.”
See? It isn’t a huge difference (I said it was tiny” in the title!)
Here’s some other ways I like to say it:
- I work as an SLP
- I provide SLP services
- I provide speech/language therapy
- I work in healthcare / special education
- I work with children with communication disorders
- I’m an SLP, but just here at work.
So, how does that give you work-like balance?
I am not my job
This small linguistic shift is a reminder that I am not my job.
Do I love my job? Heck yes.
But in the pie-chart of my identity, my job is a pretty slim slice. And for me, that’s okay.
I feel very fortunate to be able to do work every day that brings me personal satisfaction. I get to spend my days alongside children, being creative, laughing from my belly, empowering, supporting, analyzing, thinking critically.
But at the end of the day, it is only one part of the many that make up my identity.
It isn’t magic. It’s a mindset.
When I started saying “I work as an SLP” instead of “I am an SLP,” the sky didn’t open up and let celestial light shine down. My workload didn’t shrink. My commute didn’t get any shorter, and I didn’t suddenly get flawless skin, a huge raise, and perfect hair.
I don’t mean to be flippant, but this isn’t magic. It’s a mindset.
It is a reminder that just like the conditions for burnout are created with a thousand tiny actions, so can we create the conditions for engagement and healthy boundaries with tiny changes in how we speak. It’s a prompt to leave work at work. It’s a nudge to take breaks when I need them. It’s me quietly telling myself that even if my professional life isn’t perfect all the time, that doesn’t have to affect the other 99% of my life.
You Might Need A Different Reminder
It might seem silly to you to make such a tiny distinction. That’s okay! This is one thing I’m doing that is helping me at the moment, so I thought I’d share in case it is helpful to you.
Maybe you need a different reminder to not burn yourself out.
- A photo of loved ones on your desk.
- A timer on your phone reminding you to take a quick walk outside.
- A dear friend or coworker that forces you to close your laptop during lunch and enjoy your food.
Where is this coming from?
This post has been stewing in my subconscious for a while.
Since I made that small shift in how I talk about my work, I have been thinking more and more about it. It has created a bit of mental space in which I can remember that I am more than my job.
The Philosophy Of It
I came across this podcast episode “The Illusion of the Ego,” and I got really interested when the host started talking about dementia patients.
A friend has written a letter to the show host, Noah Rasheta, about visiting a loved one in a care facility. Many of the patients can’t remember their assigned seat in the dining hall, and so there is a laminated page at each seat with photos that are meaningful to them (I’m sure your SLP senses are tingling!).
He goes on to share this very moving bit which I’ve included here verbatim:
“For example, I met Patricia who told me guided by the pictures that she’d been traveling around Australia. I could also see from the pictures that she loved scones with jam and cream, and had some recent grandchildren. Each person’s laminated placeholder was the same, 10 to 15 photos that reminded them of who they were. It was beautiful and somehow deeply sad. The thought that someday your life, however long and prosperous, might be the still down to 10 photos that will define you.
I can’t help but notice the kinds of things these pictures were, too. Patricia had 90 something years to her name. Ninety years of stuff that might have been on that page, all the accomplishments and the memories, the people and places, friends who came and went, highs and lows, joys and sorrows, love and hate, and boredom and anticipation, anxiety and calm, fear and peace. And at the end of it all, there were scones with jam and cream. Ten percent of her photos were dedicated to that. Ten percent of who she is. It struck me that with the brevity of life, the constant coming and going of things, what remained in the end for these men and women was what they had loved. Sitting their past 90 years of age, suffering from dementia, most of what you ever though was important is gone. The arguments and the hurts and the conversations and the judgements and the regrets, they’re all faded or forgotten. Your friends might be gone, your bank balance definitely isn’t going to be on that page and even the business you built doesn’t photograph well, and it probably isn’t that interesting anyway.”
Noah Rasheta – Secular Buddhism
As I listened to Noah reading the letter, I was crying of course. If I were Patricia, or any other person in that care facility, what would I want on my laminated page? Photos of my family, the mountains where I enjoy hiking, my friends? Would I have a picture of my former employer’s logo on that page? Would I want it? What about the faces of clients? All of them surely wouldn’t fit, but maybe one or two that I felt particularly close to?
I can answer that question for myself, for right now. I know the answer will change over time.
I also know the answer is different for you. It should be.
The Science of It
Did you know there is actual research on this topic?
The technical term for “how-much-you-are-your-job-or-not” is work-centrality, and psychologists have been studying it for a while.
Technically, work-centrality refers to “the degree of importance work plays in one’s life (Paullay, Alliger, & Stone-Romero, 1994), but apparently people who study it have a hard time nailing down a definition.
When I first started reading this kind of research in preparation for this post, I thought to myself, “Surely higher work-centrality is correlated with higher levels of burnout.”
It turns out the answer isn’t that simple (sigh).
Sometimes higher levels of work-centrality actually mean better work life balance, like for the doctors in this study: Sharma, 2017. The author identified this seemed to vary by age. In other studies it kind of seems that higher work-centrality also means you’re less likely to be upset when you have to miss family-stuff for work but that also means you have a better attitude toward your job (Carr, Boyar, and Gregory, 2008).
Another article really showed that there are a lot of other factors involved like locus of control, work self-discipline, and autonomy among others (Hurschfeld, Feild, 2000).
Wrapping It All Up
I love working as an SLP. I’m proud of and satisfied that I directly help people increase the quality of their lives. Whether I look back at my day on my drive home or back on my career when I retire, I’ll know that my net impact was positive.
Yet all of that is only a part of who I am.
This is something I’ve learned and am constantly re-teaching myself.
In closing, I leave you with this bit of prose from poet, memorist, and civil rights advocate Maya Angelou (may she rest in power):
“I’ve learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life. I’ve learned that making a ‘living’ is not the same thing as making a ‘life.’ I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one. I’ve learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn. I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
~ Maya Angelou (MayaAngelou.com)
Some References & Suggested Reading - "9 to 5" by Dolly Parton - Getting There: Maya Angelou ("making a ‘living’ is not the same thing as making a ‘life.’ ") - Your Job Doesn't Define You by Paula Lawes at TinyBuddha - "You are Not Your Job" by Dr. Leahy at Psychology Today - The Illusion of the Ego by Noah Rasheta from Secular Buddhism