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Ответы и объяснения


Problem: conflict at work.

Happy is the man who does not feel the terrible feeling flogged at the mere thought of the upcoming working day. Some people lose appetite and sleep, longer receive joy from your favorite things. And the reason of stress at work.

Such a feeling recently visited me. I dreamed to work on a speciality, receive professional experience while studying in the Institute. The possibility that God had in 2004 they took me to a psychologist in high school.

This academic year has flown by, as one moment. I was happy. Couldn't disappoint me even indecent small salary, after all, compensated for the work itself. I probably would replacive - it was such a pleasure: burning trusting eyes of children, very, very tiny and taller than me, their emotional response to any of my deed, word or a glance. Smile teachers. Thanks to the parents for not refused, soothed, explained supported. I felt some kind of authority. Similar to magic. And everything worked, and it was easy.

From such a height fall quite stunning. Changed bosses. The Director became a protege of the mayor. Strangely enough, she smelt of convulsive uncertainty. Began! I haven't seen persons - so mired in the papers. Whatever I do, how many would not work at all not valued. Without looking at me indulgently called «young worker» incredulously relate to all products of my work. No, I don't consider myself a first-class specialist. But I do everything that they ever become. And criticism gladly accept but on the merits.

It gets even worse. Me fell ridiculous requirements, strange job, the essence of which I have not realized until now, Frank «figureheads» and, of course, accompanying all this bunch of documentation.

I'm pretty long seen this problem described with me perspective. By a lucky chance, I opened another side of my misfortunes. No smoke without fire. And this case was no exception. The school's head TEACHER. Was not her personal life. Her husband, former student, has not justified hopes. Squabbles, disharmony. And then something happened, and he died. Left a son. She is in the 9th grade. And also rejoice especially not what. And no wonder - the nature of his strong-willed mother, as the rink, whatever it turns. The disciples, too, can't stand. After all, she is aggressive, hracholuska (in the sense of yells not the case), and, sometimes, to mush pretends to be good-natured, representing just bookstore example of jet formation.

And we have, in General, be the beginning of the problems. To me she was always sickly sweet. But, however, it is annoying that to me at recess were children so that in the study had no air, on holidays they confessed their love, gave chocolates, every corner was told that I'm their favorite teacher. 't tolerate that, with rare exception, in conflict situations I took the side of children, negotiate even with the police. And her husband, I am proud of, and of the son, I love the word happy. And the last straw was my refusal to take her for the biscuits.

So she started to wash out the soil from under my feet. And then, and I was in the eyes of the Director of an incompetent: not reveal to the teachers ' Council «Motivation of educational activity of educational activity of teachers and parents, it shall recommend weak pupils challenges (it turns out these tasks, we can offer only a gifted), find the anxiety of the child with deviant behavior is also impossible phenomenon, it is simply not get dressed accordingly taste administration.