Burnout is colonial

It's official - I am burnt out (you can see my cute little burnt out face above).  My current cognitive and physical state might be best described through imagery: an empty shell, the charred remains of an incinerated home, a tether that has been frayed to its' very last thread.  This goes beyond "low batteries" or a generalized weariness.  I feel entirely sapped.   

According to burnout research, most of you have probably experienced it too.  I think you might know the feeling, that feeling where you're perpetually exhausted in a way that feels like a diabolical combination of hangover and jet lag, with none of the fun of travel or a night out.  You stare at your computer screen for long periods of time without mustering the capacity for a coherent thought.  The organization you work for might be structured in such a way where, as your career progresses, you eventually become *the only* -- the only one who is aware of or capable of performing the unique functions associated with your role (higher ed is particularly guilty of this, in our siloed, hierarchical, discipline-driven institutions).  You think your exhaustion might be remedied by some time off, but quickly learn that the marathon of effort that's required to prepare to leave for (and return from) vacation is hardly worth it, because there's more work when you come back than there was when you left.  You find yourself both overwhelmed and underwhelmed; simultaneously drowning and parched.  

Burnout is one of those terms that we've all heard but may struggle to define.  Those in the discipline of psychology claim that burnout is "the direct effect of chronic... work-related interpersonal stress. The measurements used in research about burnout focus on... three dimensions: exhaustion (tiredness, loss of motivation, feeling worn out or weak), cynicism/dehumanization (no patience for others, social withdrawal, loss of idealism/purpose/motivation), and inefficiency (making more mistakes, less productive, poor adaptation to stress, low morale" (Medina-Pineda, n.d.).  In other words, tackling inhuman amounts of work in sub-optimal conditions results in debilitating fatigue and apathy.  For people like me, this is compounded by chronic illness and complex life circumstances.  

In the past I have steadfastly refused to acknowledge that I might be susceptible to burnout.  I believed that it could not possibly happen to me.  I have behaved as if it were a point of pride that I am a well-trained colonial workhorse that can withstand whatever challenge is chucked my way; I have bought in to the notion that it is my job to suck it up and deal with the struggle silently.    

Now, I find that in addition to burnt out I am also irritated.  I'm irritated because, as I alluded to above, burnout is often portrayed as somehow being an individual flaw when in fact it is a collective product of the colonial norms related to "work" that in turn serve the aims of capitalism (Kell, 2021).  The ethos that perpetuates burnout is one of ambition and profit, work hard and play hard.  Burnout, then, is the visceral sensation associated with being defeated by an overarching system that was not designed to support you, but rather to squeeze you for maximum productivity.  

There is no doubt that I've been harmed by this insidious dynamic.  However, I've recently recognized that in this moment of struggle, my attention has been only focused on myself.  I have internalized the experience of burnout and I have been thinking about it as something that solely impacts me--a classic white settler move towards victimhood.  In reality it is so much bigger than me or any individual person, particularly with respect to how the road to burnout reinforces patterns of colonial harm.  

We (white settlers, particularly) ought to be engaging in a more nuanced imaginary with respect to how burnout is experienced by people who have historically been marginalized or excluded from the systems where they work.  Intersectional burnout is white settler burnout exacerbated by intergenerational trauma, racism, homophobia, sexism, socio-economic disempowerment, and violation of basic human rights.  This intrinsically limits the way a person who experiences intersectionality "copes" with burnout, and determines whether or not coping is even possible.  

Our collective experience of burnout calls for a collective effort in response.  How can we act in ways that both address individual burnout when it occurs AND go further to interrogate and interrupt the systemic (eg/ societal and organizational) causes of burnout?   How do we offer ourselves grace in moments of burnout while still activating resistance?   We owe our kids, our ancestors, and future generations a way out of the burnout cycle.