Monsoon Semester 11: Filling Your Own Cup English This episode includes a short section about responding to a loss on campus. If it touches something in your own life, support details are below this video. November. The rains have stopped. The messages haven't. Eleven o'clock. The night shift begins. Ananya. Of course. Ten o'clock tomorrow. Cold. Of course. Aiyo, Joel. Eleven fifty-nine? Naturally. When did I last take a weekend off? August. Cutting, please. I only have ten minutes. Ma'am, you were in your office on Sunday. So were you. I was hiding from my inbox. You were answering yours. Ma'am... can I tell you something? I'm scared now. Of saying the wrong thing. Of enforcing any rule at all. A student copied an assignment last week. I just... let it go. So now you say nothing. It feels safer. Room for one more tired person? Always. One more, please. Arjun's afraid to say anything. And I answer everything. Opposite habits. Same problem. You both think you're alone with it. Arjun, no single moment causes a crisis. Not one sentence, not one rule. Say the rule kindly, in private. Follow the process. And don't do it alone. Kamala, if you're the only one a student can reach, what happens the night you don't pick up? I always pick up. I know. That's what worries me. A bridge connects two banks, but it can't hold the whole river. Boundaries protect students too. Your job is to connect them. Not to carry them. What if we didn't do it alone? A few of us, once a month. We talk through the hard cases. A faculty circle. Six people. Situations, not names. I'll come to the first one. I'll bring biscuits. And your phone? Switched off. ...Mostly. So. Who goes first? Fine, me. A student cried, and I panicked. I explained the grading scheme. For ten minutes. You stayed. That counts. Next time, ask how she is, and listen. Farah, what should we do if the campus loses someone? A student, or a colleague? We slow down. And we do a few simple things. Share only the facts that are confirmed. Don't speculate about causes. Make room for grief. Allow extensions. Check on students who may be vulnerable. And get support for yourself. Teachers grieve too. Some years ago, I saw a counsellor myself. It helped. I'm glad I went. You never told me that, ma'am. You never asked. Running on empty, like Kamala, isn't unusual. A review of studies found that university teachers burn out at rates similar to schoolteachers and health workers. In a 2021 survey of faculty in the United States, more than one in five said supporting students had harmed their own mental health. Caring isn't the problem. Carrying it on your own is. The good news: trials show that training in self-compassion reduces stress and depression. Self-compassion means speaking to yourself the way you'd speak to a struggling student. A counsellor. A circle of colleagues. A phone that's allowed to be off. None of it means caring less. Six o'clock. Look at that. One chai, please. Full. Not cutting. Ma'am? On a Saturday? With a novel? With a novel. What's that? Farah's homework. Two names. The people I'll call when something feels too big. You're one of them. I'm telling you officially. And the other? Ritu. Farah says I'm not allowed to pick only you. Then mine are Ritu... and you. Bechari Ritu. Arjun. I don't have to carry this alone. And neither do you. Try this week: name two colleagues you'll call when a student's situation feels too big, and tell them. And here is a phrase to keep. I don't have to carry this alone, and neither do you. Support details and sources are below this video. See you in week twelve.