Entrepreneurial micro-business or ELT Deliveroo?
In my working life, I inhabit a number of different worlds.
There’s the general ELT world I mingle with at conferences,
events and online that includes teachers, teacher trainers, publishing folk,
academics and other freelancers. We talk about teaching, methodology,
technology, language and yes, occasionally, the state of ELT.
Then there’s the ELT writing crowd, other freelance writers and editors who congregate face-to-face and online via groups like MaWSIG and
ELT Freelancers, as well as through various Facebook groups. Like most colleagues,
we largely enjoy a good moan … about our latest hassles and project nightmares,
about the stresses of being a freelancer subject to the whims of the publishing
industry and inevitably, about how things ‘ain’t like they used to be’. They
are, however, also a very supportive bunch, always happy to offer
encouragement, practical advice and, most importantly, a good laugh. And at
times, it can be pretty inspiring to see the varied and exciting things we all
get up to.
I also occasionally dip a toe into the world of local
networking groups full of (largely female) entrepreneurs and small business
owners who seem to spend a lot of time and energy (and money!) on branding and
marketing and business plans and coaching and serious networking … the idea of
an ‘elevator pitch’ or asking for ‘referrals’ at an ELT event would make most folk
run a mile, but for these ladies, it’s all an essential part of the game. If
that sounds a touch ‘sniffy’, it really isn’t meant to be. I don’t quite feel
part of the ‘networking gang’ largely because my work doesn’t really fit their
model. Most of them are customer-facing businesses (fitness instructors,
therapists, consultants of some kind) who need to create a brand and market it
to members of the public (and each other!). Some are small businesses with staff and premises and
physical products to sell. And whilst a lot of the chat in these circles
doesn’t really apply to me and my context, I do still meet some interesting
people and I often pick up ideas that are tangentially useful or that I can
adapt to be relevant.
How I see myself professionally varies enormously depending
on who I’ve been hanging out with and how work’s going at any one time. I don’t
quite feel like I’m a small business or an entrepreneur, but after a
particularly inspiring networking event or talk, I err towards the idea of
being a successful, funky little micro-business. After a successful talk at an
ELT conference, discussing language and pedagogy with all kinds of different
people, I can see myself as a budding ‘expert’ in my field with things to say
and stuff to contribute. A lot of the time though, I’m just a slightly
frustrated and disillusioned hack writer churning out ‘content’ in
less-than-ideal conditions and barely scraping together a living (for the
record, I earn considerably less than the average UK salary and my average
yearly income has barely risen over 20 years of freelancing).
Earlier this week, a radio programme – the Digital Human on Radio 4 – made me stop and think again about work and my relationship with it.
The programme explored how, as a society, we’ve become intent on finding ways to
use technology to make our lives easier, more ‘frictionless’. It asked where
all the time we’ve supposedly saved goes and it looked into how our work and
home lives have increasingly merged, especially those of us involved in the gig
economy. One anecdote from anthropologist, Jan English-Lueck really struck a
chord with me:
“I remember talking to a woman who had a really bad problem
with carpal tunnel and she’d given up camping, she’d given up reading books,
she’d given up everything. And she held up her hands and said ‘I save these for
my workplace’.”
As many of you will know, I’ve been managing a chronic pain
condition for nearly 20 years now. I’ve given up many things over the years,
but in the past few months, my pains have been particularly troublesome and
I’ve found myself giving up driving, giving up going to events that involve
lots of standing around or sitting in one place (cinema, gigs, theatre) and
increasingly, opting out of social events because at the end of the day, I’m so
shattered, I just want to collapse into a fug of painkillers. Am I saving what
strength and ability I have for work at the expense of other things in my life?
Probably. Because I need to work to earn money and pay the bills, and as a
freelancer, my income is unstable, I can’t afford to turn down work or miss
deadlines, I don’t get sick pay or paid holidays.
The programme got me wondering whether I’m really an
entrepreneurial micro-business with the freedom to choose what I work on and
to fit my working hours around other things or whether it’s all just a kind of ELT
Deliveroo without the perks of the reflective jacket?
I really don’t know the answer and I’ve flipped between the
two poles – and all points in-between – just in the course of writing this post. What’s your relationship with your working
life? Do you see yourself as a business, a creative entrepreneur, an expert, as
a gun for hire, a hack writer or a harmless drudge?
Labels: freelancing, materials writing, networking, RSI