On the Outside

The terms "liberal and conservative" have been tossed around for so long that neither has much appeal.  "Liberals" are associated with socialistic policies, and loosely held moral standards.  The conservative aspect is often seen as aligned with elitism, bigotry and hate.  Neither of these characterizations are complete or entirely accurate.

They do, however, make it easy for the average person to "pick a side".  "Side-picking" is what it is all about, isn't it?

The reality is that people are busy.  They don't have the time to delve deeply into issues and policies, even though they are directly or indirectly affected.  Hence, the need for simplistic characterizations, such as, liberal and conservative.

Recently, the passage of RFRA, in the state of Indiana, created a massive stir.  Huge names in business, politics, and entertainment pushed back hard on this "conservative" policy.  Governor Pence and Indiana's state legislative bodies, in the end, were forced to modify RFRA.

Conservatives lead with cries for religious freedom, while liberals countered with the need for anti-discrimination protections for LBGT persons.  Pressure was applied and conservatives gave ground.

At heart, both sides simply want respect. People of faith want to live their faith in accordance with their beliefs.  LGBT people want to be viewed as equals and treated fairly at work, at play, and at worship.

Last night, I attended a Town Hall event intended to clarify RFRA and continue to mobilize LGBT citizens to participate in their government. As I looked around the room, I saw and heard many intelligent people express their desire and hope for equity in all aspects of their lives.

I also discovered my injuries and personal pain from years of living a less than authentic life. Then, I multiplied my pain by thousands.  I discovered the exponential pain of the LGBT citizens of our world.  I wanted to run to the shadows, hidden from your view. I also wanted to stand up and be recognized.  Big things are really never simple.

As we legislate in our country, our states, and our communities, let's weigh the cost of any law in measure of the human pain it will procure.   Are the benefits grounded in equity?  Do the benefits outweigh the human cost?

Of course this is a much more difficult course to take.  It is far easier to continue to see ourselves as simply "liberals" and "conservatives" and make all of our decisions based on these shallow measures.

A Balance-Driven Life

I am old enough to remember the first time I watched TV at school.  It was a big deal.  Walter Cronkite was reporting the details of the Martin Luther King assassination.  The impact of his death and the magnitude of this event was initially dwarfed by my excitement.  Television was still relatively new and had never been a part of our learning process. I was just a kid.

That weekend, I had a cold and was bound to the couch.  I watched Martin Luther King's funeral live on a a little 12 inch black and white TV.  This time, the significance of his death became real to me. Masses of people were grieving. I was moved. For the first time, I cried for someone I did not know and would never know.  The television allowed me to participate, to be touched by this man and to discover, firsthand, the beginnings of an amazing legacy. 

The year that King died, there were three TV channels.  Our family watched television together, after dinner.  When my parents were young,  their families would gather each evening around the radio.  

Media was a family event.  What was heard and seen was discussed at dinner tables and among family and friends.

Playboy magazine was behind the counter at the drugstore and covered in brown paper.  Of course, I wanted to peek, but couldn't.  Today, the Internet is a window not only to a wealth of information, but also a portal to any image or sound imaginable.

I am a proponent of change. I am a supporter of a technology-infused curriculum.  TV had a big impact on my life as a learner. Today, computers and devices of all types are providing innovative and creative opportunities for students and teachers.

Still, I am not quite comfortable in this high speed, high tech, device-driven life. I wonder about the ramifications of too much connectedness, too much information, too much of the time. I wonder if I can set the limits that children need to feel safe in such a complex world.

What if?

What if we slept side-by-side with the families of war torn nations?   What if we became a part of their lives?  What if we helped them to rebuild their homes, their towns, their cities ?  What if we asked for nothing in return.

What if we stopped working on our own privileged lives and focused on those in need. What if we all did this? What if we carried no weapons, but instead, risked our lives by leading with trust?

Some of us would surely die. But, we are dying now.  

We are afraid and we are killing.  They are afraid and they are killing. We are angry and we are killing.  They are angry and they are killing.

What if we started with our own country, first?  What if the rest of the world watched us as our problems dissolved?  

Could we start a war of healing?  A war comprised of a wave of human compassion so large that it became a tsunami of comfort, love, and support.

What if we stopped everything we are currently doing?  We joined each other in the center of each of our towns and cities.  We found all of the people who are suffering amongst us and responded with love.  What if we gave of ourselves?

My heart is layered in sadness.  There is no comfort.  I know that I am living better and with greater ease than many of you.  Yet, I am frightened to change.  I am frightened to reach out to those who need.  I need others beside me.  I need you to change with me.  

Mean Teachers and Other Scary Stuff

On Thursday, I had a panic attack the size of George W. Bush's brain.  Oh, whoops...no, this was a REALLY BIG panic attack!!! It was more like the size of say...oh, Obama's magnificence!   :o)

I have tried to make friends with panic, but she is so large and pushy that I have a hard time giving her space in my life.  What I have learned to do over the years is to allow for her.  She is going to come when she feels like it.  I don't have a say in the matter.  I bend to her, because I have no other choice.  She owns me.  She dwarfs me. She runs through my mind and body like a jet on steroids.

Panic is a like a mean teacher.  She punishes me and provides absolutely no direction.  She is a puzzling witch with a big wart on her chin. She is darkness and all have is a wet match.

She is a beast.

My body is wired to panic. I truly believe this.  I imagine panic to be sort of an emotional seizure. My mind and body are saturated with fear and my only tool is surrender. I drip vulnerability.  She humbles me.

When I was young, panic ran my life.  I gave her all of my power.  Now, we live in begrudging harmony, and she rarely visits anymore.  

For all of her apparent ugliness, she has taught me much.

Surrender. Humility. Vulnerability.

Each day, as I approach my classroom, I think of her.  I remind myself that my students face their own beasts.  That they too have and will have enormous inner struggles that will dwarf them and leave them limp.

Education and Business: Enemies or Bedfellows?

Education has focused a lot of energy on pedagogy, as well as, assessment of student and educator outcomes. Technology has also provided educators an opportunity to increase student engagement and to enhance instruction. There is no doubt that this focus has improved performance for some, and created a more student-focused classroom for many.

However, the path forward needs to take a broader view.  This view requires that business, education and government work together to create ground-breaking changes.  These changes will require huge shifts for all involved.  It's time.

Historically, business has asked that education produce certain types of workers.  Since, the globalization of the marketplace, business need has driven education to produce more white collar workers. The reality is that not all people are wired to be white collar workers.  Not all people want to be white collar workers.  

Big business drives our economy, and in turn, the job market for our workforce. The fact that skilled labor has shifted overseas from American soil is not a new revelation.  However, it is having a deleterious affect on the American worker.  Education in America is forced to respond to the desires of the corporate sector, instead of responding to the diversity among American students and the broader populace.

It is time for big business to listen to education.  We need to continue to be the innovators of the world, as well as, becoming(once again) the leading producers in the world.  Yes, big business will have to pay American workers more money than workers overseas.  Honestly,  is a 3 trillion dollar annual profit rather than an 6 trillion dollar annual profit really a hardship for corporate America? Yes, I am just throwing out numbers, but you get my point.  Half of a whole lot is still a whole lot.

Capitalism is a great start up economic system.  However, it encourages greed, overly-competitive, and selfish behavior.  These are the models that our children see.  Yes, education needs to continue to change and improve.  Assessment isn't a bad thing, but assessment should fit student goals and capacities...not business goals focused on building an America that provides for an elite few.

We are the greatest country in the world.  Let's lead the way in humanism.  Let's define a business model that makes America great again.  Education will be happy to help!

A Letter To Parents

Growth is a jagged line. Nothing, in nature, grows in a precise manner all of the time.  Between birth and death a human being changes incessantly.  Images capture the visible changes.  Underneath the skin, change is even more rapid and complex.

As students enter our classrooms this year, we will observe their visible changes. Some students will have grown taller, or heavier.  Their skin and hair may be different.  Perhaps they are wearing new clothes or new shoes.  New binders, tablets, and phones may emerge from pockets or back packs.  

Concurrently, we will take in social and emotional impressions. We will identify which students are open and talkative.  We will look for eye contact and conversation between and among peers. We will notice the students who place their heads upon the desk, curling inward or away from their peers, school, or us.

These observations happen prior to the beginning of each class and continue every day.  We seek to connect with the person within, while trying to increase each student's skill level. Cognizant that students enter our room with varying aptitudes, different backgrounds, cultures, and socio-economic experiences. 

Sometimes we fail.  More often we provide students with sound opportunities to grow intellectually, socially, and emotionally.  We are your children's teachers. We are a team.  We have the same goal.  We want your children to succeed and most of all, to be happy.

The Egg Lady

When I was about eight years old, a particular Amish woman (aka "the egg lady") came to our neighborhood once a week with (of all things) fresh eggs.  My mother and the other suburban housewives would buy eggs and chat with her for a few moments. I remember watching this transaction from a distance. The egg lady's demeanor was polite enough, but she seemed unhappy to me. I remember wondering what she must feel like, driving her station wagon around town selling eggs.  It seemed lonely.  She was different.

As the daughter in a Midwestern Presbyterian family, I suppose it is not surprising that I managed to confuse the Amish with the Mormons.  I thought the Amish WERE the Mormons.  Sort of like Jack is sometimes referred to as John, or Julia can be called Julie.

Since I was confused about the identity of these two groups, I assumed that the "egg lady" was in a bad mood because her husband had other wives.  She was probably the one who got the lousy job of delivering the eggs while the other wives were at home eating cookies, drinking tea, and laughing.  

Luckily,  as I have grown older, I have become more informed about religion.  I no longer think that the "egg lady" is a polygamist, or for that matter, that the Mormons down the street are "getting it on" with multiple spouses.  

When I am hurt and angry about other peoples, less than knowledgeable, views on issues that matter to me. I remind myself of my own childish ignorance. It may seem funny...now.  But, I know that my ignorance, as a child, could easily have been interpreted as insensitivity, or even bigotry.  

Words Matter

Words matter. They really do.  Our reality is shaped, at least in part, by the words we use. Sports psychologists are well aware of the impact of words on the performance of an athlete. Anxiety begins with negative self-talk intertwined with negative mental images. These words and images have the potential to cripple the performance of the most gifted athlete.  I know, I was one of those athletes.

Athletes aren't the only people affected by the power of words.  Words have universal influence. They effect all people.  They transcend culture, race, sexual orientation, religion, age, gender, and disability. Words matter.  Words are powerful.

Each generation modifies the language of prior generations. This past year, I have heard the use of the words kill, dead, death, shoot, die with increasing frequency, and in a variety of contexts. Most often, I hear these words from children and the media.

Yesterday, my son and his friend were playing Minecraft.  His friend kept saying, "Kill him! Kill him!" (I am sure there must have been some "googlies" lurking about). A few minutes later, I heard my son say the same words to his friend.

I asked the boys to have a chat with me.  I told them that it is hard for me to listen to them say "Kill him!"  I explained that killing results in death and that death is permanent.  My son rolled his eyes at me and said, "It is JUST a video game."   "I know, I know,"  I replied.  "But, it would be more accurate to say "Defeat him!  Since, the creeper will not really die, but spawn again."  The boys looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and said, "Ok!"

For the remainder of their screen time, I reminded them, a couple of times, to switch from the word "kill" to the word "defeat".  They seemed to accept this modification to their language with little concern.  As a parent and an educator, I don't have to accept what the media generates and what our children and students repeat.  I  have a voice and a conscience.  Words matter. They really do.

The Practice of Love

I am passionate about love.  Not because I am an undiscovered Dali or MT (Mother Theresa), but because I am definitely NOT.

In my 40's I joined a meditation group.  At the beginning of each session, the leader asked the group to think of something that evoked the feeling of love. Something that made each of us FEEL love....a baby, an athletic team, a spouse or partner...anything.  I couldn't.  Nothing came. My heart felt nothing. My self-esteem took a plunge.

That was almost 16 years ago.  Today, feeling love is a central part of my day and my life.  Love is my compass.  Growing love is not unlike growing corn, tomatoes, or a student.  It takes time, commitment, and practice to get the outcome you want.

Many people are confused about the nature of love.  Love is not the same as desire or attraction. Scott Peck, does an outstanding job of explaining the difference between love and desire in his book, The Road Less Travelled. For a beginner, it is actually easier to discern what love IS NOT, than it is to discern what love IS.

On a pragmatic level, choices that are motivated by love tend to have better outcomes than choices driven solely by attraction or desire.  Attraction and desire are certainly a part of the mix...but their essence is not love.

As an educator, I often wonder why teaching love is primarily reserved for families and churches.  Love is a feeling and a practice. Love is a compass that can guide the most important life decisions.  My question is, does developing a student's practice of love conflict with a student's religious practice or, do these practices simply compliment one another? What do you think?

Sculpting a Life

One of the benefits of of following your heart is becoming better acquainted with who you are. This weekend, I followed my heart to Ft. Myers Beach to compete in an amateur sand sculpting competition. On Saturday, I awoke early, left my aging parents in slumber, chugged some coffee, and drove in my economy rental car to the nearest Lowes. There, I purchased a spade, a bucket, and plastic spatulas.  With tools in tow, I headed for the beach.

It was barely 8 am, the sun had risen, and the temperatures were already warm.   As I looked out at the expansive ocean, the remaining tension seeped from my body into the hard sand beneath my feet. 

Though the morning started with joy and phenomenal peace, anxiety quickly crept into my psyche as sand clumped with shells proved difficult to form and shape.  Saturday was practice day, I thought to myself.  What if I couldn't make the sand work...tomorrow was the competition, I would surely embarrass myself in front of all of the much more experienced and more talented sculptors. What if...? What if..? What if...? My mind raced with self-doubt.

One of the great aspects of aging is that anxiety gives way to self-assurance far more quickly than when I was younger. After several failed attempts with the sand, I decided to stop practicing, enjoy the day and hope for better sand, tomorrow, at the site of the competition.   

Sunday morning I was a bundle of nervous energy.  Having never entered a competition, I arrived early to ensure I had time to register and to take a look around. The master sculptors were hard at work, building magnificent, creative sand scenes.  Luckily, my sand area was much smaller and filled with a mere metric ton of sand that I would be moving and shaping. The solo masters are required to work with 10 tons of sand.  This physical element of the competition has led many sculptors to suggest that this medium is a sport, as well as, an art form. My muscles agree!

Today, as I fly home to Indiana. My attitude is brighter, more confident, and at peace.  This weekend, I challenged myself to follow a personal dream. Tomorrow, as I talk about and show pictures of my adventure to my students, I hope that in some small way I will inspire each of them to step inside their hearts and listen for the subtle guidance that will lead them to their dreams.

A Heart's Journey

Over the course of a lifetime dreams ebb and flow.  Some never become more than quiet murmurings.  Others take subtle root in our minds and hearts and germinate beneath the surface.

Twenty-five years have passed since my first experience sculpting sand.  This weekend, I will reconnect with this passion as I attempt to make sand and water resemble a manatee mother and her calf.

Risking to follow my heart's journey is more important than any class that I have taken or grade that I have received.  My hope is, that by following my own dream,  I will encourage each of my student's to look inward and then follow their own heart's journey.

Breaking Ground with Dory the Fish and Richard Fuller

“You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete.” 

Richard Buckminster Fuller

Great thinkers challenge us to do great things.  

It is easy to complain about the the status quo.  Certainly, part of the process of change is to become aware that the current state is not the desired state.  Fuller's quote, above, resonated with me.  His words called me to focus my mind and my intent more on building solutions, and focus less on identifying problems.  

Solution-building, after all, is the real work of change.  

Over the next several weeks, I will be exploring how to use my classroom as a model for educational change.  As my plan develops, I will share it here, with you.  

In the meantime, I expect I will continue to follow the words of Dory the fish, from Finding Nemo...

..."Just keep swimming!"