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.

Bridging Our Differences

What happens inside the classroom can profoundly effect the lives of students outside of the classroom.  Like parents, teachers are models and exemplars.  The complexity of this role can feel daunting.

When students enter our classrooms, they bring with them different cultures, languages, religions, and socio-economic backgrounds. They possess a variety of learning styles, cognitive, and social-emotional skills.  Their families are comprised of parents, step-parents, adoptive parents, siblings, cousins, friends, and guardians.  Some students have been abused, neglected, over-indulged, entitled, criticized, adored, and violated.

As teachers, we have to consider the similarities among our students and honor their differences. In the face of the diversity of our student population, this task can seem overwhelming.

It doesn't have to be. Here are a few tips.

• Be Inquisitive.  Lead as a learner. Be willing to ask questions, when you don't know the answer. 
• Select Instructional Content that reflects Diversity.  Look for content that expresses the diversity that exists in the world.  Use the content as a springboard for meaningful discussion that raises awareness and understanding of our differences.
• Emphasize Similarities. We are all human.  Our humanity connects us.  Everyone loves a good laugh, a friendly gesture, and compassion.
• Be Human.  Remember none of us is perfect. It is ok to make mistakes.
• Set Your "Shoes" Aside.  It is easy to get entrenched in our own perspectives, backgrounds, and beliefs.  Remember to step outside yourself and practice humility.

Diversity is a beautiful thing. If we were all the same life would be uninteresting.  We would be clones. We would have no motivation to learn about or from one another.  Above all else, dare to be you and allow others to be themselves.  If you do your classroom will be an engaging place where connection between others will ignite learning.

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.

What Lies Beyond the Village?

In 2010, we established new roots in the quaint Midwestern town of Carmel, IN. We selected our neighborhood because of the people, not the homes.  Our neighborhood is filled with families. There are scads of children and parents that are invested in the education and the lifestyle that this community provides.  When purchasing this home, we had already decided that our son would grow up here.

We wanted to recreate our childhood for Turner.  A childhood marked by stability and consistency.  A place where neighbors became friends and children grew.  We wanted a village of like-minded people. 

In the four years since we first settled in this community, Turner has encountered the loss of three families in close emotional and physical proximity to ours. These families contained a total of eight of Turner's good friends.  

Turner loves an entourage.  He is a classic example of an extrovert.  In his mind, "the more the merrier", is a way of life.  He is a peacekeeper, a scuffle settler and a communicator.  The losses that Turner has experienced has given the saying, "It takes a village..", new meaning in our lives.   

The truth?  The village is gone.  The neighborhood that Nicole and I knew as children, has been replaced by collections of families that mingle less and move more. Driven by money, career, bigger homes and opportunity, the village has become a relic of the past.

Ours is a strong and self-reliant family.  We know how to nurture one another and move through changes.  Turner has recovered quickly from his losses, but is mindful that loss is imminent.  At ten years of age he has experienced more loss than I did in twenty years.

I wonder about the impact of this shift on our world.  I wonder if our neighborhoods are less cohesive and if our bonds are more shallow.  I wonder if this makes our neighborhoods more like large cities where anonymity among neighbors is commonplace.

Turner's losses will not deter us from reaching across the street, but we will do so, knowing that all connections are temporal.  Sadly,  so will he.

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.  

Politics Inside the Classroom

In the classroom, I have always guarded my personal life.  I openly discuss my life with my son. Yet, I clearly keep my wife and our family stories out of the mix.

My students have many emotional challenges.  It has never seemed prudent to make my family a focus in the classroom.  From my perspective, the politics of adults should not interfere with the education of students.  

I still feel this way. 

Gay marriage will become the law of the land.  Of this, I am sure. Still, it is a contentious issue that has divided families, states, and countries.  It is never fun to be on the losing side.  Be sure, the right wing conservatives will be on the losing side of this issue. 

For the moment, I will relish our victories and our minor setbacks with those who can celebrate, comfort and support me.  My students will not be privy to my personal life.  It isn't their business.

I am a teacher.  I am proud to be a teacher....and I love my students.

Love Rules Fear

Fear is a natural state.  Fear causes the body to contract, temperature to rise, visual acuity to increase and a host of behavioral changes.  The more frightened an animal or a human becomes, the more obvious it is to any observer.  Fear can look really big.

Humans are fight or flight animals. The fight or flight response is great to have when a threat actually exists.  Without fear, we might behave really slowly and inappropriately, when faced with a car swerving toward us.  The fight or flight response is a great system to have in your back pocket when danger is imminent.

The problem with the fight or flight response, in humans, is that we tend to perceive danger where there is none.  Once we perceive that something is "dangerous" then our whole limbic system starts to amp up.  Once we are amped, fear can have a deleterious affect on our cognitive and decision-making processes.

There are an amazing array of phobias that illustrate this point.  Homophobia, or the fear of people who are attracted to members of the same sex, is one example.  This phobia causes the sufferer to avoid same-sex couples, to bully individuals, or to use the court system to suppress the rights of a minority of people who are oriented to love and form families with members of the same sex.

Fear is a powerful and natural state.  Fear is designed to protect the individual from imminent danger or harm.  However, when the fight or flight response is engaged when there is no actual danger the reaction becomes dysfunctional.  In the case of homophobia, exposure to the feared person or group will ultimately extinguish it.  In the meantime, patience and love is required. We need to support the phobia sufferer and move forward in the face of their irrational fear, until love is triumphant.

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?

The Heart of a Child

The most powerful and meaningful learning begins in the human heart.  It is our relationships with others that serve as the catalyst for these lessons. Yet, we leave the development of this critical domain almost entirely out of our schools.  We create rules to enforce suppression of behaviors, but do not teach students how to manage difficult emotions. We leave these lessons to the family and the church. In many instances, the family and the church are not adept at guiding young people in this area of human development.

Lessons of the heart are not as complicated as they may seem.  It is the lack of understanding and practice that make this domain so challenging.  Mostly, young people need to develop strategies for honoring and expressing their feelings in the right place, with the right people, and at the right time.  If schools begin these lessons early on, students will develop methods for managing their feelings and a tolerance for the most difficult of human emotions: fear, anger and pain.

It follows that if our students develop these skills at a young age and then continue to hone them, they will be less likely to turn to food, alcohol, violence, and self-harm to cope with the impact of these emotions.  They will be more likely to employ strategies that enable them to live harmoniously with their emotional selves and harness the power of their hearts.

Next Blog: Skill 1:  Awareness

The 21st Century School: Think Tank and Research and Development Organizations

Yesterday, I asked my 9 year old son (Turner) how he felt about his performance on the state-mandated assessment he had taken that day.   I felt relieved, of course, when he told me..."it was easy...just the same stuff we've already learned".

Turner is a case study of a kid who likes going to school.  Primary education can work for students who are comfortable with a social learning model.  I am concerned, however,  about his motivation as he reaches the middle school years.

These years comprise huge developmental changes for children across physical, cognitive, social, and emotional domains. They are "experienced".  They know what school is like.  A continuation of "more of the same" wears thin for these students. Instead, infusing the curriculum with a variety of pedagogical approaches centered upon problem-based learning, has the potential to re-engage the middle years student in the process of learning. Perhaps, to even ignite their love of learning.

In many ways, secondary students are ready to become a part of defining solutions to our world problems.  They are old enough to know that the world is not the illusion that we presented to them during their primary years. The illusion that we can protect them and shelter them from the problems that generations of world citizens have created.

Today, more than ever, students are savvy in ways that preceding generations were not.  They are both innocent and wise. Child-like and worn. They have glimpsed the real world and they know that there is much to do.

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.

From Dream to Reality: A Professional Development Exercise

It is 5:17 am on Tuesday morning.  I am on vacation.  I can't sleep. Why?  Because I am now worrying about the amateur sand sculpting competition that I am participating in on November 22nd.  Grrrrrrrrrrr!  

Dreams are much MORE fun when they are simply dreams. As a risk-taker, my first obstacle is always myself. Once I commit myself, and start to take steps toward my dream, fear kicks in.  Fear of looking silly.  Fear of being judged. Fear of failure. With 55 years of experience you would think I would be at ease with risk-taking. The truth is, the more important something is to me, the more I sweat it. 

In the end, I know that I won't allow myself to be paralyzed by my fear.  I know that once I design the sculpture, practice in clay or some other medium, and show up on the sand, my love for this hobby will kick in.  I will begin to relax and sink in to that place inside of me where hand, heart, and creative spirit meet.  

Risk-taking connects me more deeply to myself and in turn, to all people. It tears away at my walls and reminds me of my humanness.  It puts me squarely in the role of learner.  As a teacher, I can't imagine a more powerful exercise.  

Finding Passion in School? Really?!?

Yesterday's post was all about me.  My artistic pursuits.  My connection to sand and soul when immersed in this art form.  Except that it wasn't all about me.  It was about each of us.  It was about our children, their lives, and their educational experiences.

When exploring my passion, I begin to see the world through an entirely different lens.  There is no negativity, no limits.  I begin to rely more on my gut and less on facts and reason.  Surely, all of us need a blend of both.  

In the world of schools, students never encounter a course called, "Finding my Passion".  We leave that exploration to the family and in many cases, to chance.  But, wouldn't the world be a better place, if we helped students to consciously find and cultivate their passions? 

Analysis, data, and evidence dominate the teaching and learning culture.  Of course, all of these skills are important and need to be developed.  But, couldn't we also give 10% of the school day to a curriculum that helps students to explore the activities that excite and delight them?

Thank You, Sensei

I have not lived purposefully.  Instead, my life has been a patchwork of connected experiences. Truthfully, I have never had the confidence to make and carry out a long-term plan. Instead, I have made short-term, often reactive decisions.

Decisions like, "WOW! Now there is a REAL HOTTIE!"  Or, "YES! I wanna go to the beach!"  Or, "Definitely, I want to go back to school!"  

That was a bit of levity.

Over the past couple of years, I have had the opportunity to get to know someone who has a very different approach to her life.  She is purposeful.  She is decisive. She eliminates obstacles and keeps her focus squarely on her family and work goals.

Needless to say, she has my deep admiration.  

My relationship with this 34 year old woman, coupled with aging, has caused me to reflect on my approach to my life.  At 55, my attitude has shifted from, there is plenty of time to do what I want, to, I need to make the MOST of the time I have left.  

In my 30's, I discovered a passion and a talent for sand-sculpting.  Like many sand artists, this interest emerged via beach vacation.  After several sculpting vacations, I discovered that this passion took me to places within myself that I simply could not evoke in any other way. I connect with an indescribable peace and humility.  I become keenly aware that as transient is the art, so are all things. 

What I have recognized, is that I have undervalued my skills, and my passions.  I have chosen to take the safe route and have not risked to gain the rewards that come from facing who I am and committing to my personal desires and goals.

Today, that is changing...today, I am making a public commitment to myself to pursue this dream...wherever it takes me.  

And today, I bow to my unwitting Sensei. Thank you for the lesson.  You will always have my deepest, most heartfelt gratitude.  You know who you are.