Building a Wall of Love

The title seems idealistic...even to me. Yet, no other stance seems plausible.  We cannot become like "them".  Whoever "they" are.... in a given moment.  Perpetuating fear, anger, and pain will only create more of the same.  To be clear, I am not suggesting that we are not and will not feel these emotions.  I am and I do, and I am certain that you are and that you do.   We are human.

I am suggesting, however, that we cannot let fear, anger, and pain drive us.  Even now.  Especially now.  We cannot build walls that are cemented with these emotions.  These types of walls will only degrade us and those who stand on the other side of them.  They will weather and crumble, as they are not constituted of a material that will unite and bond us to one another.

Love is the most durable essence.  It is difficult to describe it. But, we each know it when we encounter it or offer it.

I do not believe this is an #LGBTQ issue.  Many of you may disagree.  I believe this issue is far broader and deeper.  #Terrorism has touched people of all colors and types. We have not been "singled out".  We are simply the latest fatality.

Over the coming days and weeks, we will grieve for #orlando.  We will mourn the lives that have been lost and will seek to comfort those who remain.  Those left behind must begin the arduous task of recovering from the brutality that has touched their families and their community.

From afar, we can continue to solve this global crisis by standing together in love.  The greatest leaders of human change have taken this path.  Let's continue their work of building a wall comprised of love. Ultimately, it is the only element that can truly transform our 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.

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.

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.  

Closets are for Clothes

It is much more comfortable to live outside of the closet.  First of all, there is absolutely no room in a closet. The lighting is terrible and it is an awful location for a party. On the other hand, it has always been a sorta safe place. A place where hate, opinions, and antiquated laws seemed to drift into oblivion.

Love doesn't fit well into closets.  Love is large and expansive.  Shame and fear are well-suited for small places.  Closets are for clothes.  In America, some people's closets are bigger than other people's homes. That, however, is fodder for another blog.

On Friday,  I boldly slammed the door on my personal closet of shame and fear.  Since Nicole and I were married on Wednesday (in the expansive state of Indiana), I decided to contact the HR rep for my school and add Nicole to my health insurance policy. As I pressed the send button on this email, my sweat glands engaged and I choked a bit.  This contracting emotion was quickly followed by joy.  Some things are worth the fear of losing a job.  Loving Nicole is one of those things.

There will be a massive celebration when fear makes way for love.  Following love is the only way we can create a world without violence, or hate, or war. Following love is the only way to heal.  Following love is the only way to set aside our need to control and allow ourselves to be consumed by faith and trust.

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

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.

Promoting a Compassionate Classroom

"If love connects us with others, personality must certainly be the mechanism through which love is perceived and understood." 

Julie Meyers, 2013

As an educator of seven different middle school students, misunderstandings between and among us occur with regularity.  The MBTI (Myers Briggs Personality Type) has documented 16 personality types. Each personality type has discrete preferences for interacting with and perceiving the world.   

In elementary, middle, and even high school, differences among people, are rarely approached from a scholarly perspective.  Most often, students are told that we are all different and that we need to learn to get along with others.  The behavior of "not getting along" is then redirected, referred, or disciplined.

As an educator, helping students to become cognizant of the variety of personality types in the world, may help to promote a more compassionate learning environment.  In the coming week, I will be informing my students about personality type.  They will  participate in an age-appropriate version of the MBTI.  Then, we will discuss how similarities and divergence among personality types affects communication, understanding, and learning.

To optimize student learning, my belief is, that the classroom environment needs to be infused with love, compassion, and understanding.  Raising student awareness regarding personality differences and learning styles is one step toward improving student performance.

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?

A Childs Place

Yesterday, at soccer practice, I listened to a 9 year old boy recite his resume....his grades, his position in his class, his test scores, etc.  He paused and waited intently after each accomplishment to hear my response. Instead of lauding praise on this young lad, I asked him, "How do you feel about your (grades/class rank/test scores)?"  He looked at me with a confused expression and responded, "My Mom is happy, she wants me to get into a good college!"

This morning, a thunderstorm awakened me and I felt the desire to huddle deeper into the bed covers. With the window open, the smell of dampness caressed my nose. The slaps of thunder and flashes of lightening made rooting in cotton sheets and down even more desirable.

As I scurried about the house, kissed my family as they slept, and drove in the rain to work, I wondered if the 9 year old soccer player, I had spoken to yesterday, enjoyed the thunderstorm as much as I had.  Or, I wondered, was his mind already focused on his next important task?

"What Kind of Human am I?"

"What kind of human am I?" Turner asked.

Uhhhhh...quick, quick...right answer....uhhhhh, "A boy?" I responded with an upward lilt to my voice.

 "No.  I mean, am I a Native American!?" he stated with emphasis.  Driving down the road,  this is when I stop craning my neck to get a good look at my 9 year old son.

My son will break hearts one day.  He will break my heart!!! He is a beautiful blond-haired, fair-skinned, lanky young boy.  So, with a giggle and smile quickly squelched, I peer at him with mustered seriousness, in the rearview mirror, and respond, "Uh no, you are not a Native American...you are a German, Irish, Englishman."

"Oh", he says, as if this is now settled.

There is absolutely NOTHING more refreshing than a conversation with a child.

In Pursuit of Dreams

Recently, as I traipsed through the catacombs of my heart I discovered my dreams. In the small recesses of this essential organ, and alone, my dreams laid in slumber.  Upon meeting my dreams, again, something like disgust travelled from my heart to my throat and emerged as grief.

When our students enter our schools and our classrooms, in essence, we begin the process of subverting their dreams.  We relegate them to chairs and desks, and deny them their natural impulse to explore.

At first, many children resist their parents and teachers.  "I don't WANT to go to school!"  is a common cry. In the end, most will submit to "the process".  What else is there?

Our country emerged from exploration, from risk-taking, and from innovation.  Today, our children turn to video games, not our schools, to mimic the pursuits experienced by our early ancestors.

Our education system has not failed our children.  We have failed our children. We have allowed their cries for change exhibited by drug use, suicide, and other forms of escapism to drown in the cacophonous sound of the machine we have built. The machine we call America the Beautiful.