I recently received the following email from a student I taught in eighth grade a few years ago. She is at university now.
Hey Mr.R!
Long time no talk. How are you? How’s the family? Hope you’re all doing well. I’m going into my second year now at the University of Waterloo in Canada. I sort of hate it, but I’m learning to deal with it, so I guess that part’s okay. I wanted to ask you for some advice – I’m in a weird place right now. They really don’t prepare you for college in high school… Well, anyway, I’m kind of stuck between wanting to be an English major and struggling with what my odds would look like career-wise, and trying to pick something more “practical” like Psychology and going to med school etc. I’m so confused and it’s so unbelievably frustrating to be debating myself about my entire future… please help!
My response:
Dear…
You find yourself in a familiar spot for anyone who has ever been entranced by the word. For every person who’s been tricked into believing that perhaps a living can be made from prose and metaphor and creation and bliss.
The reality, and I really hate to be the one to tell you– as perhaps I was the one who lit the fire, or at least fanned it early in your life, is that there is nothing practical about literature or writing. It is a dead end road obstructed with angst and pain. Forget about careers and security and normality.
You may be one of the lucky ones who has the tenacity, talent and verve to become an actually writer. A tattered creature scraping by enough money to make what they call a living, but the reality is more likely that you will fill your head with the magic of words and find yourself powerless to exist in a world that seldom values them.
Maybe you will become a teacher who spends her life hoodwinking others into believing that art and beauty and dreams are more a human act that working and careers and money can ever be.
You ask me advice about practicality? I know little about the subject. Follow your heart and what you love, the rest will fall into place. Do what you believe will make you happy. Think of what has always made you happy thus far and stick with that. Do not be led by practicality. There are more than enough people following those pursuits. There is nothing wrong with Med school or psychology, but do it because you love it and you feel you have no other choice. Do not allow your decisions to be made based on what you think you should do. Make them based on what you must do.
Whatever you do, will be the right choice. Life is long and simple and pleasant when you do what you love.
I know Dean Shareski, in his post Let’s Stamp Out Busyness, declared a moratorium on claiming to be busy, but I have to break it for the purpose of this post. Man, have I been busy! New year, new school, new country and we are out of the gates strong. Teaching more classes, more kids; it just feels like more, more and more.
A little taste, 8:00 am= Extended mentor time, four classes in a row, lunch, no prep periods, followed by a English department meeting, (it is now 4:30pm), meeting with Keri Lee Beasely about side ADE project, capping it off with Pad Thai with KL, home around 7:30. Put kids to bed and now here I am. Exhausted. Feel sorry for me.
But….. as I was making lunch for Kaia, I couldn’t help thinking:
And…..what do I choose to do in this state of exhaustion? You guessed it, I blog. I need to write. Not necessarily because I feel I have anything life changing to share. Not because I am trying to gain sympathy or gain attention for being busy, no…I write because this is how I make sense of my life. This is how I calm down and sort and reflect. Writing for me is a soothing verb. A clarifying one. When life becomes too much, I need to bring order through text and words and sentences and paragraphs, no matter how misdirected or jumbled they may appear, it is in text that I find comfort.
As an English teacher, I instill the therapeutic value of writing, for my students. I sell the verb, because I find value in the act of writing. Perhaps, I am naive or close-minded, or delusional, but I think adults, teachers especially should also value writing. It always ruffles my feathers when people say they haven’t time to write or read or reflect or create. Why is it okay to admit we don’t have time to do the very things we tell students are so important in their lives. If we value literacy, than shouldn’t we need to participate in it, with it. Right?
Okay, stepping off soapbox…
As I write, the little voice is criticizing everything I say. What about numeracy? We value that too, but I don’t see you working out equations or experiencing your right brain.We value athletics, why don’t you go for a run or a swim? Perhaps, I have been biased for gravitating toward writing because it comes easy for me. Perhaps it is my comfort tool, but causes anxiety and dread in others, just like running or math does for me.
Whatever our release, shouldn’t we share these acts with our students? Let them know that what we teach is what we value and what we do and that is why they should give it a try.
Sorry, maybe this post was just a ramble. It helped me rest and calm my brain, I hope it helps you in some way. If you have made it this far, here some questions to chew on:
What is your release? What helps you come down (calm down) from the crazy, but keeps you connected with the pedagogical ideas and practices you value? What do you do each day despite being exhausted that keeps you fresh and learning? How and who do you share with?
She just needs to know that you are there. The worst thing that parents do is to project their own fear onto their kids and weigh them down with water wings or life jackets or other apparatus that force the kid to never feel comfortable in the water. Just be there. Let her float, let her swim, let her sink and struggle, but never panic, never show doubt or fear. Just be there and let her grab onto you when she needs to.
That advice was given to me a few years ago, by a friend and aquatic director in a pool in Phuket Thailand, as I was teaching my then two year old daughter Kaia how to swim. She was (is) a natural in the water. She has been in the water since she was four months old and could almost swim before she could walk.
With Kaia, just being there was simple. She never really clung to me, and before we knew it she was swimming. People would gawk and stare. You could hear them whispering to each other or speaking out loud, “Wow, she really loves the water.” There seemed to be very little teaching involved. She just learned how to swim. I took Mike’s advice. I let her know that there was nothing scary about the water and that she should always know that I was there. I encouraged her to take risks, all the while constantly whispering, “I got you sweety. You can do this. Don’t be afraid. Daddy is here.” I modeled behavior and set challenges we did together. She was a natural. It was easy.
Things have been a bit different with my second daughter Skye. We started her early as well, did everything the same. She has always loved the water too, but she has been much more cautious and slower to take the leap into the deep end. She has taken her time and spent more time holding on and clinging. She has gone through phases and had moments of doubt and regression. This week, however, she turned a major corner. She let go. She trusted. She swam.
What does this have to do with education and why am I writing about it here? For the last few days, I couldn’t help but think about the nature of teaching and learning. I think Mike’s advice about teaching children to swim can be applied to all kinds of learning:
Set challenges
Model behavior
Create environments where risks are encouraged and celebrated
Be supportive but not suffocating
Don’t establish a culture of reliance on unnecessary tools of support
I can do this. This is how I teach. I get it. What I have learned working with Skye, however, is that this model is great when kids are naturals and don’t really need you. I am good at standing in the pool and telling kids to jump, when I know they will most likely swim. I can tell kids to take risks and write, take photos, sing songs, make films etc… when I know that they only need a little support, but what happens when they sink right away, or when they cling a little too tightly for a little too long? This is my weak spot.
The worst thing you can do is compare kids. Kaia was swimming much sooner than this! Well, Skye is not Kaia, and no two kids are the same in our classrooms. We have to be able to understand how much support each child needs, and more importantly when how hard to push to instill confidence and not fear or failure.
I have learned a lot from my wife Mairin in this regard. She has been very patient and tender with Skye. It was in her arms that Skye finally let go and began to swim. I kept pushing Skye to let go and jump, only forcing her to pull back, but Mairin actually followed Mike’s advice and was simply there. She let Skye work in her own time. The support model does work. There is no need to panic and slap on the water wings, but sometimes it just takes longer and the level of being there needs to be more nurturing. You cannot force kids to let go, until they feel safe enough to swim. They need to know that the deep end is not any scarier than the shallow end when you can swim.
I should never have compared Skye to Kaia, just like we shouldn’t use “successful” kids in our classes as barometers for others. If they can swim, then send them off on other challenges. Let them work on strokes, let them practice diving whatever, but do not turn your back on the child who still needs you to be there when they jump. Let them grab your neck and feel their way in the water.
I cannot put into words how exciting it is to watch Skye’s excitement in the pool these last few days. I am literally watching her take bigger and bigger risks. She swims longer, grabs less tightly and smiles the entire time.
How do you deal with your pool? (classroom) Does this model work for you? Any advice?
ps: I guess this model is true for tech coaches and adult learners as well. How often do we ask teachers to simply jump in and swim, when they might need to just hold on for a bit longer?
I just had one of those lessons. You know the kind– the ones that leave you buzzing, because it was all so organic, authentic, and the kids leave giving you hi-fives. The best part about it, was that it was a last minute audible. Let me give you some context before I continue:
I am all but done for this term. I have enough scores and assessments to determine student grades; I have written my comments and all the bureaucracy of learning has been dutifully accomplished. I have, however, challenged my students to do one last unit–one that will not be assessed, graded, marked, evaluated…whatever you want to call it. It won’t count.There is no test. We are doing cuz it is fun, we are learners and that is what we do.
Surprisingly, or maybe not, the kids are on board. They are working just as hard and we are having some very low-pressure fun at the end of the year.
Grade 10’s are watching and reading Romeo & Juliet and planning a 10 minute live action highlight role-play of the play.
Grade 7’s read Freak the Mighty and are creating an anti-bullying campaign. Short slips, posters etc…
Grade 6’s are preparing short role-plays about life in middle school to prepare the 5th graders.
This post is about the grade 6 class. They have been working in groups to find out what the grade 5’s want to know We have an open Google Doc where the grade 5’s have asked questions and the grade 6’s have collaboratively answered them. We had a day where they met and chatted about their ideas, my kids took notes and began planning their skits.
These are Language B students, so we have some shy low-level English speakers. Last week, I noticed that they are getting bogged down in script writing and planning. I want them to focus more on different ways they can convey ideas and information through drama and movement. I started experimenting with some improv activities, that to be honest were uninspired and fell flat. I was going to google more improv activities, when I thought I would ask Twitter first. Here is where the magic usually begins…
Which as you will see led to her teaching an improv lesson to my class from Chicago at 10:00pm her time. We quickly cleared the classroom, I explained to my students what was happening, they took it in stride. We chatted a bit with Katie and she took over. I stood back and let someone who knows more about acting take over and deliver my content. At first the kids were shy and awkward, but after a warm up and a few activities, they were loving it.
One activity Katie had them do, was exactly what I was looking for, when I first thought to Google this idea. She asked for a group of four volunteers and had them do a quick impov in one minute. She told them to focus on movement and to react to their fellow actors. Then, they were asked to do the same exact skit in 30secs, then 15 secs, then 7. It was perfect, because it showed the kids that too much time is ripe for awkward silences, while going too fast causes chaos and silliness. A few groups nailed some great improv skits at around 30 seconds. We will definitely use this activity again as we prepare our role-plays.
Take a look at some quick clips I captured while Katie worked with the kids:
So how does this happen? Many teachers new to networked learning will either think that things like this lesson are impossible or super simple. The truth is somewhere in the middle. It takes years of working within a network environment to find people you trust. I have know Katie for sometime now. We share photos on Instagram, follow each other on Twitter and read each other’s blogs. I know through our personal interactions that she is a kindred spirit, a silly and goofy middle school teacher, who would be great in my classroom. When she tells me she does Improv, I am not surprised, but I know that I can count on her to Skype into my class at 10:00 pm and do a great job. These relationships are what Twitter is about. This trust is why the line between personal and professional is always blurring.
I have Skyped into countless classrooms, sharing my expertise on various topics in the same way. We are moving beyond networks of shared information and data and building communities of trust and sharing. It this is world of open possibilities to which I want to expose my students. Earlier this year when we were studying Afghanistan, my students Skyped with the Afghani blogger, Nassim Fekrat, who I met through a mutual friend on Twitter. I want my students to see that the Internet is not about pure data. It is interactive and through responsible use a wonderful tool for learning–from people, not just websites. . I want them to see that there are people out there who can help them when called upon. We must model this behavior and show them that it is common to interact with people when we need help.
One more quick example, by now most of us have seen Caine’s Arcade. I am so excited that on Monday, we will have the creator of the film, Nirvan, Skyping into my grade 7 class to talk about film making. This group of 7th grades are the same kids who made these amazing films, and wrote poems based on Caine’s Arcade. We hope to speak with Nirvan about telling stories and how to gain leverage through the web to share our work. We hope to get some advice for our Anti-bullying videos. How did this interview come about? I Tweeted Nirvan and asked. He put me in touch with his office, and after weeks of negotiating time (he has been swamped) we agreed on Monday.
For teachers getting started, who ask how do I do something like this? Or for people asking where the tech is in all this? The answer is I don’t know. We create online spaces. We build online identities. We create content. We build communities. We make friends. We share. We are open. We reach out. We trust. We experiment. We are not afraid to fail.
I have never been a fan of numbers. Can’t (don’t, won’t?) do maths. Physics ain’t my thing. I do, however, have a nagging curiosity about the nature of the universe and the magic with which it is made up. I simply choose to express my curiosity through words–poetry and metaphor, stories and allusions. There is a poetry in numbers, I am sure, but I only feel it when I translate it into pictures and words.
So when I saw the video below about the power of stored energy and chain reactions, my mind immediately sprung to an analogy and a song:
Until your back’s up against the wall
You never know yourself that much at all
So you’ve got to share your love with a friend
That’s all that you’ve got left in the end
Living in this city of pure confusion
People misled by their own illusion
All this action, no satisfaction
We’re all linked together like a chain reaction
Play or fold, love is bold
What is the future that will unfold?
Beastie Boys
Take a look:
I couldn’t help but think about the concept of stored energy and release, of change and revolution in– politics, in education, in personal growth. My mind lit up to reveal how, “a person is a person no matter how small.” I am so often frustrated with the slow pace of change in terms of educational reform, or politics change, or social justice, but this clip reminded me that we live in a universe of stored and released energy. I may feel like the tiny 1mm x 1mm domino, but perhaps someday when I simply lead forward a bit and reach that tipping point, the larger dominoes (traditional schooling, racism, sexism, homophobia, etc….) will to topple over. Or maybe they are in the process of falling as we speak, but we are stuck in a slow-motion frame and it feels like it is taking forever.
Then I thought about the power of positive energy and love and karma and what this energy could be capable of when released! Not to get all metaphysical here, but there is power in energy, as evidenced in the clip, so be aware of how you harness, store, use and release it.
cc licensed ( BY ) flickr photo shared by aroid
