I apologize for my recent lull in posting. When work and life get busy, I don't always have time to blog. However, I am recommitting to blogging even if my posts are short!
Today I met with two lower school students who are working on friendship skills. I introduced the idea that friendships are like riding your bike on a trail - there are often obstacles in your path. Every trail is going to have bumps and dips but if the obstacles are too big, you can't move forward. The students described the obstacles that they have experienced and then drew on the board the size of these bumps.
There were some big bumps! One was so big that the path was completely blocked. The students talked about how with some friends, there were more bumps than with others. Some bumps were much bigger with certain friends. With other friends, it was much easier to just enjoy the ride with few obstacles to have to work around.
Here were the biggest obstacles for these students:
Not listening with respect.
Laughing AT people not WITH them.
Mocking and teasing.
Making excuses - not taking responsibility for your own behavior and actions.
We also talked about how, as in the case with these two students, friendships can start off with difficulty but then smooth out after some time and effort. What makes for a smoother path? These were their ideas:
Talk about your feelings with your friend.
Talk to the friend directly if you are having problems (instead of talking to everyone else but NOT your friend).
Care about your friend's feelings - no bragging, teasing, or mocking.
Take responsibility for your behavior - apologize if necessary and make amends.
Once
upon a time there were six blind men who all lived in the same town. One day
the circus came to town and the men went to see the elephant. But how could
they? The first man said, “We can feel him.” “That’s a great idea!” said the
rest.
So
each man went to feel the elephant. The first man touched the elephant’s big,
flat ear. He felt it move slowly back and forth. “Oh” he said, “An elephant
is like a giant fan!”
The
second man touched the elephant’s leg. “Oh, an elephant is like a tree!”
The
third man felt the tail and said, “No you are both wrong. The elephant is like
a rope.”
But
the fourth man disagreed. He felt the elephant’s pointed tusk and said, “Ouch!
An elephant is like a spear.”
“No”
said the fifth man, “Can’t you tell an elephant is like a wall?” He was feeling
the elephant’s huge side.
The
sixth man grabbed hold of the elephant’s tusk. “You are all wrong! An elephant
is like a snake!”
The
men continued to argue, each one certain he was right. “It’s a fan.” “No, a
tree.” “Surely a rope!” “No, it’s a snake!” “You’re wrong. I’m right!”
Finally
they got tired of shouting at each other and they all went home. So none of
them ever found out what an elephant really was.
I read this story to the 7th Graders last week as part of a series of guidance lessons on bias. It generated a great discussion about perspective, assumptions, and judging. Each character in the story clings to his own experience and each walks away with an incomplete understanding of the elephant and of each other's experience.
We reflected on how our experience may be different from someone else's in the same situation and how our truth may only be a part of the whole picture. At which point, one student said, "That's like Plato's Cave." The other students leaned in with interested, questioning expressions. The student explained how the people in Plato's Cave were shackled to the cave wall and could only see the shadows of reality, never the true, authentic reality. "They could never see what was really going on."
Wow. I was impressed with this student's insight and I was equally impressed by the rapt, respectful attention of the other students.
After we spent some time digesting this story and imagery, I described experiencing a house by looking through one window. I can look through the window and see into a room but not see the whole room. I certainly cannot see the whole house. Each of us might look through a different window and have a completely different sense of what lies within the house.
Possibly, if we all shared what we each see through our window, we can move closer to the truth about what lies within the entire house.
Share your point of view honestly and bravely. Honor and respect the perspective of others. No small challenge for the typical middle school student. No small challenge for any of us.
For the past month or so, I have been visiting the 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade classrooms talking about Bullying. One concept that I've explored with the children has been the role of a bystander. Who is a bystander? How can a bystander make a difference? When have you been a bystander and what happened? What is the responsibility of a bystander?
Last week, I read "Wings" by Christopher Myers to the 5th graders. I absolutely love Myers' collages and I thought that the class would also appreciate the dramatic tale of Ikarus Jackson. They did. We discussed the artwork, Ikarus and his wings, and the powerful impact of a bystander.
We talked about superpowers and how sometimes what makes us special, powerful even, can make us feel different. The other kids (and adults) in the story took Ikarus' difference and used it as a tool for bullying. But one bystander, with her courage and truth, celebrated Ikarus' wings.
What are your wings? What is your superpower? Has someone ever helped you when you had a tough time celebrating your differences?
Last night, I attended the Richmond Symphony performance of Mahler’s
Symphony No. 1 in D Major. What a
tremendous emotional journey! I
will spare you my pedestrian music review (suffice it to say that I was
transported and loved every note), but I would like to share some of my
thoughts following the performance.
When this piece premiered, it received overwhelmingly
negative criticism and boos from the audience. Now, it is one of the most frequently performed symphonies
around the world. In his day, Mahler
was seen as a great conductor but a failed composer – and yet in our day, he is
celebrated as one of our finest composers.
How did Gustav Mahler continue to compose despite negative
criticism and discouragement?
Where does one find the will to create in an unsupportive environment?
Obviously, creativity and expression require risk and
vulnerability. History is littered
with great innovators who were underappreciated, discouraged, or ridiculed by
those around them. Some survived to be recognized for their achievements. Others died with no acclaim.
How do we, as educators, encourage students to take these necessary
risks, to be open to mistakes and criticism, to learn and grow? How do we develop a student’s inner
strength and confidence – the ability to see past initial failure or to see
beyond perceived failure?
A dear friend once gave me some advice as I was preparing
for a recital. I was telling him
about my terrible performance anxiety and how I fall apart in front of an
audience – hitting the wrong notes, messing up the tempo, etc. He told me, “Whenever I hit a wrong note,
I do it with confidence. I go with
it – maybe even hitting it wrong again on purpose.”
Now I certainly don’t have his sense of panache, but he
helped me see that my fear of failure was more powerful than the actual
mistake. The truth of the moment
was not in the wrong note but in my response to the wrong note. Could I celebrate the mistake and get
past it?
Fear can stop us from moving forward, from learning a skill, mastering a concept, or sharing a talent. What if nobody likes it? What if I mess up? What if I get the answer wrong? What if someone laughs at me?
Mahler was definitely affected by the negative criticism
surrounding him (he completely reworked his first symphony only to have the
next version meet the same disappointing reaction), but he chose to honor his
inner voice rather than the tastes of his audience. Mahler’s biographer Henry-Louis de La Grange writes
that “the emotions [Mahler] needed to express were so overpowering that he was
not much concerned with his future listeners’ reactions.” I am thankful that Mahler persevered.
I do
not want my students to let their fears block their growth. I want to encourage determination and inner strength by providing a learning community that is a
safe space to risk innovation. To
embrace mistakes with confidence. To
develop an inner voice that can guide through obstacle and opposition.
In life, there will be wrong answers. There will be mistakes. There will be times when our hard work and personal expressions are met with boos and negativity. We cannot let this stop us from sharing our voice and our gifts.
Thank you, Gustav Mahler, for your tenacity and courage.
This is the time for the teacher to establish expectations
and a rhythm to the day, to learn the nuances of the students – when to
support, when to challenge – and to tinker with how to guide exploration and
discovery.
This is the time for students to consider, “Who am I in this
group? What do I bring to the
class? How am I part of the
whole? Do I fit in here?”
This is the time for the teacher to provide leadership and
guidance with clear boundaries, warmth, and care – providing a safe,
comfortable environment for the students so they can take the social risks
necessary for joining with others.
Until the beginning of October, I try to avoid interrupting
the flow of the classroom.
I may visit a few classes where I have deep, comfortable relationships
with students – students who may need a reassuring word, smile, or hug. But I try to leave the teacher and students
to their dance of relationship and group identity. To form as a group.
When we allow this to occur, when we allow a space
for students and teacher to join together, something magical happens. The group becomes dynamic,
flexible, and strong – able to work through conflict and strife during the
school year, capable of deep growth and progress.
The group transforms from a collection of individuals to an
entity.
