Do Generations Need Gaps? Nah.

I picked up my mom's friend yesterday to share a ride to my parents' house. We got to chatting about middle schoolers. She has a friend with a 14-year-old girl and she also used to teach middle school students, about thirty years ago. She said there are two things that she "can't stand" about "kids these days". Obviously, I was immediately defensive (something I'm working on), but I listened carefully.

1. "Kids are always texting on their phones, and so fast! As someone without a phone, and with no intention of ever getting one, I just don't understand what they are doing!"

2. "You try to have a conversation with a kid and it is just, 'like, like, like' every other word. They can't even carry on a normal conversation. I can't talk to them!"

Both of these observations made me sad. From the forceful media to grandmothers, kids are expected to suddenly be grown-ups, without any training. I understand the frustration of conversation with kids who have little confidence or experience in putting forth an original idea. But, as adults (and I'm not just talking about teachers, but all adults), we hold the social power over kids, simply through our extensive experience messing up and trying to communicate again, differently. It is our RESPONSIBILITY to have patient and gracious converstions where kids can try out their ideas and their language with learned confidence.

If I could say one thing to today's grandparent generation, it would be to ask questions and listen, and respond with your own thoughtfulness. One of the most harmful messages we adults can send our kids is that their voice has no place in our world. How long will it take to shed that message? As a granddaughter who had limited and shallow conversations with my grandparents, I can only imagine the rich insights and learned confidence we could have gained from one another. My husband's grandparents, in contrast, delight in sitting around the dinner table and asking questions about current events, asking for solutions to immediate challenges, and inviting witty banter. In that family, wit and intelligence are necessary skills, and they are sharpened in our conversations together.

On to the next...

I just got back from a family wedding and vacation in Hawaii. In 8 hours I leave for the NAIS Summer Diversity Institute in Alexandria, VA. I'm trying to shift my window of perspective from white privileged tourists to engaged...hmmm. I'm not really sure what my new MO will be, what will be required of me, of my perspective, of my integrity and honesty about my own identity in relation to my community at work. I know I'm not ready. I know I will be overwhelmed and feel lacking. I know I will need courage, stamina, and compassion. One night's sleep with my beloved, and I'm ready to face anything. Maybe.

Don't fight the waves

I'm listening to the rattle of myna birds and wind in the palm trees. Today we will witness the marriage of my brother-in-law and my brother-in-law to-be. I have been surprised by finding that I am bracing myself for the confusion, the sourness, the antipathy as people ask our group, "who is the lucky couple?" only to find two glowing men, beaming at each other. But then, as I wait for it, I witness the unexpected. Graciousness. Honor. Joy, even. It seems that love really does conquer all.

autumn is restless

wool sweater
lawn chair
sunset before 8:30
hot tea
see the steam
lesson plans unfold
organize
anticipate
too tired to go climbing
too tired to wash the dishes
leaves rustle, crispily.
after endless days
of not talking to anyone
will i remember
how to listen?

Perfection isn't the answer.

My summer is winding down. i can count the number of "free" days left on just three fingers. As a teacher, i often hide the fact that i count on my fingers, especially when adding. Though, when i admit in front of my blessed class that i have to count by fives to gauge the time left in class (and i keep track of the fives secretly on my knuckles), they smile and give me tips to help count 30 minutes easily.

I just read a little article about society's narrow view of beauty, and it reminds me that as teachers (and plain adults too), we have a challenge to model imperfection, to model ugly, to model struggle in learning. i think the challenge is not simply in admitting to our own challenges, but to embrace our whole selves with compassion, and then ask for help in growing and learning how to overcome challenge, or embrace what society might call ugly or imperfect as beautiful and perfectly acceptable.

My heart hurts when i see students hide the fact that they are struggling; or that their first attempt at something didn't meet their expectations; when they feel "stupid". i am a recovering "stupid" and i can easily get down on myself when i don't reach "perfect". Teaching helps me understand the process of growth. Being able to learn alongside kids who are Eager! Driven! and Accepting helps me to focus on the challenge at hand, and not worry so much about whether or not i will be/do "perfect".

A few days ago i was out at a climbing wall, and a man in his twenties was attempting to lead climb his first 5.10b. Vocabulary breakdown (very generally): Lead climbing is when the rope end is attached to the climber. the climber's job is to free climb (no protection from the rope) a short distance and then clip the rope into a bolt in the rock. the belayer on the ground then belays the climber up to the next bolt. The climber has to keep clipping in all the way up the wall until the climber reaches the top, where the climber then secures the rope with an anchor. Sport climbs are rated Class 5 in the Yosemite Decimal Rating System. Walking is Class 1. Class 5 is then decimaled out to tell the level of the climb's difficulty. When i teach a beginner climber, i'll have her start out on a 5.4 or 5.5. The beasts of rock climbing are busting out at 5.15. There can be even smaller increments of difficulty, signaled when a 5.10 increases to a 5.10b or 5.10c. After that, it will become a 5.11.

Back to the story. This young guy was struggling on the wall. He couldn't find a good hold in order to get to his next bolt, even while his buddies were calling up suggestions. We learned, as we watched, that this was his first attempt. He yelled down, "I suck at this!" Such a familiar feeling to me! That feeling keeps me from persisting at a new idea or skill. That feeling is my nemesis and i try to squelch it whenever possible. i called up, "How can you suck if you've never done it before?"

As i start back to work next week, and anticipate all the new things that i will try (and expect perfection), i must keep asking myself and my students, "how can we expect perfection when we've never done this before?" I would love to annihilate the concept of Perfection, and retrain ourselves to seek our individual potential and ask instead, "did i conduct this to my highest potential?."

Roasted pig, anyone?

We went to a farm, surrounded by alders, cedars, dripping salmon berries and sly creeping blackberries.  The blue-grey campfire smoke rose up behind the house, evidence of a freshly un-buried pig with an ashy potato in his mouth.  The field was mowed and the tents set up for an extended party for some friends of ours.  I sat around the fire for hours, listening and chatting and sharing about life.

Meeting new people is something i love.  I love finding out what other people find interesting, how they find meaning in their lives, what makes them laugh.  I also like talking about my passions. Telling people that i teach 6th grade always brings one of several reactions.  "Oh, duuuude, how can you put up with them?  Caddy bitches, those middle school girls."  Or, "Awesome!  That sounds like SO-MUCH-FUN!"

All valuable responses.  i like talking about how adolescence isn't a choice.  It isn't like these kids wake up and say to themselves, "I love feeling incredibly awkward.  I love wondering if people are constantly noticing my breast buds through my t-shirt, and is this t-shirt still cool enough?"  Of course this is one of the most emotionally painful times in our lives.  i would say even more painful than the first broken heart because it is as if one's own self is constantly trying to betray one's own heart and self-esteem.  So sure, there is a fair amount of caddy, harmful drama that MUST be processed.  We like to talk about it, to discuss how to respond to the slap-in-the-face comments like, "I can't believe you actually are still wearing Vans.  This year, we're all wearing Cons."

But also, there is so much FUN.  I love the easy laughter, when it comes full-bellied and at no one's expense.  I love the pranks on the art teacher.  I love the wonder that happens when new learning hits home.  It is what brings me to tears, at the end of the day, when i am in awe of my young co-workers.

Sinking, dripping, setting suns

Relaxation and rejuvenation have been my goal this summer. i think it's working, because i'm already getting excited about the new school year, and am beginning to design and tinker with my curricula with joy in my heart and tingling creativity.

However, i'm hoping to take my new habit of stopping, breathing, and being grateful through the whole year. My partner and i found ourselves at the beach a few nights ago. The commanding presence of the setting sun stopped us, sat us down in the sand, and invited us to watch the closing of the day, like drops of honey spilling over the mountain peaks and into the Sound, finally dissolving into the purple backbone of the Olympics. i felt love swell my heart in new places. I turned to my sweetie and asked, What if we did this every day? How would our lives be different if we watched the sunset every day this year? We smiled at each other and agreed to the challenge. Once we get our digital imaging system set up (oh, sounds so formal!), i hope to post our sunsets to this blog. join us in as many sunsets as you can!