Saturday, March 17, 2018

Lessons from the 7th Grade

Image result for youth future

It's been a humbling month in my classroom. The reverberations of the shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shook us all, and my students, especially my 7th graders, needed a place to process it together. They were full of questions and outrage and disbelief. They were also full of admiration for students, just a couple of years older than they are, rising up and making their voices heard.

We watched part of the CNN Town Hall together. I tried to offer context, tried to share the complexity of the issues, tried to show them the gray areas. If you know 12 year olds, especially angry 12 year olds, you know that gray is a tough shade to find, let alone inhabit! We talked about the 1st and 2nd Amendments, about mental illness and medical privacy, about lobbying, about the ever-shifting balance of rights vs. responsibilities. We talked about social movements and civic engagement. Lots of talk. Ultimately, they wanted to DO something.

So, we researched what kind of actions others were taking to support the MSD students, and my students identified ways they could commit to making a difference.

Then, when they read about the national walkout, the main question became, "Are WE going to do this?"

I told them I'd speak to our principal. I said I heard them and that we'd find a way to support them.

Our school's administration did not sanction a school-wide walkout. I admit, I was really disappointed. Our school has historically prided itself on being a progressive K-8 with a commitment to raising civically-minded and active students. To me, it seemed the obvious choice to plan for a full walkout. But I listened as our principal shared the superintendent's guidelines, and even though I didn't agree, I understood and respected the thought process. They wanted us to do our best to stay apolitical and to ensure the safety of students.

WAH WAH WAH

Over this past month, every time I've heard adults, including myself, try to explain/justify concepts like safety and fairness to our students in the wake of the MSD High School shooting, I've heard the adult sounds from the Charlie Brown and the Peanuts Gang cartoons.

WAH WAH WAH

Well, we worked with what we were given. Our teacher team listened to students about what other things we could do to carry forward the message and to support MSD students.

Ultimately, it had to be about the students.

Based on their feedback, we scheduled activities for our 7th and 8th graders to participate in at 10:00AM during Wednesday's walkout time. Students could choose to write letters to elected officials, create posters for the March for Our Lives on March 24, sign a banner to send to MSD, wear orange for gun violence prevention or MSD HS colors of maroon and silver, or opt out to process/act privately.

Some good compromise, right? Students would feel like they've been acknowledged and they would choose how/if they react to the current events.

But then, my 7th graders started to ask, "What would happen if we walked out?"  

I heard the Charlie Brown teacher in my head. I did.

I explained that the NYC Chancellor wrote that students should not be stopped and schools couldn't suspend them, but the consequence would be a cutting infraction. It would go on their record that they cut class. They got quiet and still.

And then I shook off the Charlie Brown voice and tried to say more.

"You know, sometimes we can show what we believe in a way that stays within parameters, but sometimes what we believe requires us to take a stand and face a consequence, because we know in our hearts it's right for us."  I watched them take it in. I said, "We've got a lot of great activities that you helped to plan, and all of them are good options, but you may feel that the best option for you is one that hasn't been approved. That's a decision you have to make for yourself, and be willing to accept the responsibility for that."

I said, "Whatever you do, I want you to know that I'm proud of you.  Whatever action you take furthers a movement that young people started and young people will lead. You are part of those young people."


At 10:00, half of our 7th grade walked out.  Some were signed out by parents who participated in the event, but many left on their own. The rest of the grade stayed and did meaningful activities.  All of it was so valuable.

But those 7th graders who walked out alone, they made a conscious choice for themselves NOT to follow adults. They chose to LEAD in a different way. They chose to leave the building and to face the consequence.

My heart cheered for them.

I think for many, it was the first real act of defiance they'd ever committed for something bigger than themselves.  What a pivotal moment.


It's actually why I'm grateful that our school didn't endorse a walkout.  I feel like the students - not adults - were truly in control of their choices.  It was thrilling to me, but I think and hope even more thrilling for them.

Image result for "I am stronger than fear"


The following period, I asked students, "How was last period's experience for you?" Overwhelmingly, their response was, "Powerful." They said they felt like they had a voice, that they were part of something bigger, that they thought they'd be alone, but there were so many others standing with them and they were surprised and excited.

I said, "I'm so incredibly proud of you.  Young people are the only ones who have been able to move this country forward on this issue, and now you are part of it.  Whatever you did last period, you are a part. Whether you continue with this movement or not, you now know that your voice can and does count.  Make it count. Get involved in what you most care about. Get hungry. Get angry. Get busy."

Students teach me every day. It's the greatest thing about being a teacher. I'm constantly learning. And not what I think I'm going to learn. Not even close!

Today's lesson from the 7th grade:
Stay hungry, stay angry, stay busy on the things that matter most to me. Define my purpose and keep my eye on it. Don't let that Charlie Brown adult voice drown out or tamp down the need for a healthy amount of risk, of putting myself out there for what I believe.

Saturday, January 6, 2018

Use Your Words

Happy New Year, everyone.

Whew. It's been a while.

I've been on a bit of a communication journey this past year.

Normally, I'd like to believe I'm a pretty decent communicator. I think that words are bridges. If we put our ideas out there, others can build on them, test the durability, point out faulty design and construction, but ultimately, it can be a cooperative and transformative effort.

I like building.
I like communicating.

But something shifted last year for me, and I had a bit of a setback in the communications department.

I think the first blow was blowback from a post I'd written in response to the Women's March last January. Man, I was really proud of that bridge-building post. Most of the response was supportive and positive, but a few sharp voices let me know that they could do without my bridge, thank you very much! They didn't see the need for any new building in the area. In fact, the overpass was a bit of an eyesore, bringing in the wrong kind of people. Don't build a bridge here without asking first!
Hmm.

I watched how words got picked over and taken out of context, not by everyone, but by enough. I struggled as my best intentions were misconstrued and my meaning mangled. The reconstructed sum was not the whole of my parts.

That sucked.

I experienced it professionally, too. While my main crew and I have always been good builders together, my bridge-building was having some zoning issues with the higher ups. A couple of important players perceived me as a foreman of a demolition crew.

Demolition?!
Wow.
That sucked, too.
So I made a choice to retreat and to go radio silent for a while. Save for the coveted safe spot, I went quiet.

And what I found was that my silence didn't make things better. I know I sure didn't feel better.

It seems that silence can be as easily misconstrued as words. People can - and will - fill the void with their own story for you.

Which brings me to the new year, and the resolution that I'd return and use my words.
From here on out, I'll use my words. I'll tell my own version of my story.

Yesterday in the school hallway, a passing pleasantry with a teacher-friend about our snow day turned into a real conversation about much bigger and heavier things. She shared the struggles she's been experiencing lately, and even after we hugged goodbye, she stayed with me. I got home and decided to use my words.

Okay, I admit that I started my email to her last night after I'd had my week's-end celebratory margarita.  I held off sending it to my friend then, because I wanted to reread it this morning and make sure that it didn't sound alcohol-fueled/inspired.  

I found it still held up when I read it with my morning's cup of coffee.  It transfers nicely, no matter what libation I'm lapping up.

I hit send.

I got an email reply that made me cry.  I was relieved and excited that my words had landed the way I'd hoped.  

All day, I've continued to mull this interaction.  I'm so grateful it happened.  Gotta use my words more.
Here's to a year of using words and building bridges. 
Here's to a year of healing and connecting.

Friday, August 21, 2015

(S)park!

Mike and I have been together for 12 years and married for six. That's 48 seasons. While I understand that's a drop in the bucket for some, it's a wonderfully long time in my book. I love our relationship.

     Of course, like all relationships, ours needs to be nurtured. Relationships are living breathing entities like the people in them. They change over time, because we change over time, so it's important to always be paying attention. In order to do just that, I've been doing some research.
     First stop, writer, activist, and internationally syndicated relationship columnist, Dan Savage!
     Dan Savage was the first to use the abbreviation GGG - Good, Giving, and Game - to explain what partners should strive to be in order to nurture and sustain a successful, healthy relationship.  Savage promotes being up for anything... within reason. Hey, there are as many proclivities out there as there are people. It's important to be open and willing to explore.
     And genuine science backs Savage up. Dr. Amy Muise's Psychology Today article, "Are You GGG?" acknowledges that "people who are more motivated to respond to their partner’s needs report higher relationship satisfaction and feel more intrinsic joy after making a sacrifice for their partner.” 
     Now, I'm not trying to brag when I say - I've been pretty darn GGG over the years. Years of damaged boyfriends and comedy improvisation taught me to always say, "Yes, and...," and I think there have been more winners than losers in my relationships when all was said and done. I like to think that my husband benefits from my high GGG level. I try to keep the magic alive, as magazines and talk shows like to say. 

     But.

     Mike has been asking for one thing over the years that, well, I've never felt completely comfortable with. Full disclosure - I've done it before. I started doing it early (14?), and I'm pretty good at it (even if I grow impatient and tire of it quickly). Ultimately, I don't enjoy it. To be fair to Mike, it's not a deviance; more of a desire... a desire that's morphed into a necessity. The requests that started as sweet and subtle suggestions became more frequent and pressing entreaties.

     My husband wants me to park the car.
     No, that's not a euphemism.  
     He wants me to actually PARK THE CAR.


All of you outside major urban areas are yelling a collective WHAT?! Yes, I hear you. But city dwellers, back me up here. 

     Like most sane New Yorkers, I do not like driving - let alone parking - in New York City. I don't need to drive here. It's easy to get anywhere I have to go by foot, by bicycle, or by MTA. When Mike and I first got together, he owned a car, but I didn't. Several years and vehicles later, we took over one of my parents' cars when they downsized and moved to Florida. While our car became a jointly-owned asset, the responsibility still remained solely Mike's.
During the school year, I had a strong defense. My devoted husband may have had an itch for something different, but he knew that NO was my answer. He didn't even bother to ask, and that was the end of it. Most often, Mike could be home early enough from work to beat the neighborhood parking rush. Sometimes he was able to work from home, so he could take part in the alternate side, double-parking ballet.  He was still the master of his domain.  

     Things changed, though, when he started a new job this year. He returns home in the evening, and late-night parking really blows. 
     So when summer rolled around and my schedule became less demanding and more flexible, Mike began to press a bit.
     He'd lean in close and purr in his best Barry White, “Hey, if you’re around at 12:45…” 
     I'd stiffen and pull away. “Mike, I'm really not comfortable with that.”  I'd remind him that he is a master at parking!  He’s got magic parking space radar and surgical precision. He can squeeze into a space with nothing but a sigh between bumpers. I am not as adept. Of course, he'd counter that I just don't do it as often, but that if I would just give it a try, I would see it really isn't a big deal. My protests would continue until finally he would drop it, but I knew he was undeterred... maybe even more resolute. He was gonna wear me down, all right!
     And wear me down he did.

     The first time, I was truly panicked. I envisioned myself driving around in an endless loop. "But did she ever return, No, she never returned, and her fate is still unlearned..." But heaven, and a parking space, opened right up. I felt a surge of confidence run up the steering column and into my very being as I turned the wheel to the curb. I DID IT!
     It has become easier. I've even begun to initiate. It doesn't matter how good I am at it, I get the job done, and Mike is just so incredibly grateful that I'm (finally) willing and able.  
     Something has shifted since I've started to help park the car. My husband has been more attentive.  Often my texts are met with radio silence, but look at how quickly and enthusiastically he responds when I text about the car:

  
It's incredible! I feel like finally surrendering to this request has brought us closer. We're back in a honeymoon phase. Seriously, look at the love here:

 

Lesson learned? 
The way to a man’s heart is through a parking space.

I'm doing it twice today. How's that for GGG in the NYC?