The time trap

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How we spend our days is how we spend our lives.    -Annie Dilliard

Don’t waste your time
Hurry up! We are running out of time!
Time’s up!
Sorry, we don’t have time for that today.
We need to make up for lost time.
Keep your eye on the time.

How often have these phrases left my mouth? Too often!! And when I say them aloud, I feel the physical urgency to move into super-fast-every-second-counts-mode. I feel the grip this pace takes on my nervous system. It squeezes out every human instinct: I forget to hydrate, eat, and even go to the washroom. Time is the boss of me.

Why are we obsessed with time and how we spend it? Is our fixation with time connected to a deeply held cultural belief around productivity and efficiency? Is usefulness measured by the number of “widgets” we can produce in a day?  The more widgets we can produce, the more productive and efficient we are. Time is the boss.

Is learning like churning out widgets? Is learning about efficiency and productivity?

It can be tempting. We have x number of pieces of curriculum and to make the quota, we must produce x amount of learning per day. Perhaps, unknowingly, we have transposed pieces of the curriculum with widgets: the more pieces of the curriculum we cover in a day, the more useful and successful we feel. The learning fits into the time.

What if the small pieces of the curriculum are unrecognizable to our students? Sure, small pieces might be easy to handle and plan for. But does the convenience make the piece meaningless (both to ourselves and our learners)?

We ask our students to keep on, keeping on, and don’t mention when the pieces will fit together. We sledgehammer the curriculum into pieces so they fit neatly into 5-minute stations but in the process lose sight of the story we are trying to create. Time is queen.

What if time wasn’t the parameter we defaulted to? Let’s zoom out to see 5 years in a child’s life. What matters here? Zoom out a bit more and look at the child’s life over 12-years. What matters now? Finally, zoom way out and look at the story of this child over an entire lifetime. What matters? What patterns, stories, and experiences do we hope to see? Perhaps joy, hope, self-knowledge, love of learning, connection, and curiosity (this is not exhaustive)?

Let’s zoom back in to look in the minutes and hours. Where and when are these big sweeping stories present? Are these hopes and dreams manifested in every moment or just some? Can we see the big themes within the small?

When the pieces become too small, maybe it is time (haha) to escape the time trap.

p.s. I am not implying that knowledge acquisition is not important or relevant. When we break knowledge down into small unrecognizable bits it is hard to see where it fits. I am suggesting that knowledge acquisition could be in service of something greater than the acquisition itself.

Quality Follows Passion and Purpose

personalize

Neurologically speaking, it is literally impossible to think deeply about things you don’t care deeply about.  -M. H. Immordino-Yang

Have you ever tried to force yourself to care about something that you really don’t care about? How did that go for you?

As a child, I struggled to care about grammar and spelling. From my grade 3 perspective, writing consisted of grammar, spelling, and handwriting, (mine was always messy). These activities seemed like a huge waste of time. I mean, I had books to read, plays to create, and movies to make. So funny (not funny) that I didn’t connect these activities to writing! How does that happen? It wasn’t till later in my life that I discovered that I love to write.

“If we taught babies to talk as most skills are taught in school, they would memorize lists of sounds in a predetermined order and practice them alone in a closet.”                                                     -Linda Darling-Hammond

When I realized that there were ideas that I wanted to write about, spelling and grammar became relevant. And full disclosure, I am not an early learning literacy expert, so I can’t speak to the intricacies of how a person should learn how to write. What I know from my lived experience is writing because I had to write, crushed my interest in it, and also my desire to improve.

“If you’re going to do something, I believe, you should do it well.  You should sweat over it and make sure it’s strong and accurate and beautiful and you should be proud of it.”                                               -Ron Berger

A decade or so ago, blogging and tweeting precipitated a reinvigorated view of writing. Finally, I wanted to look at other examples of writing and explore what quality writing looked like. The process of learning to blog, engendered me to want to learn more about writing. I felt a purpose, which developed into a passion, and a desire to understand quality. I wanted to get better at writing, not because I was asked to, or was given a rubric on writing, but because it felt good. Striving for quality felt good when I cared.

“Productive learning is where the process engenders and reinforces wanting to learn more…”                      -Seymour Sarason

My journey as a non-writer to casual blogger led me to wonder about how we inspire quality and how we define success in education. As a student, the narrative was that if I worked hard and become excellent at spelling, grammar, and everything else, then I would be successful, and finally happy. I tried to be excellent in those areas, but I didn’t find purpose or meaning in them. For me, quality followed behind finding purpose and meaning, and not the other around. I felt successful not because I had A’s (or extending) but when I discovered what gave purpose and meaning to my life.

The old narrative tells us to work towards excellence and fulfillment will follow. But I wonder (so check my thinking here) if we have the story backward? As we transition from letter grades to proficiency scales are we changing how we ask our learners to explore quality and define success? How might learners discover what gives them purpose?  How might they get to experience that striving for quality feels good when they care?

What are your thoughts? Would love to hear them!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Privilege

blindspot                                                                            Shared on flickr by Thomas Hawk

We all have a blind spot around our privilege shaped exactly like us.
                                                                                    -Junot Dias

I am white, straight, married, middle class, and neurotypical. I could go on. Basically, I am privileged. I have privilege. Privilege, like the air around us, is omnipresent but invisible and easy to forget. We take note when it is low supply.

Before last spring, I hadn’t given much thought to privilege. While listening to a series of youth give their TED talk, I had a moment of what I call “clarity and truth.”  These students were exploring their own privilege or lack of privilege, and how they had created authentic, unique identities. Wow! Mind blown! Here were these teens who recognized their own privilege. Somehow, I had moved through life without even considering it! Blind spot alert.

Throughout my life, I had been aware of situations when I didn’t have privilege (like in university when every science prof was white, male, and middle-aged). These big moments of no privilege were easy to spot. Just look to the news to see this how lack of privilege stands out. When a women wins a Nobel Prize in Physics (only the 3rd women in 117 years!) it is headline news. Yet, in the very same week, we hear a Cern physicist announce that physics is a field for men (not women), because it was designed by men. How crazy is that? He got the second part right!

It is easy to recognize situations when there is a huge lack of privilege (just think of #metoo) or when there is a lot of privilege (Bill Gates type privilege). It becomes more challenging when privilege is more subtle. I had missed the subtle areas of my life where privilege was present and how it manifested.

As I listened to these youth describe how they had forged an authentic identity, without privilege on their side, I began to realize that I had taken my privilege for granted. I hadn’t been aware of how I could use my privilege to make space for others to create identities for themselves.  In the months to come, I reflected that the materials, books, movies, and paradigms that I relied on in my classroom were not as diverse and inclusive as they could have been. I accepted that my lack of understanding of neurodiversity had caused me to create learning that was incredibly biased towards neurotypical learning. Most ironically of all, I recognized that I had presented science as status quo truth, while ignoring other world views. My privilege was not only invisible to me, but it was a set of blinders that kept me looking at a very small slice of the world

I had to look at my privilege (even the ugly parts) and say: I see you privilege but you don’t own me, I am not yours; I see you privilege but I can topple you; I recognize that you are part of me, but you are not going to define me; I am not going to work on your behalf and keep your status quo.

Privilege, I see you now.

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Keniesha, Tor, and Hannah: thank you for the moment of “clarity and truth”, thank you for teaching me so much about the world, thank you for being role models, thank you for your bravery and wisdom.

 

Start from Abundance

joy                                                                                      Image shared on Flickr by Agnieszka

Making a dream into reality begins with what you have, not with what
you are waiting on. 

                                                                                                  ~T. F. Hodge

 

A couple of weeks ago, I spent time with a grade 8 class of 50 students, co-taught by 2 teachers. The teachers have adjoining classrooms, but when all 50 students come together, a larger open space is used. This wall-less space is directly off the school’s entrance way, what you might call a multi. What I noticed first about this space were the limitations and shortcomings: the ambient noise, the uncomfortable tables, the distracting hallway traffic, and the lack of technology.

Later, as we debriefed with the 2 teachers, they willingly acknowledged the limitations of their physical space and some of the challenges they face with a class of 50. But here is the thing: they didn’t stop to perseverate and get all tangled up in what was lacking.  Instead, like a smooth, flat rock, skipping over top of the water, they kept right on going, past what was lacking, and onto what was possible.

The teachers described the numerous advantages of the diversity and size of the group. They talked passionately about their partnership and how co-planning had amplified their professional growth. They shared examples of student work, project outlines, and non-linear standards. Listening to them, my perceived limitations of the space seemed insignificant compared to what they had created.

They had believed in the possible. They had started from abundance.

After our visit, I spent time reflecting on the experience, wondering if I would have believed in the possibilities of the situation. When I imagined myself stepping into something similar, I felt an overwhelming fear of the unknown.  There were so many things that could go wrong, so many pieces missing, and so much uncertainty. I realized that I would have camouflaged my doubts and fears by pointing out the deficiencies of the situation.  If I pointed out what was lacking, maybe no one would notice what I was lacking. Instead, I would set the ransom high and demand that EVERYTHING be certain before I stepped forward.  Certain I had the right reseources, furniture, classroom, etc. I realized that when faced with uncertainty, it wasn’t easy to feel hopeful and imagine the possible. It was scary to start from abundance.

In the weeks to come, I looked closely for more examples of abundance. I heard it when teachers were collaborating and saying: yes, let’s try that! I saw it when students had the time and space to fully share their ideas and thoughts. I felt it when the pace of the class was the same as that of authentic relationships. It didn’t look like I thought it might. It looked messy, and noisy, unplanned, and a bit disorganized. It looked like diving in to the deep end and having fun. It felt like letting go of fear, embracing hope, and stepping into the abundance of the possible.

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Scarcity is the “never enough” problem.  The word scarce is from the Old Norman French scars, meaning “restricted in quantity” (c. 1300). Scarcity thrives in a culture where everyone is hyper-aware of lack.  Everything from safety and love to money and resources feels restricted and lacking.  We spend inordinate amounts of time calculating how much we have, want, and don’t have, and how much everyone else has, needs, and wants. ~Brene Brown

 

 

 

Putting Down the Busy Badge

busy
    “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life.”
                                                                                                          ~Mary Oliver

It starts slowly. At first you don’t even notice it, and in a funny way, it actually feels good. You feel fulfilled, you feel valued, and let’s face it, you feel important.

I am busy!!! Busy, busy, busy!! Doing very important things. LOOK AT ME GOOOOOO…..

At first, you only wear your badge at work. But it’s so hard to take off darn it!  So, you wear it home for dinner (no one will notice).

But the clasp somehow starts to pierce through your sleep and you wake up in the middle of the night with it on. Eventually, you wake up and busy is already shouting orders at you in the early morning.  You start wearing the badge 24 hours a day.

Busy has become a way of life.

Then one day. All of sudden. Out of nowhere.
The bottom drops out. You get sick or a family member becomes ill, or you wake up one day and realize that you have hollowed out. The busy badge needs to be paid for and the cost is your inspiration and passion.  You own the badge but you feel flat.

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For me, it was a series of events that caused me to look at my badge a little closer.
Our family dog passed away and the badge felt I should get busy right away. But I just couldn’t.
My husband ran into serious health problems and I thought I might lose him. Busy badge was understanding, for a while. But it demanded I make up for the lost time.  I felt guilt for needing to be away.
When I took the badge off to spend time with my dad for his 80th birthday, I felt the guilt of slowing down to be fully present in the moments of his life. Yet, I also felt the incredible guilt of all the lost moments. The moments I had spent polishing my badge. The moments I had spent admiring its brilliance.

But still. I felt the badge was worth it. Sure it was a bit tarnished, but it is a great badge to have!!

Finally.

I fell down the stairs rushing to work one day. “I have to get to work NOW!!”
My phone was in one hand and my coffee cup in the other (because coffee helps you wear that shiny badge ALL day). I rode my left side down the stairs because I was no longer in the moment. I was too busy thinking of all things I needed to do that day.

Busted. I was busted. Wide open. And it hurt. Not just my shoulder, but my heart and how I fallen for this false prophet. Busier wouldn’t make me happier, healthier, or more loved. Busy had asked me to disconnect from myself and from those I loved.  I had complied.

I wish I had an easy fix answer. For me, it was riding on my left side down the stairs in the service of speed. Since then I have had some small personal epiphanies.  I share these here for what they are worth:

  1. Savor the small wonders of each day – It might be the sunrise as you drive to work, or lighting candles for dinner, or watching your kids play. Look for and find those small moments of absolute wonder. Make note, savour, and soak these up. These moments matter.
  2. Really listen – When someone speaks, let your heart crack open and be in the moment with them and for them. What are they saying? What is their perspective? What do they need in this moment? Are you there for them or are you there for yourself?
  3. Find a space you feel free – Notice where and when you feel outside of the domain of busy. For me it is outside. Whether it is walking or snowshoeing, I feel no pressure from busy when I am out in nature.  Find this place and go there regularly.
  4. Cultivate an inner life – Spend time reading, writing, thinking, and contemplating.  Develop your inner life as you might cultivate a garden.
  5. Notice yourself – After I fell down the stairs, I went for many chiropractor and massage appointments. These moments forced me to realize I had previously ignored myself.  Stop every once in a while to notice how you are feeling. Are you clenching your jaw, are your shoulders up in your ears, are you breathing deeply?

What are you going to do with your one precious life?