The International Day Of Peace: September 21, 2014

With the International Day Of Peace fast approaching, September 21, 2014, we, as teachers and parents, neighbors and workers, are challenged to assess our own personal efforts on behalf of peace. Peace in so very many ways is a deliberate choice to be others-centered, patient, gentle, thoughtful, compassionate, tender-hearted, and kind. Peace cannot live well in a place where the air is thick and angry with loud polarizing dogmatic opinions which seem to so quickly become fiercely held narrowly scoped self-serving demands. Louder and louder we get in our attempt to make our point over the ever growing cacophony of everyone else attempting to do the same. Louder and louder the opinionated roar deafens and frustrates and alienates and infuriates, until the pitchforks appear and threaten, and then the strongest arm becomes the voice that silences the rest. Pointless. Fruitless. Hate-evoking. No. This cannot be the way we live or teach our children to live. To come together under a peaceful umbrella and then play nicely together in the sandbox of life, we need to reach and see beyond ourselves and listen to our neighbors. We can disagree and still be loving and respectful. Despite your politics, your sports teams, your perspective on issues and headlines, at the heart of you is your heart; precious, unique, valued, priceless. You are uniquely gifted and critically important. So too is your neighbor. Peace begins by turning the volume down, laying the opinions aside, turning the selfishness off,  and loving your neighbor. It's time.  

Oh, And Another Thing On Metrics

Lessons Learned

While Still On The Soapbox Of Metrics…

One of the most significant outages of metrics driven educational accountability, as I see it, is the absence of time for relational connection to the students.  There simply are not enough hours in the school day to accommodate all of the paperwork that needs to be accomplished in terms of a variety of assessments, high-stakes testing with endless prep for that, and documentation on each issue of each student so that suitable amounts of paper trails can cover every measurable aspect. Information is not the enemy, however. We have a tendency towards the extreme, and that is the problem.  The “go big or go home” mentality which drives our culture and permeates our every moment, pushes and extends the wide-sweeping swing of the pendulum of trends to new extremes that readily enslave us all. We seem to have lost all sense of moderation and balance and have traded that for superlative amounts of the next new-fangled idea, whatever that may be. Excessive, obsessive amounts of metrics fastidiously gathered for the purposes of something that may or may not be working relative to educating students successfully is fast becoming ridiculous. And what has been traded for the boxes full of pointless data which will sit and ultimately become kindling for the fire resulting from the spark of tomorrow’s next theory? Show and tell has been traded.  Arts have been traded. Field trips and special curiosity-driven projects have been traded.  PE, an extra recess and normal-length lunch hours have been traded. All things that make education real and human and meaningful and relatable have been traded. That is a gargantuanly pricey trade. The numbers have added little besides significant stress and have taken beauty and connection. In thirty years of teaching, I have sadly witnessed exponentially increasing numbers of relational breakdowns all around but beginning with families. Kids are resilient is what the experts all say and it’s true to a certain extent but it is not the whole story. Scars. Fear. Pain. Insecurity.  And on and on. These are the rest of the story. These are what students carry to the classroom, to recess, to the nurse’s office. These are the things that tummy aches are made of. These are the things that stir in bullies. These are the things that result in high distractibility and disengagement.  These things hurt deeply and permanently and affect every single aspect of school. These things are not documented alongside reading scores, but they influence every assessment.  All of the traded elements mentioned above provide balm for the deep hurts such as these, and without them our burdened children merely go superficially through educational motions. To talk, to interact, to share, to relate, to express, to create, these are meaning-making attributes of education that inspire engagement and foster affirmation that in turn will encourage confidence and desire to discover.  Swing pendulum, swing away from the numbers that allow decision-makers to enthusiastically pat one another on the back, and instead swing toward those deep things that honestly reach and nurture students. We yearn for connection; it’s a human need, and it cannot be extracted from educating children without suffering an unfathomable price.  We are there.     

An Unhealthy Metrics Obsession.

Lessons Learned

Ughhhhh Stop With The Obsessive Metrics Gathering Already!

In education today, as well as in most other areas, it all comes down to this; numbers. Scores. Metrics. Performance Data. These numbers drive funding, define success, delineate projections, and determine accountability for students, teachers, school districts, and states. As numbers are crunched, compared, and evaluated on flow charts and bar graphs presented in large beige-colored conference rooms to suit-clad metrics philosophers, perhaps it is easy to forget that these numbers represent precious, unique children filled with brilliant dreams, gifts, and wonder, anxious to explore the world and imagine and discover answers to challenging questions. States, districts, teachers, and students are staggering under the inscrutable weight of cold, hard, continuous metric achievement, which unquestionably demands the classroom focus to be statistical. The highly-pressured demands of this have been known to  result in unethical choices made in survival-type desperation. Unfortunately, although true learning cannot be quantified as such nor contained in neat statistical, numerical boxes, it seems it has become reduced to this very thing. Teaching to the test leads not to true learning. Teaching to the test inspires no imaginative and possibility-filled divergent thinking, clever invention, or mind wandering creativity. Teaching to the test opens no new windows of discovery, but rather denotes a more “shoveling in of information” style of fact dissemination. As there must be some sort of balance in all things in life, there appears to be no balance in this now. The metrics pendulum has swung to an unhealthy, inappropriate extreme with respect to educating our children and is in dire need of honest, immediate scrutiny and re-prioritization if we are to truly nurture and nourish tomorrow’s hope.

Build Bridges Of Collaboration And Watch Cities Grow Stronger And More Kind

Lessons Learned

Celebrate Your Hometown

Forbes Magazine has more than once listed Rockford as being among the most violent cities in America in addition to other equally unflattering distinctions. But to us it’s home. It may not be perfect but there is a tremendous lot of good here, and it is all of this good that we focused on when we wrote a musical play about Rockford’s story. We engaged the support and participation of more than 20 local organizations as we planned this project known as “Hometown History.” It became a grand celebration of Rockford’s story, our shared story, for which our Mayor issued a proclamation. We raised money so that all District 205  3^rd graders could be transported to the stunning Coronado Theater to see and hear our shared story free of charge. The entire event felt like a huge hug for our city and certainly served as a step toward building bridges of hope and trust between neighbors. This big, affirming collaborative event received a Mayor's Arts Award for Cultural Event of the Year, and that is a credit to all of the countless  neighbors with willing hands who gathered their hearts and raised their voices in a resounding “Yes” to our city. This event was not a one shot deal, however; for there will be more and more until the bridges of collaboration and hope and trust out-number the walls of fear and despair that divide and isolate us and cause us to concede to Forbes. What do they know? They see numbers, we see neighbors.

The Gift No One Asks For But Everyone Wants

Lessons Learned

Always In Season

Bridges connect east to west, uptown to downtown, north to south, city to city, and because of these bridges, we can easily cross one side to the other.  This is significant. Our cities today are under siege from a desperation, a loneliness, a despair that originates in hopelessness and chronic dysfunction and culminates in a fear-wrapped paralysis that can no longer see possibility. Our families today are under siege from a materialistic world that paints a spectacular mirage of how successful life ought to look, despite the fact that the closer one steps toward that lie, the more one horrifically realizes that it is not there.  So the pace is quickened, the dial on the treadmill is turned exponentially up, blinders are donned in hopes that faster and more focused can conjure OZ. It cannot. We wallow in the frustration of our delusion and live angrily because what the world tells us we want, we cannot have. Our schools today are under siege from a bureaucratic system so heavily laden with infinite, infernal paperwork, that the attempted fulfillment of our metrics obsession which is theoretically designed to enhance individualized instruction, does in fact consume an inordinate amount of prime, meaningful, relational, teachable time, leaving our students more stressed with little to no academic gain.  Our lives are under siege so we build walls and live alone. We give up.  We strike out at those around us and weep quietly in the darkness.  This is all wrong. Our lives are designed to be lived relationally, in community, sharing hearts and gifts and hope one life to another. Our hands are designed for reaching and helping not hoarding and hiding. We need each other. We need more bridges. Bridges to connect east to west, uptown to downtown, north to south, heart to heart in our cities, our families, our schools, and every aspect of our lives. Within our mirrored walls we see only ourselves and, truth be told, we do not like what we see. It’s selfish. We need us. We need bridges. We need to look out, reach out, for then we will find out that in serving and caring and connecting, we ourselves are blessed. We all fully know that a far deeper satisfaction is felt in giving a gift than in receiving a gift. The thing is, each life is packed with gifts, heart gifts that cost nothing to give yet mean everything to receive. The gifts of time, of compassion, of gentleness, of listening, of smiling, of helping, of patience, of generosity, of forgiveness, of willingness, of mercy; these gifts and so many like them cost little to nothing but have the strength and power to change a life, to balm a wound, to heal a pain, to offer hope. These gifts are bridges, the bridges needed by our cities, our families, our schools, and by all of us. As giving a gift is always in season, perhaps this season we need to consider the gift of a bridge.

Music Builds Community

Lessons Learned

Music Builds Community

Six languages in one first grade classroom.  Swedish. Greek. Japanese. Afganistan. Spanish. English.  Our hope was to teach them all to read.  Our priority was to build a community, to communicate, but the first few days of school made that priority seem quite remote and that hope nearly impossible.  We had no means by which to connect and our only apparent common ground right then was that we shared a classroom, a cold, lonely one at that. After lunch each day, we had a twenty minute window of time during which we played acoustic instrumental music, and the students were encouraged to either look at a picture book, quietly draw a picture, or simply relax and listen to the music. Surprisingly, most students opted to listen to the music. It was calm, soothing, peaceful, and biased toward no one language. Each mind processes music in its own language.  Perhaps music held a key. We wrote a song about counting to ten. We asked each student to count to ten in his or her primary language, which we phonetically wrote down.  We all learned how to count to ten in each of our class languages with great and enthusiastic help from each other. It was a spectacular song, made exponentially better by the robust participation and growing  esprit de corps of our classroom community.  By sharing a little piece of each other’s language, we were able to share a little piece of each other’s heart.  Our community grew. Our trust grew. Our learning grew. We became readers.  We became friends. We shared a song.

In Community, We Serve And We Care

Lessons Learned

A Neighborly Act Begins With Me Reaching Beyond Myself

The notice on the bulletin board at the apartment said blind-deaf student needing assistance with textbook transcription and basic daily life skill help, and on the bottom of the notice were several tear-off phone numbers. None had been taken. Someone out there needed help, but who was I to volunteer? I didn’t know anything about blindness, or deafness, much less both. What could I do? How could I possibly offer any help? I didn’t tear off a phone number either and proceeded to go about my day. It troubled me, though. A student needed some help, and I was hoping to be a teacher. I did have some time. I could probably learn.  I went back, took a phone number, and called. We met, I learned how to help, we became good friends, and my life was richly blessed from this great opportunity to serve. It is well known that those who serve are doubly blessed. A willing heart is all it takes to serve, and a willing heart can be of any age.  My elementary age students understand well about giving, sharing, and serving; it is built into our curriculum. Service leads to compassion. For our world to heal, our cities to heal, our families to heal, and our hearts to heal, we must deny the selfish eyes-on-me mentality and look outward recognizing the need all around, for in lifting another up our own heart is blessed. What can I do; I am just a mom, just a teacher, just a worker, just an ordinary neighbor, just a student. What can I do; I am just a kid. One person with a willing heart can do a lot. One person with a willing heart can change the world for another person.  Why is teaching and modeling this not a higher priority? Will higher test scores or greater compassion be more beneficial to the world?

Urban Community To Rural Community; The Need Remains.

Lessons Learned

Moving To The Country

We were city kids. We lived about twenty blocks from Lambeau Field, to be exact. We walked to school, biked around the block on  straight flat sidewalks, played kick-the-can with all of the tons of neighbor kids rambunctiously and delightfully swarming the area, regularly ran very profitable lemonade stands, and trick or treated and Christmas caroled door to door at a hundred very welcoming, close-at-hand doors. Then we moved. Twenty-five acres of rolling hills, wildlife-filled ravines, rows and rows of planted oats, alfalfa, and corn, endless sky with endless stars at night, and the sounds of farm animals going about their days. From paradise to paradise.  Urban to rural. Crowded, noisy and energized to spacious, still and free. Loved both worlds, but especially loved the new one. The gentle farmer across the road became our unknowing teacher of textbook-transcending lessons. In his faithful living, working, caring, patience, he shared the pure beauty of simplicity and selflessness. He never said much, but his living said it all. He and his dear wife never really officially invited us city-slicker kids to serve as slightly incompetent but ever so enthusiastically willing farmhands, yet every day in the summer to his farm we would race to offer our hands. And every day, his nod and his big smile said come on in. During those precious summers we learned about life and death, the passing of seasons, planting and reaping, making do, improvising, waiting expectantly, and countless life-impacting lessons as deep and rich as the good soil itself. Farming is a life of tremendous faith and unshakable optimism; the sun will return to warm and light the earth each morning, and spring, at the appointed time, will always awaken and emerge from under the silent blanket of winter. Under the wise farmer’s tutelage, these city kids became country kids.

The Need For Community.

Lessons Learned

Time To Check In On The Neighbors

Life is fast. Activities are many. Involvements and commitments fill our calendars. Squeeze it in, pack it in, as much and as quickly as humanly possible. Often times far from families. Faster. Faster. Faster. Until in exhaustion from all of our running we realize that we have forgotten to breathe. Breathe. What are we running for? What are we running from? Can we really ever keep up with or catch up to the Jonses? What happened to chatting over the garden fence with the neighbors? Life happens in a neighborhood.  From walks around the block with strollers to training-wheel bicycles wobbily being ridden on the sidewalks, from trick or treating to selling wrapping for school, from borrowing a cup of sugar to sharing a bag full of tomatoes, from watching the house next door until the family returns from vacation to bringing over a meal when a tragedy has struck, from searching together for a lost dog to working together to drag out a fallen branch, from borrowing a cool sports car for prom to giving someone a ride to the hospital, life happens in a neighborhood. We need each other. We need to be connected. We need to belong. Children need this, we all need this. We can set a head-spinning pace and race with all we are worth to keep up with ourselves, but at the end of the day does the spoil outweigh the fatigue? What would it mean, what would it look like to occasionally jump off the merry-go-round and instead linger over the garden fence to catch up with the neighbors, to make a connection, to engage friendship?  The human heart was made to be in relationship and yet we run disengaged keeping our empty distance. Not so in our neighborhood. We made a different choice here.   Our neighborhood, although a hodge-podge collection of individuals in every way,  is modest and connected, generous and attentive, and together we laugh and share and grow up. Together we are stronger. Together we are better. Together we are blessed. Perhaps it is time to stop running and check on the neighbors.

The Gift Of A Bridge

Lessons Learned…

The Gift Of A Bridge

Bridges connect east to west, uptown to downtown, north to south, city to city, and because of these bridges, we can easily cross one side to the other.  This is significant. Our cities today are under siege from a desperation, a loneliness, a despair that originates in hopelessness and chronic dysfunction and culminates in a fear-wrapped paralysis that can no longer see possibility. Our families today are under siege from a materialistic world that paints a spectacular mirage of how successful life ought to look, despite the fact that the closer one steps toward that lie, the more one horrifically realizes that it is not there.  So the pace is quickened, the dial on the treadmill is turned exponentially up, blinders are donned in hopes that faster and more focused can conjure OZ. It cannot. We wallow in the frustration of our delusion and live angrily because what the world tells us we want, we cannot have. Our schools today are under siege from a bureaucratic system so heavily laden with infinite, infernal paperwork, that the attempted fulfillment of our metrics obsession which is theoretically designed to enhance individualized instruction, does in fact consume an inordinate amount of prime, meaningful, relational, teachable time, leaving our students more stressed with little to no academic gain.  Our lives are under siege so we build walls and live alone. We give up.  We strike out at those around us and weep quietly in the darkness.  This is all wrong. Our lives are designed to be lived relationally, in community, sharing hearts and gifts and hope one life to another. Our hands are designed for reaching and helping not hoarding and hiding. We need each other. We need more bridges. Bridges to connect east to west, uptown to downtown, north to south, heart to heart in our cities, our families, our schools, and every aspect of our lives. Within our mirrored walls we see only ourselves and, truth be told, we do not like what we see. It’s selfish. We need us. We need bridges. We need to look out, reach out, for then we will find out that in serving and caring and connecting, we ourselves are blessed. We all fully know that a far deeper satisfaction is felt in giving a gift than in receiving a gift. The thing is, each life is packed with gifts, heart gifts that cost nothing to give yet mean everything to receive. The gifts of time, of compassion, of gentleness, of listening, of smiling, of helping, of patience, of generosity, of forgiveness, of willingness, of mercy; these gifts and so many like them cost little to nothing but have the strength and power to change a life, to balm a wound, to heal a pain, to offer hope. These gifts are bridges, the bridges needed by our cities, our families, our schools, and by all of us. This precious holiday, perhaps we need to consider the gift of a bridge.

Stronger Together Culmination...

Lessons Learned...

Collaboration Celebration Song

Here is the original song we shared with our city as together we celebrated all that is fine and excellent and strong about our hometown:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CINEqZGPyQ

Stronger Together 5 And Final...

Lessons Learned…

Collaboration 5 and Final

Interviews. Rehearsals. Articles. Rehearsals. Meetings. Rehearsals.  A growing list of enthusiastic collaborators. Photographs capturing stunning local historic structures, gorgeous local settings, and familiar hometown images were snapped and recorded on postcards to share.  A mayoral proclamation acknowledging and celebrating the special event was declared. Funds were raised to transport all of the city’s third grade students to the beautiful theater. Funds were raised to rent the theater and for all other involved expenses. New, strong friendships were made as elbows were linked in support of our city and our story. Together we worked for a common good. Together we learned. Together we celebrated.  And everyone was proud of the gifts they brought to our “city hug,” and rightly so.  The beautiful event came and went with all of the pomp and circumstance necessary to lift local hearts and spirits, if even for just a brief shining moment. The event received the Mayor’s Arts Award of Cultural Collaborative Event of the Year; a tremendous honor truly to be shared by countless participating neighbors. The greatest honor, though, was in being a part of the passion which fueled the collaborative efforts.  We did something; we had to do something.  But change, the long-term sort of change that truly bumps one off Forbes list, will require an ongoing stream of bridge-building collaborative events and the ensuing relational blessings.  Friendships grow. Trust grows.  Compassion grows.  Fear diminishes. Walls come down as bridges go up.  And cities can heal. They can. Together we are stronger. Together we are better.

Stronger Together 4...

Lessons Learned…

Collaboration 4

The biggest, oldest, grandest theater in town had to be the venue for the sharing of our story. All of the city’s third grade students would be the invited VIPs. Specialist artists would be engaged. Ethnic clubs would be encouraged to participate. Students from two very culturally  different schools would collaborate to create and perform an original piece together under the inspiring direction of a very loved, local, gifted, celebrity artist/educator. An  art contest. An essay contest.  An elite orchestral ensemble of local students performing.  A film of the local dance company performing an original dance to an original song beautifully  performed through the breath-taking  hallways and stairways of the biggest, oldest, grandest theater in town. A local documentary filmmaker creatively chronicling the entire extravaganza. The mayor would be there. Local movers and shakers would be there alongside parents, grandparents, and neighbors of each and every performer. Museums, organizations, and visitors to our city would all be invited to hear, learn, and celebrate our strong shared story. But funding? All ideas need a bit of help to move them to action. Through countless meetings, contacts, and conversations, extremely generous contributions were made, affirming the idea and propelling it forward.  A fire of excitement and pride and goodwill was stirring and growing within our hurting community.  Some walls were coming down as the bridges of collaboration were beginning to span from heart to heart. Something good was happening.  To be continued…

Stronger Together 3...

Lessons Learned…

Collaboration 3

Writing a musical about the story of our city starts with reading; a gargantuan amount of reading.  Articles, books, online sources, photo journals, and archival museum diaries highlight the readings, all of which are interspersed with formal interviews, casual conversations, and visits to local historic sites. Meaningful, significant, informational treasure is all around town waiting to be recognized and given voice. Countless events and characters emerge and are set upon a timeline as the readings bring shape to the story of our hometown. The tone of the events and the feelings of the characters determine the color of the songs to be written, for the waves of human emotion become the musicality of the story. The story called home. Although hours and hours and hours and hours of time are invested in this creative retelling, this still remains just one small artist’s simple rendition of a grand and important story that will ultimately need many voices in many different ways retelling, reminding, and refreshing so that this critical story, our shared story, our common ground can be remembered, celebrated, and passed forward to bring its strength to those who will be the hope. This piece of the collaborative project will be rehearsed until perfected, while other exciting, creative pieces are being imagined and enacted all over town, all preparing to come together for a beautiful event that will hug our city. With all creative pieces bubbling in a full boil, all other collaborative pieces continue meeting and gathering numbers as further details of the hug are tended. To be continued…

Stronger Together 2

Lessons Learned…

Collaboration 2

How does it look to hug a city? How should it look? It seems somehow that despair is derived from a place of painful loss, and from this perspective, our city has suffered tremendous economic hardship in the loss of jobs due to the loss of large anchor corporations in fairly recent years. In our economic loss, we have suffered a severe identity crisis and a crushing blow to our historically defining independent spirit. Floundering in this place of loss, where violence easily erupts, we have been swept to our corners in fear. A hug. In brainstorming “a hug” for this city, we determined it could resemble an identity reaffirmation through a retelling of our city’s story, our shared story, and a reminder of the strong common ground upon which we all stand right now. Together. United.  A  shared story depicting our strong, proud past for all to hear, remember and claim would be the starting place around which we would invite neighbors to bring their creativities, ideas, and passions to help build our large city-wide celebratory hug. We would research and write an original musical about our city’s story, rehearse it with our students, and then engage many others in the community to lend their gifts to strengthen our hug. We had to start somewhere and we determined to start here.  To be continued…

Stronger Together...

Lessons Learned…

Collaboration 1

The unflattering and very disheartening distinction by Forbes Magazine as being among the top contenders for Most Violent City In The US was the topic of discussion over lunch at an outside café with a good friend.  We, just a couple of ordinary teachers from a nearby elementary school, talked passionately about this hurting city which was the home to much excellence and a home we loved. As with all frustrating luncheon topics on the discussion docket, denial is an expected and frequent response, as is anger, and general complaining, but not one of these responses “does anything”  other than drive up blood pressure and perpetuate negativism. Not good enough. We determined right then to “do something” to bring a lift, a smile, a hug to this, our hometown which was tangled in a dark despair not unknown to countless hometowns these days. We determined right then to gather a local team of optimists, believers, neighbors and other such enthusiastic, collaborating, hometown helpers who would willingly, cheerfully work alongside us to build bridges of hope and trust into the corners of this beloved, beleaguered community. We determined right then that any effort brought forth in good faith to serve our neighbors was worth the try.  We determined that together we could be stronger, together we could be better, and that together we could begin to chip away at the paralyzing, isolating fear that dwells in the wake of violence.  Collaboration held a key. To be continued…