Thoughts on Life Inside and Outside of Room 26
Congratulations, Mum!10/30/2016 When I realized that my mum was a teacher, I was in high school. Before this she WAS my teacher, but I clearly recall the moment, two years after she was my teacher, when it became clear to me: “Yes. Yes, she is a teacher.”
Mum, you may recall this moment very differently, time and age alter our memories of events sometimes, but this is how I knew that my mum was a teacher. I was in high school, in the 1980’s when music was considerably better than what we have now, and fashion was decidedly worse. I was given a homework assignment to explicate a sonnet by John Milton entitled, “On His Blindness.” I was furious. I did not get it. I just didn’t get it. Clearly exasperated with my lack of effort, mum was not having it. She picked up two pencils and I slammed the offending sonnet to the table in the kitchen. We sat, heads bent together and she showed me how important working on poetry is. How poetry uses the least amount of words to say the biggest things. How taking the time to honour a poem can enrich our lives, and in some cases, change them. When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker and present My true account, lest he returning chide; "Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?" I fondly ask. But Patience to prevent That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed -- And post o'er land and ocean without rest: They also serve who only stand and wait. There is a metaphor for today in the last line of this poem: “They also serve who only stand and wait.” Mum, you have been working in the field of teaching for a long, long time. You have been serving and serving and serving. You have never had time to stand and wait. So now, it is your turn to do your things, to stand and wait until a spirit of adventure leads you to the ideas and learning that you have been saving for this time. Please, let’s raise our glasses, fictional and non-fictional, to our Mary: wife, mother, friend, teacher, who can now stand and wait for what is to come. Happy Retirement Mum and thank you for being my teacher, still and always.
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Learning and Change Through Fear...8/23/2013 To use fear as the friend it is, we must retrain and reprogram ourselves. We must persistently and convincingly tell ourselves that the fear is here–with its gift of energy and heightened awareness–so we can do our best and learn the most in the new situation. In July, I learned a little bit about fear. To hear that the building where I proudly work was labeled as it was: "Priority" put a bit of fear in me. We talked a little bit about fear today with our Year One Research Cohort at the University of Toronto (photos from that Professional Development can be seen below). We considered our fears: fear of change; fear of letting go; fear of not being in charge. These are some of the challenges of teacher ownership, of lesson creation and of my teacher's heart. Creating, planning and sharing lessons with students is something that I take pride in at work. The work of teaching is not complete when I have created a lesson, but after we work through the ideas and concepts together, and we reflect on how it went. A lesson is like a growing thing. After the lesson is used initially, it grows, changes; it goes through the necessary metamorphosis to better serve us all, the next time I teach it. When I think about changing that process, changing my focus, and doing it for and about a different purpose than deep and meaningful learning, I become, ultimately, afraid. Fear is paralyzing. I think that after all of the thinking about fear, it becomes very clear that I'm afraid to fail. "Fear of Failure" makes me think about the actions that this sparks: none. I won't act because I'm afraid to fail. I think in this regard, I am not much different than many other teachers who take their teaching very personally. I am firmly planted in the idea that my work is worth something, and that I am somewhat good at what I do. Now, a fear has alighted in my school, and my first response is disbelief and anger. Next I find myself incredulous. The lack of honest and forthright communication from all of the assigning parties brought about my next feeling: helplessness. Finally, I come to a place of firm determination: Let's do this thing. I changed my entire classroom when the Common Core was imposed by the assigning parties, and I can do it again. This gloomy, end-of-the-world announcement will not dictate a similar response in me. Each day I tell myself that, with "energy and heightened awareness" I can "do my best, and learn the most in the new situation." I'm ready to help in any way that I can with Fear by my side to "spur the sides of my intent." "Why thou, loss upon loss! ... and no satisfaction, no revenge. Nor no ill luck stirring but what lights o' my shoulders, no sighs but o' my breathing, no tears but o' my shedding." I feel as though I was just here. I was just in this place of sorrow, of death, and confusion. I lost the Principal who hired and inspired me for years in January (see prior blog entry) This loss is a loss so powerful, so painful, so shocking and profound it has taken my breath away for days; I am still not fully breathing. I am waiting to hear that it was announced in error; they were wrong; the system broke and there was a mistake made. I'm waiting for that call, that email, that announcement. I cannot wrap my mind or my heart around this event of profound loss. I am yet numb.
As a teacher, I am also a learner. This teacher, this hallway neighbor, this colleague and friend of 25 years taught me, with her unique and powerful ways:
TravelTrace...5/5/2013 Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends. Why do I travel to the UK? Books. English. Culture. Heritage. Tea.
Literature When I was growing up in Vancouver, British Columbia [there's a hint there, even] I studied primarily British Literature. All through high school my courses focused on writers from the UK - Wm. Shakespeare, Johnathan Swift, Jane Austin, Charles Dickens, H. G. Wells, Emily and Charlotte Bronte, Robert Louis Stevenson, Rudyard Kipling, and Arthur Conan Doyle. Then, there are the poets: Tennyson, Browning, Chaucer, Milton, Pope, Blake. These were my stories. The only North American writers that I ever encountered were famed Canadian L. M. Montgomery who graciously penned Anne of Green Gables and Margaret Atwood, who wrote my favorite Alias Grace and very popular The Handmaid's Tale. After living in the imaginations of these UK writers, it is always a wonder for me to visit their lands, and walk where they did. I can share this anecdotally: The first time I was in Canterbury Cathedral, I was 17 years old. I knew that St. Thomas Becket was murdered there, and some of the history, and was awed at the size and scope of the place. After teaching Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales for years, I went there with another English teacher and 11 students. I was amazed, silenced, and profoundly thankful for the opportunity to visit once again; what an extraordinary place. Language I really enjoy traveling to Britain because I don't have to worry about not speaking the lanugage. I have a little French - studied through my senior year in Canada - but it gets rough when I don't get to practice it regularly. It takes the edge off of travel like nothing else can. Culture and Heritage, and Tea My parents, my family, are Canadian. My mum was born and raised - for her youngest years - in The Netherlands. Her family fled the war and arrived in Canada when she was a young school girl. My father grew up on a farm in Alberta, Canada. We all share a history in Holland, and on one of our journeys, mum and I went to her childhood home. Although I grew up within five minutes of the US boarder crossing, I never had any strong ties to the US or this history here. I always thought of myself, and still do, as a Canadian: a tea drinking, Britain loving, sonnet knowing, outside dwelling, Union Jack loving, Royal Family watching kinda girl. Why the UK? I love the UK. I love that there is a City of London, inside of London. I love that Henry VIII lived in London, and his daughters, the queens Mary I and Elizabeth I. I love Princess Diana. I love the Thames as an old highway. I love the pinstripes, the tea and shortbread; a pint with some chips and a chat after work, as seen here. I love that the culture is close to what I know, but has evolved so much more, from so long ago. That is why I go. This Is Just To Say...5/1/2013 This above all: to thine ownself be true, When I look at my students and think about saying goodbye, I struggle for something to share that they will remember. My senior courses are student focused and literature driven, so it seems an odd ending for me to be the focus of anything at the end. I do, though, want to say poignant things to them, to make them pause in this ending, this beginning, and remember the wisdom of Shakespeare.
Throughout our time together we endeavor to prove that Shakespeare, though "old and overdone" is relevant and is even magic to our own culture and experiences. He writes of love, loss, joy, kindness, relevance, disgust, progress, bigotry, gentleness, courage, and any number of things that my community of learners {myself included} is experiencing or will experience in the years ahead. When I was in high school Shakespeare's work was profound, powerful, distant. As a teaching adult, his words are now, here, and present. I had to fight for this course to run, with someone who said "Why bother with Shakespeare, he's not relevant, he's too old fashioned and kids don't relate to him anymore. I never read it in school, so why put these kids through that?" I give thanks to that person for saying those words, as they drive me to kindle the fire of the students in my classroom to recognize the Bard as a constant presence and influence. The stories in his folio match the experiences of the students that I teach each day, and it is uplifting and joyous to know that, despite our advanced age of technology and learning, we still, at the core, are a community of humanity. We celebrate, we sorrow, we rejoice, we mourn, we dance, we pontificate, we sing and we belong to the human race. That is what William Shakespeare wanted us to feel, even now, hundreds of years after his plays were 'played'; and we do. When I teach speeches, I ask that my scholars color each sentence, so as not to be fooled by lines. I did that here. I chose the speech of old Polonius to his son, Laetres, as he prepares to begin his scholarly endeavors. A caring adult's advice for a young person, leaving home, and entering the world. I hope they know that they can come home to EK and know that they are supported, cared for, loved. Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame! The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail And you are stayed for. There, my blessing with thee. And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportioned thought his act. Be thou familiar but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel, But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, Bear ’t that th' opposèd may beware of thee. Give every man thy ear but few thy voice. Take each man’s censure but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not expressed in fancy—rich, not gaudy, For the apparel oft proclaims the man, And they in France of the best rank and station Are of a most select and generous chief in that. Neither a borrower nor a lender be, For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Farewell. My blessing season this in thee. "Don’t say what you’re thinking, and don’t be too quick to act on what you think. Be friendly to people but don’t overdo it. Once you’ve tested out your friends and found them trustworthy, hold onto them. But don’t waste your time shaking hands with every new guy you meet. Don’t be quick to pick a fight, but once you’re in one, hold your own. Listen to many people, but talk to few. Hear everyone’s opinion, but reserve your judgment. Spend all you can afford on clothes, but make sure they’re quality, not flashy, since clothes make the man—which is doubly true in France. Don’t borrow money and don’t lend it, since when you lend to a friend, you often lose the friendship as well as the money, and borrowing turns a person into a spendthrift. And, above all, be true to yourself. Then you won’t be false to anybody else" (Crowther). Crowther, John, ed. “No Fear Hamlet.” SparkNotes.com. SparkNotes LLC. 2005. Web. 12 Apr. 2013. In the Dark Quiet Night, A Light4/11/2013 "And so may a slow I first heard John O'Donohue read his own poetry on NPR's radio program called "Speaking Of Faith" [now titled "On Being"] hosted by Krista TIppett. Deep in the night I was awakened by my 2 month old daughter, and as I comforted her, I listened to "The Inner Landscape of Beauty," quietly, on the radio. That night, in the darkness of that room, I became a listener and a reader of this quiet Irish poet and his wise words. My mum says that poetry is the fastest way to get your most powerful ideas out. This is certainly that, for me, when I read and am comforted by this poetry. By clicking on the title of the poem below, you can hear O'Donohue read it himself.
This last year, in April 2012, one of my students lost his mum, his second parent lost to disease. I was overwhelmed; for him, for her. The thought of leaving the unfinished business of a teenaged boy was not something that I could quite fathom. My mind could only see grief and sorrow and even rage and terror. Thinking about her loss made me shudder. What would I say to my boy if I were called away? Seeing the larger picture now that I am 12 months distanced from the loss, makes me wonder what other secrets walk into my trimester classroom. What wars fought? What mountains climbed? What terror lurks? It is grounding to remember, yea, to be reminded, that I am a teacher-learner in a community of humanity. I am a lover of English, words, ideas, and stories, but ultimately, I am a part of a human community. "Bannacht" ["Blessing"] On the day when The weight deadens On your shoulders And you stumble, May the clay dance To balance you. And when your eyes Freeze behind The grey window And the ghost of loss Gets into you, May a flock of colours, Indigo, red, green And azure blue, Come to awaken in you A meadow of delight. When the canvas frays In the currach of thought And a stain of ocean Blackens beneath you, May there come across the waters A path of yellow moonlight To bring you safely home. May the nourishment of the earth be yours, May the clarity of light be yours, May the fluency of the ocean be yours, May the protection of the ancestors be yours. And so may a slow Wind work these words Of love around you, An invisible cloak To mind your life. “A New Year Blessing” Benedictus (To Bless The Space Between Us) For Courage When the light around you lessens And your thoughts darken until Your body feels fear turn Cold as a stone inside, When you find yourself bereft Of any belief in yourself And all you unknowingly Leaned on has fallen, When one voice commands Your whole heart And it is raven dark, Steady yourself and see That it is your own thinking That darkens your world, Search and you will find A diamond-thought of light, Know that you are not alone And that this darkness has purpose; Gradually it will school your eyes To find the one gift your life requires Hidden within this night-corner. Invoke the learning Of every suffering You have suffered. Close your eyes. Gather your kindling About your heart To create one spark. That is all you need To nourish the flame That will cleanse the dark Of its weight of festered fear. A new confidence will come alive To urge you toward higher ground Where your imagination will learn to engage difficulty As its most rewarding threshold! Farewell ...1/6/2013 If your actions inpsire other to dream more, learn more, do more and become more, you are a leader. It is quite a thing to say goodbye in a sudden moment.
We have plans, and ideas and things that we can get to tomorrow, but really there are things that we must get done today. I lost a friend, a leader, a mentor, a teacher, and a principal yesterday. He gave me a chance. He hired me here and I'm deeply saddened to know that he's gone. Here are some lessons that I learned from him:
Learning...12/22/2012 A great book should leave you with many experiences, and slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading. After last year's seniors left, they wanted me to know something. "Do a sample conference, so we know how to do it!" I fear this. It makes me tremble. My students are so accustomed to 'playing school' that very often they copy the best ideas from someone else and think that it will garner them an "A." School is about getting "A's" right? If we don't get "A's" why are we here? How can we figure out a way to get an "A" without thinking, problem solving, or even investing? Just do what the teacher says; that will get you an "A".
The only place that an "A" really exists is in a school building, and despite what everyone tells us, school is really a place where, ultimately, we want to learn how to think. If an "A" is the result of learning, then bravo, and if a "C" is a result of learning, then bravo, too. An "F" only means that we have more work to do in that area, and school should be the place where we learn how to do that learning. This "playing school" pattern in my upper level students is alarming. When I won't "show them how" they become nervous and ask "Is this okay?" "Is this what you want?" "Should we do this?" I don't help them a lot either: "What do you think?" "How would you solve this?" "What challenge would you like your fellow students to experience today?" "What knowledge can you gain by working together?" Learning does not mean a silent room with a study light and a pair of glasses, or an all nighter, or memorizing of facts to fill in bubbles on a multiple choice test. Learning is not scoring well on a test. The test is not the end. We want school to teach about life, yet school is a place of correct answers, sitting in rows, and not having community. The world has very few correct answers, we very seldom sit in rows (although cubicles could be a close comparison) and community is how we live. Learning is exciting, dynamic, developmental, loud, and human. Most of all, learning is human. When we struggle through something alone or together with a learning partner, we grow, develop and enhance our minds; perhaps even our world. Even something as simple as trying a new recipe, or passing the driver's test is exciting when our mindset is "Hmmmm..how am I going to manage this?" rather than "How am I going to get an 'A'?" Who cares? If the recipe does not turn out, or we don't pass the driving test, we are living in real life. We can try the recipe again, ask others for their thoughts, or we have the choice to look up another recipe and try that one! We can take the errors from our first driving test, learn from them, and pass it the next time. Real Life is real, so learning is gradual and messy, like life. Teaching that is very difficult, but it is always a in my mind as I challenge my students to learn, truly. It is not enough to simply teach children to read; we have to give them something worth reading. Something that will stretch their imaginations – something that will help them make sense of their own lives, and encourage them to reach out toward people whose lives are quite different from their own. I am taken aback every time I read the wisdom of Katherine Patterson. When I feel discouraged, I find a speech, an interview, or an article by this author, and find myself once again invigorated! She is eloquent, and sometimes brash in her resistance to "readicide" and rote memory. She sparks something in me as a teacher that makes me want students to jump into books with reckless abandon and not have to worry about literary analysis, or a dreaded 'packet' at the end of the story.
As I prepare for my one class of thirty-two Contemporary Literature students, I am already looking forward to pushing them beyond. Had you been a student in that class in the past, you learned that the course it not as much about books, as it is about the power of reading on our human interaction; our very existence. I honor Ms. Patterson and her dedication to young readers: challenging, changing, pushing, and gently (sometimes not so gently) relating their lives back to them in pages and pages of beautiful, relatable literature. Thank you Ms. Patterson. Thank You. I am...A teacher of students of British, World and Contemporary Literature. Archives
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