I Never Learn a Thing While I'm Talking

Can't deny the relation.

Anyone who knows us knows that my kids and I are truly cuts of the same cloth. They are constantly told they look like me, they have mannerisms that mimic mine and they even possess the kindness of heart that is indicative of the Maccaroni name. (Unfortunately none of them have yet to realize that they are runners, but there is still time.) Yes, there is no denying their roots and this was recently emphasized once more through a string of e-mails between my two older daughters' teachers and me.

This week, since I had been unable to attend our high school's Back to School Night a few weeks ago, I e-mailed all of my daughters' teachers to introduce myself, express my extreme gratitude for their efforts, and offer my support wherever needed. Toward the end of my e-mail, I implored teachers to let me know if there is ever any concern of any type with my children in their class or anywhere at all. The message I hoped to convey is that we are in this together. I believe that the teachers of my children are my eyes on their day, and it is through this close relationship that we can help my children make the most of these formative school years.

Some teachers did not reply, and that is just fine. They know I am here and they know where to find me if needed. Of the teachers that did reply, the overall theme was evident. My children are quiet. To quote one teacher:

"It is my hope that as she becomes more comfortable, she will talk more in class."

Ha! Good luck with that!  This appears to be just another of the traits that have been passed along to my children, for better or worse.  I am 48 years old and people are still asking me to verbally contribute more at meetings, at professional development and at social gatherings. And it would seem this penchant for quiet has been in my family longer still since one of the things I recall from my father's funeral back in 1985 was his best friend saying:

"Randy never said much, but when he did open his mouth to talk, everyone would stop to listen."

And so this week as the e-mails came in expressing concern over the pensive nature of my children, I was drawn to re-notice the sign I have on my classroom door: my reminder to keep my mouth shut in order to allow others to teach me.

"My first rule of conversation is this: I never learn a thing while I'm talking."

This goes for every situation that involves conversation.  If I need to know what caused a student to behave in a certain way....if I am speaking with a parent about how to best help their child in my class....if I am collaborating with my colleague on best practice....if I am at a book discussion, PD session or lecture....you get the picture. Whenever words are involved, I can only truly learn when I allow others to speak. Yes, it is a give and take, but there are times when being quiet is the best way to contribute to a dialogue.

Perhaps we all need to take a step back and give this some thought...not just for ourselves as adults, but for the children with whom we are blessed to learn.  Perhaps, just maybe, my children and I do need to speak up more. But perhaps, just the same, some teachers and students would benefit from not talking as much. Those who tend to talk the most might benefit from quietly enjoying what others have to contribute. All might benefit from some silence as well, for it is in the silence that we can gather our thoughts and make sense of our world. And in the end, appreciating the contributions, verbal and silence, of each other in this arena of airwaves might help us all to find our voice, learn from one another and create the balance necessary to reap the benefits of a society that listens as much as it talks.

Inspire Others by Telling Your Story

When something comes up over and over I figure that's my cue to bring it here to get your thoughts. Over the past week, the idea of 'bragging' by sharing accomplishments has come into my awareness at least four times. Here's the thing: in zero instances was there accusation from an outside source involved. No one was calling another out for bragging. Instead, in all instances I witnessed, the reporter of accomplishment was cautioning him or herself to not brag or boast. Actually, "cautioning" is too mild since two of these people were actually reprimanding and hushing themselves against sharing the awesome things they had achieved. This is concerning to me. When we make a difference, do our best or achieve a goal we should be able to feel proud and share the news freely with others! This is not a time to be quiet, but a time to encourage and inspire! In each instance this week, I found myself struggling to help the person who was sharing realize that it is only through the articulation of accomplishments that others can be inspired. And so, I bring the topic here for your contemplation.

First, when is sharing simply sharing? Well, I am an emulator. I like to see what others have accomplished, then consider how I can learn from their experience and use the new information to achieve my goals.  I can recall a book I read when I was pregnant with child number 4 called, Outnumbered, Raising 13 Kids with Humor and Care.  I was determined to be the best mom of my children that I could possibly be, and so I wanted to hear from moms who had done the same. Was Mary Ann Kuharski, the woman who wrote the book, bragging about what she had accomplished with her 13 children (7 biological and 6 adopted)? Not at all!  She was sharing experience so that others might learn. And learn, I did! To this day, I have relayed pieces of her story several times. My favorite was a depiction of when she was sitting in the bleachers at a football game. She was wedged between a close friend on her left and a woman with whom she had had infrequent interaction on her right. The woman on her right began lamenting how much laundry she had to do because of her two children and how she could never catch up. The author sat attentively listening, but never offered her own laundry experience. After the woman on her right departed, the author's friend expressed her incredulousness; "Why didn't you tell her how many children you have and how much laundry you must do daily?" The author's answer was that this woman's reality was her reality. The author had nothing to prove and no matter how much she had shared, this woman still had her reality to go home to. She might have been amazed, or worse felt sympathy, but neither of those reactions would have changed her perception about her circumstances. She was not ready to learn from anyone else's experience. It would have become an I-can-one-up-you conversation of boasting that is never helpful. The author's wisdom astounded me and I have carried this reminder with me ever since. Her humility was evident. She did not see her accomplishment as something to brag about. It was simply her reality.

Second, when is sharing actually bragging? My daughter who is a junior in high school is reading Beowulf, an Old English poem in which the protagonist shows signs of having a boasting problem. I am over-simplifying the classic work of course, but throughout the story, Beowulf is consistent in boasting about his greatness as a warrior. Now, it should be stated, his feats were quite impressive...but humility was certainly not one of his strongpoints. In helping Anna through the reading of this difficult piece of literature, I employed a sense of humor which lead to us both entertaining a choose-your-own ending where Beowulf meets his demise. After all, with all his bragging about his greatness, it certainly felt as though he deserved to be put in his place. If I were to try to pinpoint what made his 'sharing of greatness' cross the line into the bragging arena, I would have to say it was his lack of humility. He wasn't just telling of his epic adventures and awesome skill. He seemed to be doing so in an effort to prove his greatness and proclaim how much better he was than others. He didn't lead with a story, but instead with an attitude of "I'm better than you because...", and the impression that he felt he was the only one capable of achieving such greatness.

Can you see the difference between the author in my first example and Beowulf? Let's consider the conundrum of sharing vs. bragging. Does the difference between the two lie in: intention? perception? reception?  judgement?  humility? The answer to all of these, might just be 'Yes'. But none of that should keep us from relaying our accomplishments! We need to share all that we are doing. We need to celebrate how we are changing circumstances for the better. We cannot control how others perceive us or our deeds. We cannot help them avoid judgement or envy. We need only to help others know what is possible and we need to be proud that we have made a difference and done our best. Go ahead and share your achievements, tout your accomplishments and while you are doing so, also take time to celebrate the greatness of others. This is where humility enters. This is part of our investment in humanity! It is through this sharing that others will be inspired and know what it is they are capable of achieving or accomplishing in their lifetime!

Experience is the Catalyst for Empathy

Are you a middle or high school teacher who wonders why kids seem discombobulated when they arrive for class? As a teacher do you find it frustrating that those in other professions pass judgement on you for using your time off to relax? Do you question why your students can't focus or why they resist the denial of phone use in school? If you answered "yes" to any of these questions consider the title of this post and enjoy where the words below invite you to go. When we allow ourselves to experience what others experience we are able to empathize with them in a way that is otherwise nearly impossible.

This post's assembly took longer than usual because it was something that needed to be knocked around my mind like a pinball, dismantled beyond the point of recognition, studied from various angles only to continue to cause me to question its validity. The writing of this post started in June with an all-nighter and took many turns along the way. Its creation involved a paralegal and in the end, it will suggest a daily trip down a crowded hallway and a Device Deprivation Double Dog Dare. Yes, this is going to be one unique read, and it all starts with that simple statement:

Experience is the Catalyst for Empathy...

First, the All-Nighter:  Last June I had the opportunity to assist with Project Graduation, an overnight event held in our high school with the intention of providing graduating seniors a safe place to party and celebrate. As a volunteer I was assigned to various stations throughout the night. Along with a school colleague and several parents, I stayed for the duration of the event. Then after arriving home about 5:45am, I showered before attending the final day of school. You younger teachers might be thinking, "What's the big deal?". Let me just say, at 48 years-old this was quite an undertaking. But let me be clear. I don't regret it one bit! The experience helped me to begin this quest for understanding. It started me on the path to figure out if empathy requires experience. You see, staying up all night allowed me to feel what I am sure countless teens feel after staying up all night to text, play games and just be the night owls their bodies tell them to be. And while I don't condone their sleeping habits, at least now I understand what those habits create for them during the school day. On that last day of school my stomach hurt, my patience waned and my ability to think quickly and respond reasonably was limited. From this experience I gained empathy for the teens I teach, as well as the ones that I parent, who have difficulty finding adequate sleep on a regular basis. 

Next while we as teachers struggle to help others understand the intensity of our jobs, our explanations repeatedly fall short of breeding empathy and drift away as nonsense without taking root. Why? The answer is simple and I am incredulous as to why it never hit me before. To adequately describe the experience of being a teacher is impossible. Instead we need to invite others to spend a day; not an hour or a class period, but an entire day in our shoes. 

On September 11, my neighbor and friend was allowed this very experience in our school. As a paralegal in NYC, he took a "day off" from work to speak to our students about his experiences on that day in 2001. In the end, the students were not the only ones given a new perspective. Leaving his daily commute to NYC behind for a day in order to tell his story to middle school students every period for 7 periods, he was rewarded with a newfound appreciation for the world of education and the folks who serve children in this way. As he described it, this total time-on-task was unlike his daily work experience. Working from bell to bell, continuing to teach even when he was tired and would have preferred a break, maintaining a level of decorum necessary around children, all combined to give him a new appreciation for the profession. Through his experience, empathy was born.

How powerful would it be if we invited people from various professions to take one day off from their daily job to spend it as a teacher?  In order for this to work, they would need to come in regardless of the sleep or lack thereof that they had the night before. They would need to begin when the first bell rings and keep going with all eyes on them for the full period. If in the younger grades, they could have the full experience with a dose of runny noses and elementary bickering, and if in the older grades, cell phone withdrawal and pushing of limits.  Regardless of student-age, they would be guaranteed relentless needs and tremendous responsibility unparalleled in any other profession and indescribable without the experience. And in the end, the experience might breed empathy for a world which others like to evaluate without ever stepping foot in the door.

These are just two examples of many that my mind has considered over the past few months.  Empathy from experience....I really do believe there is credence to the idea. Still not convinced? Maybe take a three minute walk in the crowded high school hallway. For the first minute weave in and out of groups of chattering teens, next try to get to your locker which is being blocked by a crowd of kids, then spend the last minute worrying that you might be late to class...and subsequently reprimanded by the teacher... again. Would you arrive at your destination focused and ready to work? The experience might help you have empathy for the students who arrive to you each day.

I leave you with one final challenge. It's the Device Deprivation Double Dog Dare that I mentioned at the outset. I think you know what I am going to suggest...There is much talk about the addiction of our students to their devices. I don't believe most adults are faring any better in this area. Perhaps we as teachers need to set an example. Have the experience of being device free during school hours. No texting, no posting, no checking...Could you do it? I Double Dog Dare you! Interested in trying out the theory of empathy by experience? If you decide to do it, let us know how it goes...let us know if it helps you to understand the resistance from students, the withdrawal symptoms really.  This could be an eye-opener as you use the experience to build empathy. Not so you decide that they should have their phones in school but so that you can truly say you understand how they feel.