Wednesday, September 9, 2020

Two Days of Parent Interviews, One Repeated Question

The two days of parent orientation with which we begin our year is usually extremely pleasant. I have 30 minutes blocks, to begin to get to know, or reconnect, with my students and their families, as we ease into the school year. It is always busy, but not rushed, and allows students to get a feel for being in back in the building, making for a shorter week for everyone.

This year was similar to years past, and like everything else this year, it was entirely different. 

Overall, like years past, the conversations were pleasant, interesting, and illuminated the great range of abilities and needs in my classroom. Like years past, I was very excited to see some students with whom I would be working with for a second year, and to meet my new students, whose feelings about school and their learning, and by extension themselves, are often immediately evident, even from behind their masks. 

Regardless of the crazy world circumstances, it is still a new school year, and there is a special feeling, of anticipation and the potential of all the learning and growth it holds that is palpable when sitting down with a family and asking, "So, how are you feeling about school?" 

There were moments, over the course of the many conversations, when the global pandemic could be put aside, and we could talk about school, learning, and the needs and interests of each child could be addressed. With each family, we talked about school subjects, schedules, and learning in a cohort of two classes, with two teachers, and one community of learners, even though the only room we will all share is a virtual one. Kids were excited about what they like, what they want to learn, and some goals and challenges- or they weren't. Over the course of the days, in many ways, the conversations with my families were as they have always been. 

Until they weren't. Some parents were more polite, and waited until I formally asked if they had any questions, and for others it was the first words out of their mouths, but whenever it came, the question I heard over and over again was, "So how many kids will be in the classroom?"

As I responded 23, and they each looked at the large tables around the room, some big, a few single desks, and the window stools, the expressions in their eyes ranged from concern to one dad with sheer panic behind their masks.

I did my best to assuage their concerns with the assurances that masks will be worn in the class, we will sanitize our hands regularly- never mind that we are outside in a portable and all the sinks are in the building- and spend as much time outside as possible, especially while the weather is good. At times I really believed what I was saying, and I am actually encouraged by the science around masks. But then again, don't I have to be?

At the same time, I didn't sugarcoat anything. Sitting in the space, I stated it was obvious with 23 bodies we wouldn't be able to stay more than a meter apart. Some who arrived later saw the Plexiglas barriers that will allow for some separation between those sitting together, as well as support students who want to work together. It is certainly not ideal, but it is something. 

I was as optimistic and encouraging as I could possibly be, and also reminded many parents of the power of their voices, and that they should express their concerns beginning at the top of the food chain, with the premier, and then with the minister of education, their MLA's and school trustees. I assured them that I already had on several occasions and will continue to do so as well. 

As many times as I answered questions about the number of the students in the classroom, I also stated quite plainly that our school leaders and every teacher, including me, are doing the very best we can with what we have, and care as much about the health and safety of their children as they do.

I am not sure how much it reassured each of them, but it helped me, as once again, it is pretty much all I have got.

I don't have answers for many of their questions.

I can't answer how 23 students in a room for several hours over the course of the day is okay in school, when in every other place every person is required to socially distance by 2 meters?

I can't explain what happens at lunch, when those same 23 kids, who have been in the same room all day, have to take off their masks and eat at the same desks on which they have worked. We can't avoid sharing some supplies. We can disinfect between use, and we can disinfect the tables, but if the kids can't touch the disinfectant because it is too strong for them to use, and need someone to clean for them, then who does it fall on, but teachers? In addition, kids are eating on the tables on which we are using harsh chemicals. I don't know how this is okay? 

When parents asked why their 8th grader needs to attend every day, but their 9th or 10th grader is in a socially distanced learning environment, because they are going every other day, it was pretty easy to explain that schools are being used so the economy can function and kids have where to go, but I couldn't explain why this is okay.

It was easy tell parents all the measures we were putting in place to keep their children healthy, happy, and safe in school, from the creative ideas our music teachers have, adjusting all the instruments they play, and even teaching choir without singing, to the idea of cohorts, staggered schedules, cleaning, Plexiglas barriers, masks, walking kids back and forth, moving furniture, not using lockers and microwaves, and a million other little things.

What is impossible to say is if these measures will be enough. Will it be enough to maintain the quality of teaching, leaving teachers with the time and resources to implement their programs and provide learning experiences for which students can take ownership, while still ensuring the safety of students and staff, and some sense of sanity for teachers?

Our school leaders are responding swiftly to requests for equipment to support student earning, and their staff, within the constraints placed upon them- again not really new, just a new feat in different times. I have heard it described that they are building the airplane while already in flight. They have been open and flexible, and conceded that much of what we are doing is based upon trial and error.

Having 23, 12-13 year-old students in a room, in which we are unable to maintain 1 metre of social distancing, even assuming they can all wear masks correctly all the time, and never eat and drink, is going to be a mistake. All the doctors and science has said so. Schools opening in other places in the world have shown it.

So, if we know something is an error, why do we have to try it?

Of course, I don't have an answer, and at this point, I don't really expect one, though I will copy and paste all of my questions and send off another email to all the powers that be, because at this point, why not? 

It is all I know I can do.

As for tomorrow, I will be excited to meet my students, as they will be there to be met, and from there energy grows. 

I left my room in disarray, because I still hadn't decided what to do with the desks and tables to make students comfortable and keep them safely distanced. I realized the answer lies where it often does, with them. I will give them some options, and we can decide together. We will figure it out as we go. It seems it will be the theme of the year, so we might as well embrace it. 

We will meditate. Maybe with masks in the classroom, maybe outside. Maybe we will start outside, and then determine how to set up the room. I am lucky. I have outside space and an abundance of chairs. I have choices and I am grateful for that. 

Whatever tomorrow brings, it will bring another first day of school, and I will do the best I can, just like I do every year. 

 

  


   

 

Wednesday, September 2, 2020

First Day in the Building

    Since the government, in its infinite wisdom, has deemed it necessary for me to be here, at school today, all day, I decided to start writing and document some of the day's events and my feelings and observations as I return to school.

    I have long been enamored with the concept of paradox, or two opposites that are true at the same time, to help me to reconcile some of the contradictions at play in the world and life. I can accept human nature, and people with endless patience that eventually runs out, or even that smart people who make stupid choices. Paradox is part of the mystery and wonder of the world.

     It is the lies that are hard to swallow. 

    To be clear it is evident that our school leaders are doing the best they can, with the many challenges, and whatever limited guidance and support they are receiving from the powers that be, whether in my division, or from the government. As information was transmitted they were respectful, optimistic, and as clear as they could be based on what they know and what they have been told. They heard the questions and answered as best they could. Yet so much is unknown, so much remains to be seen, and so many responses were predicated on the idea that we are back in the classroom, but...

    This is the part I can't quite wrap my mind around. As if it is possible to keep 23, 13 year-old kids sitting in their seats with masks, and if we are lucky nearly 1 meter distance between them, for chunks of time, making communication challenging at best, and still imagining we can achieve the same quality of teaching. Then further limiting access to already scarce supplies like computers and library space, adding cleaning practices which will eat more time, and removing all the fun and social interaction from school, yet still believing we can maintain the same quality of learning.  

   Are we operating in a pandemic or are we not? 

   We have been told over and over these are unprecedented times, yet in school not much has changed. Sure, there are some sign, masks in the building, and many new rules of things we cannot do, and learning that will limited as a result, yet the expectation to teach, has not changed.

   As I write, I am waiting for my administrators to come to my classroom so that we can brainstorm about furniture. My 8 month old tables are each 1.38 meters long, and usually seat 2 per student with triangle tables on the corners. I could create a Math problem having my students work out the placements of the currents desks requiring at least one metre space between each student on all sides and accommodating everyone, but it extremely cruel to assign trick questions with no solutions. 

    The only answer to how to properly social distance in a classroom is to have less people in the classroom. The government is not willing to make any changes, operating as though is it business as usual, which should be surprising as they believe education is business and its role is supporting the economy, not children, 

       Later reflecting on my big question, and the many more that followed, and after a busy day. I still don't have many answers. Yet the day is done, and as if to prove the paradox, it was both long and quick, and full, yet relaxed. I have many concerns, but worrying will not help me, or anyone. 

   Instead I will commit to doing my part, writing here and continuing to speak up where I can. I posed many questions today, first in our staff meeting, and then later as part of the #SafeSeptember phone campaign to the offices of the premier and several other ministers. 

    As important as it was to call, it is equally important to note the roles of the administrative assistants answering the phones, each of whom was female (Conservative Party coincidence?) and perfectly lovely, accepting my calls with interest, dignity, and respect, though the secretary of the premier sounded particularly frazzled. She was also very grateful when I acknowledged her dedication to her job on what must have been a particularly annoying day, which was a highlight of mine.

   My calls, in which I reiterated my questions to the different ministers including education, health and families, letting each know that I was sitting in my classroom, looking at an impossible situation, and genuinely concerned about the health and well-being of my students and their families, as it is simply too small to accommodate so many students while maintaining any semblance of social distancing, took less than 10 minutes, but I am hopeful mine, and others, will make a difference. 

    I remain optimistic that my classroom will be a safe space for learning next week as it has been for the last 18 years because it will look different than it did today. The furniture will change, one way or the other, and hopefully the number of students I expect to see it in each day will too, sooner rather than at their expense. 

     In the meantime, for today I have done what I can. As annoying as it was to be called in early by the government, I am grateful to return to the security of a job that I mostly love, and the support of some great colleagues and friends. As is often said in the teacher world, there was time for planning and some rich conversation today, for which I am grateful. 

    I am grateful I had some quiet time in my classroom this morning to meditate. I was able to spend some time connecting, with myself, the space, my purpose, my abilities, and my breath. I am pretty sure those minutes made the rest of my day much easier. I was also reminded as I sat that masks or not, meditation will remain part of the practice in room 11. 

    No matter what happens, I just have to keep breathing. Tomorrow is another day.

    Thanks for reading and joining me on this journey. I don't promise to write every day, but I am committed to documenting some of this time and experience, a meditation of its own.

For now, may you be happy, may you be healthy, may you be safe! 

Thursday, August 27, 2020

Documenting Again

 It has been some time since I have visited this tool, but I find a need for it again. I find a need to write, to document this time and its impact on classroom life, for me and my students. Meditation will certainly be a part, but the focus may shift as I go. 

For now, I need a space to keep track of the writing I am sending to the government with my concerns, and so I begin.

Letter of August 27, 2020

Esteemed Leaders in Education and Government,

Thanks to those who responded to my previous letter. Once again I am taking significant time to voice my concerns about the safe return to schools in a comprehensive manner. I am hoping the government, and my school division, will continue to be proactive and take more significant steps to keep all staff and students safe as we return to the classroom. The government has directed me, and all of my colleagues, back to work early next week, stealing three days of our summer, and it is my hope that the time will be put to good use, enacting potential plans, instead of preparing for a futile, and possibly deadly situation, should class sizes remain the same.

Mandating masks was a good first step, but will be useless if social distancing is not maintained. Doctors Roussin and Tam have consistently stated that two metres of social distancing is essential to keeping Canadians safe. The province has upheld their recommendations, enforcing its importance, fining establishments not in compliance, yet seems to believe that schools will be immune, and a meter if/when possible will be fine, as masks, and cohorts, will take care of the rest. 

My classroom is a relatively large portable, and under regular circumstances, when my 24-25 students come together, around our large conference-like tables, we are shoulder to shoulder, resembling the best of the United Nations. In June, when we allowed a maximum of 10 students back in the classroom, remaining socially distanced at about 2 meters, and adjusting to the new norm, was challenging, but possible. In many cases, students did a better job than adults.

Keeping even one meter apart, with a full class, by replacing the brand new furniture with single desks, will still be tight. There is simply not enough space, and even with masks, I am skeptical it will do any good. With all the people breathing in the same space for hours, in what I understand is a $250,000 room with its own heating/cool system but no ventilation, the setting remains precarious, especially as more and more research indicates the hazards of indoor settings.  


The danger is then compounded by the belief that cohorts of such large numbers can bring some sort of safety or better security. If each class were confined to a bubble, then perhaps. But each member of our schools, staff or student, is also part of the greater community, and has other contacts of their own, including essential workers and vulnerable populations. The contacts increase exponentially the larger the group, just as transmission can be exponential. The numbers in Manitoba continue to increase, and are worse now than they were when schools closed in March. We know so much more now, and yet there are still so many unknowns. Why are we taking steps backwards?


Why do Premier Pailister and Minister Goertzen presume to know what happens in classrooms and what is best for students? Is it because the Premier once went to school and his mother was once a teacher? I wonder what he would say to her if she were returning to the classroom next week?


Of the 25 students in my classroom, which is reflective of many across the province, skills range from 2-3 levels above grade level to 2-5 levels below. There are students learning English, students recovering from trauma, students who need motivation and confidence, and students who excel and enjoy every part of their learning. At the best of times, we are underfunded, short of resources, and students’ needs, as well as their right to a meaningful and relevant education, goes underserved. Even if we assume students and staff are safe, under these new, stressful, and limiting circumstances, what will happen to our students’ education and learning? 


To be clear, teachers will step up. Teachers will do what they have always done, and make the most of what they have, to support their students in their learning and growth. Many teachers are already spending their own money, and are in their classrooms as I write, on their own time, doing the best they can to get a handle on what could come, and make their classrooms safe for students and enjoyable for learning. We, educators, are professionals, able to reach children so they can learn, and will continue to do so, regardless of the circumstances, as it is simply what we do, and as it has always been. It will be challenging, and annoying, and I pray no one gets sick, which will be the fault of the government, but we are adults. We have choices and the ability to advocate for ourselves. It will be the children who suffer. 


Teachers are experts at implementing classroom procedures and routines for learning, and students are smart and capable of learning, but everything takes time. Time in school is precious, there is never enough. There is never enough time to meet the needs of each student and their learning at the best of times. Now, if our time is eaten by cleaning and sanitation procedures, or staggered arrivals to the same room, or not being able to collaborate, what happens to the learning? 


So much of learning is collaborative, and the collaboration is not limited to groups and meetings. Resources in schools are often scarce, and now can no longer be shared. My middle-years school has a population of about 500 students, and 2 Chromebook carts with 25 computers. Beyond those, and the 20 in the library, where the space to accommodate students and learning will also be cut in half, we often rely on using the 2 or 3 computers in each others’ classrooms. Sending students to work in another classroom will no longer be possible. We will need at least twice as many computers in our schools to start, not to mention the space, like corridors, which will be lost as well.  


If everything takes twice as long, and we don’t have the resources to provide the same quality of education anyway, then why are we putting so many Manitobans at risk? 


Prime Minister Trudeau recently announced new funding for the provinces specifically for education, relieving some of the burden and allowing for creative solutions. Now is the time to reinvent schools, to align with their purpose of a meaningful and relevant education, as well as keeping Manitobans safe, in order to keep learning in the future. Here are just a few ideas, extending beyond the current models, and requiring significantly more staffing, to ignite the potential and hopefully conversation. 

  1. Extend school hours by doubling staff allowing for smaller class sizes. Have two/three staffs of teachers in one building, at different times. This would allow for morning learning by one group, midday cleaning, and then afternoon/evening learning, and perhaps cleaning in between, depending on the needs of the school and communities. Let families sign up for class at times that suit their needs. Condense the learning time at school, and offer more at home resources and options. The operating costs likely wouldn’t increase that much, but would allow for a lot more flexibility and specialization, especially at the higher levels, and better meet the needs of the community, with small class sizes in place. Buildings could also be more multi-purpose, instead of just one level, and also house more community organizations and supports. Teachers would need to adjust to sharing space, and the idea of having “their classroom”, but as an added bonus, there could be more opportunity and flexibility for teachers. It could work that fewer teachers are forced to teach subjects in which they have no training, or any level of expertise.


  1. Maintain the status quo, with school hours and class sizes, but assign two teachers per class, to balance at school and at home learning. Let schools, communities, and teachers, design the models that work best. Allow for students to be at school in small groups in the fall, while it is easy to be outside, to establish relationships and routines, while still building online learning classrooms. Then in the winter, it is easier to set up schedules, and determine who truly benefits from being in the classroom and which students are supported from home. Working as a team would also reduce the pressure on teachers, allow teachers to meet the needs of students, and allow us to build unique learning experiences for our students during these times. 


  1. Regardless of the model, doubling resource and support staff, including learning support teachers, guidance counsellors, social workers, and clinicians, is essential. Everything takes twice as long, and the needs of students have only increased, especially the strain on mental health. It is imperative the government and leaders recognize and meet these needs.


  1. Trust teachers! Trust educators and their experiences, their professionalism, and their expertise. Worry less about scheduling, hours, and the quantity of everything, just for now. Defer to teachers, just as you do other professionals, when it comes to their opinions. Let teachers focus on the needs of students academically and otherwise, and support us in doing so.


I invite the Premier, the Minister of Education, and any other MLA, School Trustee, Superintendent, or leader to visit my classroom, not as a part of a photo opportunity, but to experience life in a school, and what teachers face caring for the minds, bodies, and souls of the children in our classroom, and begin to understand what we need to support their needs, in these times, and at all times. 

Teachers have always worked beyond the hours for which we are paid daily, and still the government freezes our wages, fights to keep them frozen, and then steals three days of our summer without pay. And yet, when we express what we need for the benefit of our students, your children, we are told no, and to make do. Teachers have always done this, just ask your mother Premier Pallister, and will continue to do so, but when is enough, enough?


We are now being told we are critical care workers, which we knew all along. More than ever, we need our leaders to trust us to do our jobs, and give us the resources we need to teach children, beginning with whatever it takes to provide the space of 2m between each individual in each classroom and learning setting. Once you do that, we can teach.


Investing in education is always an investment in the future, and there has never been a better time, as the future is now, and lives depend on it. This is the second letter I am writing to you as I am concerned, and believe this government can do better. I plan to keep writing, and document my experience on my blog (https://dailyclassroommeditations.blogspot.com/), and I sincerely hope that my writing, and future letters aren’t to inform you of the experiences of illness and death in my classroom and community. I hope you choose to take action now, reduce class sizes, and support a safe and healthy return to schools in Manitoba. 


Respectfully submitted,

         Cari Satran M.Ed, PBDE, B.Ed.


Letter of August 16, 2020

Dear Esteemed Leaders of Government and Education,

As I sit on this Sunday morning and watch CBC news reporting a 90% increase in pediatric cases in the US, with findings that at least 16, and potentially up to 45%, of children have been discovered as asymptomatic carriers of the virus, I am writing to add my voice to the concerns over the Back to School Plan, or lack thereof, for Manitoba schools this September. 

I have been teaching middle-school for the last 18 years and would like nothing more than to go back to the classroom and regular classroom learning. However, under the circumstances, there is no more normal. What we once knew has changed and is no more. The question is now, what will our leaders do to reinvent the social construction of “Schooling” to support all of our learners, and provide each individual the “meaningful and relevant” education promised in the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedom in this time of crisis? 


Never has inclusion of every student been more relevant, challenging, necessary and possible, if our leaders actually rethink the constructs of school, trust teachers to do their jobs, invest in education, and most importantly, stop pretending that the current plan, or social structure of school, is about children and their learning or well-being, and instead acknowledge that today’s systems serve the economy and sustaining the social norms, rather than supporting the needs of individual students, or any concern for the safety and well-being of students and staff. 


It has been said, over and over again, that we are in unprecedented times, and yet our leaders, including doctors and mental health professionals, are acting as though they know the results and its impact on children and their mental health. Acting under the assumption that going back to school, even if we could enforce the social distancing and wear masks to accommodate the existing standard of large classes in small rooms, is anything like “normal” is at best ignorant of what classroom life is/was actually like, and at worst dangerous, as today the situation is life and death.


While I cannot assume to know the long lasting impact of distance learning, or missing out on learning for a year or more, on a child’s mental health and development at all the various ages, I do know that students, their families, their teachers, and others who care, are more likely to be alive and well physically, to recover mentally, emotionally, and academically, if they are not forced to go to school in September. 


Having experienced the death of my own father, at the age of 13, I can speak to the trauma, and how it impacted all parts of my life, including academics. I missed a lot of school after he died. In my case, his condition was genetic, and though there was nothing I could have done, I blamed myself, a common human response, through which I grieved and recovered, with the support of my family and some professional help. And my dad’s death was not my fault. 


The current plan, with regular class sizes, with or without masks, invites the disease, death, and trauma that goes with it, as part and parcel of the “new norm.” Premier Pallister has even gone so far to suggest that these thoughts are merely fears, and not of real concern, and we should just face them down. Yet we have only to look at the rise in numbers where schools have been opened, and the ability to social distance assumed, like Israel and the US, to see the disastrous results. This is especially disconcerting given that our numbers in Manitoba have recently started increasing, and school is not even open yet.


My classroom contains a population of students whose families work in healthcare, trucking, other schools, and as other frontline workers, while many also live in multi-generational households with their grandparents. I can only imagine that the trauma would be exponentially increased if a child had to live with the responsibility of bringing the disease to the classroom infecting others, or became infected at school and brought it home to their grandparent or another family member. 


In my 18 years in the classroom, I have supported students through many challenging life situations. Illness and death are part of life and living, and a part of learning, and each event is the opportunity to understand our capacity as humans, and to grow resilience, compassion, and gratitude. With inequity, abuse, addiction, cancer, and a number of other diseases, including those who live in the Dial-a-Life community, there is enough illness in our schools and communities. We do not need to welcome the experience of COVID-19 into our classrooms. There can be no doubt that death and illness, whether it is that of a family member, classmate, or teacher, are more traumatic than missing time in the classroom, especially when there are so many solutions available to support every child and their learning needs.


The solution is certainly not easy, but it is pretty simple. The government needs to support school divisions with the funds, including those to hire more teachers. Then school divisions need to support their teachers and families by trusting their schools with the funds and flexibility to meet the needs of staff and students. Then, schools can communicate with their families and communities, and will have the ability to support their needs. 


Many families are able, and very comfortable with students learning at home. I know I am one of many teachers who, in March on a moment’s notice, created an engaging and relevant program, which promoted the continued growth and success of many of my learners. Let families who can learn from home work with teachers who prefer, or need to, to teach from home. This frees up the space for those who need to be in school to learn in small, safer groups and have their needs supported. In many cases, when working with smaller groups, the same learning can be achieved in less, but more concentrated time. We can also reach the academic, social, and all the other needs of our students much better as we continue to build strong relationships. 


We have the opportunity to reinvent school and education to better reach the needs of all of our students, and as Stephen Harper recently said, “Courageous decisions require visionary leadership.” It is time to change the conversation and rethink learning, ending the idea the kids can be “behind,” as though there is an imaginary line for success, and it matters if a child learns to read at a specific age, reaches a goal at a specific time, or finishes their schooling at 17, 18 or 19 years old, and instead recognize that schools have a responsibility  to support the health and well-being of each child. The government has the responsibility to act, beginning by trusting teachers, who spend years in university establishing, and then consistently refining and growing their practices, to do their jobs, and supporting them with the funds to do it. Include teachers, who actually spend their days in the classroom, in the planning process, seeking out their professional opinions for what is best for learners, just as you have deferred to Dr. Roussin’s expertise throughout the pandemic. 


If the goal is status-quo, then investment in buildings, ventilation systems, and the staff required for small class sizes and safe breathing in classrooms. However, the government can go beyond the social construction of school established when kids were needed to tend the fields, and light was only available between sunup and sunset, with an investment in staff and trust in their abilities as professionals. At the same time, we will save lives, and bring back the original goal of the pandemic, which was flattening the curve and avoiding community spread, while we support people, physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, financially, and academically, as we are all in this together. 


I know this is a long letter, and realistically, I do not expect any politician to have the attention span required to read this far, but I will be happy to be wrong if these words have any impact. And, as I always tell my students, I know I have done my part and added my voice. I sincerely ask Premier Pallister, Minister Goertzen, Dr. Roussin, and other leaders in education to rethink your strategy and come up with a back to school plan that protects the lives of students and teachers, while still supporting learning. I urge you to consider the letter I will write when I let you know one of my students is ill, or a parent or family member has died, and the feeling you, as a human, would have to carry, knowing you could have acted and made a different decision that would have saved that life and the pain inflicted on that community. In this case, that death would be your fault.


Please continue to err on the side of caution, with the knowledge that mandating masks in 5-12 schools and classrooms is the least you can do, and make better decisions to safeguard the lives of Manitobans. Please do your jobs so we teachers can continue to teach.


Respectfully submitted,

Cari Satran, M.Ed., PBDE, B.Ed 

   

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Bliss before I fly


Inhale, two, three, four,

It was a blissful
five and a half minutes
first thing in the morning
with my homeroom

Hold, two

The music played
and the room
was completely
silent
and totally
still.

Exhale, two, three, four

When we were done
I told them
how brilliant it was
and how much
they are
growing
already
this year,
both my newbies
and my veterans,
some of whom
are like different kids,
especially Student 1,
though that was
conveyed
in a private message.

Inhale, two, three, four

I also spoke briefly
about the word
spiritual,
and the nature of
meditation,
which allows us
to connect with
our inner selves,
a spiritual practice.
Then we got to
workshopping
and writing
our 6 word memoirs.

Hold, two,

My switch class came
after break.
Though not as
still
or silent
as the class before,
they were improved,
mostly.

Exhale, two, three, four

Student B was excited
he was leaving
for a concert
in the afternoon.
In the morning
he was bursting
with energy
and had trouble
containing himself.

Inhale, two, three, four

Before we began
I spoke again of power
and the power
we have
to control
ourselves,
and how
in the end,
that is really
all the power
we have.

Hold, two

I told a story
of a student,
non--verbal
with various challenges,
both physical
and intellectual,
and his inability
to control himself,
and the sounds
he made.

Exhale, two, three, four,

For two years,
he was in my classroom,
and participated in
meditations daily,
rocking in his chair,
often bouncing his head
against my belly.
sometimes making noise,
sometime being quiet.
He had no power.

Inhale, two, three, four

I reminded Student B,
and everyone else,
they have the power
to make choices
for themselves,
even if someone else
is making noise.

Hold, two

And so we began,
and he was quiet
for awhile,
but was overcome
with the need
to make noise
near the end.

Exhale, two, three, four

He quieted again
when I stood
beside him,
and I reminded him again
of his power
when we were done.

Inhale, two, three, four

As demanding as
he is,
and annoying as
the noise and
distraction
are to me,
and others,
it will help
the other students
learn
tolerance
for others,
as they will
hopefully
realize
they can feel
compassion
and yet
remain
unaffected
simultaneously,
as the noise
and distration
bother them
less and less.

Hold, two

Big thoughts,
too late at night,
especially,
on the eve of
the conference
I am attending
tomorrow.

Exhale, two, three, four

Getting ready to fly
but feeling the need
to document
the feeling
of the day.
How strange,
and quick,
and for now,
done.

I'll be away from my classroom until Tuesday, but will write about the conference (I have to do it anyway) and my presentation and the meditations we do.

All the best and thanks for reading 

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

One for Tuesday


The first Day 6
of the cycle.
My kids go to TAA,
and I finally have some
prep time,
to get stuff done.
And the computers are down.

I can't do
anything,
I need to get done,
so I do
a bunch of other stuff.

But it throws
the whole day off.

My switch class comes,
settling relatively quickly,
considering they just had
TAA in the morning
for the first time.

Student A sits down,
ready to go.
He is a different kid
than last year,
even if it might
not last.
I'll take
what I can get.
And keep reminding him
how awesome he is
and what good choices
he is making.

Student B gets comfortable
in his seat
beside me,
and asks
if we will
meditate again
today.

I tell him we will
today and
every day.

I take the opportunity
to invite my students,
especially my experienced ones,
to consider
leading meditations,
while I am away at
my conference
later this week.

I have a few
conferences and
presentations
coming up,
and with the High Holidays,
I will be away
quite a bit in
September
and early October.
I remind them
they will have
many chances
and encourage them
to take them.

On that note,
we begin,
lights dimmed,
music on,
inhale, two, three, four,
hold, two,
exhale, two, three, four.
They are getting
used to it.

Most put their
heads down,
including Student A,
happy to relax,
and breathe,
for a minute,
or five.

Student B started out
strong,
or calm,
less restless,
more settled.

But a blip
in the music
from a glitch
on the Ipad
distracted him,
and caused him
to bleep,
literally,
that was the noise
he made,
a few times,
before I reached
his side,
and asked him,
why
he would give
a machine
such power
over him?

I reminded him,
and everyone,
that they held
their power
in their breath,
and no one,
or nothing,
could take it away,
unless they
allowed it.
And that they
deserved better.

As I spoke,
I lost the count,
but it didn't matter.
I told them that,
and reminded them
to breathe naturally,
and a few moments later,
the track was done.

I closed
the meditation
and started
the class.

It, and the rest
of the day
flew by.

Exploratory outside
with all the grade 8's,
a walk to the park
on a beautiful day,
and with the computers down,
what else could we do?

After lunch,
my switch class
came back
for our first
French class.

About 20 minutes in
Student B said
he wanted to
meditate again.
Almost half
indicated they'd
agree,
but it didn't seem
to flow
in the moment.
But definitely
next time,
I told him.

After break,
was French again.
But this year
is different.
I still have
my homeroom,
but I am also
co-teaching,
with the third
grade 8 teacher
in the row
of portables.

He has been
teaching for
over 15 years,
but was never
required
to teach
French before.

Though it is
familiar
to teach,
and work with,
large groups,
it is different
to have
two classes
together
for French.
It will be
challenging,
but interesting,
and strange,
and different.

Today
it was so
strange
and different
I didn't even
realize
my homeroom hadn't
meditated
that day.

I knew
something
was off,
but I thought
it was the whole
situation.

Surprisingly,
none of my students
said anything.
I wonder
if they
noticed
and will
ask them
tomorrow.

The class
itself
went okay,
for a first
French class,
with 48 kids
in a room,
more than half
of whom
have no
interest
in learning
French,
and a third,
who are still
learning
English.

An old story,
part of the
institution
of education.

At least next time,
I will know
what is off
and be sure
we meditate
at the end of the day,
before French
with both classes
on Day 6.

At least,
we spent the
last 15 minutes
outside.

And, once again,
tomorrow
is another day.


Monday, September 11, 2017

Off and Running- Friday, Monday

First Friday morning
time already flying by. 
Week one nearly done.

My homeroom settles,
getting used to the routine.
Finding what they need.

Lights dim, music on,
nearly all their heads go down,
straight backs didn't last long.

But the silence stays,
peace washes over the room
everyone is still.

Inhale, two, three, four,
Hold, two. Exhale, two, three, four,
again and again.

Five minutes and change
goes by quickly, leaving me
grateful and at peace.

Slowly they come back
their awareness returning
ready for the day.

In class, some sharing
easing into our learning
practicing our skills.

My switch class comes next
settling into their seats
getting used to things.

Student B sits down,
arranging his pad and pens,
preparing himself.

Student A gets set
his buddy at his table,
and Pringles to eat.

Again, I prepare,
lights off, music on. "Be still,
if you can," I say.

Student B improves
drawing, but not bothering
others. I can move.

Student A needs me
to remind him, food can wait. 
He knows that I'm right.

Both calm, with the rest,
more or less. It still feels weird
for some new students.

Inhale, two, three, four,
Hold, two. Exhale, two, three, four,
again and again.

Five minutes and change,
not as smooth as the first class,
but still over fast.

Then we start writing
first pieces- Six Word Memoirs
something all can write 

******************************

Just like that, Monday
arrives. First up, my switch class,
calmer in the morn.

Student B moves spots,
where he has more space, and the
support he requires.

He settles quickly, 
with Student A and the rest.
Everyone is calm.

Still the first Monday
most happy to lay their heads,
they are still tired.

Inhale, two, three, four,
Hold, two. Exhale, two, three, four,
again and again.

Five minutes and change,
this morning it goes better,
which I let them know.

Then the day begins
continuing our writing
picking up our pace.

My homeroom returns,
second nature already,
they settle quickly.

Inhale, two, three, four,
Hold, two. Exhale, two, three, four,
again and again.

Five minutes and change,
I appreciate the peace,
relax in the calm.

Then we get a start
writing, before the "Welcome 
Back" assembly starts.

The afternoon brings
the two classes together.
Time to mark today

It was not perfect 
the METTA meditation 
in the afternoon

But it's important,
it's September Eleventh,
and experience.

Twelve minutes or so,
extending our compassion
and kindness beyond

It is challenging
for some, especially those
who are new to it

Student B goes out,
it is all too much for him.
He spends time outside

Two boys keep talking
I stand behind them, or else,
they just keep talking.

Last year's giggly boy
needs a reminder, as do
a couple others.

Eventually,
they still, like Student A has
been the entire time.

The meditation 
ends with a minute of thanks
and almost silence.

I am not quite sure
it was worth it. But I don't
tell my students that.

Instead, I speak of
power, and what they give up
without noticing.

And that, for the first,
long meditation, they did
fairly well that day.

So another day 
came to an end. Tomorrow,
we'll do it again.

 


Thursday, September 7, 2017

Return Again Day 1

Inhale, two, three, four,

Here we go again,
another year,
another first day of school,
another new beginning.
Different,
but the same.

Hold, two,

The jump to grade 8,
with many of the same
beautiful faces,
most happy to be back,
excited,
to see their friends,
and even me,
a little.
To begin
the continuation
of  our learning
together.

Exhale, two, three, four

The same,
but different.
Familiar students,
in a new classroom,
out in the portables.
A bigger room,
with space to move,
and lots of storage,
but literally a portable classroom,
one in a row of six,
in back of the school,
with an outdoor hallway,
and a giant field,
out the back door,
as the extension of our classroom
space.

Only three classrooms
occupied,
all by grade 8 classes,
a huge advantage in the
spring and fall,
but a real bitch,
in the winter,
especially when I have to
go to the bathroom.

Inhale, two, three, four

The day begins,
my new homeroom
arrives,
a mix of kids
from last year's classes,
peppered with a few from across
the hall
and one new arrival,
a transfer from another school
with a friend in the room.

I am happy
to see them all,
and catch up with those
who didn't make it
to orientation meetings.

Hold, two

Students are excited
as they settle
into their chosen seats,
in their new classroom,
but also nervous,
about the day
and the year
to come,
and tired,
from going to bed late,
not used to getting up
so early
after the summer months.
I can relate.

Exhale, two, three, four

After O Canada and announcements,
but before anything else,
before organizing
supplies and lockers,
even before
introductions,
we pause
and take five and a half minutes
to meditate.

Inhale, two, three, four

They know what to expect,
even those
who weren't in my class
last year.
But we review
for the experienced,
and the new arrivals,
because it is a practice,
the very nature,
of meditation.

Hold, two

They are more willing
to answer my questions.
Why do we meditate?
To relax,
to focus,
to breathe.
To bring our attention
to a single
focus,
I remind them.

Exhale two, three, four

I encourage them
to sit up
straight
in their chairs,
even if they didn't
last year,
or only do it,
for a few days.

Inhale, two, three, four

I challenge them
to open themselves
to going deeper
into their
practices,
and really try
to follow
the breath count,
I will use,
for at least
the first couple of weeks.

Hold, two

And so we are ready
to begin.
I turn off the lights
but the room
is not dark,
just dimmed,
with the natural light,
from the big windows.
I start the music,
the students are quiet
and still,
even Student 1,
who has returned to me,
this time in my homeroom.
The same,
but different.

Exhale, two, three, four

The five and a half minutes
pass quickly,
as I speak through it,
first welcoming them to
Grade 8,
a new year,
a new space,
a fresh start.

Inhale, two, three, four

I guide them through
the prompts,
familiar to many,
first planting our feet flat,
on Treaty 1 Territory Land,
connecting with
the land,
those who came before us,
and the Treaty we honour
today.

Hold, two

Then straightening our backs,
while relaxing our bodies,
and finally,
closing our eyes.
About half,
in different parts of the room,
sitting straight in their seats,
the rest
putting their heads down,
all settling.
Silent, beyond the sound of my voice,
and the quiet music
in the background.

Exhale, two, three, four

Silent as I walk
around the room,
counting,
Inhale, two, three, four,
Hold, two,
Exhale, two, three, four,
over and over,
for the length
of the track.
Enjoying the familiar feeling,
the quiet,
the peace,
and the comfort of the classroom.
Different,
but the same.

Inhale, two, three, four

As the track ends,
I turn off the music,
and gently bring their awareness
back to the classroom.
I remind them
to notice how they feel,
and that their feelings,
or sensations,
during their practice,
are natural,
as are having none at all.
I encourage them
to simply pay attention
to how they feel.

Hold, two

I also invite them
to share
any feelings, ideas
or their experience,
but as is the norm,
they say nothing.
I pause to give them
the chance
to respond,
just long enough
so the silence is
awkward,
and it is clear
I really want
a response.
Then I laugh,
because I am not surprised,
and their silence
is funny,
and we continue
with the business
of the day.
It is the first day,
and it already feels,
as though we never left.

Exhale, two, three, four

After break,
my switch class arrives,
as once again,
I share my class
with a teaching partner, Mr. E,
I am lucky,
to have two great partners.
His homeroom,
my switch class,
is also made up,
of many of my grade 7 students
from both classes,
with whom I am very happy
to be working again
including Student A,
who has grown so much,
and a few other boys,
whose letters' I don't remember
from last year,
and so we will see
how they appear this year.

Inhale, two, three, four,

This class has a few
random students,
one from another school,
another, one lone student,
a girl,
the only from one of the grade 7 classrooms,
who I imagine was the
casualty of a switch
that had to made to support
another student,
and who I also imagine,
will do fine in the end.

Hold, two

Among the boys
from another grade 7 class,
is also a boy
with high needs,
and many challenges,
academic, social
and behaviour issues,
through no fault of his own,
simply no impulse control.
We have a relationship,
this student, Student B,
in my switch class,
a good rapport
from last year,
though this is the first time
he is in my class.

Exhale, two, three, four

I knew what I was getting into,
as much as that's possible,
with students like Student B,
but it was evident within moments
of his arrival,
and the beginning of the class,
that he is very needy,
and will be extremely demanding,
even more than Student A,
who had an excellent start.

Inhale, two, three, four

I went through the same introduction
and explanation
as I had
earlier that morning.
Student A,
and his buddy,
who was in the other class last year,
settled quickly,
participated in the discussion,
and only needed a shh or two
to stay  focused.
But Student B,
had a harder time,
ripping up paper,
poking the people around him,
and fidgeting in his chair.
In the other class,
he has a rocking chair,
and a stool,
which we brought
to my room.

Hold, two

It helped a little,
but not enough,
to help him be quiet,
as I turned off the lights
and started the music.
I immediately stood behind him
as I welcomed the class
to grade 8
and their first meditation of the year.
Employing the
rule of proximity,
I didn't move for the rest
of the meditation.

Exhale, two, three, four

Standing behind Student B,
I guided them through the prompts,
as I had earlier that morning,
and noted Student A,
sitting up straight,
hands fold on the desk in front of him,
with his eyes closed.
I he remained that way,
focused on his breath
throughout the meditation.
The EA,
who is working with them both
again this year- bless his soul-
and I caught eyes,
and took delight,
in his focus,
attitude
and growth.
Even if it doesn't
last long,
the intention is there,
and he will keep growing.

Inhale, two, three, four

I was also very grateful,
as Student B clearly needed me.
A few minutes in,
I tried to move away from him,
and began to circle the room,
but within seconds,
he was poking the boy
beside him.
And so I stood behind him,
encouraging him to relax,
and allowing him to be
quiet.
I think it worked
a little,
enough
for the first day.
At least,
he didn't bother
everybody else.

Hold, two

And so the five and a half minutes
passed much more slowly
than in the previous class,
but in the end,
it is only five and a half minutes.
No big surprise,
that no one in my switch class
took me up on the invitation
to share
anything either,
but it was good start,
good enough anyway.

Exhale, two, three, four

The first meditations
of the year,
on another first day
in grade 8,
are not a first.
But this is
the first time,
I have ever
written a poem
about them.

The same, but different.
Different, but the same.