Serene Courage

It always surprises me in the fall when the leaves begin to turn.  Seemingly overnight, select clumps of leaves on a few trees and shrubs pop as if testing the conditions for the remainder. This year, we seem to have schools following suit – some are part of the advance party, testing the conditions for in-person and online return to school, with others soon to follow. 

The rhythm of our northern-hemisphere school year, deeply rooted in our agrarian past, flows almost in opposition to Nature’s.  Just as Nature begins to ebb, we begin to flow.  Just as Nature prepares for a long slumber, we prepare to sow seeds, to fertilize, to water, to weed, and to watch what sprouts and grows.  In a way, Nature makes space for us to expand – to take a place of prominence in the lives of our children and their families for the next 9 months. 

Of course, this year’s season of rebirth doesn’t have the singular focus of a more typical year.  The opening usually left for us is already crowded with significant events and concerns – for us and for the families we support.  As the school year begins, whether it is online or in-person, there will be new precautions and protocols.  Many will also be learning or refining new online skills.  Hopefully, most or all of us will also be receiving training on culturally responsive teaching practices and on increasing inclusivity in our classrooms.  These are all elements that are vital to our success this year and into the future.  What that means is that, if we are to make space for these new elements AND preserve the energy, time, and bandwidth that we need for our work with the children, we must guard against things that use our resources without returning a benefit to us and/or our children.  

In essence, we need to make friends with uncertainty.

Change is scary for most of us; uncertainty is doubly so.  When we can’t envision our ultimate destination, we feel that we can’t adequately plan.  Our normal response is to dedicate resources to attempting to better define the unknown so that we can be prepared for any and all upcoming change.   This is how we defend ourselves against the unexpected. 

The issue with employing that normal line of defense to today’s situation is that we are in a period of radical change with a truly uncertain outcome – no one’s crystal ball is working well.  To compound the difficulties, our fundamental paradigms, big and small, are being challenged and reformed, and so are those of everyone around us. 

• Teachers and families alike have lost their anchor in the once-sacrosanct rhythm of the school year. 
• People around the globe are being challenged to re-examine their own attitudes towards privilege and racism. 
• Montessorians of (ahem) a certain age are having to face the need to adapt to the digital age.
•  Even our fundamental beliefs about the boundary between individual freedom and the needs of the common good are being called into question. 

How do we navigate this assault on our paradigms while embracing uncertainty with grace?  By having, as The Serenity Prayer says, “the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can;  and wisdom to know the difference.”  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Serenity_Prayer

Serenity and courage, at first blush, seem to be polar opposite states of being.  Is serene courage attainable?  Can we be courageously serene? 

Courage is not blind fearlessness.  It is knowing the risks or uncertainties and choosing to go forward despite them.  Courage is pivoting on a dime from in-person to distance learning in the middle of the school year while navigating a proliferation of well-meaning and often conflicting advice about all aspects of the change – what my husband calls “building the airplane in mid-air”.  Courage is knowing the many uncertainties that this year poses and choosing to return to work with children and families in spite of them.  Brené Brown says, “You can choose courage, or you can choose comfort, but you cannot choose both.”  Teachers who have chosen to be with children this year have already chosen courage. 

But what about serenity?  How do we find peace in the midst of chaos?

First, we must be brutally honest with ourselves about our limited control in these circumstances.  We cannot control the virus, nor anyone’s response to it other than our own.  We cannot control decisions made by the school, district, state, or country about how to respond to the pandemic.  We cannot even control the technology that we will be so reliant on when we are teaching online – bandwidth will come and go and things that seemed to work effectively one day will create a “rabbit hole” the next. 

Secondly, we must be aware that the more we desire to control the outcome, the more likely we are to have a clouded perception of how much we influence.  This encourages us to over-reach, focusing valuable time and energy on trying to change that which is immutable (at least at this time) or on being critical of others who haven’t done what we think they should or who have done what we think they shouldn’t.  Remember the adage, “Misery loves company”?  We want to know that we are not alone in our discomfort.  But in some ways, bemoaning circumstances or decisions that have been thrust upon us in some ways is like scratching an itch: it feels better in the moment, but the itch will return and we are likely to bloody ourselves a bit in the process. 

We find peace – and maybe even serenity – when our efforts yield positive results.  The good news is that, once we have met basic expectations of our school, the choice of where to direct our professional efforts is within our ability to control.  When we choose to focus our energy on things that nurture our children (and ourselves) academically, socially, emotionally, and spiritually, we will find greater peace.  This choice becomes self-reinforcing; small successes nudge us to redirect more discretionary energy to further nurture the children.  Here are a few thoughts and reminders to help find that path.

• Getting to know the precious humans that have been entrusted to us is always a priority at the beginning of the year; this year it is more important than ever.  Children were shut out of their schools last Spring with little or no warning.  Some lost not only access to the classroom and to friends but also access to meals.  For others, it meant losing a place where they are loved.  For all, it meant losing the certainty of “tomorrow”.  Our first goal this year is not academic – it is to establish trust.  Children need to know that whether distance learning is part of the start-up plan or a looming probability on the horizon, our community is our community and that their teachers are there to support them to become the best possible version of themselves no matter what happens.  Parents need to know that we do not expect them to home-school their children; we expect them to provide the resources needed if possible, and to collaborate with teachers to be sure that the children’s needs are met.  We can call on our collective experience of last Spring (good experiences as well as lessons learned) to build the faith and trust that together, we can handle anything.
• That old chestnut of having an “attitude of gratitude” earned its status as an old chestnut because it is timelessly true.  It circumvents the scarcity mentality that can be so seductive and so debilitating.  Start each day with a mantra that keeps the focus on the near term and on the possible.  It might be, “Today, I have exactly what I need to be exactly who I need to be for my children.” 
• There is great temptation right now to think, “If only I had the right resources, my year would be easier and/or more authentic.”  This can send us scurrying around from one website or Facebook group to another, seeking out self-help YouTube videos or digital Montessori material that will prepare us for every eventuality in the classroom. The truth is that we don’t need every material that is in our Montessori classroom to be available in a digital format, nor do we need to know Seesaw AND Flip Grid AND Kahoot AND every other app that some other teacher is raving about.  Remember that the more technology you use, the more technology the children have to learn before they can enjoy it and learn from it.  Start with what you have.  Seek out new solutions only for problems that you and your class are experiencing.  Make sure that your needs are well defined.  Then, turn to colleagues within your own school and on Montessori social media platforms for suggestions.  There are a plethora of solutions out there – there is no need to reinvent them! And throughout it all, remember that your best resource is you!
• Any time you feel the urge to perseverate on what has been lost, make the conscious choice to refocus.   Name three things that you already have at your disposal that make you more effective with the children/families.  Identify three things that you know now that you didn’t last Spring.  List three things that you want to continue to do when we are allowed back in brick-and-mortar classrooms.  Reflect on three unexpected successes from last year.  This will suppress the fear and hopelessness that precludes discovery and joy.
• Focus on the children – not in pity, but as the spiritual embryos that they are – and help them become natives of their own time and space.  If we infuse this time with them with grace and a sense of hope and adventure, perhaps they will find uncertainty less daunting than we do. 
• Take full advantage of the time that we find ourselves in today.  Making connections and building inclusion in the classroom community may be richer and more poignant than ever this year as we expand our ideas of what constitutes a person’s culture.  Now more than ever, there are plentiful resources for helping children explore and express their culture and additional resources for understanding the ways in which our culture shapes our views and our self-talk – often without our express permission.  We have a unique opportunity right now to touch the future and to make it a more equitable and inclusive place if we only take the opportunity to do so.
• Reconnect deeply to Montessori Philosophy and rely on what we know about children, their needs, and how they best learn.  As our friend, Letty Rising said in her article Building Distance Learning around the Psychological Characteristics of the Elementary Child, “You can do Montessori without the materials, but you can’t do it without the philosophy.”  ( https://www.trilliummontessori.org/distance-learning-elementary-child/) Use what we know to help parents better understand their children as students and their role as parents of children in transition. 
• Let go of the need to know, acknowledging that letting go is an act of courage.  Courage is a muscle – the more you practice, the easier the work.  Be kind to yourself as you build your courage muscle. 
• Remember that we human beings teach human beings.  Show your humanity. passion and compassion because that is the authentic connection that we all crave. 

We have a choice.  We can gird ourselves for the trudge or we can step lightly into the next great adventure.  We can be drawn in by well-meaning people droning on with long faces using pseudo-empathetic phrases like “in these challenging times”, or we can choose to relegate what we can’t impact to background noise.  When someone offers authentic support or help for a problem that we actually have identified, we say yes with enthusiasm and gratitude.   We can do this hard thing.  Again.

“One isn’t necessarily born with courage, but one is born with potential.  Without courage, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency.  We can’t be kind, true, merciful, generous, or honest.”

-Maya Angelou

Image by John Hain from Pixabay