Balance, Classroom Leadership, Peace/Harmony, Self Care, Transformation of the Adult

Reclaiming Joy

I have never run a marathon.  In fact, those of you who know me personally are probably doubled over in laughter at the very idea.  (You’re welcome for that image!)  But even with my limited knowledge of track and field, I know that running a marathon requires far more than just lacing up the trainers and pounding the pavement for 42.2 km.  It requires far different physical and mental preparation than, for example, running a 100 m sprint.

THE PANDEMIC TRACK-AND-FIELD EVENT

When COVID first became a pandemic, some believed and most hoped that this would be a sprint – a short footrace with throngs of energetic well-wishers, cheering us across the finish line.  Quite to the contrary, it has been a cross-country race of an indeterminate length, full of ups and downs and hazards (human-made and natural).  Further, we had little or no advance notice that we would be running this marathon; we merely responded when we heard the firing of the starter’s pistol. 

“GO!”

Part way through the race, we are confronting the fact that this is, indeed, a marathon for which we did not train.  It is becoming more and more clear that COVID will be with us for most or all of this school year.  Throughout this time and into the future, our commitment to serving the children remains unchanged – we are dedicated to completing the course.  And so, it is time (probably long past time) to hit the pause button and look at our strategies for serving the child as effectively as possible while preserving enough of our energy to sustain us for the duration of the race

SPRINTERS, GRINDERS, AND MARATHONERS

We each have our own tempo and style when it comes to exercise – we have our go-to activities that we find most effective.  So, too, we have our own tempo and style for managing our work.  In a more typical year, we can find a way to honor our natural rhythm achieving peak performance, tailoring our mindset and our strategies to fit our internal clock.  We can choose to run a series of sprints, a relay, or a marathon, catching a breather, grabbing some water, or pausing to stretch when we most need it.  This year, however, the course has been chosen for us.

Sprinters

(Image by RyanMcGuire from Pixabay)

Even I know that trying to run a marathon or a cross country race by full-out sprinting is unlikely to end well; a long race over unfamiliar and sometimes unpredictable terrain requires strategic focus, pacing, and intentionality.   The hazard to long-distance sprinting is that it simply is not sustainable over the long haul – even the best athletes simply run out of steam before the end, collapsing in exhaustion.  And yet that is what some of us are doing – pressuring ourselves to meet everyone’s needs and expectations quickly – before the next pivot, whenever that may be and whichever direction it might turn us.  Sprinters race through the day or the week, only to turn around to do it again, filled with trepidation that we might be falling behind or missing something.  Ping… ping…ping…crash!                      

Grinders

Some of us have a style that is more like that of a work-horse, straining steadily and relentlessly to drag a plow through the field like the pictured French women during WW I. This work style doesn’t focus so much on speed, but on accomplishing the goal at any cost.  The hazard to grinding through a course of work manifests when encountering that proverbial rock in the field.  Work-horses feel the impediment and pull harder and/or longer.  Sheer grit, determination, and stubbornness sustain the effort until one of two things happens; either the rock finally comes loose – sometimes flinging wildly about as it is freed – or the plow breaks.  We grinders will sometimes throw ourselves willfully at a task without evaluating whether the task merits that level of effort.  Is the rock really an impediment that needs to be removed?  Could we go around it?  Could it be a boundary marker?  Could it just be a patch where seeds fall on the rock and don’t germinate, to no real detriment?  We work-horses plunge in and ask questions later. Pull…pull…pull…duck!

Becoming a Marathoner

(Image by skeeze from Pixabay)

Recognizing that we are in the middle of a Marathon is half the battle.  The other half is making choices that increase our long-term effectiveness.  No one is going to do this for us – we must do it for ourselves, for each other, and for the children.  Here are but a few ideas to start the ball rolling.  

We pace ourselves.  We can’t do it all – nor should we.  By acknowledging that not everything warrants racing to respond, we can mindfully decide what is worthy of our attention.  We preserve nimbleness and adaptability by making mindful choices of how to spend our precious resources of time and energy.  What things are truly essential?  Which are remnants from a program/protocol/practice that is no longer needed?  What produces deep engagement?  Which habits or practices are no longer providing a return on time invested?  Consider adult practices and activities with the children.  Does alphabetizing spelling words teach spelling?  Has the daily sharing of “butterflies and boulders” at the end of the day gone stale, hearing the same responses day after day; is the moderate feeling of closure at the end of the day worth the time that it takes or could it be replaced with something that might bear more fruit? 

Sometimes we do not have the latitude to change or drop a practice on our own.  In this case, we self-advocate and advocate for one another and for the children – a skill that most of us need to better develop.   This is particularly true when a teacher’s list of responsibilities is growing or changing.  When a new task or protocol is passed on, we generally are provided with sufficient clarity about what the task is and when it must be done; sometimes the new task even comes with instructions on how to accomplish the task.  Armed with this information, we typically dash off to implement it.  However, consider the effect of diplomatically asking for time to have a positive, proactive discussion about what will be restructured, diminished, or removed to make space for the new task. 

  • Can collaboration between classrooms streamline implementation, such as gathering all children who need to take a given assessment to one teacher, freeing another teacher to focus on children who are in-person with lessons and materials?
  • Is there a common need across all classrooms that could be effectively managed by a single staff member, like working with children from all classrooms that are temporarily isolating at home, ensuring that they have daily contact and are completing meaningful work during their 2-week quarantine? 
  • Is there a staff member (classroom teacher, specialist, administrator, or support staff) with a particular skill who can be the point person for a given activity, protocol or report? 

The absolute inviolate truth is that if we do not choose what to restructure or let go to make space for something new, the choice will be made by default.  This often results in things like planning, record-keeping, observation, and self-care being reduced or eliminated – an unsustainable model in a Montessori classroom.

We ask for help when we feel that we are going beyond our capacity.  Remember that help can come from a wide variety of sources: 

  • Are there tasks that we can entrust to a child, such as making sure that the children who are logging in remotely are present and ready to go (a short extension from taking attendance) or for gathering a materials from a teacher-provided list and setting them up at a lesson table just prior to the lesson? 
  • Can we ask our parents if they would like to volunteer to occasionally pick up supplies for the classroom, give online spelling dictation, drill math facts remotely, launder work rugs, or do some other routine task, clearing the way for things that only a Montessorian can do? 
  • Can a parent with special computer skills design an online activity for the children in response to an upcoming lesson (per teacher parameters, of course)? 
  • Is there a co-worker with whom we can explore applying the concept of “divide and conquer” to teacher duties?
  • Do we feel able to go to an administrator and ask for help in prioritizing tasks when we feel we can’t get it all done in a timely manner? 
  • Is there someone in the community who would make an interesting guest speaker on a relevant topic of interest?  Some of my greatest coups were inviting a local chiropractor to speak on the skeletal system and inviting a parent who had been on an expedition to Antarctica to share photos and artifacts from his expedition.

We promote and maintain hope.  Beyond the daily necessities, there is only one thing that we cannot live without – hope.  No matter how discouraged we feel, this pandemic will come to an end.  History tells us so.  So does Dr. Anthony Fauci.  🙂   We cannot lose sight of the fact that this current circumstance is temporary, nor can we allow our children to fall into despair. Remember that for some of our elementary children, the pandemic and all of its restrictions and protocols have been front and center for as much as 15% of their lifetime and as much as half of their school career; their memory of “normal” may be fading. 

Uncertainty over when and how the virus will be brought down can make it feel as though we will never be past this time of hyper-vigilance, but this is a logical fallacy.  Our uncertainties do not empower or embolden the virus.  This pandemic will end at a time and in a manner yet to be determined.  And so, we must make friends with uncertainty, relinquishing the desire to know and the need to control.  Will the pandemic end today?  No.  Will it end?  Absolutely.  Will any amount of worry over timing or manner of the end of the pandemic accelerate its demise?  Nope.   Including line-time discussions about the realities and misapprehensions of COVID, studying the history of past pandemics, studying character traits like patience, perseverance, and trust, and engaging children in activities that promote gratitude can go a long way to helping children live in hope. 

We reclaim joyJoy is not something that Dr. Montessori specifically identified as a Fundamental Need or as a Human Tendency, but it is a powerful stabilizing force, especially in times of rapid change.  Make no mistake – joy is different from happiness.  Joy is a state of being, consistent and inherently less disrupt-able than happiness.  According to Psychologies (https://www.psychologies.co.uk/joy-vs-happiness), “Joy is … cultivated internally. It comes when you make peace with who you are, why you are and how you are, whereas happiness tends to be externally triggered and is based on other people, things, places, thoughts and events.”   Joy has the ability to sustain us, whereas happiness must continually be renewed. 

What does joy look like?  Google Images of Pure Joy.  Do it now – I’ll wait.

Some are clearly posed, but others are authentic joy captured like lightning in a bottle.  Many images are children or animals, who have fewer “rules” about how to express joy.  Which speaks most to you?   When do you manifest pure joy? What makes you “dance as if no one is watching”? 

This deep and abiding contentment can pop up unexpectedly or can creep in gradually.  It is most certainly part of what Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi described as “flow” – when we become so involved in our work that nothing else seems to matter.  It also can come from authentically, successfully striving to meet a Fundamental Need or to manifest a Human Tendency, independently or in concert with a loved one.  And it can come from helping others to meet their Fundamental Needs, through giving of ourselves.

Mastering Marathoning

By mindfully choosing how to spend our time and energy resources, advocating for ourselves and others in our circle and asking for help when we need it, we increase our effectiveness.  When we anchor ourselves in hope and joy, we build our resiliency and endurance for the long road ahead. 

REFLECTIONS

Reflection One for Adults:  What element(s) in your daily or weekly routine seems to consume a disproportionate amount of time/energy?  How can these ill-effects be mitigated within your classroom?  Which might benefit from collaboration from peers and other staff members?   When they are mitigated, will you choose to spend your time/energy on greater planning, record-keeping, observation, or self-care?  (Remember that Nature abhors a vacuum.  If you create space and don’t intentionally fill it with what you want/need, something will fill it for you!)

Reflection Two for Adults:  Where is the joy in your classroom?  If there is little or none right now, how can you create it?  (Note: the answer might involve slowing down, simplifying, and offering greater choice rather than adding something more.)

Reflection One for Children:  What brings you deep, authentic joy?  How can you increase hope and joy in your daily life?

Image by Daniela Dimitrova from Pixabay 

“We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy.”

Joseph Campbell, American professor of literature and author, 1904-1987

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