One of the beautiful benefits of continuing to wonder, to ask the "why" of things, and to play with possibilities, is that I find myself living with more intention. What an awesome consequence for asking questions, no?
Wondering brings about a broader awareness of the world. Whether you find "answers" or not, you recognize possibilities lurking everywhere. Today I got to witness it firsthand.
A student approached me today saying she wondered if she might talk to me about creativity for a minute. My ears perked up.
"Absolutely Sylvia, you're already speakin' my language."
"Well sir, yesterday my family and I jumped around house, because it was something silly to do."
I'm not sure where this is going. "Tell me more," I invite. She's full-out laughing now. I can't mask my confusion.
"We were bored, and we were looking for something to do together as a family." Shes calming herself down now. "I kept thinking how we could be doing something fun with our time, something different. I really love doing DCA, so I suggested we act like dinosaurs. We made a game of it, Mr. Love, it was hilarious."
"Wow Sylvia, that's incredible. I'm so happy to hear that."
"Thank you sir, I wanted to share the story with you."
And the dream continues...
Why do we spend our time the way we do? What other possibilities are there?
Yours willfully,
Brandon
P.S. An enlightening perspective?
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Project Wonder - Day 31 - Feedback II
Yesterday I wrote about striving to be an anti-oppression educator.
Today I'm wondering just how much I'm actually fulfilling my aims.
I devoted classes yesterday to collecting feedback from students in the form of an anonymous survey, and I interviewed them one by one to learn how I might better support their learning goals. After the first three interviews I was overwhelmed with the realization that these students have so much to say, about their personal learning habits, the structure and organization of the class, and about my teaching. By the end of the day I had taken enough notes to publish a thesis on the value of creating spaces for others to share their voice.
It also occurred to me that this was the first time I had really empowered their voices.
It's not that I've been resistant to accepting feedback and ideas from students. But I had been under the assumption they would volunteer their opinions. Until I actively invited feedback from the students as individuals, they had suppressed their ideas.
And why wouldn't they remain silent? As anyone who's ever been through any sort of education system knows, the teacher's word is often final. Sometimes we learn to see teachers as disciplinarians, keepers of some rigid behavioural code that rejects any different or original ideas.
The question, of course, is what exactly is the desired standard of behaviour? Is it obedience to authority? Is it respect for others? Is it something else altogether, or some combination of them all? And who decides on this standard?
The teacher is often viewed as the enforcer, but the standard is perhaps derived more systematically, trained into teachers from their own educational experiences. There's an argument to be made that so much of our moral compass is blindly inherited through the practices of educators, including parents.
And here I am touting myself as an educator who's interested in empowering students to be willing to share their ideas. Yet for most of the semester so far, I've failed to do just that! Perhaps I haven't actively enforced a code of silence on the students, but I certainly haven't done much to encourage valuing, sharing, and learning from their independent ideas either. Whose classroom is it anyway?
Come to think of it, I don't really receive voluntary feedback from any sources in my life. Perhaps I give off this aura that people detect as being unopen to receiving feedback. Or perhaps the impulse to offer feedback has been learned out of us by an invisible moral agenda in schools. We learn that receiving constructive criticism is associated with failing, and failing is associated with shame. We also learn that sharing ideas is impolite.
These learnings are not completely fruitless, of course. I'm sure we all know an "oversharer" whose opinions are frequently heard without invitation. I know several people who would benefit from the understanding that always offering an opinion can be alienating, and even oppressive.
But perhaps what we need to learn is not that sharing ideas itself is impolite. But rather the act of coercing others to listen, or worse, accept our ideas is disrespectful. That it's not something we'd want to experience ourselves, so we shouldn't do it to others. Perhaps we need to learn that sharing and receiving feedback is not about attacking or praising individuals, but rather about attacking or praising ideas for the sake of the continued improvement of individuals.
I think much of this modern behaviour rests on the philosophical foundation that we are our ideas. Meaniong when I have a perceived "successful" idea, it is I who is successful for having birthed the idea. By the same logic, ideas that fail are representative of me as a failure. The ego gets caught up in defense.
And yet who am I, if not my ideas?
Feedback is essential in the problem-solving process. Yesterday I caught myself in the practice of a top-down feedback relationship with the students. Is there a way we can learn to be open to considering the ideas of others, to welcome feedback and offer it willingly, as a gesture not of "correction" but of support and for the sake of solving problems sooner? What does this practice look like in education?
Perhaps this solvation of the ego into the shared ideas of the broader community is part of the evolution of our species. Or perhaps not.
Thank you for considering.
Yours in a loop,
Brandon
Today I'm wondering just how much I'm actually fulfilling my aims.
I devoted classes yesterday to collecting feedback from students in the form of an anonymous survey, and I interviewed them one by one to learn how I might better support their learning goals. After the first three interviews I was overwhelmed with the realization that these students have so much to say, about their personal learning habits, the structure and organization of the class, and about my teaching. By the end of the day I had taken enough notes to publish a thesis on the value of creating spaces for others to share their voice.
It also occurred to me that this was the first time I had really empowered their voices.
It's not that I've been resistant to accepting feedback and ideas from students. But I had been under the assumption they would volunteer their opinions. Until I actively invited feedback from the students as individuals, they had suppressed their ideas.
And why wouldn't they remain silent? As anyone who's ever been through any sort of education system knows, the teacher's word is often final. Sometimes we learn to see teachers as disciplinarians, keepers of some rigid behavioural code that rejects any different or original ideas.
The question, of course, is what exactly is the desired standard of behaviour? Is it obedience to authority? Is it respect for others? Is it something else altogether, or some combination of them all? And who decides on this standard?
The teacher is often viewed as the enforcer, but the standard is perhaps derived more systematically, trained into teachers from their own educational experiences. There's an argument to be made that so much of our moral compass is blindly inherited through the practices of educators, including parents.
And here I am touting myself as an educator who's interested in empowering students to be willing to share their ideas. Yet for most of the semester so far, I've failed to do just that! Perhaps I haven't actively enforced a code of silence on the students, but I certainly haven't done much to encourage valuing, sharing, and learning from their independent ideas either. Whose classroom is it anyway?
Come to think of it, I don't really receive voluntary feedback from any sources in my life. Perhaps I give off this aura that people detect as being unopen to receiving feedback. Or perhaps the impulse to offer feedback has been learned out of us by an invisible moral agenda in schools. We learn that receiving constructive criticism is associated with failing, and failing is associated with shame. We also learn that sharing ideas is impolite.
These learnings are not completely fruitless, of course. I'm sure we all know an "oversharer" whose opinions are frequently heard without invitation. I know several people who would benefit from the understanding that always offering an opinion can be alienating, and even oppressive.
But perhaps what we need to learn is not that sharing ideas itself is impolite. But rather the act of coercing others to listen, or worse, accept our ideas is disrespectful. That it's not something we'd want to experience ourselves, so we shouldn't do it to others. Perhaps we need to learn that sharing and receiving feedback is not about attacking or praising individuals, but rather about attacking or praising ideas for the sake of the continued improvement of individuals.
I think much of this modern behaviour rests on the philosophical foundation that we are our ideas. Meaniong when I have a perceived "successful" idea, it is I who is successful for having birthed the idea. By the same logic, ideas that fail are representative of me as a failure. The ego gets caught up in defense.
And yet who am I, if not my ideas?
Feedback is essential in the problem-solving process. Yesterday I caught myself in the practice of a top-down feedback relationship with the students. Is there a way we can learn to be open to considering the ideas of others, to welcome feedback and offer it willingly, as a gesture not of "correction" but of support and for the sake of solving problems sooner? What does this practice look like in education?
Perhaps this solvation of the ego into the shared ideas of the broader community is part of the evolution of our species. Or perhaps not.
Thank you for considering.
Yours in a loop,
Brandon
Monday, October 29, 2012
Project Wonder - Days 27-30 - Rooms
What is the largest room in the world?
This is a question I used to pose to my karate students. Common answers include "Skydome" and "the Earth". Today I asked the psychology class and had one student answer "this mind," which I liked.
The answer to the riddle, in case you're curious, is the room for improvement. That's the largest room in the world. Groan.
But it is thought worth thinking, that one can always get better. And now at the beginning of the second half of the semester I find myself taking stock of the many Improvement Rooms in my life.
I find it's so easy to get stuck in a way that seems "good enough". We establish patterns of thinking and behaving that serve their function and we settle into them. Once something seems to work, why bother fixing it?
But if we don't stop to check in on our ways every once in a while, we may stop growing completely, and shut ourselves off from opportunities and possibilities to enrich our lives.
But if we don't stop to check in on our ways every once in a while, we may stop growing completely, and shut ourselves off from opportunities and possibilities to enrich our lives.
This weekend I traveled westward for a little beachside reflection. The change of scenery was an improvement in itself, and I came back to school this morning feeling rejuvenated. While on the beach, I spent some time thinking about my strengths and weaknesses as an educator. Today I invited the students to share some feedback with me regarding our classes. It's amazing how far a little feedback and reflection can go. I've identified some huge Improvement Rooms that I barely even considered before. I was able to check in on my personal goals as an educator and dig deeper into the Why I chose to teach in the first place. This whole process of self-assessment has been very refreshing.
Speaking of rooms, I also had the chance to visit the various spaces of the Cape Coast Castle, which provide enough fodder for a million questions about the nature of human existence. This gorgeous 17th century structure was the launching point for some 2 million abducted African people who would be sold as slaves in America and Europe. How could such a beautiful place harbour a history of unimaginable atrocities? I stood in incredibly small dungeons and pondered the cruelty and abuses our species inflicted on one another. I thought about the perceptions humans must have held of one another, and the "dehumanizing" that must have occurred in order to inflict such suffering. I thought about how much we have improved with respect to our respect for one another, and I wondered just how much more improving we can do.
Early on in the psychology class, we had a class discussion about bullying, and the increasingly extreme consequences of our hurtful behaviour in today's world. At the time the class seemed to agree that "bullying is just a fact of life, something we all have to deal with." I challenged the class to consider what it meant if one person learned that it was okay to exert their will over another's. What would happen if this behaviour was considered "just a fact of life"?
This weekend I was reminded of the responsibility we have in ensuring the well-being of one another. I was reminded of my own educational aim to help students discover the roots of injustice, and to encourage openness and love of diversity in all its forms.
There is so much room for growth and connection and better living. I hope I continue to develop the capacity to help others realize their rooms, and stretch their minds in them a bit.
Thank you for reading,
Yours in self-improvement,
Brandon
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Project Wonder - Day 26 - Firsts
Currently I'm sitting at my first ever teacher's desk, watching my first ever students complete the first midterm exam I've ever prepared.
Today has been especially rich in "first ever" experiences. In fact, my time in Ghana has been especially rich with first ever experiences. Many of the first evers have been experiences that I've never even imagined before arriving here.
First evers have the capacity to transform my adult ego to the embryonic mind of a child. They leave me with a sense of wonder and offer me fodder to broaden my perspective of the realm of possibility. And I've learned that one can develop a practice to experience first evers every day. All it takes is a little unabashed humility and willful consideration of new perspectives.
Every first ever provides an opportunity for deepening my understanding of this life. For example, sitting here at my first ever set of midterms I find myself examining my impetus for teaching, questioning the importance of the content, and asking myself why I'm here and how I'll know when I've reached my goals.
First evers, like midterms, offer pauses for reflection, adjustment and rejuvenation. Which is why I'm taking another opportunity to experience a first ever this weekend.
Tomorrow is a holiday, which means I have a three-day weekend to consider the first two months of the semester, and to prepare for the last two. I'm heading out on a bus to Cape Coast for my first ever independent travel in Ghana!
This means I won't be publishing PWs for the next couple of days, though I will still be writing them. They will be published upon my return, on Sunday or Monday.
I hope to spend the weekend reflecting on my first evers, and relishing the in the gratitude I have for these first ever opportunities.
Thank you for reading.
Yours in continued exploration,
Brandon
P.S. Check out this video shared with me by a friend which discusses the value of probing. Once the chain of questions begins, there's no telling where it ends. Or is there?
Today has been especially rich in "first ever" experiences. In fact, my time in Ghana has been especially rich with first ever experiences. Many of the first evers have been experiences that I've never even imagined before arriving here.
First evers have the capacity to transform my adult ego to the embryonic mind of a child. They leave me with a sense of wonder and offer me fodder to broaden my perspective of the realm of possibility. And I've learned that one can develop a practice to experience first evers every day. All it takes is a little unabashed humility and willful consideration of new perspectives.
Every first ever provides an opportunity for deepening my understanding of this life. For example, sitting here at my first ever set of midterms I find myself examining my impetus for teaching, questioning the importance of the content, and asking myself why I'm here and how I'll know when I've reached my goals.
First evers, like midterms, offer pauses for reflection, adjustment and rejuvenation. Which is why I'm taking another opportunity to experience a first ever this weekend.
Tomorrow is a holiday, which means I have a three-day weekend to consider the first two months of the semester, and to prepare for the last two. I'm heading out on a bus to Cape Coast for my first ever independent travel in Ghana!
This means I won't be publishing PWs for the next couple of days, though I will still be writing them. They will be published upon my return, on Sunday or Monday.
I hope to spend the weekend reflecting on my first evers, and relishing the in the gratitude I have for these first ever opportunities.
Thank you for reading.
Yours in continued exploration,
Brandon
P.S. Check out this video shared with me by a friend which discusses the value of probing. Once the chain of questions begins, there's no telling where it ends. Or is there?
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Project Wonder - Day 25 - Sun Thoughts
I have been thinking a lot about the sun lately. It's been hard not to think of the sun actually.
Every day is hot, and sunny. I'm not used to such consistency. We shared some disagreements in the beginning, the sun and I, but I think we're starting to get used to one another. I mean, it IS nice to have a bright path to walk to school every day. And the birds I so love seeing stay hidden on the rare cloudy-skied days.
I was curious today, to know just how far that bright little life-sustaining dot in the sky really was. NASA tells me its 150000000 km away. Wikipedia tells me that it takes sunlight about 8 minutes and 19 seconds to get across that distance!
We really can't comprehend how far that is. Nor can we understand how huge it must be to support our existence at that distance. Even 1 km is particularly difficult to conceive of. I often think it terms of football fields and track lengths.
We can try to understand the distance by analogy. If we took a navel orange for the sun, then the earth would be the size of a sesame seed, 49 feet away! In the distance between the sun and the earth, one could stack almost 12 000 earth clones!
These analogies help us understand such inconceivably large numbers. They help us explain ideas and perspectives to one another by allowing the listener to relate some new information to some pre-existing worldview. But do we ever fully understand what's behind the analogy? Can we ever actually conceive of the distance of the sun from earth? Or of a concept like infinity? Or of the implausibility of life as we know it? Or of consciousness itself?
Just how DO we make sense of this distant ball of fire as it energizes our delicate existence?
The sun's got me thinking about thinking. Thank you for reading.
Inconceivably yours,
Brandon
P.S. My thoughts turned down a little when I watched this video of a huge solar flare that caused a radio wave interruption here on planet Earth just a few days ago. !!!
Every day is hot, and sunny. I'm not used to such consistency. We shared some disagreements in the beginning, the sun and I, but I think we're starting to get used to one another. I mean, it IS nice to have a bright path to walk to school every day. And the birds I so love seeing stay hidden on the rare cloudy-skied days.
I was curious today, to know just how far that bright little life-sustaining dot in the sky really was. NASA tells me its 150000000 km away. Wikipedia tells me that it takes sunlight about 8 minutes and 19 seconds to get across that distance!
We really can't comprehend how far that is. Nor can we understand how huge it must be to support our existence at that distance. Even 1 km is particularly difficult to conceive of. I often think it terms of football fields and track lengths.
We can try to understand the distance by analogy. If we took a navel orange for the sun, then the earth would be the size of a sesame seed, 49 feet away! In the distance between the sun and the earth, one could stack almost 12 000 earth clones!
These analogies help us understand such inconceivably large numbers. They help us explain ideas and perspectives to one another by allowing the listener to relate some new information to some pre-existing worldview. But do we ever fully understand what's behind the analogy? Can we ever actually conceive of the distance of the sun from earth? Or of a concept like infinity? Or of the implausibility of life as we know it? Or of consciousness itself?
Just how DO we make sense of this distant ball of fire as it energizes our delicate existence?
The sun's got me thinking about thinking. Thank you for reading.
Inconceivably yours,
Brandon
P.S. My thoughts turned down a little when I watched this video of a huge solar flare that caused a radio wave interruption here on planet Earth just a few days ago. !!!
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Project Wonder - Day 24 - Creating Space
I came across this really great webcomic today:
Despite the language being a bit harsh (i.e. "crackpot") I found the advice to be refreshing. I find it so easy to be defensive in the face of different theories, especially when I consider those theories outlandish. When two parties are busy defending the result is endless warring of opinion. We become attached to ideas that believe to be right (not a bad thing) but we often forget that other people are also attached to their own "right ideas". And as the comic suggests, there is usually a logic to their thinking.
As a teacher I've come up against many ideas in my students that I find difficult to believe myself. I focus on trying to create space for the students to feel safe challenging their assumptions and questioning their own ideas, rather than projecting and defending my ideas and worldview onto them.
What if we were less defensive? What would that world look and feel like? What if we could learn from even the most "crackpot" of theories? What if there was no such thing as a "crackpot theory"?
Thank you for reading.
Yours non-judgmentally,
Brandon
Monday, October 22, 2012
Project Wonder - Day 23 - Creativity
Creativity is definitely a subject that swims through my stream of consciousness constantly. It grows the roots of my reasons for loving and playing with magic, and for wanting to teach, and work with others who want to learn. People (students) are inherently creative, and I often feel that we have a responsibility to one another to practice creativity regularly.
Today we watched Sir Ken at the beginning of Psychology. As part of the cognition unit we get to spend a day or two on creativity.
I invited the class to share any reactions.
Stephanie raised her hand at the back of the room, "I think he makes some really good points... school usually feels like its a way for us to get into university, to get a good job."
"A good education means a good job" says another.
"What does it mean, to have a 'good job'?" I posed.
"It's about ensuring you are happy. You know, with a family, and money. To have a good life." A thoughtful response, full of questions itself.
We had a really engaging discussion about the strengths and weaknesses of school as we know it, and considered whether we might benefit from learning to be more creative. Students got really philosophical, questions were flying around the room. One of my favourites:
What if school was a place to practice having original ideas without the fear of personal judgment, or rejection? Where students and teachers feel comfortable sharing these original and borrowed ideas as a community?
What if school were an end in itself? What if the creative pursuit of curiosity was enough? What would that playground look like? To ask and pursue questions in a supportive community. A place where risk taking is safe, and guided. Where we acknowledge our wrongfulness and find value in failing.
Is it possible that a formal education could be worth more than a good future job or a good future life?
What is the "good life"? Great question.
"The Good of man is the active exercise of his souls faculties in conformity with excellence or virtue" - Aristotle
Thanks Aristotle
I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation today. I hope the students did too. One student asked if we could do another DCA in light of the conversation. So we spent the rest of class brainsprouting a list of barriers to developing one's creativity. It was a good day indeed.
Thanking you for reading,
Brandon
Today we watched Sir Ken at the beginning of Psychology. As part of the cognition unit we get to spend a day or two on creativity.
I invited the class to share any reactions.
Stephanie raised her hand at the back of the room, "I think he makes some really good points... school usually feels like its a way for us to get into university, to get a good job."
"A good education means a good job" says another.
"What does it mean, to have a 'good job'?" I posed.
"It's about ensuring you are happy. You know, with a family, and money. To have a good life." A thoughtful response, full of questions itself.
We had a really engaging discussion about the strengths and weaknesses of school as we know it, and considered whether we might benefit from learning to be more creative. Students got really philosophical, questions were flying around the room. One of my favourites:
"Is us, being here right now, just a means to an ends? Is school just a stepping stone to something else?"
And I caught this thought as the conversation shifted to the value of creativity, and in learning to be more creative.
"I really think it's important to have original ideas and not be afraid to share them"
What if school was a place to practice having original ideas without the fear of personal judgment, or rejection? Where students and teachers feel comfortable sharing these original and borrowed ideas as a community?
What if school were an end in itself? What if the creative pursuit of curiosity was enough? What would that playground look like? To ask and pursue questions in a supportive community. A place where risk taking is safe, and guided. Where we acknowledge our wrongfulness and find value in failing.
Is it possible that a formal education could be worth more than a good future job or a good future life?
What is the "good life"? Great question.
"The Good of man is the active exercise of his souls faculties in conformity with excellence or virtue" - Aristotle
Thanks Aristotle
I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation today. I hope the students did too. One student asked if we could do another DCA in light of the conversation. So we spent the rest of class brainsprouting a list of barriers to developing one's creativity. It was a good day indeed.
Thanking you for reading,
Brandon
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