Tuesday SOL What am I going to do?

This is a Tuesday
Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day. 

Check out the Two Writing Teachers website for many more reflections on teaching.

I haven't written a blog post or a slice in several weeks. To be honest, I've had a good bit of a writer's block with early childhood reflections - have I used up all my thinking? I'm sure that is not so. I feel pulled to write in other ways, especially about social justice. I am considering starting a second blog, to have a more specific outlet for such writing.

However, today, I simply must share with you.
Let me write into the pain, dare to speak it out loud, however inappropriate it may be to put these thoughts in an early childhood blog.

This past week has reminded me of the days that followed September 11, 2001.
Except this time,
the pain is internal, self-inflicted, our nation at war with itself.
My fellow citizens are the source of the horror.

Angry America showed up at the polls.

As I experienced in 2001,
my classroom is my refuge,
where I can shut out the news,
quiet the radio,
avoid adult conversations,
ignore the outside world, and
immerse myself in loving my babies.

How happy and loved and safe I feel within my classroom walls, with children keeping me very much in their "present" ...let's build blocks, let's play with clay, let's sing songs together, let's tell stories, let's chase one another around the playground, let's be together. I have the greatest job in the world.

I teach children
to listen to one another,
to watch another's face for emotion,
to say kind things,
to speak their truth,
to care about others,
to respect our individual uniqueness,
to try their very best,
to take actions that are good for all,
to live with love.

Our newly-elected President is the antithesis of this.
He has demonstrated an appalling lack of pretty much any value I hold dear.
One week later, the sick continues to sink in: his first appointment is a white supremacist.

When I am not at school,
I am aware that I am deeply sad.

When I am not at school,
I will not be silent.

When I am not at school,
I am going to keep writing into the pain.

Tuesday SOL Summer of healing

This is a Tuesday Slice of Life for Two Writing Teachers. 

Check out their website for many more reflections on teaching.

Summer is delightfully underway and
I am immersing myself in many daily pleasures -
reading and writing,
gardening (weeding!),
painting outdoor furniture,
walking and bicycling,
cooking and eating well.
This year, my summer is an amazing eight weeks long, and
I am trying to savor each day.
I know how extraordinarily lucky I am to have this much time for rest and reflection, and
it is much needed.

In the midst of my son's health challenges this spring,
I signed up for a workshop to jumpstart a summer of healing -

Basic Mind Body Skills for Alleviating Anxiety and Trauma with Robin Carnes.

As is true with all that I do, see, read, experience,

I thought so much about my preschoolers during this workshop!

It seems to me that 

I have more students showing signs of anxiety than

I used to have.

I don't have any empirical data to support this,

just a gut feeling.

I wonder,

are families more stressed?

are parents more preoccupied?

are children's lives more structured, with higher expectations for performance? 

I don't know.

But, 

I see children who
worry a lot
continuously scan the room for changes
seem unsettled
avoid interacting with others
have nervous tics
cry a lot
tense up unexpectedly and frequently
seem uncomfortable in their own skin

and it is my job as classroom teacher to help them
feel safe, loved, welcomed,
to help them feel a strong sense of belonging.

I came away from this workshop with ideas
not just for myself and my family
but ideas to enhance my teaching -

lots of physical movements to weave into my daily routines,
helping to ground and orient children's bodies;
new breathing exercises, to help us calm and focus; and
importantly
new understanding and acceptance of anxiety.

Perhaps the most powerful "take away" was Ms. Carnes' repeated reminder to
work with ourselves and others
gently and compassionately...
experience what is,
be with ourselves,
in the moment,
just as we are,
gently and compassionately.

Ms. Carnes suggested that we lose one admonishment of ourselves, of others -
lose the command
"Relax!"
When we try to fix,
stop,
halt
anxiety,
the body resists.

Instead,
work gently and compassionately,
experience what is -
that is how things begin to shift.

Happy summer, one and all!