Pivotal points

I know it can feel as if some moments are monumental. Waiting to hear if I got the job I went for, it's easy to start to believe that everything hangs on the outcome. It's similar with test results (of the health or education kind). That life is about to shift one way or the other.
My experience however, tells me that we dont usually know the pivotal points are coming, and sometimes we're not even aware of their existence despite their ongoing impact. The phone call out of the blue that changes everything. Or meeting a best friend who will enhance your life, yet they don't appear wearing a badge that announces they are going to be your best buddy, that only becomes apparent over time.
I think today will be a good day to practice lots of self care :-)

double time

My girly has finally finished her exams and it's such a joy to get her back. For the last few weeks she has been listening to videos played at double speed, such has been her urgency to absorb information (she said they spoke to slowly at real speed and when she showed me I understand what she meant). Now there's a real sense of release and she has lots of time stretching ahead of her.
I was very pleased that before the inevitable post exam crash hit, she applied her brilliant mind to some of the things that were concerning me. We have rejigged some curtains, moved around some other little items and suddenly my home is ok again. There's still a lot to chuck out/repaint/clean but I can really feel the progress now :)

Stairway of heaven

I can't sleep with the excitement (this was what happened when I first had the idea too). My stair carpet was getting threadbare, the landing frayed, and even though I really really liked the colour it was time to replace it. I think it's perhaps the only thing that remained of the house as we bought it 18 years ago. I'm still not convinced by the new colour on the landing, but they didn't have an orange and in the end I have had to let go of the hope that it would be like it was. That's not how life works. Maybe it will grow on me. It certainly feels soft so that's good.
What has delighted me tho, is the stairs, which have turned out just as I envisaged. On one of my many trips back and forth to the carpet shop, carrying different samples for approval from everyone, I was shown the only orange carpet in the shop. And was told I couldn't have it as the manufacturer had gone out of business. I enquired what would happen to the many beautiful sample squares and was told they'd be thrown out.  I went home and plotted, returning the next day with a request to take some of them.

I then had a chat with the carpet fitter who agreed to turn my idea into reality as long as I removed the backing sticker that would hinder the bending. That actually took hours and hours of my time. But look at the end result! I'm so pleased :)

Suspense

This week I feel I have a deeper understanding of the concept of suspense. I don't find out til next Monday whether I got the job I was interviewed for.  Time feels a bit weird, do I carry on with the assumption that I have no employment lined up, do I keep operating with faith that at some point (soon or far) I will have paid work again? It is like I have to suspend belief in knowing what is coming next. Which as none of us do, should be how I feel all the time. Except this is odd.
It has been butter meltingly warm so I'm trying to enjoy time outside and getting as many tasks done as possible. Keeping alive the plants I'm supposed to be keeping alive, removing those that are not supposed to be there, and then helping the tomato plants focus their energies by removing some of their leaves. I've never successfully grown tomatoes before, I'm not good at pruning, we'll see what happens.
Pruning the clutter is also slow progress. I know these days are not endless yet still the house hasn't yet had the whole transformation I envisaged. I guess these things take time.

Whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly

Singing in a theatre with Gareth Malone and the Swingles was fun :-) The last song we did together was "keep holding on" and he suggested that people in the audience who had a torch on their mobile turn it on and wave it from side to side. To see that from up on the stage really was something.
We've rehearsed intensively, the songs are still going round my head, including the line "whatever's meant to be will work out perfectly". I feel pretty laid back about tomorrow's interview, the maybe that's the effect of tonight's gong bath?

Thrifty ways

It's now two months since I officially finished my main jobs (tho there was still some finishing off after that). I am just beginning to feel myself winding down. I even read a a book for 20 mins today. Hopefully this means that when I resume work (and I have since started a new very part time one, but I mean a mortgage paying job) I shall be refreshed and ready for the new start, rather than the worn out heap I was a few weeks back.
There's an interview on Friday that I'm excited about. If I am successful it would mean big changes. But change is doable :-) In the meantime I feel I've honed my thrifty ways. I have developed a range of really cheap puddings (tho 14p packet custard probably isn't massively nutritious). The rice pudding I enjoyed at the start of the year has kick started a revival of quick (oven top not in an oven) rice puds of all flavours and can be made with cheap rice rather than anything posh :-) And my soup options have extended too, onion soup is now my new favourite and again a lovely frugal choice.
Time for daily shopping means I can plan meals around whatever is reduced. 10p ciabatta? Yes please!
Staying in the moment isn't always easy, there's a pull to worry about the future. But when I get to be fully in the now it's rather lovely :-)

A teacher's love plan :)

Pip Wilson drew my attention to this - I think it's great!

What Happened When I Committed to Loving My Students Unconditionally

Many teachers talk about loving their students. In fact, I have made bold announcements to everyone—from my colleagues to my friends and family—about loving my students every year that I have taught. But did I really love them? All of them? Every single student? Not really.

This school year, I tried another kind of love. I wanted my love for my students to be super-resilient and a little bit blind—similar to the kind of love I give to my own children. I wanted a love that could embrace unappealing characteristics and behaviors with humor, tranquility, and curiosity. It would not be transactional or affected by my students’ daily or cumulative decisions. It would accept that they would all disappoint me at various times, some more than others. My disappointment would simply inform my work, not soil it.

The idea came out of new learning about trauma-informed teaching—a method that can help teachers bring more empathy and understanding to students affected by trauma and adverse childhood experiences. My husband, a film director, had recently completed two documentaries that covered the subject: "Resilience" and "Paper Tigers." Trauma-informed teaching is a challenging shift, but it seemed worthy of trying with my own students, regardless of whether they had known trauma in their histories or not.

Students Ask for Love in 'Unloving Ways'

It is often said that the students who need love the most ask for it in the most unloving ways. Every teacher is familiar with that dynamic. I don’t think I am alone in admitting that giving love when students are being openly uncooperative has always been hard for me. 

In the past, my love for students was a diffuse kind of love—the kind one feels for teaching in general or the class as a whole. I was committed to being fair and forgiving, but that is not necessarily the same thing as unconditional love. While my most defiant, disruptive, or unproductive students received the lion's share of my energy and thought, I was focused on managing them rather than loving them. 

"My difficult students represented puzzles to solve and relationships to improve, not dreaded obstacles that threatened to drain my teacher joy."

Using compassionate curiosity to identify learning and attention issues in students, on the other hand, has always come easily to me. I am a big believer in trying to determine what is behind a student’s struggle to meet academic expectations, pay attention in class, or produce assigned work. 

This new "love plan" held onto that process, with the added aim of embracing the kids with personalities and behaviors that had the capacity to trigger my "I wish he or she was not in my class" response. This year, I decided to go toward the most difficult students with additional compassion, rather than retreating in frustration when my initial attempts to change them failed.

A 'Love Plan' for Teaching

The only person I told about my love plan was my husband. I told him because I thought it would be a good idea to have someone hold me accountable for this shift and let me know if I were getting off track. After all, he is the one who hears when I start to lose enthusiasm for any of my students. Would loving each one of my students unconditionally make a difference? Would it change their experience? Would it noticeably improve their learning?

The changes in my teaching were subtle yet concrete. I had always taken students aside when they made poor decisions. But my new plan asked questions that were less canned, free of scolding or shame, and more gentle and genuine. Are you feeling all right? Is something bothering you? What was last night like? Did you get enough sleep? Do you want to talk?These questions rarely led to any big "ah ha" moments, but I treated each repeated conversation with patience. 

Additionally, I paused before I defaulted to my typical consequences for poor behavior. When it was necessary to dole out consequences to students, I made very clear that I still believed in them. I even told students when I took them aside that I loved them—something I had never done before. 

It was immediately apparent that they had never heard those words from a teacher.

When I asked them to repeat back to me what they had heard in our conversation, they would always say, "You care about me." They didn’t use the word love, but that was OK. They heard me, and it showed. 

As the year went on, my conversations with students about their bad choices became increasingly relaxed and honest—and less frequent. Sometimes, students would even preemptively tell me about their bad decisions. Our relationship became more of a partnership and less of a power struggle.

A Win-Win Situation for Students and Teachers

Although my love plan was designed to improve my students' school experience, it radically improved mine as well. It worked magic on my relationships with students and energized me for the school day. My difficult students represented puzzles to solve and relationships to improve, not dreaded obstacles that threatened to drain my teacher joy. By letting go of the assumption that their behaviors were conscious choices, I was able to avoid feelings of resentment when my students blew it. Overall, I felt more peaceful and less angry. 

Loving my students also got easier as the year progressed. I had initially worried that my approach wasn't sustainable. But the opposite was true. Love begot love.

Even as I write this, I wonder if this school year was a special class. I worry that the love plan won’t translate to a new set of students. I also worry that the word "love" will be a turnoff for other teachers (because in San Francisco, where I’m from, the word probably rolls of the tongue a little easier than in other parts of the country). 

Whatever you choose to call it, this loving mindset has transformative potential. Relinquishing our teacher obsession with control and embracing our disruptors has a powerful effect on students' experiences as well as our own. Less than one year into this new teaching approach, I am hardly an expert, but I am an evangelist. 

I share my story to show what the power of unconditional love can do in the classroom. 

Kyle Redford is a 5th grade teacher at Marin Country Day School, a K-8 school in the San Francisco Bay Area. 
She is also the education editor for the Yale Center for Dyslexia and Creativity.