As the new year is once again upon me, I thought I would think about what I have learned the past year. I am sure there is plenty to write about, but what comes to me tonight is my settling into the new job. Though occupation doesn't define us, it does certainly color our lives. For me, teaching has been a calling, and growing into this job has been a real gift.
I try to see the glass as half-full in most areas of my life. Sometimes, I suppose, folks perceive that as naive. I prefer to try to think things through before voicing the negative. Always the best choice when you are without, well, a lot of proof. You know, the whole assumption of innocence thing! For some reason, I really thought that the university glass tower was a place where ideas come to germinate. I have changed my mind and have decided that higher education is really not much different from other walks of life, in that ideas aren't guaranteed fertile soil. It isn't with sadness that I say that - it is simply a more realistic perspective gained over the past 18 months.
The ivory tower, I had always assumed, was such because it was disconnected from the practical, a place where ideas lived as a jungle of overgrowth, heavy with amazing vegetation. The tower for me represented my need to see the world in new ways, to find new paths to share with others, and to have time to think. I still think that is true to some extent. What I have discovered is that there are many wonderful, fertile lands inside the ivory tower...but there are also a few lands which have been exhausted. Now I know I am mixing metaphors, but stay with me! When a crop has been planted too many years in a row, over and over in the same piece of land, the land is stripped of its nutrients. As a result, future crops wither. A field has to have rotated crops, and fallow (rest) to remain fertile. Crop rotation is as ancient as farming is I suppose. So if we think about people and their ideas as crops, then I suppose we need fresh ideas or at least different ones introduced to keep our minds fertile. Staying inside the ivory tower - or anywhere for that matter - without refreshing our perspectives means that our minds begin to atrophy. We become the very thing I believed the ivory tower could resist! Our minds close, we become oblivious to new ideas, and we atrophy to the convention of the ivory tower, or whatever context we are in at the time.
My conclusion is that curiosity about the world is not a simple matter of the individual nor a simple matter of context. It is some combination of both. It is the individual who keeps his mind fertile for new ideas to germinate and something more. The new ideas need fresh air, warm sunshine, cool nights, and plenty of water to really take root and grow. That would be the context. So matching the individual with ideas, to the context, may also be important. For each idea, just like different plant species, that could mean different amounts of air, light, dark, and water, different growing times...and so on. So it is possible that some ideas might take root in some places and not others. And some people may be better suited for certain terrains than others.
So it is possible that ideas aren't more likely to flourish in the ivory tower, even if some are more conducive to their growth. It is the individuals who really make these things happen. I feel so fortunate that I have found a context that is providing what I need personally to thrive and grow. It has been one of the most pleasant places I have ever worked, and I feel very much like I can grow into the job. My discovery is also important, as I hope to remember that I am responsible for rotating the crops - for guarding against stripped soil, and making sure I continue to stretch beyond my comfort zone. As we begin 2013, I look forward to the challenges and the joys of tending to the germinating ideas around me. Happy New Year!
Monday, December 31, 2012
The Power of Aesthetic Education
I remember talking to one of my professors about what I thought the power of aesthetic education and he told me to continue to expand on one particular kernel of my thoughts. Today, as we finish a year another year, I thought I might do just that.
First of all, American education
Bennett Reimer tells us musical experiences in education "are necessary for all people if their essential humanness is to be realized" (p. 29).
David Elliott summarized by James Daughtery "Music is a domain of human activity accessible, achievable and applicable to all. Moreover, the primary values of music as an end in itself, i.e., self-growth, self knowledge, and enjoyment, coincide with and overlap values beneficial to individuals and societies. Teaching music is a means of enculturation."
"Music is strongly associated with the brain's reward system. It's the part of the brain that tells us if things are valuable, or important or relevant to survival, said Robert Zatorre, professor of neurology and neurosurgery at Montreal Neurological Institute." http://www.cnn.com/2012/05/26/health/mental-health/music-brain-science/index.html
"Some people have theorized that that was the original function of this behavior in evolution: It was a way of bonding people emotionally together in groups, through shared movement and shared experience," Patel said.
As the interview comes to an end, Dr. Schlaug briefly touches on the importance of music education in the development of a child’s brain. He also mentions his work using song as a means of verbal development within children, as well as rehabilitation of the speech/language functions lost in stroke victims. http://musicbrainerblogger.blogspot.com/2012/09/making-music-changes-brains.html; Schlaug, G. (2010) Making Music Changes Brains, Gottfried Schlaug: Music and the Brain. [podcast] April 29, 2010. Link: http://www.loc.gov/podcasts/musicandthebrain/podcast_schlaug.html
Forward from An Aesthetic Education in the Era of Globalization: Forward: Aesthetic Education for the Ethical Impulse, editors comments (Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak)
"In a world where there are so many forces conspiring to shatter any person’s sense of having a self, the deconstruction that Spivak once championed is problem, not solution. The solution lies right where great theorists who dominated the field twenty years ago denied it lay, in teaching literature as a means of causing people to realize that they have souls.
First of all, American education
Bennett Reimer tells us musical experiences in education "are necessary for all people if their essential humanness is to be realized" (p. 29).
David Elliott summarized by James Daughtery "Music is a domain of human activity accessible, achievable and applicable to all. Moreover, the primary values of music as an end in itself, i.e., self-growth, self knowledge, and enjoyment, coincide with and overlap values beneficial to individuals and societies. Teaching music is a means of enculturation."
"Music is strongly associated with the brain's reward system. It's the part of the brain that tells us if things are valuable, or important or relevant to survival, said Robert Zatorre, professor of neurology and neurosurgery at Montreal Neurological Institute." http://www.cnn.com/2012/05/26/health/mental-health/music-brain-science/index.html
"Some people have theorized that that was the original function of this behavior in evolution: It was a way of bonding people emotionally together in groups, through shared movement and shared experience," Patel said.
As the interview comes to an end, Dr. Schlaug briefly touches on the importance of music education in the development of a child’s brain. He also mentions his work using song as a means of verbal development within children, as well as rehabilitation of the speech/language functions lost in stroke victims. http://musicbrainerblogger.blogspot.com/2012/09/making-music-changes-brains.html; Schlaug, G. (2010) Making Music Changes Brains, Gottfried Schlaug: Music and the Brain. [podcast] April 29, 2010. Link: http://www.loc.gov/podcasts/musicandthebrain/podcast_schlaug.html
Forward from An Aesthetic Education in the Era of Globalization: Forward: Aesthetic Education for the Ethical Impulse, editors comments (Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak)
"In a world where there are so many forces conspiring to shatter any person’s sense of having a self, the deconstruction that Spivak once championed is problem, not solution. The solution lies right where great theorists who dominated the field twenty years ago denied it lay, in teaching literature as a means of causing people to realize that they have souls.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
More becoming...from a past self.
I was cleaning out old files, actually looking for a paper I wrote, and I found this little gem I wrote in 2-1/2 years ago. Not sure why it was on a word doc rather than here, or maybe it was too personal or painful at the time. But I thought of all my friends who are moving through this space now, and decided it was time to share my thoughts on the...duh-duh-duhn...Comprehensive Exams! So here it is, unedited...
May, 2010
The past semester
has felt as if it extended two years, but not necessarily because it was
painful. I think it was because I was
sifting back through the journey of the past three years and working at pulling together
as I could from what I have learned since arriving in Greensboro in August,
almost three years ago. It has been that
process of returning to information, revisiting new ideas, constructing and
reconstructing how I know what I know and synthesizing it that has made the
time stretch in a different way!
I understood that
my teaching would have an impact on my learning. What I didn’t understand when I came was the
impact that what I would learn would have on my teaching. I have a better understanding of who I was as
a music teacher and what I did or didn’t do in the time I spent in public
schools. I also understand that who I am
right now, at this moment, is continuing to morph and adapt to new roles as I
begin to understand them. The process of
preparing for the comprehensive written exams and the oral defense of those
exams contributed to that.
Having the
opportunity to blend all of the practical aspects of teaching with the
theoretical, speaking through the coursework I have taken, was an amazing
journey of, dare I say, epic proportions.
It is sincerely the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I know there were many moments, well, perhaps
days, where I lost my sense of direction.
It was like herding cats in my head!
There were times when I depended on others to tell me I would be okay,
and just repeated those words in my head over and over. The worst possible outcome was not failing, I
decided, but being too afraid to risk it all by trying. I remember the moment I finally convinced
myself of those things. I felt as if I
was ready to step off that precipice and trust that I had attached myself to a
glider that actually would glide!
I don’t know that
anyone can properly prepare someone else for the process of such a herculean
academic task. I suppose, in looking
back, I realized I was shooting for that moment all along, as I did keep
copious notes and flashcards for the classes that I knew would be part of the
foundation of knowledge. Beyond that, I
think I prepared by listening to what others did or didn’t do and simply devoting
time each and every day in some manner or another. I kept track of the time I spent preparing
and I averaged about 18 hours a week for about 12 weeks leading up to the three
day exam. I did a little bit every day,
chipping away at things that seemed too big to handle or researching just one
more article or reading just one more chapter in a book or simply taking
notes. The result is a very rich
three-inch binder and two accordion files of information that I have now to dig
into whenever I need it!
Perhaps moving
closer to the goal has solidified for me that I made an incredibly brilliant
choice by following my gut instinct in coming to UNCG. Without the support of the doctoral committee
I have, without the opportunities provided to me along the way, there is no way
I would have been able to do this. As a
teacher, stepping into the role of student again, I realize anew the power that
a teacher holds to create or deny success in their students. It is a two-way street, of course, but there
is also truth to who holds the power.
The difference I have seen is that the teacher power here is not viewed
as a weapon, but as a tool to facilitate change. The faculty care deeply about facilitating
change in the students without being too attached to "success" that they are
not willing to allow the student to fail if necessary!
I also feel like
part of a team here. I knew what my job
was, and I continue to grow into the jobs I am given. I have been carefully
trained, groomed perhaps, and offered the opportunities to experience the
things I needed to grow. It amazes me to
this day that I have had the vast opportunities to experience so much. It is humbling to know so many have shared so
much in order for me to pursue this degree.
I know I have one
last mountain to climb. I realize that
this is actually the largest, hardest task of all. Yet, somehow, a great calm possesses me right
now. I saw the written and comprehensive
exams as a gauntlet and I made it through unscathed. That has given me a great confidence boost
that I may need in tough days ahead!
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Sitting with Sadness
When I started on my journey five years ago, it was with great excitement and anxiety. I found many turns along the way that seemed to help me understand who I am, love the people in my life a little bit more, and find the good in many awful situations. The one we find ourselves in as a family today is not one of those.
I have struggled in the last few hours to center myself. The death of a family member is hard, and when families are fractured by mental illness and estrangement over a period of time, the pain cuts through the layers of resentment and problems over the years, making all wounds fresh. Nobody is to blame in any of this. I return to my belief that we make our own way through life with free will. We chose our path through the minute decisions we make daily. When a person chooses to end his or her life, I can only find intense sadness and a sense of loss of human potential. Not blame, though I do believe it is a decision made in a moment of incomprehensible pain and suffering. Unfortunately, when that decision is made, there is a large ripple effect in the world. It would be one thing if a suicide ended in one life. It doesn't - it affects many, many lives, changing them forever. The selfishness of such an act impacts others at the pace of a level 5 hurricane. The emotional toll and destruction left behind is often hard to estimate, and of course, the person responsible doesn't have to live with the repercussions of such an act. Perhaps I sound a bit angry. I am not sure what I am.
There is no silver lining, no lesson to be learned. Nothing but heavy sadness sits on me as I write this. An occasional streak of anger tells me my own will to live fights through the weight of the moment. It may even be a bit of rage flamed by the edge of exhaustion, and yet, I know we will get through this. It is, as my husband stated, a very sad thing that we (he and I) will step over this mess and go on with our lives. How the family will mend is another question altogether.
The fact of the matter is, the adults will be fine. The next generation is the one who will suffer. Perhaps these are the ones who have or will suffer the sins of their relatives. In particular, his children are the ones who have suffered into their early adulthood. Nothing we have done or can do in the future will ever change what they have endured over the past fifteen years. Healing, moving on, may or may not be possible, as the extended family must face the old fears and pain from the past, all stripped raw again. It is a Greek tragedy at its finest - only this is the life we are living. ///
I keep thinking "How did we get here? To today? To this point of no return?" But there are no answers. We went back and rehashed and replayed moments, critical points of disagreement, and still, we missed the signs. We missed something, somewhere along the way that might have changed the final act. And though we missed it, I also know it doesn't matter and probably never did. We did the best we could in the moments we were given. We dealt with so much more, tried so hard to change the course of his life, and yet, he rebounded to his illness like a sturdy rubber band. It was a shell game we were never going to win.
If anything, I suppose we need to find ways to become advocates of helping those who are mentally ill. Families are ill-equipped to meet the needs of adults with mental health issues, and are particularly handicapped in getting them the help they need. It is more intense when the person won't accept help. At that point, there is nothing to be done by family members. Forced treatment is not an option. Saddest part of all of this? We were told nothing could be done until he was a danger to himself or others. We didn't have the necessary evidence for that. We sure do now - and it is too late.
The pain I feel is for the others in this clan and it is almost crushing in its enormity. Even though healing is what the extended family needs, I don't know how or when that will happen. I don't know if it is something that can be planned for. I am not sure what part Mark & I will play in all of this. I just know today fighting the sadness is not possible. I will let sadness sit with me here until I figure out what else I should be doing with it.
I have struggled in the last few hours to center myself. The death of a family member is hard, and when families are fractured by mental illness and estrangement over a period of time, the pain cuts through the layers of resentment and problems over the years, making all wounds fresh. Nobody is to blame in any of this. I return to my belief that we make our own way through life with free will. We chose our path through the minute decisions we make daily. When a person chooses to end his or her life, I can only find intense sadness and a sense of loss of human potential. Not blame, though I do believe it is a decision made in a moment of incomprehensible pain and suffering. Unfortunately, when that decision is made, there is a large ripple effect in the world. It would be one thing if a suicide ended in one life. It doesn't - it affects many, many lives, changing them forever. The selfishness of such an act impacts others at the pace of a level 5 hurricane. The emotional toll and destruction left behind is often hard to estimate, and of course, the person responsible doesn't have to live with the repercussions of such an act. Perhaps I sound a bit angry. I am not sure what I am.
There is no silver lining, no lesson to be learned. Nothing but heavy sadness sits on me as I write this. An occasional streak of anger tells me my own will to live fights through the weight of the moment. It may even be a bit of rage flamed by the edge of exhaustion, and yet, I know we will get through this. It is, as my husband stated, a very sad thing that we (he and I) will step over this mess and go on with our lives. How the family will mend is another question altogether.
The fact of the matter is, the adults will be fine. The next generation is the one who will suffer. Perhaps these are the ones who have or will suffer the sins of their relatives. In particular, his children are the ones who have suffered into their early adulthood. Nothing we have done or can do in the future will ever change what they have endured over the past fifteen years. Healing, moving on, may or may not be possible, as the extended family must face the old fears and pain from the past, all stripped raw again. It is a Greek tragedy at its finest - only this is the life we are living. ///
I keep thinking "How did we get here? To today? To this point of no return?" But there are no answers. We went back and rehashed and replayed moments, critical points of disagreement, and still, we missed the signs. We missed something, somewhere along the way that might have changed the final act. And though we missed it, I also know it doesn't matter and probably never did. We did the best we could in the moments we were given. We dealt with so much more, tried so hard to change the course of his life, and yet, he rebounded to his illness like a sturdy rubber band. It was a shell game we were never going to win.
If anything, I suppose we need to find ways to become advocates of helping those who are mentally ill. Families are ill-equipped to meet the needs of adults with mental health issues, and are particularly handicapped in getting them the help they need. It is more intense when the person won't accept help. At that point, there is nothing to be done by family members. Forced treatment is not an option. Saddest part of all of this? We were told nothing could be done until he was a danger to himself or others. We didn't have the necessary evidence for that. We sure do now - and it is too late.
The pain I feel is for the others in this clan and it is almost crushing in its enormity. Even though healing is what the extended family needs, I don't know how or when that will happen. I don't know if it is something that can be planned for. I am not sure what part Mark & I will play in all of this. I just know today fighting the sadness is not possible. I will let sadness sit with me here until I figure out what else I should be doing with it.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Cuddling the Furries
When I was young I wanted to be a veterinarian. I wanted to care and gather up as many animals as I could to make the world a better place. I attempted 'fixing' birds, got a kitten, and I think we had some turtles, if not a few fish. It was through those experiences that I realized being a veterinarian was a difficult thing - involved blood, guts, and emotional choices I didn't like all that much. I never lost my passion and wonder for all the creatures of the planet - though I do have some specific preferences for the ones I choose to live with! So while I was cuddling my creatures today, I thought about all the lessons of life through our contact with animals.
I read in the paper this week about a pitbull who had to be taken into the pound to be watched for rabies. The owner had not kept the dog contained, and he viciously attacked and mauled two women. I have nothing against the breed of pitbulls, but I have everything to say about the people who kept this dog. This animal was obviously not socialized properly, trained, or cared for in a way that other human beings would be safe around it. The owners failed the dog, and this happens far too often. The lesson here is that we are the product of our socialization - and brutality begets violence. We have to be responsible for our actions, as they have consequences that ripple far beyond the walls of our homes.
Another story on the news was a rescue of a small poodle mix with her five puppies. They were abandoned on the side of the road, and the pups were probably only about 2 weeks old. It astounds me that anyone could take an animal in that condition, and simply decide to let nature take her course. The mother dog was not born in the wild, and yet was suddenly placed in a situation where she could not care for herself, let alone her offspring. The cruelty amazes me, but we turn our backs on human beings the same way. The lesson here is perhaps open your eyes to those among us who need a helping hand. It would do us good to help others in need, furry or not.
We live with three furries - one is a smart border collie mix named Max, a black and white 'tuxedo' cat named Ike, and a tiny 13 year old long-haired 'blue' with hypothyroid disease. Each of them are rescues, and each have a list of needs...long walks, measured food, and medications can sometimes seem to fill a day. Meeting each of their needs may seem crazy, but the lesson is that the world is not about us individually. There are other beings depending on us for their life, their happiness, and their well-being. Giving back to them daily keeps us centered.
And beautifully, these furry creatures give back in so many ways. Max is a true guard dog and though his barking annoys us at times, he is much better than an alarm system. (Although I am not sure I need to know when Romeo the cat wanders through Archie & Jane's yard.) He does lots of tricks, loves children, and smiles at about anyone he meets on the street. He cuddles as much as a 60 pound BIG dog can, and I always appreciate how he nuzzles me daily, just as he did as a puppy, placing his face as close to my neck as he can, and then pushing his 'smart bump' into my chest to get as close as he can. It is like having a big furry bear hug! His lesson is to love with exuberance daily with abandon!
Ike the cat is a character. She fancies herself to be Max's companion (to his distress) and works at winning his affections in a daily routine of rolling around beside him and touching his face with her paws. Though he sometimes plays hard to get, he will eventually give in and nuzzle her. I suppose the lesson here is that if you keep at it long enough, and roll around enough, you can get what you want...
Neither of our cats are fond of people like Max is. As a matter of fact, they will disappear at the sound of a voice outside of the immediate family. Where they go is a mystery, but Guyton will come look around a corner to check things out after an hour or so. Ike doesn't come out until the coast is clear of strangers. The lesson? Be wary of strangers, and take your time to feel comfortable in new situations.
Guyton has special needs, as the thyroid medication is necessary unless we have her go through surgery. She is barely 4 pounds, and has always been small. We coerce her into eating with small bits of butter on her food, or what we refer to as kitty-crack. She also has to put up with Ike's antics - which include jumping on top of her from the dresser, from the stairs, from around a corner, from behind a chair...and when Guyton has had enough she hisses and bats until Ike finally slinks away. Confront your enemies when you have had enough, and be insistent that you are done with the nonsense. A great lesson for all of us.
Best of all? The mornings when the dog is sleeping across (read: on top) of my feet, Guyton is stretched out full length sidled up to my legs, and Ike is curled up on the pillow. I know at these moments I should get up and start the day, but there is so much furry warmth and sweetness next to me, I can't help myself! I just have to snuggle in and cuddle my furry friends...the day can wait 5 more minutes. Yes, that is the best lesson of all!
I read in the paper this week about a pitbull who had to be taken into the pound to be watched for rabies. The owner had not kept the dog contained, and he viciously attacked and mauled two women. I have nothing against the breed of pitbulls, but I have everything to say about the people who kept this dog. This animal was obviously not socialized properly, trained, or cared for in a way that other human beings would be safe around it. The owners failed the dog, and this happens far too often. The lesson here is that we are the product of our socialization - and brutality begets violence. We have to be responsible for our actions, as they have consequences that ripple far beyond the walls of our homes.
Another story on the news was a rescue of a small poodle mix with her five puppies. They were abandoned on the side of the road, and the pups were probably only about 2 weeks old. It astounds me that anyone could take an animal in that condition, and simply decide to let nature take her course. The mother dog was not born in the wild, and yet was suddenly placed in a situation where she could not care for herself, let alone her offspring. The cruelty amazes me, but we turn our backs on human beings the same way. The lesson here is perhaps open your eyes to those among us who need a helping hand. It would do us good to help others in need, furry or not.
We live with three furries - one is a smart border collie mix named Max, a black and white 'tuxedo' cat named Ike, and a tiny 13 year old long-haired 'blue' with hypothyroid disease. Each of them are rescues, and each have a list of needs...long walks, measured food, and medications can sometimes seem to fill a day. Meeting each of their needs may seem crazy, but the lesson is that the world is not about us individually. There are other beings depending on us for their life, their happiness, and their well-being. Giving back to them daily keeps us centered.
And beautifully, these furry creatures give back in so many ways. Max is a true guard dog and though his barking annoys us at times, he is much better than an alarm system. (Although I am not sure I need to know when Romeo the cat wanders through Archie & Jane's yard.) He does lots of tricks, loves children, and smiles at about anyone he meets on the street. He cuddles as much as a 60 pound BIG dog can, and I always appreciate how he nuzzles me daily, just as he did as a puppy, placing his face as close to my neck as he can, and then pushing his 'smart bump' into my chest to get as close as he can. It is like having a big furry bear hug! His lesson is to love with exuberance daily with abandon!
Ike the cat is a character. She fancies herself to be Max's companion (to his distress) and works at winning his affections in a daily routine of rolling around beside him and touching his face with her paws. Though he sometimes plays hard to get, he will eventually give in and nuzzle her. I suppose the lesson here is that if you keep at it long enough, and roll around enough, you can get what you want...
Neither of our cats are fond of people like Max is. As a matter of fact, they will disappear at the sound of a voice outside of the immediate family. Where they go is a mystery, but Guyton will come look around a corner to check things out after an hour or so. Ike doesn't come out until the coast is clear of strangers. The lesson? Be wary of strangers, and take your time to feel comfortable in new situations.
Guyton has special needs, as the thyroid medication is necessary unless we have her go through surgery. She is barely 4 pounds, and has always been small. We coerce her into eating with small bits of butter on her food, or what we refer to as kitty-crack. She also has to put up with Ike's antics - which include jumping on top of her from the dresser, from the stairs, from around a corner, from behind a chair...and when Guyton has had enough she hisses and bats until Ike finally slinks away. Confront your enemies when you have had enough, and be insistent that you are done with the nonsense. A great lesson for all of us.
Best of all? The mornings when the dog is sleeping across (read: on top) of my feet, Guyton is stretched out full length sidled up to my legs, and Ike is curled up on the pillow. I know at these moments I should get up and start the day, but there is so much furry warmth and sweetness next to me, I can't help myself! I just have to snuggle in and cuddle my furry friends...the day can wait 5 more minutes. Yes, that is the best lesson of all!
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Buying the 'Forever' House
Buying a house is probably best for those who are psychological thrill-seekers. The rest of us work hard at being informed consumers, but truth be told, we are probably reacting in a manner deeply ingrained in each of us. It is a difficult process wrought with emotional and cognitive dissonances that are often difficult to weed through. I had forgotten some of that in looking at homes with my husband, but today I was reminded!
First, let me say, we have been looking for over a year. We started with my first trip to Greenville, when I went to see a few homes, and toured neighborhoods. We came back in May (yes over a year ago) but were not comfortable buying a home without selling ours. So we looked and waited, and watched, and looked and waited, and finally rented a beautiful home close to the university when our house didn't sell. By the time we were fortunate enough to sell, the holidays were upon us and we let that time slip on by. As an early spring rolled around, we dipped our proverbial toes back in the water and then just jumped right in! So here we are, nearly sixty houses later, with what we have determined might just be our forever home.
The problem of course, is that no place, no home, is perfect. But when you have been through as many houses in the area as we have, you begin to determine what you really want to have, what you think you can live with, and all those other emotional needs and ideas about money that seep into the cracks of every decision you try to make. The house we chose seemed to also chose us..silly as it sounds. My husband wanted to live in two stories again...check. He wanted a garden space, which this one has in droves. We needed a fenced backyard, and a nice, big, open kitchen where the family can gather. We really loved the four bedrooms we had in our last home, and hoped to find that again. We did. We wanted at least two full baths. A separate laundry room. My husband wanted an enclosed porch for plants and morning coffee, and a garage was something we have missed sorely over the last five years. All checked off!
I have a red plate we called the "special" plate that has the statement "You are special today!" emblazoned across the lip. We used it with our kids as they were growing up, and as we stepped into that kitchen, there was one just like it! Each room we stepped into offered something special that seemed to fit into the way we like to live in our homes. The downside? It is 6 miles out of town and I really wanted to walk. I don't think I will be walking 6 miles to school anytime soon! Now I have to battle the traffic of a morning commute, and I have all 8AM classes next term...hmmm...but when we went back to see the house, I just couldn't imagine it really bothering me. The thought of walking into that house at the end of a long day felt right. So we made the dive!
Sounds like a love story right? Well, my husband and I have totally different ideas of what negotiating and buying a house are. We approach life the same way. I react to things almost on an instinct of what I like, what I want, what I do. I fall hard and fast and stay loyal to my decisions. I err on finding the shiny, the clean, the clear, the glorious in the moment, and he is very cautious, examining every negative thought he can come up with as if he is paid to do so. Example: He actually voiced a concern that IF it would get too cold for too long, the screened porch MIGHT not be enough protection for the delicate olive tree, which would mean he could lose the tree or it MIGHT lose all its leaves. I just looked at him with "Whaaa???" all over my face. I mean, who thinks of that? So I said, "Couldn't you bring it into the garage?" To which he said, "Oh, well, probably that would work." Me: "Isn't that what we did in Indiana? Brought it inside?" Husband: "Yes, but it is much colder there." Me: "I am really confused. SO we are buying the house for Olive Tree comfort?" I was really concerned we were going to have to attend to each and every single plant species before we could agree on the house.
And so it went. Every good thing I found, he found three negatives. And here is the kicker. He does the same thing EVERY time we buy a house! We fought like cats and dogs over our last two purchases - the first, over a house I loved, the second over the one he loved - and yes, I was pushing him because he said he loved it! You can imagine if HE loved it, and I gave in, that when he pulled back, I went a little, well...ballistic might be the word. This morning I was so mad at him, I took the longest, hardest power walk I have had in a while. I think the dog enjoyed it, and it worked off some steam. And the two of us did finally agree to a number to counter the counter-offer.
I suppose our outlook on homes (my mom is a superb homemaker and taught home management - his mom was a terrific homemaker as well) and on money (our parents came from agriculture, grew up with large families and little money having to work hard for what they had). Their homes have always been warm, welcoming, and beautiful places to be. And we feel your home is a reflection of who you are, and we struggled to figure that part out. I mean, am I a brick ranch in the city or am I a two-story colonial in the country? Am I a fixer-upper or a ready-made dream? What we can afford, and what we want to spend also comes into play. I want to push it, he wants to save it. I figure things out to the penny, he wants to pinch every penny! We simply roll as we did as children, teens, young adults, I suppose. So he digs in his heels and refuses to negotiate, while I prod and plead and try to get a bit of movement from our side. I have to admit, the dissonance in our approaches seems to work well for the deal we get. I only push hard when I am SOLD on what we should do and that seems to be the only 'giving' he does. So we end up with a fair deal, and when he is done moaning about the expenditure and bills, I think he will really enjoy it. I know I will! But the process? I would rather not, thank you. This is why it is now to be known as the 'forever' house!
I probably have deeper observations on all of this, but we close and move one month from today - gotta go pack!
First, let me say, we have been looking for over a year. We started with my first trip to Greenville, when I went to see a few homes, and toured neighborhoods. We came back in May (yes over a year ago) but were not comfortable buying a home without selling ours. So we looked and waited, and watched, and looked and waited, and finally rented a beautiful home close to the university when our house didn't sell. By the time we were fortunate enough to sell, the holidays were upon us and we let that time slip on by. As an early spring rolled around, we dipped our proverbial toes back in the water and then just jumped right in! So here we are, nearly sixty houses later, with what we have determined might just be our forever home.
The problem of course, is that no place, no home, is perfect. But when you have been through as many houses in the area as we have, you begin to determine what you really want to have, what you think you can live with, and all those other emotional needs and ideas about money that seep into the cracks of every decision you try to make. The house we chose seemed to also chose us..silly as it sounds. My husband wanted to live in two stories again...check. He wanted a garden space, which this one has in droves. We needed a fenced backyard, and a nice, big, open kitchen where the family can gather. We really loved the four bedrooms we had in our last home, and hoped to find that again. We did. We wanted at least two full baths. A separate laundry room. My husband wanted an enclosed porch for plants and morning coffee, and a garage was something we have missed sorely over the last five years. All checked off!
I have a red plate we called the "special" plate that has the statement "You are special today!" emblazoned across the lip. We used it with our kids as they were growing up, and as we stepped into that kitchen, there was one just like it! Each room we stepped into offered something special that seemed to fit into the way we like to live in our homes. The downside? It is 6 miles out of town and I really wanted to walk. I don't think I will be walking 6 miles to school anytime soon! Now I have to battle the traffic of a morning commute, and I have all 8AM classes next term...hmmm...but when we went back to see the house, I just couldn't imagine it really bothering me. The thought of walking into that house at the end of a long day felt right. So we made the dive!
Sounds like a love story right? Well, my husband and I have totally different ideas of what negotiating and buying a house are. We approach life the same way. I react to things almost on an instinct of what I like, what I want, what I do. I fall hard and fast and stay loyal to my decisions. I err on finding the shiny, the clean, the clear, the glorious in the moment, and he is very cautious, examining every negative thought he can come up with as if he is paid to do so. Example: He actually voiced a concern that IF it would get too cold for too long, the screened porch MIGHT not be enough protection for the delicate olive tree, which would mean he could lose the tree or it MIGHT lose all its leaves. I just looked at him with "Whaaa???" all over my face. I mean, who thinks of that? So I said, "Couldn't you bring it into the garage?" To which he said, "Oh, well, probably that would work." Me: "Isn't that what we did in Indiana? Brought it inside?" Husband: "Yes, but it is much colder there." Me: "I am really confused. SO we are buying the house for Olive Tree comfort?" I was really concerned we were going to have to attend to each and every single plant species before we could agree on the house.
And so it went. Every good thing I found, he found three negatives. And here is the kicker. He does the same thing EVERY time we buy a house! We fought like cats and dogs over our last two purchases - the first, over a house I loved, the second over the one he loved - and yes, I was pushing him because he said he loved it! You can imagine if HE loved it, and I gave in, that when he pulled back, I went a little, well...ballistic might be the word. This morning I was so mad at him, I took the longest, hardest power walk I have had in a while. I think the dog enjoyed it, and it worked off some steam. And the two of us did finally agree to a number to counter the counter-offer.
I suppose our outlook on homes (my mom is a superb homemaker and taught home management - his mom was a terrific homemaker as well) and on money (our parents came from agriculture, grew up with large families and little money having to work hard for what they had). Their homes have always been warm, welcoming, and beautiful places to be. And we feel your home is a reflection of who you are, and we struggled to figure that part out. I mean, am I a brick ranch in the city or am I a two-story colonial in the country? Am I a fixer-upper or a ready-made dream? What we can afford, and what we want to spend also comes into play. I want to push it, he wants to save it. I figure things out to the penny, he wants to pinch every penny! We simply roll as we did as children, teens, young adults, I suppose. So he digs in his heels and refuses to negotiate, while I prod and plead and try to get a bit of movement from our side. I have to admit, the dissonance in our approaches seems to work well for the deal we get. I only push hard when I am SOLD on what we should do and that seems to be the only 'giving' he does. So we end up with a fair deal, and when he is done moaning about the expenditure and bills, I think he will really enjoy it. I know I will! But the process? I would rather not, thank you. This is why it is now to be known as the 'forever' house!
I probably have deeper observations on all of this, but we close and move one month from today - gotta go pack!
Friday, May 11, 2012
Reflections on Being 'In Tune' in the Classroom
I was thinking this morning about the ways in which we are able to reflect and think about our our teaching. My newest teaching job entails guiding student teachers...and I must admit, I take this calling very seriously. And while it is difficult, it is also rewarding. In the past five years, I have had the privilege of guiding more than 25 student teachers, and some easily move into a self-reflective mode of thinking, while others depend on my evaluation, and everywhere in between. In order to be a better teacher-educator, I have to be able to analyze my own perspective. I started to think about how I reflect, the problems I have had learning to do so and judge my own effectiveness, and how I might actively assist my own students in doing the same. And it hit me that this is a habit of mind; perhaps a direct result of curiosity and the need to continue to learn about the world.
Teaching is not a cookie cutter discipline, nor is it easy if you simply 'like' children, adolescents, or adults. It can be much like herding cats, never sure which direction the feline is headed, or whether or not you will meet some sharp claws in the process. (And the hissing too!) But in order to teach, you have to be in-tune with the all the social interactions of the classroom. This is not just the personal interactions with each student, but with the entire classroom of students, the larger context of your teaching load, the department, the school, the central office, the community, and on it goes. Each of those create quite a unique scenario, changing daily, if not hourly. It amazes me that we want to train teachers as if we can go out and give the same commands and the students will respond. But I digress. So how do we KNOW our teaching is effective? How do we know it is working? How we reflect to address these questions is dependent on what I think are five tuning points.
First, we have to be in tune with who we are and the soul of why we teach (pedagogically, academically, theoretically grounded). It is a constant calibration for each of us. Like tuning in radio stations on a cross country trip, there are times when the channel is clear and steady, and then suddenly we lose it, and have to re-tune or change the station in order to continue. I believe that is not unlike how we determine who we are and how and why we teach. The deepest level of knowing who we are vital to the second point.
Second, we must be in tune with our students. It is a development of what I think is being called 'emotional intelligence' or perhaps in the past ten years more likely to be referenced as interpersonal relationship development. In order to begin to address our own effectiveness, we must be openly observing how our students respond, react, receive, and recycle the lessons we present. Teaching and learning never exists in a vacuum, and there have been times I am sure I learned much more than my students did. What they can share with us is priceless, and they come to us with a variety of experiences and assumptions about who we are as well. One way to begin to become in tune with our students is to listen twice and talk once!
Third, we have to ask questions about teaching and learning daily. We tune our attention to as many different techniques we can to assess our own effectiveness as teachers. Being in tune with ourselves and with our students is only one dimension of the process. Being in tune with the broader profession is important as well. How do all teachers determine what is appropriate and significant positive change in our students? How many perspectives might we take to examine our own teaching? I used to think that criticism from outside my field of music was unnecessary and an impediment to my personal teaching growth. If they are not musicians, what could they possibly know about what I do? I was terribly wrong! How powerful are voices when they can articulate what they see from the outside for us? It is possible they do not see the detail we do, but hearing what they DO see is powerful for our own growth with our students. After all, our students don't come in knowing what we know - but what we share might be most clear to those who do not know us. Don't discount the voices of our administrators and peers without first taking them into careful consideration.
Fourth, we have to find at least three ways to determine whether what we are doing is working. That means that funny word assessment needs to be applied. Not only do we have to use it, we have to fine tune our assessments to pick up on the details we are helping students construct, from examining portfolios to testing them on vocabulary or performance skills. We assess to determine how well our students can do something or what it is they know. We evaluate when we attach value or worth to something. Our evaluations are often a part of the assessment tool we use, so we have to develop and utilize multiple ways to examine what our students know and can do when we finish teaching. This has often surprised me as well, in that what I had thought I was teaching was not the central message my students took from the lesson or unit. Which begs to question whether the assessment tool was not aligned to the lesson/unit or whether my objectives were not aligned with my strategies in the classroom.
Fifth and finally, we have to reflect to be able to use what we have collected to navigate the next encounter with our students. We have to tune in to our daily rhythms and learn to read our context cues carefully. For some of us, the reflections may be written and for others, it could be an aural recording. It might take the form of a diary for some, a checklist for others, or a series of post-its attached to lesson plans. But that isn't really enough - reflection has to move into reflexivity. To be reflective is to examine the ways in which you practice the art of teaching. The goal of being reflective is to change or improve your own teaching. Reflexive response is bi-directional and can be thought of as a cause and effect, or a more circular response, with you and your views of teaching at the center.
For example, after watching myself teach during a rehearsal, I knew I needed to be more on target with my comments and have my students play more than I talked. So I used a 3 x 5 note card to help change some habits that I thought would make me a more effective and efficient teacher in this regard. I still use that technique when I am working on altering a habit I may have developed that I do not care for. The reflexivity - the small change for the benefit of all - was a result of reflecting on the tuning points I addressed above. There is much more to be discussed between reflexive and reflective thinking, but I will leave it simply stated for now. It caps off the point I am making in that the art of teaching is forever changing based on the context of the moment and the human beings involved. What could be more reflexive than that?
And my student teachers will grow and learn. I must find a way to affect their habit of mind first, and encourage the growth and development of these skills. The greatest compliment I have ever received came from a graduate student who told me he saw my philosophy of teaching in practice. I was honored and humbled by his remark...which has caused me to continue to reflect and respond to the needs of my students!
Didn't Ghandi say it best? "Be the change you wish to see in the world."
Teaching is not a cookie cutter discipline, nor is it easy if you simply 'like' children, adolescents, or adults. It can be much like herding cats, never sure which direction the feline is headed, or whether or not you will meet some sharp claws in the process. (And the hissing too!) But in order to teach, you have to be in-tune with the all the social interactions of the classroom. This is not just the personal interactions with each student, but with the entire classroom of students, the larger context of your teaching load, the department, the school, the central office, the community, and on it goes. Each of those create quite a unique scenario, changing daily, if not hourly. It amazes me that we want to train teachers as if we can go out and give the same commands and the students will respond. But I digress. So how do we KNOW our teaching is effective? How do we know it is working? How we reflect to address these questions is dependent on what I think are five tuning points.
First, we have to be in tune with who we are and the soul of why we teach (pedagogically, academically, theoretically grounded). It is a constant calibration for each of us. Like tuning in radio stations on a cross country trip, there are times when the channel is clear and steady, and then suddenly we lose it, and have to re-tune or change the station in order to continue. I believe that is not unlike how we determine who we are and how and why we teach. The deepest level of knowing who we are vital to the second point.
Second, we must be in tune with our students. It is a development of what I think is being called 'emotional intelligence' or perhaps in the past ten years more likely to be referenced as interpersonal relationship development. In order to begin to address our own effectiveness, we must be openly observing how our students respond, react, receive, and recycle the lessons we present. Teaching and learning never exists in a vacuum, and there have been times I am sure I learned much more than my students did. What they can share with us is priceless, and they come to us with a variety of experiences and assumptions about who we are as well. One way to begin to become in tune with our students is to listen twice and talk once!
Third, we have to ask questions about teaching and learning daily. We tune our attention to as many different techniques we can to assess our own effectiveness as teachers. Being in tune with ourselves and with our students is only one dimension of the process. Being in tune with the broader profession is important as well. How do all teachers determine what is appropriate and significant positive change in our students? How many perspectives might we take to examine our own teaching? I used to think that criticism from outside my field of music was unnecessary and an impediment to my personal teaching growth. If they are not musicians, what could they possibly know about what I do? I was terribly wrong! How powerful are voices when they can articulate what they see from the outside for us? It is possible they do not see the detail we do, but hearing what they DO see is powerful for our own growth with our students. After all, our students don't come in knowing what we know - but what we share might be most clear to those who do not know us. Don't discount the voices of our administrators and peers without first taking them into careful consideration.
Fourth, we have to find at least three ways to determine whether what we are doing is working. That means that funny word assessment needs to be applied. Not only do we have to use it, we have to fine tune our assessments to pick up on the details we are helping students construct, from examining portfolios to testing them on vocabulary or performance skills. We assess to determine how well our students can do something or what it is they know. We evaluate when we attach value or worth to something. Our evaluations are often a part of the assessment tool we use, so we have to develop and utilize multiple ways to examine what our students know and can do when we finish teaching. This has often surprised me as well, in that what I had thought I was teaching was not the central message my students took from the lesson or unit. Which begs to question whether the assessment tool was not aligned to the lesson/unit or whether my objectives were not aligned with my strategies in the classroom.
Fifth and finally, we have to reflect to be able to use what we have collected to navigate the next encounter with our students. We have to tune in to our daily rhythms and learn to read our context cues carefully. For some of us, the reflections may be written and for others, it could be an aural recording. It might take the form of a diary for some, a checklist for others, or a series of post-its attached to lesson plans. But that isn't really enough - reflection has to move into reflexivity. To be reflective is to examine the ways in which you practice the art of teaching. The goal of being reflective is to change or improve your own teaching. Reflexive response is bi-directional and can be thought of as a cause and effect, or a more circular response, with you and your views of teaching at the center.
For example, after watching myself teach during a rehearsal, I knew I needed to be more on target with my comments and have my students play more than I talked. So I used a 3 x 5 note card to help change some habits that I thought would make me a more effective and efficient teacher in this regard. I still use that technique when I am working on altering a habit I may have developed that I do not care for. The reflexivity - the small change for the benefit of all - was a result of reflecting on the tuning points I addressed above. There is much more to be discussed between reflexive and reflective thinking, but I will leave it simply stated for now. It caps off the point I am making in that the art of teaching is forever changing based on the context of the moment and the human beings involved. What could be more reflexive than that?
And my student teachers will grow and learn. I must find a way to affect their habit of mind first, and encourage the growth and development of these skills. The greatest compliment I have ever received came from a graduate student who told me he saw my philosophy of teaching in practice. I was honored and humbled by his remark...which has caused me to continue to reflect and respond to the needs of my students!
Didn't Ghandi say it best? "Be the change you wish to see in the world."
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Living in the moment
There is an upside to of a certain age. At least, this is what I have discovered over the past six years. I do remember that I felt this when I was younger. The first time I truly experienced living in the moment was holding my newborns for the first time - stopped time in its tracks! Somehow, though, those moments of enjoying my children for the first time got lost in the process of helping them into adulthood. The next time I experienced it, I was walking to the music building on Northwestern's campus, and stopped to look at the sun dancing on the lake, with a beautiful bed of flowers in front of me...and the Chicago skyline as a backdrop. And I remember just stopping and breathing it all in. I suddenly remembered I knew this feeling - but this time, I made a promise to myself to keep it.
Since that moment, I have found that I am much better able to exist within the moment, time, day, than when I was younger. For example, padding around the house this morning in the 4AM hour, I quite enjoyed the quite silence right before sunrise, and was struck by how calm and happy I was to just BE. As I drove to Havelock, NC an hour later, I looked forward to watching the sunrise over the bridge as I crossed over into the innerbanks, at the Neuse River Basin. A younger me might have been in a hurry to get there, do the observation, get home, get work done. The older me relishes these quiet moments of solace, where I am just alone with my thoughts and something beautiful to enjoy.
As a musician, I find myself getting lost in the sounds...able to block out everything else busy in my mind and just enjoy the music. Not worry about the score, or how I am hearing the piece, or what I am hearing or not hearing, and if I am musician enough to make competent decisions...but to simply enjoy the music. What a gift to finally feel free to enjoy what I love most, unconditionally, in spite of my training!
And I think it has allowed me to enjoy my family more. My husband's bad habits (and mind you, he would say the same of me) no longer bother me, and instead I see the wonderful little things he does to show me he cares everyday. I try to make sure I stop and really look at him when we spend time together at the end of the day, and listen as carefully as I can. What did I discover? Living in the moment with my husband makes me feel incredibly lucky I married him.
Then there are those babies. The ones that first stopped time for me so long ago - now all grown-up! What incredible human beings they are. We speak of them as our best work in life. If we did NOTHING more in life than raise them, I know all is well with my soul! I feel I was meant to have these incredible people to raise - and so fortunate to have guided them through childhood. I can't begin to express how I treasure each and every interaction, enjoying who they are, what they have to say, how they think. Folks tell you to enjoy each moment when your kids are young, because it passes so quickly. And it does! But enjoying it was difficult in the cacophony of young adulthood. I believe that is why you get grandchildren...a second chance to live in the moment of a child without the pressures of being a parent!
Maybe that is the answer. Perhaps with age comes acceptance of the human condition, and that allows you to truly feel and express unconditional love. And that in turn, allows us to live more fully in the moment. I know being older isn't perfect, but it certainly is much better than the alternative, right? And though everything is not the sun rising over the edge of the world, it is pretty darn great to be able to recognize and live in that moment.
Since that moment, I have found that I am much better able to exist within the moment, time, day, than when I was younger. For example, padding around the house this morning in the 4AM hour, I quite enjoyed the quite silence right before sunrise, and was struck by how calm and happy I was to just BE. As I drove to Havelock, NC an hour later, I looked forward to watching the sunrise over the bridge as I crossed over into the innerbanks, at the Neuse River Basin. A younger me might have been in a hurry to get there, do the observation, get home, get work done. The older me relishes these quiet moments of solace, where I am just alone with my thoughts and something beautiful to enjoy.
As a musician, I find myself getting lost in the sounds...able to block out everything else busy in my mind and just enjoy the music. Not worry about the score, or how I am hearing the piece, or what I am hearing or not hearing, and if I am musician enough to make competent decisions...but to simply enjoy the music. What a gift to finally feel free to enjoy what I love most, unconditionally, in spite of my training!
And I think it has allowed me to enjoy my family more. My husband's bad habits (and mind you, he would say the same of me) no longer bother me, and instead I see the wonderful little things he does to show me he cares everyday. I try to make sure I stop and really look at him when we spend time together at the end of the day, and listen as carefully as I can. What did I discover? Living in the moment with my husband makes me feel incredibly lucky I married him.
Then there are those babies. The ones that first stopped time for me so long ago - now all grown-up! What incredible human beings they are. We speak of them as our best work in life. If we did NOTHING more in life than raise them, I know all is well with my soul! I feel I was meant to have these incredible people to raise - and so fortunate to have guided them through childhood. I can't begin to express how I treasure each and every interaction, enjoying who they are, what they have to say, how they think. Folks tell you to enjoy each moment when your kids are young, because it passes so quickly. And it does! But enjoying it was difficult in the cacophony of young adulthood. I believe that is why you get grandchildren...a second chance to live in the moment of a child without the pressures of being a parent!
Maybe that is the answer. Perhaps with age comes acceptance of the human condition, and that allows you to truly feel and express unconditional love. And that in turn, allows us to live more fully in the moment. I know being older isn't perfect, but it certainly is much better than the alternative, right? And though everything is not the sun rising over the edge of the world, it is pretty darn great to be able to recognize and live in that moment.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Rhythms, Dissonance, and Seat Belts
What do rhythms, dissonance, and seat belts have in common? I use these to describe what it is like to take on a new activity. Or an extension of an old one. I'm using these to talk about what it feels like to be new someplace. I mean the kind of new when you have been here long enough for folks to know your face or name, but haven't quite been absorbed into the fabric and rhythms of the place, the job, or the community. This isn't a bad thing - it just is what it is. Only nobody ever really talks about what that is like. The excitement or feeling of fulfillment one can have. Or why it can feel a bit empty or lonely.
I have been thinking about this more just because I know my student teachers are having an experience close to this one right now. They are in new schools, and will go to yet another new position in 5 or 10 weeks. They are expected to jump right in, communicate with their on-site educators and their university supervisors, all while completing their electronic portfolios and being responsible to the university as students. And let's not forget, they are performing teaching duties during all of this. If that doesn't cause some bifurcated identity issues, I don't think I know what would! So part of my job, as I see it, is to point out the dissonance in what they are experiencing and help them adjust to whatever the rhythm their brand of dissonance presents. Which means sometimes you will be in-sync with the world around you and other days, well, not so much.
I suddenly realized, after my second conversation on a Saturday with a slightly confused senior music major, that I could honestly relate to their sense of disequilibrium. I float in and out of that space myself quite often to be honest! I am upfront with my colleagues, and tease about my situation quite often. Just Wednesday, one said, "On cue?" and I said, "I HATE being new!" And though there are so many great things about coming to a new place, once the shine becomes a bit familiar, the large amount of information that still needs to be digested by the newcomer becomes indigestion at times!
For example, I was sitting in a meeting this week and three times had to ask what in the heck we were discussing. There were so many acronyms being thrown around, I couldn't quite keep up with the conversation. Once I asked about the acronyms, I missed the important part of the sentence. Only without knowing the acronym, I couldn't possibly understand what that important part was! I figure I only got about half of what was discussed during the meeting. Maybe that is a good thing, but somehow it simply makes me feel a bit more like I am standing in the fringe.
Another example was a training session. I was trying to get some help on the front side of some technology work. But the trainer said, "What questions do you have?" and all I could say was, "I don't know! I won't know until I sit down and don't know WHAT IT IS I don't know!" You know? In other words, sometimes it is only the direct application and experience that can bring you to the knowledge you need to create for yourself.
In academia, much like teaching music in the public schools, you are isolated in your classroom. Unlike public school teaching, it isn't that my time is scheduled for me with passing periods and a specific lunchtime, but that I must schedule my time in a way to get everything done. There is an assumption that coming through a doctoral program and entering the profession as a music teacher educator you know how to do that. I didn't have a real cohort of people I came through a program with, so I am never really sure if I am doing things well or not well enough. I watched my professors, I have asked lots of questions, and I have a sense of what I should do. Or are my standards too high for now? Am I doing what I should be so they will keep me? Am I working too hard or hardly enough? What is 20% of my time? What is 60% of my time? How do I figure out what MY time begins and the JOB time ends? Are my experiences bringing me to any direct application of what I need to be doing? Or am I floundering around looking busy, only the busy-ness doesn't really matter?
At this point in time, it just feels to me that everyone (and I do mean the larger society of music teacher educators, everyone) seems to have a rhythm to going to conferences, teaching, writing, publishing, organizing their days, or the like. The sense is that I don't fit into that rhythm, and I don't know how to find it. Having been through three public school teaching jobs, and then the big change back to school, and this last one into a new job, I realize that is a very normal part of adjusting. I feel out-of-sync because I don't have a clue what in-sync might feel like. Since nobody is harrumphing at me yet, I can only assume it appears I am in-sync with my colleagues and that I will figure all of this out. Figuring it out is a lonely place at times.
Which brings me back to my student teachers.
Not only have they left the only thing they have ever known (being a student), they are immersed in the deep waters of teaching for the first time. They may feel alone because they physically are separated from everyone and everything that is familiar or they may feel stress about living among different people and being away from campus and the professors who are still demanding work from them. I wish I could tell them it gets better or that it will be okay. It is normal. It doesn't get better, I suppose, it is just different. And the transition from university to job to master teacher is an even longer and more arduous task for each of us personally. Each change will bring those feelings back, and cause dissonance that brings further growth and development. The good news is as we construct new knowledge about where we are now, it can inform both past, present and future! Not having these experiences can cause stagnation, as we stop having to construct new ideas, new perspectives - new parts to who we are as people.
The path to constructing who we are is a bumpy ride. I plan to fasten my own seat belt, and do the same for my student teachers, as we grow through the rest of the semester together!
I have been thinking about this more just because I know my student teachers are having an experience close to this one right now. They are in new schools, and will go to yet another new position in 5 or 10 weeks. They are expected to jump right in, communicate with their on-site educators and their university supervisors, all while completing their electronic portfolios and being responsible to the university as students. And let's not forget, they are performing teaching duties during all of this. If that doesn't cause some bifurcated identity issues, I don't think I know what would! So part of my job, as I see it, is to point out the dissonance in what they are experiencing and help them adjust to whatever the rhythm their brand of dissonance presents. Which means sometimes you will be in-sync with the world around you and other days, well, not so much.
I suddenly realized, after my second conversation on a Saturday with a slightly confused senior music major, that I could honestly relate to their sense of disequilibrium. I float in and out of that space myself quite often to be honest! I am upfront with my colleagues, and tease about my situation quite often. Just Wednesday, one said, "On cue?" and I said, "I HATE being new!" And though there are so many great things about coming to a new place, once the shine becomes a bit familiar, the large amount of information that still needs to be digested by the newcomer becomes indigestion at times!
For example, I was sitting in a meeting this week and three times had to ask what in the heck we were discussing. There were so many acronyms being thrown around, I couldn't quite keep up with the conversation. Once I asked about the acronyms, I missed the important part of the sentence. Only without knowing the acronym, I couldn't possibly understand what that important part was! I figure I only got about half of what was discussed during the meeting. Maybe that is a good thing, but somehow it simply makes me feel a bit more like I am standing in the fringe.
Another example was a training session. I was trying to get some help on the front side of some technology work. But the trainer said, "What questions do you have?" and all I could say was, "I don't know! I won't know until I sit down and don't know WHAT IT IS I don't know!" You know? In other words, sometimes it is only the direct application and experience that can bring you to the knowledge you need to create for yourself.
In academia, much like teaching music in the public schools, you are isolated in your classroom. Unlike public school teaching, it isn't that my time is scheduled for me with passing periods and a specific lunchtime, but that I must schedule my time in a way to get everything done. There is an assumption that coming through a doctoral program and entering the profession as a music teacher educator you know how to do that. I didn't have a real cohort of people I came through a program with, so I am never really sure if I am doing things well or not well enough. I watched my professors, I have asked lots of questions, and I have a sense of what I should do. Or are my standards too high for now? Am I doing what I should be so they will keep me? Am I working too hard or hardly enough? What is 20% of my time? What is 60% of my time? How do I figure out what MY time begins and the JOB time ends? Are my experiences bringing me to any direct application of what I need to be doing? Or am I floundering around looking busy, only the busy-ness doesn't really matter?
At this point in time, it just feels to me that everyone (and I do mean the larger society of music teacher educators, everyone) seems to have a rhythm to going to conferences, teaching, writing, publishing, organizing their days, or the like. The sense is that I don't fit into that rhythm, and I don't know how to find it. Having been through three public school teaching jobs, and then the big change back to school, and this last one into a new job, I realize that is a very normal part of adjusting. I feel out-of-sync because I don't have a clue what in-sync might feel like. Since nobody is harrumphing at me yet, I can only assume it appears I am in-sync with my colleagues and that I will figure all of this out. Figuring it out is a lonely place at times.
Which brings me back to my student teachers.
Not only have they left the only thing they have ever known (being a student), they are immersed in the deep waters of teaching for the first time. They may feel alone because they physically are separated from everyone and everything that is familiar or they may feel stress about living among different people and being away from campus and the professors who are still demanding work from them. I wish I could tell them it gets better or that it will be okay. It is normal. It doesn't get better, I suppose, it is just different. And the transition from university to job to master teacher is an even longer and more arduous task for each of us personally. Each change will bring those feelings back, and cause dissonance that brings further growth and development. The good news is as we construct new knowledge about where we are now, it can inform both past, present and future! Not having these experiences can cause stagnation, as we stop having to construct new ideas, new perspectives - new parts to who we are as people.
The path to constructing who we are is a bumpy ride. I plan to fasten my own seat belt, and do the same for my student teachers, as we grow through the rest of the semester together!
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