Wednesday 21 August 2013

From the heart

So, tonight I said good bye to most of my friends here in St. John's...again. For the 14th time I figure. I don't know exactly what number it is, but it's high. And each time I do...it doesn't get easier. It gets a bit harder actually.

You see...here in Newfoundland I've got friends whom I've known for 10-15 years. They've seen me through my best and worst times. There have been quabbles, smiles, awkward weird moments, but there's always been love. The friends who are around you for that long truly know you. There's nothing new to find out, unless it happened yesterday or today. It's an amazing thing.

And when you say good bye to them for a few months (for 2-3 of them, probably a year), it's a little heartbreaking.

Always is.

But I don't leave until tomorrow night. Tomorrow is a family day...mostly. I'll also see one of my most dear friends on the planet, the awesome Dr. Dax Rumsey. I've never written that out before. It looks good on him....but then at 8:30p.m.ish I'll head to the airport to catch my flight:

St. John's to 




London to




Doha



Back to the sandbox.

And it's not that I don't like the sandpit. I do. It's a great place to live/work/be. I've got an amazing school with great friends, administrators, co-workers and kids. But it's still hard to leave the people who you're most comfortable around. That you're most "yourself" with. 

The people whom you could play board games with every night. Have any sort of conversation...and it's all a good laugh.

And so...tonight is more of a heartfelt entry.

And I will still find a way to tie this into my teaching practice...so here it is:

Each year, when we begin anew, our kids are very often in new classes, with different dynamics, different friends. They're taken out of their comfort zones. Much like we, as teachers, are taken out of ours with each class. We have to reestablish new relationships, friendships, classroom security, routines, and learn about each other.

So we have to look for the things we find most comfortable. The things that "know us the best" and keep us grounded. 

Because there's good uncomfortable and bad uncomfortable. And some days we will encounter the bad uncomfortable, so we need to look for our comforts to keep us stable. And sometimes that's a call to the friends and family at home. 



And for our kids, sometimes, it's a conversation with a child in another class they're most comfortable with. Or a call home to mom to get some grounding. Something to provide stability in an otherwise changing place. A place that needs to be feel grounded.

So, I think we need to account for this in our teaching practice. To recognize when a child is beyond their regular comfort zone, and try to make it as comfortable as possible. To try and see misbehaviour as fighting against the uncomfortable. And rather than fighting back, open our arms and making it a warm place.

To make our classroom secure. So we reach a place of good uncomfortable. Stable, solid, but challenging their learning. A place to make mistakes, but be good to make those.



So, I'll fly back tomorrow night. Hoping that my discomfort doesn't interfere with my making my classroom. I've done it for 7 years and have been successful at it (I think). 


And so...to finish....Here's Shakespeare's Henry V:

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'



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