Turning tables…
“Pippi,” said the teacher impatiently, “why aren’t you drawing on the piece of paper???”
“I filled it up long ago…
I couldn’t get my horse on that tiny scrap of paper,” said Pippi…
“Right now I’m drawing his front legs, but when I get to the tail I’ll probably have to go out into the hallway…”
The teacher thought hard for a moment…
“Why don’t we sing a little song instead,” she suggested…
All the children stood up next to their desks—
all except Pippi, who was still lying on the floor…
“Go ahead and sing,” she said…
“I’ll just rest for a while…
All this learning can be too much for even the strongest person…”
— in Pippi Longstocking by Astrid Lindgren, Illustrated by Lauren Child
When I tell people that I have suffered from A.D.D. they roll their eyes,
which is rather rude…
I’ve heard people say,
You’re the calmest person I’ve ever met,
and you get so much done…
Well you certainly cannot judge a book by its cover,
especially in this day and age…
Those people have not seen me write report cards,
or clean my house,
or knit five sweaters at once while I’m sewing quilts and flamenco skirts and writing stories and making buffalo jerky and watching hockey games and throwing pots and making lunches and folding laundry and stuffing birds…
I have the attention span of a flea,
but I get the job done…
More than one job by the end of the process,
and the finished products are worth waiting for,
if I may say so myself…
And I may because this is MY story…
It’s official…
I’ve resigned myself from the PhD plan…
The paper work has been signed off…
It has been approved…
I had to ask myself a series of questions before I made my final decision…
I said,
Self,
Do you want to read philosophy books???
Do you want to quote from philosophers???
Are you interested in conventional philosophical conversations???
Do you want to read academic journals???
Do you want to attend academic conferences or any conference at all for that matter???
Do you want to write in APA format???
Do you want a committee to supervise you???
Do you want to be unambivalent and unambiguous???
Do you want to submit your work???
Basically I came up with a steady stream of NO’s…
I felt like I was having a conversation with a two year old,
and it was fabulous,
because the old me,
the one I was before I’d completely altered my DNA,
would have felt NO,
but said YES…
And before you can really say YES,
you have to be able to say NO…
Thank god I’m forty-two,
and not six,
or the teacher may have labeled me,
with Oppositional Defiance Disorder…
Instead she offered her unconditional support,
and said,
I do wish you all the best with your evolving life-research and living inquiry…
That’s the kind of endorsement you need and want from your teacher,
regardless of whether you’re in Kindergarten,
or working at the doctoral level…
You can’t hold a bird back when it wants to fly to the light…
I remember receiving a student into my grade one class after the Christmas holidays…
A little girl…
The report card that I read as my introduction to her was full of self-hatred,
projected onto a child…
It was written by her teacher who had also passed the test to be appointed by the board,
as an administrator…
I have never read such a spiteful document in all of my life as a teacher…
It should not have seen the light of day,
or been signed off by a principal…
As I write this it feels like the elephant in the room is sitting on my chest,
and the only way to move it along is to cry,
hard,
and keep writing…
Based on her classroom behaviour,
and performance,
this girl had been referred to the community mental health team and was on a new prescription of medication to treat her A.D.D.,
and suppress her symptoms,
before Christmas…
The prescribing doctor came to observe her in my classroom after she’d had a few weeks to settle in…
After his visit he told me over the phone,
This is a completely different child than the one who had been referred to me…
And she is a completely different person in your classroom…
This is the first case I’ve seen where I would say that the prescribed medication has been a success…
I didn’t know then what I know now,
but the mother hit the nail on the head during our first Three-Way conference,
where she and her child came to discuss growth,
areas for further development,
and a child determined learning goal…
She said,
The way you are with my child is completely different from anything that I have ever seen…
You speak with her as if she is an equal…
Like she has a right to be part of this conversation,
and her own learning process…
When she asks to go to the bathroom and takes the time she needs,
you don’t interrogate her,
and assume the worst…
You ask her why she needed that time,
and you believe what she says…
My friend told me to bring my child to this school…
I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do…
I have to drive a long way to get here,
and it is really out of my way…
I don’t think she needs the medication any more,
and I don’t want her to be on it…
It changes who she is…
That year I had some old lace curtains in my Imagination Centre…
AKA the House Centre…
Old lace rescued from someone who was intent on throwing it all away…
Every single day for the rest of that school year,
January, February, March, April, May, and June,
this little girl found new ways to turn those squares of old lace into the most beautiful dresses,
for herself,
and her new friends…
This was before the age of digital cameras,
and laptops…
It was when I wrote report cards by hand,
with a Pilot fineliner…
But it was less than ten years ago,
and before I had the focus to start documenting classroom magic…
When I applied for the doctoral program a professor told me that there was concern about my ability,
to meet deadlines…
I found that interesting because I got my application in early,
and after I’d completed the required coursework,
and graduated from the program,
I was browsing through the bookstore
and found sections of my first and only late paper,
in the concerned professor’s latest book…
I wasn’t surprised to notice that despite all of his education,
and credentials,
he’d missed the whole point of the exercise,
the inquiry,
and my core message…
I’m nearly finished the first series golf cardigan I started during game one with The Canucks versus the L.A. Kings…
During game six Little Gem said,
Mama, I hope that you’re not worried because the Canucks are going to win this game,
which is good,
because I’m tired of them playing against the Kings…
On Saturday,
when the Canucks meet the Blackhawks in Chicago,
I’m going to be starting a corseted tank top,
as part of a sweater set…
Knitted in Purelife Organic Cotton…
dyed with Logwood…
And I won't let you choke on the noose around your neck...
Advancing arguments…
At first her mother was too surprised to speak…
Then she turned to May, patted her on the shoulder, and said,
“Nice try, but not now…”
She called a taxi so May could take the puppy right back to the pet store…
May kept repeating to herself,
“Try, try, try again…'”
— in I Want a Dog by Dayal Kaur Khalsa
In public education everyone is always looking for the next best thing…
Cutting edge theory and outside voice that will change everything,
for everyone…
Looking to academics who live in countries with struggling fractured public education systems to give the answers…
I know this from my own experience…
I worked in a school which took on a theory of Multiple Intelligences because the principal was working on her doctorate,
and implementation of the theory was her dissertation project…
There were Pro-D days and workshops so we could all be sure of talking the talk…
Plans for surface skimming lessons were handed out left,
right,
and centre,
in order to develop little brains sectioned off into pie pieces…
People came from far away to visit our school…
To witness the theory of Multiple Intelligences in practice…
I remember the day a group of teachers from Sweden came into my classroom…
We were all gathered on the carpet making observations about our classroom pets…
One of the visitors asked my class,
Which intelligence do you use when you learn about the little bunnies???
The notebooks and pens were poised for one brilliant right answer…
And they got one…
Before I could say anything to prompt or direct response,
a small sharp voice from the back of the group piped up,
We use our rabbit smarts!!!
That pretty much sums things up for theory driving practice right into left field…
When that principal left a new one came…
One who enforced the language of the theory,
with reptilian eyes…
She met with a lot of resistance…
I saw one male teacher after another leave the school for higher grounds…
And I saw some of the women who stayed behind crumble…
I always wondered,
How do you grow children when you aren’t given the space to grow as a professional,
in the directions that life takes you in your classroom,
with your students…
I refused to buckle,
but I soaked up and masked the pain of suppression in my stomach…
And I tightened up my armour…
After that principal was finally moved along,
a new one came…
She had the confidence in her own leadership,
and her esteemed colleagues,
to let us spread our wings in our own way…
Despite our differences I saw her building basic trust and common sense as a foundation for growing practice…
She never feared to lay all the cards on the table,
in an ongoing act of transparency…
As I mantled and celebrated the difference in my class,
sharing stories of ambiguic and incongruic understanding,
she took notes,
and named my practice under the architectural theory of universal design…
Designing learning space to support the most unique in the community supports the whole,
a whole lot better…
In my last year at that school,
one boy,
defined on the autism-spectrum for reasons I still can’t comprehend,
as he never failed to look me eye-to-eye,
complained about having to follow particular class rules and protocol…
His protest wore me down,
so I let him stay in his desk drawing,
with a few others,
while the rest of the class sat on the floor,
as long as they kept the peace…
Before long they were all in their desks,
drawing along their own maps,
as we talked and read and spelled from one day,
into the next…
This boy said,
repeatedly,
with grand sighs,
anger,
and intense frustration,
I wish I were in military school…
I didn’t tell him,
I’m only willing to take you where I’m comfortable,
and that is straight to the loonie bin…
I made it quite clear that I can arrange that for you right here,
right now…
He looked at me with a come on let’s go…
We threw our gloves and our helmets off and went to all of the places he needed to be,
and I needed to go as well…
One minute I was his majesty,
and he was my guard…
In other moments I was the commander,
the chief,
and the enemy…
And we had conversations just like this,
Your Majesty…
Yes gallant Sir.
I have a responsibility…
What is your responsibility???
It is my heart…. I have to listen to it.
It tells me to be still…. being still is to do nothing.
When I am still I think about history, biology, science,
and mathematics…
I am seven…
My favourite thing is the war of 1812…
And your Majesty,
my job is to protect you…
And my job gallant Sir
is to listen to you…
This little boy got what he needed to work through the pieces of his puzzle that were coming up for him,
and I got what I needed to move him through the prescribed learning outcomes of every student will that I chose to address,
and then some…
I didn’t find this method in textbooks,
or,
with all due respect,
from Dr. Howard Gardner or any of his Harvard buddies…
I can be easily informed by theory,
but I learn best on the fly…
Letting go of determination,
and following instinct,
wherever it takes us together…
I heard his teacher from the year before say,
under her breath in the staffroom,
That boy sat on the floor with everyone else when he was in my class…
I don’t know why she gives special treatment…
I thought but didn’t say,
Didn’t he have autism when he was with you…
I’d never seen a child so animated and socially enthusiastic…
Spirit shooting out of his heart at choice time,
in dramatic play…
Someone told me last week that the Sedins used to be called The Girls,
of NHL hockey…
And that they’ve had to pave a hard road to respect…
A good thing they’ve always had each other…
Yesterday I heard a clown on the Team 1040 speculate on Kyle Wellwood’s place on next year’s roster…
I’d like to put a skirt on the people who talk about my horses like that…
If things had gone the way of the whims of the peanut gallery and their opinions on dead wood,
assisted by Pavol and Kyle,
Steve Bernier wouldn’t be here scoring critical goals in the series against the Kings,
and we’d all be using our whirling white towels for drying dishes…
Difference makers don’t set up to stay in standard packaging,
tied up with big numbers…
They play the game that is required of them,
right at the very moment they need to,
and often,
but not always,
in ways that haven’t been seen before…
Last night Little Gem echoed her sister and said,
Mama, I feel so happy and relaxed…
I was relieved that they couldn’t feel my splitting headache…
Then she snuggled up beside me under our story blanket and added,
You know Henrik and Daniel don’t look scary like some of those hockey players…
They seem like nice people,
and sweet too…
Just the kind of people you like to make friends with…
I remember the last time our principal told us that Howard Gardner had called from his office at Harvard,
to see how his theory was flying in practice…
She said,
something like,
I told him that his theory’s been grounded…
then she looked at me and said,
I told him that some of you are flying in your own directions,
with spectacular results…
I will go down with this ship...
Building character…
That night, Roselupin looked good and hard at the golden box with her name on it…
Then she went over to the box, took out all of the balls of red wool she could find…
and began to knit…
She knitted and knitted the whole night through…
And when she had finished, Roselupin put on her new red wolf suit and said:
If the world’s too wild for the likes of me,
Then a BIG RED WOLF I’d rather be…
No sooner were the words out of Roselupin’s new red wolfy mouth…
than she began to grow…
— in The Red Wolf by Margaret Shannon
On Friday I was walking back to school from the swimming pool with Little Gem’s class…
She and I were snacking on some grass-fed bison jerky…
A trio of boys behind us were fascinated by what we were eating…
Usually they tell Little Gem that her lunch is gross,
so she makes me make it all very plain,
with no sauce,
for the purposes of comment reduction…
I asked her if she was worried about eating jerky in front of her classmates…
She grinned at me as she ripped at the meat with her incisors…
No way Jose…
This is way too delicious…
I heard another mother trying to explain jerky,
to the boys,
in french…
She kept talking about beef…
I turned around and said,
This is buffalo…
Do you want to try it???
All hands were out…
The mom asked me,
Did you make this yourself???
When I said yes she told the boys,
This is very special…
I told them that it has powers…
They said they could feel it,
and they wanted more…
The mom said,
You should send some of this to The Canucks…
It might help them on their journey…
I told the boys,
If the Canucks win the Stanley Cup then you’ll know that I’ve sent them my secret recipe…
Little Gem told me later,
The boys don’t think you’re weird anymore…
Now they think you’re cool…
I heard Lucas say,
This is the best thing that I have ever eaten in my whole life!!!
I heard the boys speculating on whether I’d hunted the buffalo myself,
with bow and arrow…
I turned to them and said,
Not this time…
And the thing is,
when you’re with children and you say things like that,
they don’t send for the paddy wagon,
twirl their finger by the side of their head,
or ask,
What are you talking about???
because they know…
The question that they do have is,
Are you coming again next week???
and
Will you please share some more of your buffalo???
Canuck'd 