Thanksgiving Post 2 - Students and Gratitute

In case you haven't noticed, anxiety is on the rise.  The data shows that the upward swing for adolescents began after cell phones became ubiquitous.  While they had access to social media before that, it was mostly something they did on their home computer, and that was back when wise parents kept the computer in a public space in their home.  Carrying their computers in their pockets and the invention of infinite scroll meant constant access throughout the day.  The pandemic increased the slope of the upward trend, to be sure, but it did not start it.  

We know that the more time a person spends on social media, the more prone they are to anxiety.  That's just numbers.  But numbers only show you a trend; they don't explain why a trend is true.  Cards on the table; I am not a psychologist.  But in my 25 year teaching career, I've seen enough to know a few things.  One of those things is that envy steals joy in everyone, but especially in adolescents.  Kids who grew up in the Great Depression were less prone to anxiety than modern students who live in relevant affluence.  Why?  I've heard multiple elderly people say, "We were poor, but we didn't know we were poor because everyone was."  They weren't comparing their lives to those above them.  But social media means we see the peak moments in the lives of others, from our friends to celebrities to random strangers.  We see the expensive things people buy and how often they get their nails done; we see their vacation photos and their accomplishments.  And, if they have something we don't have, especially if it is something we might be prone to want, we develop envy.  Adults have minimal ability to place this in perspective and remember that we are comparing our low points to their high points: adolescents have even less ability to do that.

How do we help?  Do we take the action Australia has just taken, banning social media for kids under 16?  While I imagine it would help, I don't see that happening in America.  And, I don't know how they are going to enforce it anyway as it is not hard to lie about your age online.  (I am, however, for parents delaying their child having an internet enabled cell phone for as long as possible.)  

Let's take one step back and remember that social media is the tool, but that tool is delivering the problem rather than being the problem.  

The problem is envy.  There's a reason envy is listed among the seven deadly sins and that coveting anything is forbidden by the Ten Commandments.  The problem with using social media to compare ourselves to others is that it makes us want what other people have rather than being grateful for what we already have.  And, it is never enough.  Even the wealthiest person you know likely still wants to obtain more wealth because they see what someone else has.  

As always, CS Lewis says it well:  "Envy is insatiable. The more you concede to it, the more it will demand."

So, if envy is the problem, what is the solution?  What is the opposite of envy?

It is gratitude.  Teaching our kids to be grateful will do more to help with everyday anxiety than anything else.  (Note:  I am using the phrase "everyday anxiety" because I am not talking about diagnosable anxiety disorders. Those are complex medical issues with layered solutions, and while gratitude will certainly benefit them, I am not trivializing those disorders.)

We should work thankfulness into our lived curriculum.  They should hear us expressing gratitude for what we have and for the people in our lives.  We should thank them for things, and we should be specific about it.  We should remind them of the things they have to be thankful for.  We should ask them what they feel positive about, especially because our minds don't have a natural tendency to dwell on positives.  

This isn't optimism or "toxic positivity." Those tend to ignore real problems that need real solutions.  This is the recognition that, even when there are negatives, there are also blessings.  Philippians 4:8, which reminds us to dwell on things that are "right, pure, lovely, and admirable" was written by a man who regularly reprimanded the churches to whom he was writing; so he wasn't telling them to ignore important issues but to spend time thinking about the good and thanking God for them.  

Sometimes, it is an issue of perspective.  During the Occupy Wall Street protests, it was common to see signs that read, "We are the 99%."  They wanted to draw attention to the fact that most Americans aren't CEOs of major companies that make millions of dollars.  While true, it only applies inside this country.  If those people camping out in city parks had taken a broader view, a world wide view, they would have recognized that they were, in fact, the 1% globally.  Our students see celebrity Instagram accounts and TikTok influencers and believe that is a standard way of living.  We have to help them take the wider view and recognize that others would envy what they have.

Will this take care of all the anxiety issues in our culture.  No.  Will it dramatically help.  Absolutely.

GRACE - A 21 Year Story

As of yesterday, I am no longer a science teacher.  I type that with tears in my eyes, even though I know that I am following the Lord's lead into another mission and another ministry.  For 25 years, I have loved showing teenagers the wonders of the universe and how the world was designed to function.  For 21 of those years, I have been able to explicitly talk about how that connects to our spiritual lives and strengthens our relationship with God.  That was possible because I worked at GRACE Christian School.

On Wednesday, GRACE held a farewell reception for me, and I was able to speak about my story there.  Before I develop a YMCA story and a Professional Development story, I want to share my GRACE story with this blog one more time.  Here's my speech from the reception.

----------------------------------------------

When I left Wake County and started looking for private school jobs, I was sure that there would be a part of myself I'd have to leave in the car every day - the part of me that watched movies and television and listened to secular music.  That had been my experience as a student in a very strict Christian school (one where I got in trouble in the third grade for singing Rockin' Robin in the parking lot).  Teachers who engaged in pop culture certainly didn't tell us about it, and I thought I surely wouldn't be able to.  While I expected that would be difficult, the other alternative was not teaching, which was an unacceptable thought, so I was prepared to do it.

If you are wondering how the world has changed in 21 years, let me tell you about applying to GRACE.  I didn't find the job opening on the school website because there wasn't one or on LinkedIn or Monster or any of the other job sites that didn't exist yet.  I opened the Yellow Pages and sent my resumé to every private school in the area.  I didn't even know GRACE existed.  It was just one of the schools in the phone book.

When GRACE called me, I struggled with what to wear to my interview and how much of my real self to share, but as I sat in Kathie and Teresa's tiny shared office on Edwards Mill Road, I found myself thinking, "Wow! These are remarkably normal people for Christian school administrators."  I think one of them was even wearing pants.  When she offered me the job, Teresa told me she thought I would be a good fit.

When I arrived for teacher orientation, I found a most interesting, complex, and eclectic group of people who loved the Lord and wanted to educate kids.  I was a good fit, not in spite of my quirks, but because of them. I didn't have to leave any part of myself outside the building.  My weirdness wasn't just tolerated.  It was embraced, celebrated, and used.  Unlike public school, where the system is too large to be moved by the ideas of an individual, at GRACE, my input was valued and sought out, even though I was only 27 at the time and had little experience.  It wasn't long before I knew that I was home.

Thank you all for the role each of you has played in forming the teacher and person I am today.  Some of you have challenged me to think differently about the world.  Some of you have shared your children with me.  Some of you have listened to me when I thought I knew what I was talking about.  Some have given me advice when I definitely didn't know what I was talking about.  All of you have made me a better teacher.  

Kathie Thompson, thank you hiring me, giving me the yearbook, and camp.  And thank you for not being terribly upset with me when I broke the building - twice.  Mandy Gill, thank you for creating a space where I was encouraged to try new things and for helping me clean up the mess when some of those things didn't work.  Eric Bradley, thank you for coming here at just the right time and leading us through the most difficult experiences a school can face.  Thank you for sending me to Learning and the Brain six years ago.  Julia Taylor, thank you for creating opportunities for me to share what I had learned and giving me a taste of what it is like to teach teachers.  Daniel Servi and Blake Hickman, you may have to tell each other that I love you now that I won't be here to tell you as frequently.  Thank you for giving me time and space to speak in chapel because I now cannot imagine telling the kids about this in any other way.

We have lived a lot of life together in these 21 years, and I couldn't be more grateful.  You all have laughed with me and cried with me and prayed with me and hugged me and covered my class when a migraine had me puking in a trash can in the hall.  What I found here was a home, and that is what makes leaving so difficult. It feels like leaving home.

When I first started telling people how I felt God was leading, I was nervous because I didn't know how people might react.  But every conversation followed the same pattern:  First, surprise - because obviously, no one expected it, including me.  Immediately followed by "Yeah, I can see God doing that."  Having that kind of affirmation and support meant more to me than I can ever put into words.

I still plan to be around.  I hope to sub a bit, especially in the beginning, and I think I'll have chances to come by for lunch.  I will still attend plays and come to the governor's mansion to see the choir sing at Christmas. You aren't getting rid of me that easily because this is still a home I want to return to.  Thank you all for . . . everything.

Viewing Angle Revisited

I have had a fun experience every day this week.  Our new earth science teacher is across the hall from me.  As we have prepared for the start of the year, she has naturally had a number of questions.  

• Is it okay if I hang this in my room?  
• Yes, of course.  
• Am I allowed to put this in my policies?  
• Sure, if that'll work for your classroom.
• I went to IT to ask if they had any iPads left from the hybrid year.  
• They said they didn't have extras, but they would order me one.  They wanted me to have what I needed.
• How do I go about requesting more . . .?
• They are in the supply cabinet in the teachers' lounge.  You can just pick them up the next time you are there.

It would be difficult to describe the look on her face with the answers to each of these questions.  There is a disbelief that her professional judgment would be trusted in most cases.  I have loved watching her react to this because it reminds me that this is not normal.

I have been at GRACE for 20 years, and it is easy to lose sight of the limitations other teachers have to deal with, even slip into a sense of entitlement.  Having someone whose viewing angle is different allows me to see it differently.  It reminds me to have gratitude.  

I'm not saying GRACE is perfect.  Frustrations will come throughout the year because we are a building full of sinners, like everyone else.  But in those times, it will be helpful to revisit these experiences and remember that I also have it pretty great.

I'm Naming It - Chronic Stress Recovery Syndrome.

I don't respond to things appropriately anymore.  This week, five people were shot and killed four and a half miles from my house, and I have spent very little time thinking about it unless someone else brings it up.  Yet, I overreact to small setbacks during the day and laughed unreasonably hard at a story during this morning's sermon.  It's like the pandemic damaged my barometer.  My colleagues have reported they notice the same thing in themselves.

As it turns out, this is a symptom of dealing with chronic stress, which teachers and other essential workers have definitely been doing since the beginning of the pandemic.  Now that things are returning to somewhat normal, many have been feeling things they had not been during the height of the pandemic. I compare this to getting sick on the first day of Christmas break; your body knows how to power through the time it needs to an allows you to give in when there is a chance to use that energy in other ways.  While most people are calling what we have right now PTSD, I have been searching for another term.  For one thing, I am uncomfortable with the idea of being in the same category as those who have experienced acute trauma, like soldiers who have watched a friend die, kids who have witnessed and/or experienced abuse, or victims of bank robberies.  Our jobs were very hard, but our experience is not an acute high level event; it is a prolonged endurance of physical, mental, and emotional difficulty.  I have spent about a year searching for a name for what we are confronting, and I haven't found it.  Therefore, I have decided to name it myself. I am calling it Chronic Stress Recovery Syndrome.

Let me be clear from the start, I have no expertise or training in psychology.  What I'm good at is learning, so what I am about to talk about comes from reading and listening.  Also, I cannot speak to what this time has been like for doctors, nurses, restraunt employees, or Amazon delivery drivers, all of whom had to reinvent their practice at a time when their services were in the highest demand they had ever experienced.  I can only speak to teaching in my context. For me, that included a spring of remote teaching, a year of hybrid teaching, and year that was supposed to be normal but wasn't (due to the Delta and Omicron variants).  Also, since I have no professional expertise, my intent is to speak to those of us with relatively mild symptoms that we can treat ourselves.  If you are experiencing anything more than that, please seek the help of a qualified professional.

With those disclaimers in mind, here's what I have found.

The symptoms of chronic stress are:

• Fatigue - Teachers all over Twitter are talking about how tired they are.  I've seen things like, "I'm February tired, and it's only October."  (If you aren't an educator, you may not understand the idea of being February tired, but I have written about it before if you are interested.)  Any stress requires physical energy to manage.  During the hybrid year, we were learning so many new things, making decisions without being confident in them, and operating each day using every ounce of energy we had.  Some days, we operated at an energy deficit, and because it was a chronic experience, there wasn't time to refill those stores of depleted energy.  One thing I've learned is that fatigue may present itself differently in some people than others.  In most people, it will feel like exhaustion; in others, it may be muscle aches or soreness.  
• Emotional disregulation - This is what I was talking about at the beginning of the post.  You may overreact to some things and underreact to others.  As teachers, we have to be careful because answering an email from an emotionally dysfunction place can get us in trouble pretty quickly.  I found myself needing to apologize a few times last year for reacting to a student's behavior disproportionately.  
• Frequent headaches, digestive disruptions, and weight changes - Your brain and body are connected, so they tend to influence each other.  Fortunately, this is also part of helping yourself, so keep reading.
• Lowered immune system - Because your energy reserves are being used elsewhere, there isn't energy left for fighting off germs.  This is obviously not ideal in a pandemic.  You may also be more prone to injury and take longer to heal.  

So the news is not good for the chronic stress sufferer.  With time and intention, however, things can get better.  Here are some ways to help yourself, but don't expect it to improve overnight.  Your mind has been through a lot, so in the same way you would give your body time to recover from an injury or surgery, give your brain time to adapt to the new normal.  Here are some things you can do:

• Eat well and exercise - I know you are thinking that you can't possible exercise because you are so tired.  That's the paradox of exercise.  Once you have overcome the inertia, it gives you energy because your body is working the way it should.  If you go outside, you'll also get a much needed hit of vitamin D.  Grab a quick walk during lunch or your planning period, even if it is just five minutes.  Consuming nutrient dense foods will help with your immune deficiency and fatigue as well.
• Breathe well - Have you ever noticed during times of high stress that you take pretty shallow breaths.  You may be tired because you aren't fully oxygenating your blood.  It's posisble you havne't taken a deep breath in two and a half years.  I'm not suggesting that you have to take a yoga class, but a couple of times a day, take a second to notice your breathing and take a few deep breaths in a row.  It will calm you, decrease your heart rate, and help your blood pressure.
• Social interaction - One of the most difficult parts of social distancing was that we were, well, distant.  I went ten and a half weeks without being physically touched by another human being.  Even then, it was hugging my mom about once a week.  Thankfully, I have friends who made the effort to have lunches over Google Meet during that time and who made sure we talked for whatever time we could during the hybrid and depressed year.  We sat far across the room from each other while we ate lunch or after school, but we made each other laugh, which mattered a lot.
• Do things you don't want to - Early last year, when I noticed that I wasn't feeling right, I reached out to our school counselor (speaking of people who are still experiencing chronic stress - they are taking on all of ours - pray for them).  Perhaps the most important piece of advice she gave me was to do things I didn't want to do.  When you aren't mentally healthy, neither are your desires, so what you want to do is probably not what you should do.  You may want to stay home and curl up on the sofa with your cat, but you should do the opposite of that.  Following through on your commitments will help you feel a sense of accomplishment that staying in won't, and you will usually be glad that you participated in the activity once you are there.  Volunteer for something (It doesn't have to be huge, maybe a school activity or a church event that only lasts one day).  Meet a friend for lunch or a card game.  When you feel the pull of the bed or sofa, say out loud, "I should do the opposite of this."  You'll be glad you did.
• Gratitude - It is so easy to slip into cynicism.  It requires no effort at all.  Gratitude takes effort, but it is well worth it.  Unless you are a natural journaler, I'm not suggesting that you start a gratitude journal because you won't keep up with it, and then you'll feel like a failure, which helps nothing.  What I'm suggesting is that each morning or night (or both) that you think of something for which you are grateful.  It could be a small thing, like having enough school supplies when you know other people don't.  It could be a person you love.  It could be the fact that we aren't in masks this year.  It could be the flowers in your front yard or that you have a front yard.  Don't try to force yourself into something with rules (like writing down five things - again, you don't want to set yourself up for failure).  Instead, sit on the edge of the bed and think of something, anything, that you are glad to have in your life.

This will get better, but it isn't going to happen right away.  Every once in a while, notice that you are a little better than you were a week ago or a month ago, and make that one of the things for which you are grateful.  While there is no official diagnosis of Chronic Stress Recovery Syndrome because it is a term I made up, recognize that it includes the word "recovery."  It's not about perfection.  It's about getting better, and you will get better.

Renewed Traditions Renew Gratitude

I am interrupting the Learning and the Brain Reflections series because I am compelled to talk about the power of what I experienced last week.  

I went into the week prepared for exhaustion because I was looking at the number of events and how late each would be.  It was also the week where a few days are devoted to exam review, and of course, it is also the time to get grades finalized before heading into exam week.  What I didn't know was how powerful those late-night events would be and how much I needed them to happen.

School is a lot of things.  Among everything else school is, it is a series of traditions.  From the senior breakfast on the first day of school to middle school letters to graduation, the year is filled with traditions.  Traditions are important because they anchor us psychologically to a time and place and culture, giving us a sense of belonging and predictability.  Whether it is something small like the way you greet kids every Monday (or the Brown Rabbit thing our English teacher does that I don't truly understand but has staying power with some of our students long after they've graduated) or something big like having your students create a piece of artwork for the school, traditions give kids a sense of stability and safety.  

One of the most difficult things about Covid was that it upended almost all of our traditions.  Starting in the spring of 2020, school plays were canceled all over the country (I thanked God so often we had already had ours).  Yearbook signings were digital, which was a nice touch, but let's admit isn't as good.  Every school was faced with figuring out graduations, which were handled in a variety of ways, from a simple drive-in diploma pickup to individual graduations for each student.  Even though I was teaching face to face (hybrid) in the 2020-2021 school year, most of our traditions either couldn't happen (Grandparents Day, Christmas programs, basketball games with fans) or had to happen in a modified way.  We were all physically exhausted, so I'm not sure how much time we spent reflecting on the impact of each of these lost traditions.  For me, that happened last week, when two of them returned.

Monday night, our theater and dance programs had their Christmas productions.  As kids danced to "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" and "Mary, Did You Know?" the audience got to experience beautiful movement in a way they haven't in quite a while.  We sat together and giggled at silly jokes in a faux news report about Christmas.  We held our breath together while I sixth grader's eyes filled with tears because she had forgotten her lines and were collectively proud of her as she persevered through it.  It has been a while since I have laughed as hard as I did at the Star Wars Nativity skit, where a senior with Yoda ears walked around on his knees, saying the lines of the angel Gabriel.  (What most of the audience didn't know was that a few of those students filled in for a sick classmate and found out mere hours before they stepped on the stage.)  We all left feeling more cheerful than when we arrived, in part because the skits were fun and Christmasy, but also because we were once again experiencing this tradition together.

Friday night, our band and choir were back on stage for the first time since Christmas 2019.  While we had school plays last year (the fall one virtually presented and the spring one in person), band and choir were hit especially hard because students could not stand together to sing and wind instruments were, in the words of our band director, pressurized germ cannons.  They did their best to keep the power of musical arts in the lives of our students.  Our choir director sent out a zoom-style performance at Christmas and graduation, and while that was helpful, it just doesn't have the same power as students standing next to each other harmonizing.  Our band director turned every student into a percussionist, and they got to enjoy playing music together, but they really only got to hear each other because we couldn't have concerts.  Friday night, I stood in the corner with my camera, taking photos of girls in pretty black dresses again for the first time since the start of the pandemic.  When five high school students began to sing, "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" and "Silent Night," I cried with relief that this program was still here, even if it is a small group that will anchor future growth.  When they sang "Carol of the Bells," I cried until the top of my mask was soaked (I don't know if you have experienced masked crying, but it's pretty gross.  I knew that from experience, but I made no effort to hold back these tears because they were joyful.) because that has been my favorite Christmas tradition for many years, and it was back!  When the band played a song with three drum solos (each of the three students taking over for the last without missing a beat - literally), they had the entire audience in awe.  In spite of how physically tired I was, I left that night with so much joy because we were able to experience traditions again, and we were able to do it together.

Is it normal yet?  No.  The audience was masked, and the kids took them off to perform and put them back on.  The choir didn't get to do their usual performances at the governor's mansion and the state capitol building.  We are still getting periodic news of students in quarantine.  While the world seemed to shut down at all at once, re-opening is slow and staggered and challenging and messy.  But, every time something returns, we have more gratitude for it because of having lost them for the past 21 months.  Whatever you are able to do this year that you couldn't do last year, enjoy it, and be more grateful for it than you might have been in 2019.

Grateful for The Modern World

The modern world is . . . a lot.  Information overload is a real thing affecting our brains.  We don't know what the long-term effects of screen time will be on our development and eyeballs.  Deadlines seem to come faster and faster than they did before, and all the things that are labeled "conveniences" just raise the expectations of workload.  Sometimes, progress feels like more of a burden than not.

Yesterday, however, I spent the day feeling grateful for many aspects of the modern world.  I had a number of errands to run.

First, I went to the grocery store.  While I am often stunned by how little food can add up to such a high price, I was able to drive there in a car and buy a wide variety of things, many of which are not in season in my area, and I was able to put them into a refrigerator which would keep them fresh for a while.  When I cook them, I won't have to build a fire.  I will simply turn a knob on the oven.

Then, I took my car to Walgreens for a flu shot.  While I had to wait in line, I did so in an air-conditioned store.  While there was a bit of confusion about my insurance, they were able to straighten it out with a phone call while I waited in a padded chair and read a book.  I know books aren't new, but there was a time when books would have been very expensive and difficult to obtain.  I got this one delivered to my doorstep within two days of my friend, Blake, recommending it; and I paid only four dollars for it.  When they took me into the room to administer the shot, it took about five seconds and was accomplished with a sterile needle by a trained professional.  In the early days of vaccines, a man pulled up to your house with a smallpox victim in a wagon, cut the recipient's arm with a razor blade, and smeared the contents of a blister into it.  The modern world of vaccines is astounding.

My car was very far overdue for an oil change, so I headed to Take Five, where they informed me that they couldn't service my type of car, something I knew but had forgotten.  I couldn't remember the location of where I had gotten it changed the last time, so I went home and Googled my nearest Snappy Lube (Yes, I know you are thinking that if only I had a cell phone, I could have avoided the trip home, but I am comfortable with my life choices).  I found the location in moments and headed out again.  When I got there, I was told they would have to order the filter.  I braced myself for hearing that I would need to come back next week when the man said, "It will take anywhere from 1 to 2 and half hours for it to arrive."  He seemed surprised when I told him I was happy to wait.  I sat down in the air-conditioned lobby with my book and my iPod and listened to the wisdom of some Bible teachers who are able to share their thoughts from a studio in Texas, which I then downloaded to listen to at my own convenience.  The part arrived quicker than expected, and I was out of the store in just over an hour.  While things like oil changes and inspections and other care maintenance can be sometimes annoyingly inconvenient, they are far more convenient than the maintenance a horse would require, which is what I would have had a century ago.  I am grateful for the ability to own a car.

During all of this, my house was being vacuumed by my little Roomba, my dishwasher was cleaning the dishes, and my washing machine was cleaning my clothes.  These are all tasks that would have taken a lot of time and physical energy to accomplish just a few decades ago.  This weekend, without my even being present, devices made it possible for me to come home to clean dishes, clean clothes, and a clean floor.

When I got home, I realized that I needed to connect with a few colleagues about something, and I sent an email.  At the beginning of my career, this would have required either waiting until Monday when I could see them or making several phone calls.  While there are some headaches that come with email, I love that I can contact a large number of people at once and even schedule what time it sends.  And, of course, without computer technology, education would not have been possible for the past 18 months.

I am also grateful for my eyeglasses, my orthotic shoe inserts, easy-to-obtain vitamins, toothpaste, the postal service, soft drinks in aluminum cans (do you know that aluminum was once the most expensive metal in the world?), YouTube, lawnmowers, digital cameras, alarm clocks with snooze alarms, sunscreen, television, and hairdryers.

How does this relate to education?  It only relates in the sense that we live our lives in front of students.  We can model frustration when deadlines are looming or tech gets glitchy, or we can model gratitude that the tech exists in the first place and give them a perspective they do not have, that of a person who lived before and had to do all of their work manually.  We can teach them to view things from multiple angles and change their reactions based on that perspective.