Reflections on the Year

Anyone who knows me or reads this blog knows that I think most people's reaction to New Year's is stupid.  I do not believe January 1 is different from any other day just because we change the number on the year.  I do not believe that New Year's Eve has magical powers to change things.  The dropping of a ball made of crystal in Time Square doesn't make tomorrow different from today, and nothing changes if we don't make it change.  I do, however, believe very strongly in self-reflection, and while I do that frequently, this seems like as good a time as any to reflect on what I have learned from the past twelve months.

Never Say "Can't" - A year ago, we did not know school buildings would be closed in March.  If someone had suggested it, I would have said, "That's crazy.  Schools can't be shut down.  They're schools."  Well, it turns out they can be.  For nine weeks, I stood behind a table, talking to my laptop from a little-used room in my house.  When summer was drawing to a close and school districts were deciding how to reopen, I saw a lot of hand-clap-emoji-filled tweets with the word "can't" in them.  They asserted that it wasn't possible to teach kids in a classroom and at home simultaneously.  It turns out that, while it is not ideal in any way, we can.  I would imagine this didn't just apply to teaching.  I bet most news organizations, late-night talk show hosts, and athletic organizations would have said they couldn't do things the way we are regularly doing them right now.  I'll be enormously grateful when we don't have to do things in these strange ways, but it is interesting to know that we can.

Brain Health is Delicate - I have been interested in the brain's role in learning for my entire career, but I can't say I've ever thought about how important it is to keep it healthy.  That's because before now, my normal life was, in fact, without my even knowing it, perfect for its health.  I had had a daily schedule, lots of interaction with people, decent nutrition, and mentally challenging tasks.  When my interactions with people became virtual and I went without physical touch for almost three months, the neurotransmitter balance in my brain was thrown completely out of whack.  While I did everything I could to maintain its health in other ways (see this post), I could definitely feel the effects of that imbalance.  The return to school has helped, but I still notice that my brain is not at its optimum level of function.  

Schedules Equal Productivity - I have long been a planner.  I lived my life by "to do" lists and deadlines and goals.  What I didn't realize was that, without those things, I would do nothing.  Because the spring was so difficult, I thought I would give myself some time in the summer to sleep in and do whatever came my way that day.  It led to my doing absolutely nothing.  I mean it, knot-on-a-log levels of nothing.  After two days of that, I realized that if I kept it up, I was going to get to the end of the summer fat and shameful, so I made a summer schedule.  Making the bed, eating at set times of day, and knowing what you want to accomplish is the only way to getting anything meaningful done.

Unconscious Bias is Real - As a science teacher, I teach my students about the influence of bias on science.  I do not teach them that scientists have no bias;  I teach them that we all have bias and that is the job of a scientist to design experiments that mitigate their impact.  The most dangerous scientists are those who believe themselves to be unbiased because being blind to them means they won't take steps to reduce their effects.  By definition, unconscious bias is something you are unaware is part of you.  It's likely deeply ingrained from childhood experiences and, therefore, difficult for you to see in yourself.  If you want to become aware of it, you have to do something really scary.  You have to ask others.  Don't just ask around to everyone, but find someone you trust to tell you the truth rather than just agree with you.  Ask them specific questions about what they see in you.  You can't address it if you don't know about it, so dig deep as the Psalmist did when he asked God "Search me, O God, and know my heart. Try me and know my thoughts!  And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!" (Psalm 139-23-24 ESV)

Know How to Disagree Well - When I was in middle and high school, there was nothing I enjoyed more than a good theological debate with my friend, Rebecca.  We had opposite views on most theological issues, but we knew each other's hearts and minds so well that we could debate for an hour without either of us thinking the other was stupid or immoral for holding to those opinions.  We respected that the other friend loved Jesus as much as we did and was at least as smart as we were (although Rebecca was objectively smarter than I was).  I love a lot of people that I disagree with, but I've never lost respect for more people than I have this year.  What's different from those debates I had with Rebecca?  Because of our mutual respect for each other, we truly listened to each other.  That's not what has happened this year.  People that I love have shown that they do not want to hear what anyone else thinks.  From willing ignorance of science to outright worship of political figures to unwillingness to address injustice, I have been disillusioned by those whose hearts I did not know before.  To disagree well, you must have trust and you must listen.  That's not what is happening right now.

I Have Excessive Love for My Co-Workers - This one I knew already.  However, it fits here because of how incredible they have been this year.  In the previous paragraph, I talked about how people showed their hearts in a negative way.  My GRACE friends are the opposite.  I have seen their hearts to be bigger than I already knew they were.  Our leaders have worked themselves to exhaustion.  People took on projects that weren't part of their job.  Without the ability to touch others, they have found ways to reach out.  I cannot imagine enduring the past few years (our 2019 was no picnic) with anyone else.  

Thanking People is Good For You - One of the ways I kept connection in the spring was by writing to people.  I spent my office hours writing notes to students until I had sent a card to all of them.  I enjoyed it, and I like supporting the postal service, so when I had gotten through my roster, I wrote to former students and alumni and many of my co-workers.  In July, I wrote to all of the students I would teach this year.  When the school year started, I was out of people to write to; but I enjoyed it too much to stop.  I decided to write to people whose work brings me joy.  From Stephen Colbert to my favorite podcast hosts to actors in my favorite movies, I have written to dozens of people for no other reason than to say thank you.  I have heard back from only a few of them, but that's not why I did it.  I want to thank people for putting their gifts into the world in a way that brings me joy, and what has been good for me is that it makes me think of everyday things for which to be grateful.  Gratitude is good for your soul in a way positivity just is not.

While I don't believe there is any power in the idea of a new year, I do believe you should take time to reflect.  Perhaps for you, this is a good week to do that.  What have you learned this year?

A Weary World Rejoices

This blog is usually about education.  As far as I can tell going into this writing, this one won't be.  I'm just meandering in my thoughts.  You are reading a blog called "On the Rabbit Trail," so you have to expect it will sometimes stray.

I was listening to a podcast yesterday, in which a musician was being interviewed about Christmas music.  He referenced "Christmas Time is Here," the song from A Charlie Brown Christmas as one of his favorites.  The interviewer said, "That's a little melancholy, isn't it?"  The musician talked about why he loved melancholy Christmas songs, and it resonated with me.  I have always loved songs like, "Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel" and "Lo, How a Rose Ere Blooming" and "Come Thou Long Expected Jesus."  These hymn writers seemed to understand something that modern Western culture has forgotten.  What made Christmas matter was that the world was dark and broken.  When Jesus was born, it wasn't into a holly, jolly time with a triumphant trumpet blast.  He came into a poor town, was announced to shepherd, was born to a poor couple, and spent his first nights in a stable.  He came to redeem us, and we killed him for it.  I'm not a church calendar gal, but my understanding is that the purpose of the advent season is to recognize and mark the time of waiting and longsuffering before celebrating the birth of Christ.

Some of the great songs written in war times were "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and "I'll Be Home for Christmas."  They recognized in a different way that the world is not as it should be.  People pined for their loved ones and the things they missed.  They understood that they couldn't manufacture cheer while there were empty chairs at their dinner table.  

Today, I went to the grocery store.  As I entered, the music system was playing, "Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas.  As I left, it played "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree." I'm not saying these songs shouldn't have been played in the store or that they shouldn't be played in your home.  It felt strange today because, on the way to the store, I had been thinking about what a large number 300000 is when it comes to deaths from a single source and how it was like having 100 September 11th events in one year and how we really need to have some kind of national expression of grief like we did after the Oklahoma City Bombing and how I felt as a child when Ronald Reagan spoke after the explosion of the Challenger and what might be an appropriate time and method of doing that for this time (perhaps on the anniversary of the first documented American death, which I believe is in early February).  All of this was running around in my mind when I was told by the music system that this was the best time of the year and that I should have a cup of cheer, greet people on the street, and kiss someone under the mistletoe.  It just felt strange.

My favorite Christmas song of all time is "Oh, Holy Night."  There are a lot of reasons for this.  I have vivid childhood memories of it being sung in my church by a man whose voice could raise you so high you had to look down to see the Star of Bethlehem.  The origin story of the song is also kind of interesting, if a little controversial and its adoption by the abolitionist movement due to the line "Chains shall he break for the slave is our brother" just make it even more compelling.  Also, it is just a beautiful song with so much meaning and well orchestrated to bring your emotions to an apex just before "fall on your knees."  There's so much to love about this song.  

This year, what has struck me more than ever is the line, "A thrill of hope.  A weary world rejoices."  Perhaps that is because the world is so markedly weary this year, I love that this line notes that the world rejoiced and yet was still weary.  Hope is needed as much now as it was over 2000 years ago.  People without faith are counting on their hope coming from a political candidate or the vaccine or a stimulus check.  As Christians, we should recognize that our hope is from the same place it always has been, that child born in Bethlehem whose life and work and death and resurrection redeems us from our sins.  

I know my thoughts are not terribly well organized here, but I think the point I am making is this.  Take some time to listen to a slow, sad Christmas song this week and remember that Christmas is important because we had a need.  We didn't need to feel good.  We needed hope.  We didn't need lights.  We needed a redeemer.  We didn't need sugar cookies.  We needed a savior.  I like all of those things and am glad we will have them, but let's take a break from them for a few minutes to recognize the brokenness of the world and the answer to that brokenness.  Then, weary as we are, we can rejoice "for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn."

What I Don't Know How to Do

On Monday, my physics students participated in the culmination of our study of rotary motion.  They were assigned the task of designing and building a spinning top with the goal of spinning for the longest period of time.  They were required to defend their choices of mass, radius, and shape using physics.  Then, we have a tournament to see whose design results in the longest spin.  

This is even a project that can work in hybrid situations. You may notice that in the bottom two pictures, there is a student who is spinning his top on a table at home because he was quarantined between the time it was printed and the competition; and you will see our media specialist is holding an iPad so those at home could witness their top spinning (they had a designated spinner).  I even had one top design sent from a student in China.

While students may build this top in any way they wish; and a few used recycled Beyblade or CD/marble combinations, most of them have taken advantage of our school's 3D printer.  Our media specialist comes to my classroom and walks them through the basics of the software and one example.  Some of my students had sent a design for her to print within the day and then modified their design based on the results (truly engaging in design thinking).  

Now, to the point of this post.  My physics students have been participating in this project for four years now.  I have, as of this date, still not 3D printed anything.  I haven't yet learned how.  I'm sure I will some day, but this project takes place at a time of year when I am writing exams and meeting a yearbook deadline, so I just never have.  My kids are developing a skill that I do not currently possess.

There was a time when a high school student was limited to the knowledge and skills of their teacher and the knowledge in library books.  This is no longer the case.  My students have the ability to explore any interest they want any time of the day or night.  They can learn skills that I do not possess.  In this case, I brought in a person with knowledge of 3D printing to help them learn, but with more time, they could have learned it on youtube.  They don't have to be limited by me.

Regular readers of this blog will know that I am by no means advocating for the teacher as facilitator model of education.  I have fought too long and too hard to develop my professional judgment to abdicate it to the "guide on the side" fad of education.  I want students to know that there is an expert in the room because it makes them feel safe and protected in their education (and when you teach chemistry, letting them learn whatever they want through inquiry is physically dangerous).  I also have no fear of letting them see me looking things up when I don't have an answer to their question.  I have more ability to quickly interpret the answers I find than they do and to judge the credibility of the source, but I want them to see me model that process.  

As with most things in life, this is an issue of balance.  Teachers should carefully plan their lessons based on standards in the curriculum and their own professional judgment about what matters most when time is limited.  We should constantly read in our content area to stay current and study brain research and best practices in education.  We also shouldn't be afraid to assign something to our students that we don't know how to do.  We can provide resources for them to learn from without it coming from our own brains without it undermining our expertise in other areas.  Sometimes, it will be messy and time-consuming, but don't fear the mess because students also learn from watching us clean up the mess.  

You Don't Know Yet

When I was in college, all I wanted out of life was to teach physics.  My degree plan involved a lot of biology, chemistry, and even earth science.  I didn't want to take these classes because I just wanted to teach physics.  Many professors and advisors told me that there were no jobs in which I would spend my entire day teaching physics and that I would need other qualifications to be marketable.  I was, of course, compliant, but I didn't truly believe them.  I really thought I did not need these other courses.  People who knew what they were talking about were sharing wisdom, but my 19-year-old self thought I knew better.  I was, of course, incorrect.  I didn't know what I needed to know yet.

A few years ago, a student came to me to complain about a teacher.  In the midst of the conversation, he said, "He asks questions on his tests that aren't important."  My response was, "I'm sorry, but you aren't qualified to know that."  He looked at me like I had stepped out of a UFO.  He couldn't imagine that he didn't have the perspective he needed to make that kind of judgment.  The man he was talking about had been teaching for over a decade and knew exactly what he needed to teach freshmen to prepare them for the next level of learning.  The freshman was incorrect, not because he wasn't smart, but because he didn't know what he needed to know yet.

Every day, people on social media express very strong and uninformed opinions on everything from virology to politics to nutrition.  People with actual knowledge make vain attempts to educate, but social media makes 7th-graders of us all; so those posts are met with the idea that one person's ignorance is equal to another person's knowledge.  They do not know what they need to know; and, apparently, they don't want to know.

We have all had experiences like the ones described above.  I now look back on my anatomy class as one of the most valuable classes I've ever taken.  The first job I had after college was teaching the very earth science class I had looked down on just two years earlier.  Yet, we walk around all day believing that we have a full view of things when we do not yet know what we need to know.  

Allow the experiences in which you have had clearer hindsight to give you humility - to recognize that you may need to reach out to an expert to find out the information you need - to be open to changing your mind when new information becomes available - to recognize that what seems useless now may turn out to valuable later.  

Teachers, share experiences with your students so they can see that limited perspective leads to poor judgment.  Teach them to seek expert advice, and show them how to judge the difference between credible information and the first result on Google.  Teach them to listen to those whose experience is different from their own.  Help them recognize that they don't know what they don't know and that doesn't mean they are stupid.  Rather it means they are uninformed and can become informed with a little humility.