"When Schools Don't Educate"

I am linking to a speech written by a man who received the Teacher of the Year award consecutive years from New York City and state.  His speech is entitled "When Schools Don't Educate."
http://www.naturalchild.org/guest/john_gatto.html

I encourage all who care to think, who care about children, who care about people and society in general to read it.  After reading it and also listening a while to a youtube video in which he was interviewed I have been reflecting on my own experience with the education system.  I think of how I went straight from high school to a four year liberal arts college because I thought that was the way you just did it.  I thought of how I was always a pretty good student -- A's and B's and never really struggled within the system except for my youngest years.  I thought of how I never really felt free to explore my own interests and passions until after college (even though my private college experience was better than my public school K-12 experience).  I thought of how even now I am discovering my aptitude at drawing and painting because I am doing it by my own free will and not being constricted by some set of rules.  I don't think that structure is bad but I do think the kind of superficial structure that schools often are forced to use for their students is silly.  Montessori itself is intensely structured but that structure has purpose for dignified development of each individual not just to "make runs smoothly" in an artificial sense.

I welcome anyone's thoughts on John Taylor Gatto's speech, Montessori education, public education and also education/learning in general.  I want to have a discussion about this salient issue.

Education Reform

"Often I think traditional education is designed to meet the adult's needs and not the children's needs." -Kelsey Maddox, a great friend

I just wanted to put this approximate quote that I pulled from my friend because I think it is so true.  I work in a traditional school setting and it disgusts me how little is actually done in thinking of the children's needs. There is a lot of lip service given to the idea of helping children "achieve their full potential" but it's compromised because of the inherently flawed systems and lack of vision regarding education in a holistic way (mind, body and spirit).  In other words, I think it's bullshit.  I wouldn't use that word unless I actually meant it and I mean it.

Although I am obviously very critical of these traditional education systems (which honestly end up being heaped high with bureaucracy), I also have an alternative in mind; Montessori education.

I am not unaware of the sin nature that all insufficiency stems from (even in the best circumstances) yet I see Montessori as something that optimizes a person's development and I believe it should replace the traditional education system.

Here's a short video why:

http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/building-the-pink-tower

Sometime's being someone's friend...

is like capturing fireflies in a jar.

Difficult, worth it, but not something you can force - it takes a little serendipity and yields wonder when it happens.

Where-ever I am (Smacking myself in the Face with Reality)

       I am sitting here in the Hy-Vee dining area in Mankato drinking my $1.75 coffee from the Starbuck's kiosk that I paid.16 cent for (because I used a gift card).  I know, not very romantic...not very typical to describe the mundane like this for me but I had a thought just a little while ago as I was here.  I looked outside to the horizon (here's the romantic in me again) and I thought, "looks like a suburb...wish I was in Minneapolis."  Then I thought..."the better half of my time I am wishing I was somewhere else...this is not healthy."  It just smacked me in the face that I need to just realize that I am here in Mankato -- for better or worse.  I don't love it here but I don't hate it.  I have found some things that I appreciate though to help me -- going on walks and hikes or bike rides for one.  There is a good church here with some pretty solid teaching, worship and friendly enough people.  There is a women's craft collective with an emphasis on crossing cultures with women who have immigrated here with refugee status and women who have lived in the States their whole lives.  I, at least, get to work with children and even do music with them.  I actually have quite a few things to be thankful about.  I also am with my Love, the man I married and even though it's not all rainbows and tulips and sunshine all the time, we love each other and still know how to have fun.  I am glad he is here to do the thing he feels called to do - physics - and I am proud of that.
        The truth is that the Holy Spirit can use me wherever I am and I just need to be willing.  I need to be willing to take the mundane and make it holy.  That stereotypical suburban looking mom in the Starbucks line, maybe she needs encouragement?  I mean, I guess I'm just telling myself I need to realize that just because I'm not doing the thing I *love* and feel "fits" me doesn't mean that God can't use me.  I need to get over myself and my snobbery and ask God what he wants me to do right now.  It may be actually talking to someone who I have some preconceived notion about and not judging them.  It may be seeing the good things in my life instead of focusing on what I don't have.  It may very well be all that and more.

A Murder of Crows

           I witnessed a murder of crows.

          No, not the kind where crows are mercilessly munched on by a pterodactyl (wouldn't that be something?!) but the kind where crows glide around the sky and call to each other in their distinctive caw. Momentarily they may stop to rest on a wisp of a tree branch and then take up flight again.

         I am not sure what they were talking about (although it could have been bloody and sundered wing of some bird laying much lower in the valley below)  but watching them made me pause.  They were, although merely crows,  majestic as they soared circling the treetops. I breathed out in wonder, "What did we forfeit?"  Something so beautiful that I saw has been lost in our good intentions for "civilization."  Understand that while I know that the natural world is not redeemed any more (or any less) than humanity it appears to be something not so shrouded by evil. 

        As I stood there watching, 1 Corinthians 1:27-28 came to mind: "But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are."

        Humanity has the pride that does not seem to accompany the "lesser" creation.  We, although the God proclaimed pinnacle of creation, also seem to have fallen the farthest from where we were originally intended to be.  We think of ourselves as "wise" and, in truth, are really foolish.

       I can only wonder, what will we be like when we are restored?  How much more transforming will nature be when it is remade?

       

The Outside brings you Inside

Today I went on a walk.  Most days I go on a walk it’s a good idea.  This was no exception.  I walked up the hill, jumped in a few scattered puddles, and then tread down the other side.  Strangely, I had not been this way before. I cantered nearly the bottom where it begins to taper off and become flatter and then I somehow knew that I would take a right because something was around the corner.  So I walked on, and lo and behold, there was a small grove of willow trees.

I have a fondness for willow trees born out of childhood.  It probably began when I was a little girl and my family would take an occasional stroll down by the Minnehaha Parkway.  My parents were no arborists but there were a few willow trees and I think I asked what they were and found out their name.  I was drawn to them because of their resemblance to some prehistoric tree as well because at the time “The Land Before Time” was my favorite movie.  I loved that I knew what they were called.  Who can’t identify a willow tree after they have been shown one? 

Anyhow, back in Mankato, fast forward 20 some years; I climbed down a little hill to get under the grove of willow trees and waded through the water standing there from today’s rainfall.  It was a little swampy but I didn’t mind.  I had set out to go “puddle jumping” anyway.  I was mesmerized by the cool beauty of the place enveloped by a lacey fringe of willow branches.  I saw that the trees were just about the right height for climbing and so in about three minutes I was up on the bow of the tree as if it were a ship.  My rain boots slipped a little but I held steady.  As I looked around I felt my thoughts coalescing, shifting, forming and my spirit was held by the Spirit of God.  I realized that I could just sit there and be.  I could just be in that little world.   Even though the highway was not far away and a house backed up to this grove, somehow I felt sheltered and I could worship.  Yes, I am a tree hugger (and a God lover).  The Creation has marveled me since I was young. The strength and stability of trees is something so lovely.  I am grateful for clarity found in nature.  I am grateful to God for trees and the Outside that brings me Inside.

Ode to Joi

I've been grieving the death of my dear friend Joi O'Dell lately.  I don't mean to say that I wasn't grieving before but some things in my life have helped me to actively grieve her death.  It's been nearly two months since I received the jarring news and the inconceivable is beginning to feel more permanent.  Here is some of what I wrote about this:

From today, September 4:

I was given a gift of wanting to live life even when things aren't all that great.  I was given a gift of a will to live and sometimes even relish living because indeed my circumstances are delightful.  I was given a lot that isn't mine to deserve or take credit for.  I am blessed and now I am aware of it.

From September 2:

Ode to Joi

Why did you go, Joi?
No one wanted you to leave.
We all thought you were the bee's knees.  Sweet as honey, sharp as a stinger.
You were a bright light in the darkness even if that darkness overshadowed you at times.

The other night you were in my dream and I knew that it didn't make sense.  I think I asked you, "But how can you be here, aren't you dead?"  You replied (or somehow I knew), "It's okay, it's different in a dream."
So you were there and it was confusing.
But then...your suicide didn't make any sense and yet it was there (as another friend reminded me).

We know and we say; you are with the Lord.
Maybe you felt a little like Paul, torn as your mortal body fought against your spiritual one.
"For indeed, in this house we groan, longing to be clothed with our dwelling from heaven, inasmuch as we, having put it on, will not be found naked."
We never thought you naked.  True, your vulnerability was difficult for me sometimes.  I never could understand the depth of sadness I saw you carry.  I didn't see how you carried it so far and so long.
Yet, you had a kind of awesomeness in your vulnerability.  It's what made you love people.  It's what made others love you.
You were giving me courage to speak out my weakness and not be ashamed. You were giving me courage to honor and give to others beyond what I thought I could.  That courage you carried and gave to others; that is a rare, fragile gift.

I will never understand why you left.

If you were here now we would probably be talking now, you and me, about life and how hard some things are and yet also about the hope for the world and a vision to see things made new.  You were not perfect, but you were a saint and you had such a heart for the world.  Later, to ease things you would probably joke and make some berserkly geeky reference and laugh your lovable, quirky laugh -- snort and all.  I miss that laugh.  Then we would craft a plan to do something absolutely gleeful and probably bless others at the same time.  You were that lady.  Even when you were not doing well and could not muster it you still gave so much (and were so much) and you were (and are) a lady so beloved.  I wish you had known it deep in your bones.

I am just hoping that I can remember that you are one of many treasures (as you showed me in welcoming so many yourself).  One sweet day I'll meet you again and see you fully for who you really are and were always meant to be.  Joi: renewed: Rejoice.  We will be able to say it again and again and mean it.

And it won't be a dream; and it will make more sense than anything else ever has.