There are more than a few books on Buddhism written specifically for teens. In fact, many of my favorite writers have tackled the problem of bringing, not only the basics of Buddhism to the younger set, but also, the classics. However, there is rarely a copy of these texts in any classroom where I have been employed.
Imagine my surprise when, last week, as I was assigned to be in class with Mr. Dandelion (an alias I hope won't offend...), I happened to spy, by the Teachers' Computer, a copy of BUDDHA IN YOUR BACKPACK...! Mr. Dandelion is an able-bodied (and much harried) student- teacher, attempting to get his credential in different states, simultaneously. This means, beyond doing student-teacher hours in different counties, he also must travel New England winter roads for several hours each day. He is already stressed out by the time he arrives at school.
Today, his "official master teacher" was out, sick. (Our school district doesn't leave student teachers alone in the classroom to teach...ahem...) Today, I am to be his "official master teacher"--a silent ghost, observing--a "muscle", if it comes to that-- an emissary to the masses (as well as to the Office)--and general "Presence in the Classroom". This is an assignment I hate--though I like Mr. Dandelion very much.
Mr. Dandelion planned on showing a video about Muslims in America. He was more excited about the video than the students. My role was to simply stay at the Teacher's Desk while he worked the social studies classes. Mr. Dandelion is quite animated (and very young)--bobbing,weaving, making "adjustments" to students' behavior on the fly. His voice can go several octaves deeper (as well as higher) and several decibels louder than mine. Though every period is packed with kids, I knew that my job that day would be merely moral support. Mr. Dandelion has this.
The video was well done. It followed contemporary Muslims, in the mid-West, as they went about their everyday American lives. It also challenged a white, thirty-something, American married man, to spend a month with a Muslim family, learning what he could learn, about their culture and religion. The first time I viewed it, I was impressed. However, the students were not.
Mr. Dandelion had assumed that the students would enjoy a video, rather than a lecture. But these are Middle School, emotionally jacked-up, early adolescents. All they worry about or think about or care about is themselves--and the ratings of their peers. On-screen or not, even the Muslim kids in class were more interested in the fact that lights were off and Mr. Dandelion (and Ms. Minns) could only see so much ...
By the third screening, not only had I gotten what I could from the documentary, I was growing more and more alarmed at the lack of interest from our students. I was alarmed that, when pointed out to them, in various ways, by Mr. Dandelion, it didn't seem to matter. Discussion both before and after the video ran something like this:
Mr. D.: What do you know about contemporary Muslim culture or religion?
Student: Nothing.
Mr. D.: What do you remember about all of our discussions and lessons, last week?
Student: Nothing, Man.
Class, in unison: This is so boring.
Student: This is boring...
Class: When's lunch?!
Student: Do we have to write about this? I shouldn't have to write about a movie...
Granted, Mr. D. is a student teacher. His last assignment was at a (much younger) primary school. Middle Schoolers can be fiercely judgmental and harsh with anyone in authority. (I know!) Getting a laugh--or a groan--from other students-- is as valuable as gold. I also know we could have been screening the newest "Avengers" film and they would have talked through it, complaining about possible writing assignments at the end. This wasn't about a lesson plan on Muslims, nor about Mr. Dandelion's management or teaching styles.
(Maybe I'm getting jaded or maybe we really do have a problem in American schools. Whereas kids across the world are dying just for the right to attend a secure classroom, our kids, here, in a clean, safe, well-supplied environment, are complaining because school doesn't allow them to "do anything we want when we want".) School actually requires them to begin to sort-out their lives; to begin to think for themselves (and not as part of a pack...); to handle tasks which seem boring or "hard" or aren't entertaining. Though part of this ennui is also developmental and will pass as they mature, I've seen this attitude keep real scholars back. Even kids along the middle continuum of achievement are adversely impacted by too-slack administrations who insist, at all costs, that teachers simply "talk nicely" and "deal" with troubled students who often hijack any real learning.
We want to support different learning styles--but we don't want to freeze out the majority of kids who can't learn to concentrate when a classroom is in chaos from two or three loud-mouths. If those disruptive kids can have back-up plans that are supported--i.e. para professionals in the room to assist the main teacher --or a quiet room where they can be taken to, to calm down or do their own work away from the class who also needs quiet to learn concentration and stamina--or support from Administrators who immediately support a teacher who sends a disruptive student out of a classroom and doesn't have to spend three-quarters of the class period "fencing, verbally", with the out of control student--oy vay! These primary issues de-rail classes all around the country and seem to de-rail the real education goals everyone agrees upon! Why? Why is America so self-conscious and so self-absorbed by "image" that what is really important gets shunted aside?
Stamina, love of learning for learning's sake, overcoming boredom, concentration, good effort, even kindness for one's peers--aren't these things being modeled, anymore? At home? In the culture? The media? School cannot, without support, do what no one else in the society seems willing to do--to take on the responsibility of truly teaching ourselves mindfulness. Mindfulness as a national agenda!
Whoa! What a concept!
(Meanwhile, I catch myself beginning to sound like MY teachers...brrrrrr. )
The fourth set of students meander inside, and Mr. Dandelion begins to introduce the video...lights down...whispering UP...I want to scream! I even hate people who talk through commercial movies--let alone kids who talk right through school films!
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I notice a copy of BUDDHA IN YOUR BACKPACK: EVERYDAY BUDDHISM FOR TEENS. (Written in 2002 by Franz Metcalf and Monk Song Yonk, I've seen this text in bookstores but never read it.) I discretely open the copy on my lap, as the video floods the classroom with blue light...My body is facing the overhead screen. I am in the darkest corner of the classroom. No one can see that I'm actually reading a book and not watching this documentary for the fifth time...
Instantly, I am reminded Who These Kids Are...
I am reminded Who I Am and am supposed to be...
I am reminded we are all acts in progress...in the act of Awakening...in the act of Becoming...in the act of disappearing (too).
My heart calms.
My heart opens--to the Muslims struggling with their own lives in a country wracked by fear--always afraid.
My heart opens --to Mr. Dandelion, as he struggles with a career he has dedicated his young life to--not getting the instantaneous respect and adoration he received from his younger students--Mr. Dandelion having to re-create himself on the fly, all "props" knocked out from beneath him--having to employ "Beginner's Mind" without knowing what "Beginner's Mind" entails in this moment.
My heart opens--to being forced to "observe"--when I want to jump in and react; to be silent--when I want to commandeer the classroom; at the very least--entertaining the troops and "saving the lesson".
My MIND remembers--we are all here to learn: every day; in every way; we are all Teachers; we are ALL students, struggling in the moment, together.
(To discover that book, placed there, found, in that darkened day; to be given the "open" minutes, to be reminded: ahh!)
Miracle!
Suddenly, a call comes in from the Office:"Ms. Minns--you are needed to cover Educational Support--please report to Room---"
(Released!)
Must leave the book outside my backpack, for the next Teacher to stumble upon.
(I can take Buddha with me, of course: inside.)
Mr. Dandelion mouths a silent "good-bye".
Several students also wave, respectfully.
I close the door behind me, re-entering The World.
Imagine my surprise when, last week, as I was assigned to be in class with Mr. Dandelion (an alias I hope won't offend...), I happened to spy, by the Teachers' Computer, a copy of BUDDHA IN YOUR BACKPACK...! Mr. Dandelion is an able-bodied (and much harried) student- teacher, attempting to get his credential in different states, simultaneously. This means, beyond doing student-teacher hours in different counties, he also must travel New England winter roads for several hours each day. He is already stressed out by the time he arrives at school.
Today, his "official master teacher" was out, sick. (Our school district doesn't leave student teachers alone in the classroom to teach...ahem...) Today, I am to be his "official master teacher"--a silent ghost, observing--a "muscle", if it comes to that-- an emissary to the masses (as well as to the Office)--and general "Presence in the Classroom". This is an assignment I hate--though I like Mr. Dandelion very much.
Mr. Dandelion planned on showing a video about Muslims in America. He was more excited about the video than the students. My role was to simply stay at the Teacher's Desk while he worked the social studies classes. Mr. Dandelion is quite animated (and very young)--bobbing,weaving, making "adjustments" to students' behavior on the fly. His voice can go several octaves deeper (as well as higher) and several decibels louder than mine. Though every period is packed with kids, I knew that my job that day would be merely moral support. Mr. Dandelion has this.
The video was well done. It followed contemporary Muslims, in the mid-West, as they went about their everyday American lives. It also challenged a white, thirty-something, American married man, to spend a month with a Muslim family, learning what he could learn, about their culture and religion. The first time I viewed it, I was impressed. However, the students were not.
Mr. Dandelion had assumed that the students would enjoy a video, rather than a lecture. But these are Middle School, emotionally jacked-up, early adolescents. All they worry about or think about or care about is themselves--and the ratings of their peers. On-screen or not, even the Muslim kids in class were more interested in the fact that lights were off and Mr. Dandelion (and Ms. Minns) could only see so much ...
By the third screening, not only had I gotten what I could from the documentary, I was growing more and more alarmed at the lack of interest from our students. I was alarmed that, when pointed out to them, in various ways, by Mr. Dandelion, it didn't seem to matter. Discussion both before and after the video ran something like this:
Mr. D.: What do you know about contemporary Muslim culture or religion?
Student: Nothing.
Mr. D.: What do you remember about all of our discussions and lessons, last week?
Student: Nothing, Man.
Class, in unison: This is so boring.
Student: This is boring...
Class: When's lunch?!
Student: Do we have to write about this? I shouldn't have to write about a movie...
Granted, Mr. D. is a student teacher. His last assignment was at a (much younger) primary school. Middle Schoolers can be fiercely judgmental and harsh with anyone in authority. (I know!) Getting a laugh--or a groan--from other students-- is as valuable as gold. I also know we could have been screening the newest "Avengers" film and they would have talked through it, complaining about possible writing assignments at the end. This wasn't about a lesson plan on Muslims, nor about Mr. Dandelion's management or teaching styles.
(Maybe I'm getting jaded or maybe we really do have a problem in American schools. Whereas kids across the world are dying just for the right to attend a secure classroom, our kids, here, in a clean, safe, well-supplied environment, are complaining because school doesn't allow them to "do anything we want when we want".) School actually requires them to begin to sort-out their lives; to begin to think for themselves (and not as part of a pack...); to handle tasks which seem boring or "hard" or aren't entertaining. Though part of this ennui is also developmental and will pass as they mature, I've seen this attitude keep real scholars back. Even kids along the middle continuum of achievement are adversely impacted by too-slack administrations who insist, at all costs, that teachers simply "talk nicely" and "deal" with troubled students who often hijack any real learning.
We want to support different learning styles--but we don't want to freeze out the majority of kids who can't learn to concentrate when a classroom is in chaos from two or three loud-mouths. If those disruptive kids can have back-up plans that are supported--i.e. para professionals in the room to assist the main teacher --or a quiet room where they can be taken to, to calm down or do their own work away from the class who also needs quiet to learn concentration and stamina--or support from Administrators who immediately support a teacher who sends a disruptive student out of a classroom and doesn't have to spend three-quarters of the class period "fencing, verbally", with the out of control student--oy vay! These primary issues de-rail classes all around the country and seem to de-rail the real education goals everyone agrees upon! Why? Why is America so self-conscious and so self-absorbed by "image" that what is really important gets shunted aside?
Stamina, love of learning for learning's sake, overcoming boredom, concentration, good effort, even kindness for one's peers--aren't these things being modeled, anymore? At home? In the culture? The media? School cannot, without support, do what no one else in the society seems willing to do--to take on the responsibility of truly teaching ourselves mindfulness. Mindfulness as a national agenda!
Whoa! What a concept!
(Meanwhile, I catch myself beginning to sound like MY teachers...brrrrrr. )
The fourth set of students meander inside, and Mr. Dandelion begins to introduce the video...lights down...whispering UP...I want to scream! I even hate people who talk through commercial movies--let alone kids who talk right through school films!
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I notice a copy of BUDDHA IN YOUR BACKPACK: EVERYDAY BUDDHISM FOR TEENS. (Written in 2002 by Franz Metcalf and Monk Song Yonk, I've seen this text in bookstores but never read it.) I discretely open the copy on my lap, as the video floods the classroom with blue light...My body is facing the overhead screen. I am in the darkest corner of the classroom. No one can see that I'm actually reading a book and not watching this documentary for the fifth time...
Instantly, I am reminded Who These Kids Are...
I am reminded Who I Am and am supposed to be...
I am reminded we are all acts in progress...in the act of Awakening...in the act of Becoming...in the act of disappearing (too).
My heart calms.
My heart opens--to the Muslims struggling with their own lives in a country wracked by fear--always afraid.
My heart opens --to Mr. Dandelion, as he struggles with a career he has dedicated his young life to--not getting the instantaneous respect and adoration he received from his younger students--Mr. Dandelion having to re-create himself on the fly, all "props" knocked out from beneath him--having to employ "Beginner's Mind" without knowing what "Beginner's Mind" entails in this moment.
My heart opens--to being forced to "observe"--when I want to jump in and react; to be silent--when I want to commandeer the classroom; at the very least--entertaining the troops and "saving the lesson".
My MIND remembers--we are all here to learn: every day; in every way; we are all Teachers; we are ALL students, struggling in the moment, together.
(To discover that book, placed there, found, in that darkened day; to be given the "open" minutes, to be reminded: ahh!)
Miracle!
Suddenly, a call comes in from the Office:"Ms. Minns--you are needed to cover Educational Support--please report to Room---"
(Released!)
Must leave the book outside my backpack, for the next Teacher to stumble upon.
(I can take Buddha with me, of course: inside.)
Mr. Dandelion mouths a silent "good-bye".
Several students also wave, respectfully.
I close the door behind me, re-entering The World.
No comments:
Post a Comment