Floating Upstream: december nuggets: love is a muscle

I have just a few thoughts tonight, and not many more photos, which is a good thing as I try to resume the weekly habit of blogging.

tide-pooling at Pescadero State Beach

An article I read recently about "inquiry-based teaching"--one of the many new buzz phrases in educational circles--argues for the importance of "teacher personality" in the classroom of the future. Two facets of the argument struck me: 1) that, despite all the talk about how technology will change education for the better, there is still a strong recognition that the human being is central to a vibrant classroom; 2) that, fundamentally, definition of good teaching = definition of good parenting (at least for some of us).

This: "It’s no longer about telling; it’s about listening, observing, and creating the channel of trust that opens up a personal connection between two individuals."
Or this: " . . . compelling evidence from the fields of adolescent development and resiliency studies shows that caring relationships are the key factor in helping young people flourish. . . If an inquiry-based system is to succeed, we’ll need human beings in the classroom who know their field, but who also radiate the kind of positive, non-judgmental love that helps students open their minds and hearts."

Alongside ruminations about what makes a good teacher, which now daily translate for me into experiments in the classroom to engage students who seem disengaged or to let discussions happen that I have not necessarily scripted in advance, I also think constantly about how to become a better parent. I don't beat myself up too much, but I question my knee-jerk reactions to "misbehavior," my assumptions about what makes "good" children, and my tendency to speak without filtering my words for anyone who is sensitive to ~~sarcasm bluntness honesty~~ ?.

Laura Markham, whose name I have now mentioned several times, makes the counter-intuitive point that unconditional love requires practice and that, while we know that we feel love for our kids, they are not always able to sense it from our actions. Therefore, how we act matters more than how we feel, and we can practice acting out love just as we practice any other skill. Thinking of love as a muscle in need of exercise is not necessarily what they taught in grad school.

The curious thing--the reason I saved the article about good teaching above--is that many days I find that practicing mindfulness (that much-maligned word) as a parent deepens my connection to my students, and vice versa. Having daily contact with teenagers--whose souls often expand visibly before my very eyes (if in doubt, try teaching Ethan Frome to a group of sixteen-year olds)--reminds me that my children at home will some day become budding and then full-fledged adults; on the other hand, learning how to relate with empathy to my own kids at home often softens my interactions with the teenagers and allows me to view them as the growing children that they are. It's all a web, really, and I ~~gasp~~ marvel at my responsibilities.

:::
So much for the serious matters in life.
Stuff They Say

Raya (re: a baby and a little cow in her wicker basket): I am a special mommy. I give milk to babies and cows!

afternoons with mommy; we'll often spend two hours straight snuggled in bed, reading

We bought a Christmas tree this weekend. Sava refused to go out, as it was too cold and he wanted some time alone at home. So, Raya got choosing rights, and she picked a small tree that is exactly Sava's height. Everyone is happy. When we brought it home, the kids never even mentioned the box of decorations that they know we have; instead, both of them got busy making their own ornaments, and the result can be seen below. Sava attempted a star for the top that ended up looking like someone's crown; he also tried cutting out a snowflake (center), and when it didn't pan out, he remarked in genuine amazement:
Mommy, look what I made! It's supposed to be a star, but it turned out like this Christian thing...
Hence, we now have a cross on the tree. Also, the L to the left of the cross-snowflake is for "Love." There might be hay in the garage when we wake up on Christmas morning.

For her part, Raya spent a good hour drawing various curiously skinny versions of Santa Claus and "Mrs. Claus." I love that they both look like they are wearing high heels.

Also, it is important to "have fun" when doing Christmas.

When I came back from Zumba last night, I expected to find Sava asleep; instead, he was tossing and turning in bed, waiting to tell me, exact quote: Mommy, could you take a picture of my socks because tati says I need to throw them away and they are my favorite? Here, my love, are your socks eternalized. They had big holes on the bottom that made them unwearable.