What if every “comment” box on the Internet was changed to “reflect?”

What if every “comment” box on the Internet was changed to “reflect?”

I think a lot about setting intentions. The language we use should reflect our intentions. Often language is chosen for it’s simplicity, or ability to be broad, but isn’t it more important to use words that elicit the kinds of interactions we seek to have?

Along these lines I’m interested in the changes, if any, that would occur if every “comment” box was changed to “reflect.” Would you be more willing or less willing to share your ideas? Would you frame your opinions more gently, as a reflection is personal and makes one vulnerable? Would there be less arguing because the venue doesn’t allow for it, and more discussion and validation of ideas? Would people share more or less subjectively? More or less objectively? Would we see more productive conservations and less ranting? Would we, over time, engage with the Internet differently? Would we see these dialogue boxes as a place for constructive conversation? Would we use these forums to help us understand ourselves better in the context of humanity, of the world?

What if we talked to children the same way we talk to adults?

Parents often ask me for advice around their kids not wanting to do something the parents deem necessary. Examples include: getting dressed in the morning, eating healthy food, all routines. Parents often end up frustrated and come to me for ways to smooth out their communication. 

My advice is this: In these situations, don’t think of your child as a child. Imagine you are having this same conversation with an adult. 

With an adult you would talk to them at a calm time (not in a moment of conflict) and: 

1. Gently state the problem. (“I noticed that whenever we talk about Bobby we fight.”)

AND/OR

2. Validate their feelings (“I can see you’re having a really hard time.”)

3. Ask, “Why do you think that is?”

4. Ask, “What can I do to help?” 

 

Example Scenario- Morning Routines

Every morning is a hassle. Your child doesn’t want to get out bed, brush her teeth, get dressed, etc. You find yourself yelling and rushing and doing things for your child in order to get the whole family out of the house to school and work. 

Problem-Solving Communication: 

Parent: "I noticed that the mornings are hard for us. Why do you think that is?" (Then listen! Then validate your child’s emotions. “That feels tough.”

Parent: What can I do to help with your morning routine? (Then listen! Maybe try a suggestion the next day! Some ideas include: choosing clothes the night before, child having their own alarm clock, a list/pictures of the morning tasks that the child can refer to/check off to feel independent). 

 

The benefits of this kind of communication are endless, but here are a few of the most important ones: 

- You are teaching your child how to effectively solve problems

- You are showing your child how to communicate in a way where both parties share and value each other’s thoughts 

- You are validating your child’s emotions

- You are setting the stage for your child to gain independence and not feel dependent on you 

- You are building your child’s self-regulation skills so they can monitor themselves and reflect on their decisions

 

Communication is something that we as a society have forgotten how to do. We spend so much time writing emails, thinking of how to say something in as few characters as possible, that the art of listening and valuing another’s ideas has become almost irrelevant to our day-to-day lives. 

We need to compartmentalize different kinds of communication for different arenas of our lives. With people we are close to and any kind of face-to-face communication we need to remind ourselves to listen and value what others say and practice this until it becomes automatic again. 

The most effective teachers and parents I know are effective because the children feel valued, which causes them to trust the adult and know that when they are not given a choice or asked for their opinion/suggestion, that it’s OK, and they will trust and do what the adult says. Isn’t that how successful adult relationships work too?

What if students designed their own schools?

“When Sam Levin was a junior at Monument Mountain Regional High School in Great Barrington, Mass., he realized that two things were in short supply at his school: engagement and mastery. He also noticed that he and his peers were learning plenty of information, but not much about how to gather or create their own data. And he noticed that students were unhappy. So he took it upon himself to design a school where students would feel fully engaged, have an opportunity to develop expertise in something, and learn how to learn.” (source)

The program Sam designed, The Independent Project, debuted in 2010 and is still going today. Students applied, proving that they could manage their time well. The majority of the semester is structured into half-days. For half of each day, per week, students choose a question to investigate and then share with the group at the end of the week. The other half of the day is filled with a semester long individual project that could be learning a musical instrument, writing a book, etc. The last 3 weeks of the semester the students work collaboratively to create a project for social impact. The only requirements of the various projects are “effort, learning and mastery.” There are no grades; it is pass/fail. 

This student-guided experiential education is the key! Parents of students at Sam’s school were concerned about not having letter grades for the project, but colleges were excited to read about students who did something different. Not only that, the project helped students develop skills: they were more proactive, self-motivated, good with managing time, focused, collaborative, communicative, curious, and engaged. 

For me, one of the unexpected positive outcomes of this project is that it has shown the teachers what the students are capable of, and has encouraged teachers (of regular school subjects) to give ALL of their students more choice- what to read, which topic to study, how to present. And through this process the teachers are also discussing their own roles in student education. Holy reflection, Batman! The teachers are trusting the students to make decisions about their own learning! 

“Students who have gone through the program ask more questions and have a greater awareness of how to answer them; construct their questions more carefully; became more thoughtful in the way they consider ideas and evaluate sources; and became better at managing their time.” Win. 

Community in all Forms

In light of the Internet and the ability to ‘find’ your tribe, I have come across an ingenious peer network called Warm Showers. It’s CouchSurfing for cyclists. It’s a free place to stay with people who’ve done what you’re doing. It’s a worldwide network of people like me! I’ve had only incredible experiences staying with WS-folk. And now for some anecdotes:

The couple in their 60s whose kids have grown and left and encouraged them to host cyclists, as we are “kinder travelers” than the CouchSurfing crowd. Upon entering I was given a room, a towel for a warm shower, and told dinner would be ready in 30 minutes. The gentleman of the couple didn’t tell us until after dinner that he’s a retired 5-star Michelin chef. He made salad with fresh raspberry vinaigrette, and gluten free pasta with fresh veggies and a homemade tomato sauce. He apologized for whipping it up and not making a ‘real’ sauce. Ha! After dinner we looked through a stack of about 10 travel photo albums as without language (he only spoke French) we could communicate through image.

The bicycle-messenger who wanted us to stay forever and hang out and be his friend! He left us notes all over his apartment like, “Please stay another night! I’ll show you around town!”

The girlfriend of a bicycle-enthusiast (who was away at the time) who knew nothing of bicycles but was super happy to talk with us, cook for us, and send her neighbors to check up on us while she was away.

The couple in their 20s who met while on separate cycle tours through Romania. They lived in the attic of a converted brewery with amazing archway doors and ceiling cross-beams. The lady-cyclist made her own jam and sent us with cake for the road.

The couple in their 30s, living just outside the city, who’ve cycled the world. They became our friends. We hung out, made dinner, went out to dinner, and met them in the city. They are planning another adventure…

The couple in their 30s, living in a small city, who just came back from a 2.5 year cycle tour, were featured in their local newspaper, had very few belongings, paid $3/month to rent their apartment (because it could be sold at any moment and they’ll have to leave so that’s the deal. What a deal!) They just bought a house in the country, gutted it, and are rebuilding it to suit their needs, and bicycles. They get requests from Warm Showers everyday. They want to repay the community for the countless WS hosts they visited on their big trip and so they almost always have guests.

The retired racing cyclist with a house at the end of a road and a horse shed converted into a loft with extra beds and an external-facing kitchen. She had terraces of pineapples growing, a hot tub, some animals, and a kitchen she never used. She watched me make dinner for us with enthusiasm and constantly commenting on how impressed she was that I could just “whip up” a veggie-noodle stir-fry with many of her own ingredients!

The couple in their 30s living in the middle-of-nowhere France, in a gigantic house. They were excited to tell me about how cheaply they can live in this easy-to-host house, as they were able to stay connected to their friends and family who could crash with them any time for as long as they wanted. Every room of their house had at least one mattress on the floor and nothing else. They were prepared to host everyone they knew. They were also excited that in one year they would quit their jobs, buy touring bicycles, and travel the world together for as long as possible. I was their first Warm Showers guest and they made me pumpkin soup and sent me with snacks and route advice. They suggested I take a road that snaked down the side of the mountain they lived on, over a gushing river and luscious greenery. It turned out to be one of the most beautiful roads I’ve ever cycled.  (One year later: they’ve emailed me to say they quit their jobs and can I meet up with them somewhere on their journey!)

I’m humbled to be shown so much love from these people with whom I share a passion, a lifestyle, a sense of adventure, and a desire to learn from and about other cultures. They open their homes, give me the keys, tell me to eat anything, and are sometimes amazed at just how much I can eat! They understand my journey. They know what my needs are. We speak the same language. And the one thing we all agree on is that when cycling and staying with people, in their homes, you get to see a different side of the places you visit; you get to see the locals, the community, the traditions and customs. You get to really see how they live. And in all cases, you are humbled.

It’s amazing to connect and feel so connected because of this simple thread that weaves us. What if there were communities like this for all different hobbies and you could stay with people based solely on shared interests? Like CouchSurfing with a bit of Pinterest thrown in… Just thinking out loud here but there could be ways to connect with people traveling to a concert with people from that city who are also going. Or when there are conventions you could stay with people who have that interest in the host city: knitters, artists, scientists, foodies… it’s endless.

This could be the future: not networking, but finding your network.

What if all students had a digital portfolio that recorded their learning experiences?

I am supremely interested in how we present ourselves to the world, how we categorize our experiences, how we value what we’ve learned, how we see ourselves over time.

I grew up being a great test-taker and therefore always being at the top of my class. I had friends, much smarter than me, who froze during tests or did poorly one time and were plagued forever by those numbers that dictated much of their future, not to mention self-worth.

As I developed into a teacher I noticed more and more the value in documenting my students learning experiences. I began making an annual class website that I updated weekly to show off the multitude of learning that was happening in each of my students: photos of their art, writing, and creations, photos of their interactions with each other and nature, videos of creations in action, readings of stories they wrote, poems and songs we collaborated on together as a class, and invitations to events where we could celebrate the students’ learning in person.

Parents thanked me for giving them a glimpse of the variety of learning activities happening throughout their child’s day. They congratulated me for celebrating more of what their children had to offer than purely academic-lensed accomplishments. The students shared with me their reflections upon viewing their experiences - hearing how their reading had changed over time, seeing how their drawing skills developed, celebrating that math problem they solved as a team and remembering the poster they made that explained how they solved the problem differently from everyone else.

I found these students to be more celebratory of each other’s strengths and accomplishments, and less focused on who was better at x or y. There is always something to celebrate about everyone. My class website validated all kinds of learners and learning.

This got me thinking. It’s great to share these learning experiences on a cozy little class website, but what if every student had their own digital portfolio that captured their learning experiences as a way to reflect - to see patterns and sparks, to document other kinds of learning, to celebrate learning both in and out of school?  

Imagine your family moves and your child begins attending a new school: think about the implications for your child’s transition if the teacher could see what kind of kid they are, the kinds of friends they seek out, what kinds of things they are interested in learning.

Imagine you’re a teacher and it’s August and you’ve just received your class list: think about the implications for you as a teacher to see your class as a set, find commonalities among experiences and interests, help you brainstorm activities and lessons that will be interesting and meaningful to this new set of students.

Imagine you are applying for a job or internship: think about looking over your portfolio, choosing a few experiences that highlight who you are and why you’d be a great fit, and then sharing them as your application.

Imagine you are applying for colleges: think about what you would share of yourself, to complement your transcript (that’s filled with one-time-measurements), to give the college a better understanding of who you are and what you bring of yourself.

Imagine you are a parent: think about all you know of what makes your child great and how it would feel to have a record of this that your child could use to validate his/her experiences instead of relying solely on test scores.

Imagine you are an after-school facilitator of music, arts, sports: think about the value of being able to add this to an on-going record of who these children are, another facet of their life that while you find valuable, rarely makes it to “permanent records.”

Imagine you are a student: think about all you’ve added to this record, this digital portfolio, over the last 10 years. Can you see how interests have developed into others? Can you see how you’ve grown as a learner? Can you see certain skills you keep coming back to? Can you spot a single experience that led you to develop a particular skill? Can you see passions that always find a way into your experiences? Does this reflection help you think about your life, your choices, and what’s next?


What if all students had a digital portfolio that recorded their learning experiences?

What if all learning experiences “counted?”

I am sitting in the lush forests on Kauai, Hawaii, after several days of hiking up to mountain ridges and walking along narrow pathways to glorious ocean vistas. On the hikes I am sharpening so many skills - balancing my weight, navigating though a variety of terrains (sometimes quite slippery), and making innumerable snap decisions regarding safety and exploration. I stop often to admire details of the flora and fauna - touching, smelling, and comparing. The moss is tremendous. I am constantly astounded by the variety and texture. The rocks, too, many which have bits of lava from different stages of volcanic eruption within them, are exceptional and though they look strong, easily crumble in my fingers.

I am learning about myself too - endurance, strength, preparedness with food and water, how to protect myself from the elements with minimal gear, and to remind myself to look up from the path and admire my surroundings. 

I knew from an early age that what I learned and sought outside of school was just as valuable, and sometimes more so, than what I was learning in school. In my senior year of high school I created a half-day internship for myself at an educational television show. It was there that I learned about public speaking, speaking professionally, how to develop relationships with co-workers, how to do specific and detailed research for on-air deadlines, how to produce a television show, how to splice tape and create pre-recorded segments, and the list goes on. 

In 1999 I began attending one of only a handful of co-op universities in the US, which offer programs that are half academic, half real-world work experience. When I began as a freshman at Northeastern University, I was most excited about the yearlong schedule: 6 months of classes split up into two, 3-month semesters, and then 6 months of working in the field of my major or one I might be interested in. Within these paid internships I was able to work in a variety of departments to understand each field. At a PR firm I did cold calls for our database, spent a few days with the bookkeeping team, sat in on meetings, shadowed an executive for a day, and learned the culture of the organization. At a pop-rock radio station I worked in several departments each for a week at a time: music, promotions, news, and the office. These experiences gave me the perspective of work-culture, what it means to be proactive, how to show you’ve learned something by applying it appropriately, and, maybe most importantly, how to sell myself. Tailoring a resume, writing a cover letter, and going on an interview were things I began to just know how to do, and they set me apart from other recent graduates. 

Emily Rapport, in her opinion piece for edSurge titled Why Course Credits Don’t Reflect What I Learn, explains as a current undergrad how the learning experiences she pursues outside of her classes are offering her more learning and skills that apply to her interests and passions than the learning and skills she is getting from her classes. More so she is pushing that these out-of-class learning experiences be credited, acknowledged, and appreciated by her university. These experiences are clearly what her future employers will value. 

She offers some solutions: 

1. “Introduce experiential learning frameworks into students’ first-year experiences.” Teach students to reflect on all of their learning experiences and value them as such. 

2. “Create courses that use students’ outside-the-classroom experiences as texts.” Classes that apply theory to required internships and community service projects. 

3. “Structure an undergraduate experience so that it moves from classroom to “real world,” with opportunities for student-driven capstones other than academic theses.” Allow students alternatives to a thesis to apply their skills before graduation and as their requirement for graduation. 

I am a huge fan of, not just talking but, taking action. It is one thing to privately value the variety of your life experiences, knowing you are using them and getting the most you can from them, and it takes those experiences to a whole new level to advocate for their legitimacy in the academic world. 

Maya Angelou said, “You are the sum total of everything you've ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot - it's all there.”

So what if all learning experiences “counted?” 

What if instead of just talking about Social Emotional Learning, we restructured all of the ways children learn to include adults who are trained in developing these skills?

Donna Housman, EdD, clinical psychologist and founder, CEO, and president of Beginnings School, the ONLY PRE-SCHOOL IN THE COUNTRY that has developed a comprehensive curriculum around self-regulation, self-awareness, social awareness, relationship skills, and responsible decision-making, discusses the reasons children need to learn these skills before they turn 4 years old as well as how their learning and social development are compromised without these skills.

It seems obvious; when you feel good about yourself and your relationships and can listen, process, and communicate your ideas, then you are open to more challenging tasks and learning. In other words, when children are not preoccupied or worried about their most basic emotional needs, they can flourish.


This is not new information. There is just more and more research pouring out of school-laboratories, graduate programs, psychological case studies, and comparisons of educational models worldwide. So why aren’t we changing what pre-school looks like in light of this information? Why aren’t we offering classes, workshops, and training to new parents around developing these skills in the first three years of a child’s life? Why aren’t nanny agencies picking up on this and offering trained SEL professionals to spend time with your young children? Why aren’t graduate schools offering Masters in Early Childhood Education focusing on Social Emotional Learning? With all of this research why is there only ONE PRE-SCHOOL IN THE COUNTRY implementing this curriculum?

Reverse culture shock & the power of positive thinking

I had said I didn’t want to return to New York. I had been overwhelmed by the feeling of being unable to escape consumerism at every turn. I wanted to live in the world of Gift Economy - trusting in humanity to provide for me and offering my services freely for the greater good.   I left India, where I had happily lived in a Gift Economy-bubble for more than a year. I had a backpack’s worth of possessions and people to share them with, not needing anything else. My service to the community was met with a hut to live in and three vegan meals a day. The community I was living in had broadened my view of and affirmed my belief that we need very little to survive and can live without doing further damage to the earth.   The community also humbled me with regard to the juxtaposition of how large the world is and yet how small it can feel. I met like-minded people from all over the world who, on most occasions, felt instantly like family. I am just one of many but I am connected to all. It is a powerful feeling to abandon fear and live as though the world is my backyard.   After doing my first bicycle tour I rediscovered my body, my physical strength, my desire for sweat-inducing adventure. And so I set out to cycle solo through Europe on my second bicycle tour. Cycling, I realized, forced me to be dependent on myself but also to admit that the world around me would support me. In this experiment of sorts I survived on, at most, 10 Euro per day. There were many days when I spent nothing. I slept in the homes of kind strangers who fed me and sent me with extra food for my journey.   I rode all morning and afternoon, feeling thankful for my connections to humanity and also thankful to feel fearless, knowing that I’d connect with the earth, with my body, and with other kind strangers along the way who would help me fulfill my needs. At farmer’s markets across the lands I was asked about my story, encouraged to keep going, not to lose my sense of trust in humanity or my bravery to travel alone, and I was rewarded for inspiring others with extra stuffed grape leaves, oranges to keep illness away, and an extra shot of espresso to keep moving and not feel the cold.   I lived on the road for almost 10 weeks in a society much older than my own, feeling the weight of age in the physicality of roads, villages, churches, and farms, trying to understand the history that came before me, the people who’ve passed on these same roads for different reasons, and the current economy of Western Europe, a rich entity not unlike the U.S., my home. I found it easy to live peacefully with nature and people and feel like my one-on-one human interactions were my added-value to open up minds and explore feelings of those who felt stuck, or unable to make change, or like they didn’t have choice. I was always supremely aware of my privileges: having saved some money over the years so I could make experiments like this, not being in debt, having people to support me if I fail, not having any dependents… freedom in so many ways.   I said I wouldn’t return to NY. I marveled at how well I felt mentally, physically, and emotionally being outside all day on my bicycle, feeling my body work to cover ground, breathing in fresh air, hours of quiet time, the sound of a rushing river, being among animals, and learning the stories of others as I shared my own. In this time I found a partner, from NY, who encouraged me to spend the holidays with him and to rediscover NY, give it another chance, see how jaded I really was, and find out if it was still my home.   My past life in NY was fast. I rushed from place to place, always needing more time in the day, never feeling finished, my to-do list always growing. I spent little money but nonetheless I paid for things that never occurred to me were optional. I ate on the subway, I crashed hard at night, I never felt like I had time for me, even though my work as an educator was enjoyable and enriching- it was everything but also felt like a sinking hole I’d never get out of.   After my time living in India, enveloped by nature, barefoot more often than not, living outside among trees and creatures, sheltered from consumerism, celebrating on a daily basis the contributions we can make to the earth through our life choices, and then cycling through rich lands where I chose to live simply and share my experiences, I have become calm. I am less reactive, more patient, waiting to take in all that is around me- the environment, the conversation, the big picture. I am not in a hurry. I am not impatient. I am not worried. Friends say I am more grounded.   And so I have rediscovered NY. I am not waiting, impersonally at crosswalks with other people in a rush; I am chatting with cyclists waiting for the light to change, secretly sharing joy in experiencing the city this other way. I am not in a high-rise apartment building, disassociated from people, feeling the city hum below me; I am living on the edges, with friends, in ethnically-diverse communities, artist-rich communities, feeling “neighborhood” more and more. I am not racing to teach my heart out until I collapse at the end of the day; I am reading and writing and meeting with other education reformists who see opportunities for change and are working with me, waiting for the right moment, to pounce.   I am different, but so is my relationship with NY. I remember being told many times by many people that you are who you are no matter where you are, that changing your environment will only change you temporarily; you are already formed. I disagree so much with these sentiments; your experiences form you throughout your life and they are dependent on  where  they happen,  who  they happen with, and how you  reflect  on them, incorporating the changes you like into the habits of who you are. And so, once again in my life, NY is home, even though I’m inside buildings, wearing shoes, and averting my gaze from the barrage of advertising that is capitalism.   I am grateful for my privilege, my choice, my adventures and experiences, the people I’ve crossed paths with and those I hold close, the times I cycled alone for hours being one with this planet, and feeling bold in the face of a plagued public education system while my brain fills with solutions for our children.   “Change your thoughts and you change your world.” Norman Vincent Peele said this. He was the godfather, of sorts, of the power of positive thinking. 

I had said I didn’t want to return to New York. I had been overwhelmed by the feeling of being unable to escape consumerism at every turn. I wanted to live in the world of Gift Economy - trusting in humanity to provide for me and offering my services freely for the greater good.

I left India, where I had happily lived in a Gift Economy-bubble for more than a year. I had a backpack’s worth of possessions and people to share them with, not needing anything else. My service to the community was met with a hut to live in and three vegan meals a day. The community I was living in had broadened my view of and affirmed my belief that we need very little to survive and can live without doing further damage to the earth. 

The community also humbled me with regard to the juxtaposition of how large the world is and yet how small it can feel. I met like-minded people from all over the world who, on most occasions, felt instantly like family. I am just one of many but I am connected to all. It is a powerful feeling to abandon fear and live as though the world is my backyard.

After doing my first bicycle tour I rediscovered my body, my physical strength, my desire for sweat-inducing adventure. And so I set out to cycle solo through Europe on my second bicycle tour. Cycling, I realized, forced me to be dependent on myself but also to admit that the world around me would support me. In this experiment of sorts I survived on, at most, 10 Euro per day. There were many days when I spent nothing. I slept in the homes of kind strangers who fed me and sent me with extra food for my journey. 

I rode all morning and afternoon, feeling thankful for my connections to humanity and also thankful to feel fearless, knowing that I’d connect with the earth, with my body, and with other kind strangers along the way who would help me fulfill my needs. At farmer’s markets across the lands I was asked about my story, encouraged to keep going, not to lose my sense of trust in humanity or my bravery to travel alone, and I was rewarded for inspiring others with extra stuffed grape leaves, oranges to keep illness away, and an extra shot of espresso to keep moving and not feel the cold.

I lived on the road for almost 10 weeks in a society much older than my own, feeling the weight of age in the physicality of roads, villages, churches, and farms, trying to understand the history that came before me, the people who’ve passed on these same roads for different reasons, and the current economy of Western Europe, a rich entity not unlike the U.S., my home. I found it easy to live peacefully with nature and people and feel like my one-on-one human interactions were my added-value to open up minds and explore feelings of those who felt stuck, or unable to make change, or like they didn’t have choice. I was always supremely aware of my privileges: having saved some money over the years so I could make experiments like this, not being in debt, having people to support me if I fail, not having any dependents… freedom in so many ways.

I said I wouldn’t return to NY. I marveled at how well I felt mentally, physically, and emotionally being outside all day on my bicycle, feeling my body work to cover ground, breathing in fresh air, hours of quiet time, the sound of a rushing river, being among animals, and learning the stories of others as I shared my own. In this time I found a partner, from NY, who encouraged me to spend the holidays with him and to rediscover NY, give it another chance, see how jaded I really was, and find out if it was still my home.

My past life in NY was fast. I rushed from place to place, always needing more time in the day, never feeling finished, my to-do list always growing. I spent little money but nonetheless I paid for things that never occurred to me were optional. I ate on the subway, I crashed hard at night, I never felt like I had time for me, even though my work as an educator was enjoyable and enriching- it was everything but also felt like a sinking hole I’d never get out of.

After my time living in India, enveloped by nature, barefoot more often than not, living outside among trees and creatures, sheltered from consumerism, celebrating on a daily basis the contributions we can make to the earth through our life choices, and then cycling through rich lands where I chose to live simply and share my experiences, I have become calm. I am less reactive, more patient, waiting to take in all that is around me- the environment, the conversation, the big picture. I am not in a hurry. I am not impatient. I am not worried. Friends say I am more grounded.

And so I have rediscovered NY. I am not waiting, impersonally at crosswalks with other people in a rush; I am chatting with cyclists waiting for the light to change, secretly sharing joy in experiencing the city this other way. I am not in a high-rise apartment building, disassociated from people, feeling the city hum below me; I am living on the edges, with friends, in ethnically-diverse communities, artist-rich communities, feeling “neighborhood” more and more. I am not racing to teach my heart out until I collapse at the end of the day; I am reading and writing and meeting with other education reformists who see opportunities for change and are working with me, waiting for the right moment, to pounce.

I am different, but so is my relationship with NY. I remember being told many times by many people that you are who you are no matter where you are, that changing your environment will only change you temporarily; you are already formed. I disagree so much with these sentiments; your experiences form you throughout your life and they are dependent on where they happen, who they happen with, and how you reflect on them, incorporating the changes you like into the habits of who you are. And so, once again in my life, NY is home, even though I’m inside buildings, wearing shoes, and averting my gaze from the barrage of advertising that is capitalism. 

I am grateful for my privilege, my choice, my adventures and experiences, the people I’ve crossed paths with and those I hold close, the times I cycled alone for hours being one with this planet, and feeling bold in the face of a plagued public education system while my brain fills with solutions for our children. 

“Change your thoughts and you change your world.” Norman Vincent Peele said this. He was the godfather, of sorts, of the power of positive thinking. 

What if youth had toolboxes full of strategies to combat bullying and build respect among peers?

Chance to Choose is a project aimed at doing just this. Dave McGrail, parent of a middle-school girl, noticed that there are all kinds of bullying his daughter was engaging in, unaware of and often adamant that it was not bullying. So he wrote a book: a “choose your own adventure” book for middle-school girls where they would be confronted with situations involving bullying, cyber-bulling, gender, body image, and peer pressure and have to make choices and face the consequences.

The book inspired a teacher to read it in an after-school setting to her female students to address these topical issues. This, in turn, inspired Dave to create Chance to Choose, a formal after-school program that plays through these scenarios with small groups of girls and works out solutions, outcomes, consequences, and all along the way throws in variables that adjust situations, making one rethink her actions. It’s interactive, it’s role play, it’s social learning, it’s building emotional intelligence, and it’s filling a significantly under-attended to need. It’s great to be talking about why bullying is bad but it’s a whole different thing to do something about it.

On this day, when we celebrate Martin Luther King Jr., I celebrate Dave and Chance to Choose for working to help young girls stand up for themselves and to treat each other with respect. What if youth had toolboxes full of strategies to combat bullying and build respect among peers?

What if anti-bullying curriculum was the ticket to a kinder world?

I saw this video and it literally made me cry. Five 5th grade boys decide to befriend a much-bullied boy with special needs and it changes all of their lives. As a teacher, this is the goal! I want my students to see each other as individuals, with different strengths that make them special, and to look out for each other, protect each other, create community together. Through sharing personal stories, books, role-play, and language empowerment, children can all develop empathy.