Thursday, April 26, 2018

The greatest race: the human one

Photo by Rob Cummings

This image is not your typical starting line of a running race. Running races tend to be intense affairs with anxiety, nerves, expectation, and anticipation thick in the inches of air between participants. On Sunday, however, I had the pleasure of running one of the most beautiful races I've ever encountered. The joy was simply explosive. The race--the Leatherman's Loop--includes harrowing river crossings, 45 degree pitches up impossibly sandy inclines, shoe-sucking mud flats, but more than anything, it is a race about beauty of the human spirit.

My friends Sean and Matt used to often greet each other in their days as summer camp leaders with the booming call and response,

"It's a great day for a race!"

"The huuuuuumannnnn race!"


And that reality returned to me on Sunday. I loved that, just prior to the starting pistol there was a requisite acknowledgement of the runners around you. That's the image above. Each of the 1,300+ participants extending a greeting to the human beings around them.

Then, there was a blessing, read by the race's "spiritual advisor."


Beauty below me as I run.
Beauty above me as I run.
beauty beside me as I run.
beauty inside me As I run.
I see beauty all around me.
In beauty may we walk.
in beauty may we see.
in beauty may we all be.

And finally, instead of leading off the 10k race with a gun, a song was sung with the ending chords constituting the race's commencement.

Now, what does this have to do with my students and my role as a teacher/learner in the classroom? Well, there's a Ugandan saying (that I know thanks to www.runjanji.com) called
Anazina Takumba!

This translates to, "If you are going to dance, THEN DANCE!"

This was the essence of the Leatherman's Loop. If we are going to do something--anything!--it is worth doing well, but it is also worth doing joyfully, gleefully, and with reckless abandon. It doesn't mean that it can't be difficult, or that it is going to be enjoyable during every second (because I can guarantee you that this race HURT), but just like dancing, we need to be overtaken by the things we do, not just do them as participants. There is beauty within us and "Anazina Takumba!" grants us permission to let that beauty out.

I want my students to love what they're doing, and find joy in it. I want their final 8 weeks of school to feel celebratory. Of course, I want them to feel challenged, because what is an accomplishment, what is growth, without overcoming obstacles, but I also want them to stop and see the beauty in who they've become.

After all, if you can't stop to find the beauty in the midst of the mud flats, why are you out there in the first place?

Anazina Takumba!

Friday, April 13, 2018

I just love trying

I just finished up my final student-led parent conference of the spring. It's a process during which I get to observe the self-reflections of my advisees. Some of them are awkward, some of them side step the truth, some of them are at a loss for words...but then I realize I am awkward. I side step the truth. I am at a loss for words. My students are just so human, and I have watched them grow from naive middle schoolers to reflective, thoughtful young adults on the brink of high school.

I love so much about these conferences. I love hearing parents say, "I am so proud of you." I love grabbing a box of tissues for teary eyes. I love hearing students wax poetic about the things they've loved and the challenges they've conquered.

But this year, what I loved most was one particularly resilient and optimistic student's response to my question, "why do you think this year has been so successful for you?"

The student paused.
Thought deeply.
Started to speak.
Stopped.
Reconsidered.
Inhaled deeply.
Then, finally,
and with a shrug,
admitted,

"...I just love trying."

We fumble through life as it humbles us again and again, but is there anything that spells success and growth better than that phrase? In a world that celebrates winning and besting and defeating...let's celebrate trying.



Thursday, April 5, 2018

On Fire

I have been thinking about burning lately. About the word, but also what it means to metaphorically burn the candle at both ends. And about my students' colloquial use of "lit," and "burn," and "flamed," and "on fire," "roasted," and "scorch," and "smoked." (That's good, good/bad, bad, good, bad, good, good if you're following along at home).

Here's the way that Google helps me understand four different forms of the word "burning."

   on fire.


        synonyms:blazing, flamingfiery, ignited, glowingred-hot, smoldering, igneous
  • very hot or bright.


    synonyms:extremely hot, red-hotfieryblisteringscorchingsearingswelteringtorrid
  • very keenly or deeply felt; intense.


    synonyms:intensepassionatedeep-seatedprofoundwholeheartedstrongardentferventurgentfierceeagerfrantic,
    consuminguncontrollable
    "a burning desire"

  • of urgent interest and importance; exciting or calling for debate.


    synonyms:importantcrucialsignificantvitalessentialpivotalMore


When combined, these four definitions help me to better understand that beautiful line from Kerouac's On the Road that I've mentioned on this blog before:


“[...]the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!” 


Kerouac's people who burn, burn, burn are all these things. They feel things with urgent interest,and experience the world intensely; the essence and impact they have on those around them is often hot and bright, and they ignite others with their glowing energy....they kindle relationships and ideas and innovation. "And everybody goes 'Awww!'"

I recently finished Neil Pasricha's book The Happiness Equation. It's one of those books that makes me think about myself a great deal. There were so many things I loved about it and it spawned so many ideas deep within my core. One of the things I took from the book was Pasricha's recommendation that, when dividing our time, we dwell in places of "space" or places of "burn." Essentially, his encouragement is to either be firing on all cylinders like a burning roman candle, or soaking in the quiet of our own peace, wherever and whenever that may be. It is only by listening to the pulse of ourselves and the world around us that we can truly create and have the energy to burn brightly.

Here is the image Pasricha creates to illustrate the way we spend our time thinking and doing.





I've been inspired recently by a few people who burn...who think and do LOUDLY, and MASSIVELY, and BRILLIANTLY. Their brains inspire mine in ways both direct and subtle.



Brittany Stinson wrote a highly acclaimed college essay a few years ago about Costco which ends with the following paragraph:

My intense desire to know, to explore beyond the bounds of rational thought; this is what defines me. Costco fuels my insatiability and cultivates curiosity within me at a cellular level. Encoded to immerse myself in the unknown, I find it difficult to complacently accept the "what"; I want to hunt for the "whys" and dissect the "hows." In essence, I subsist on discovery.

I find this beautiful and inspiring. I know that were I to start a company--any company, doing anything--I would want someone with this Brittany Stinson DNA on board. She is the type of person Kerouac was seeking...I can just tell.

Another person whose imagination and drive I love is Sam Harnett. Sam went to college with me, but we never knew each other. I knew who he was and I always saw him and he just walked around looking inspired. He started a radio podcast called "The World According to Sound." It's brilliant and beautiful and just explodes the idea of sound, as well as the notion of how brief (yet deep) an audio show can be. I love it and it makes my own ideas explode. I shared a few episodes with my students to illustrate the ability to do so much with so little, and to listen to the things we might be missing that are all around us.

Now here's the crazy thing...his brother, Ben Harnett, who I found via Twitter, is also totally inspiring. Must've been something in their childhoods. Ben--a man of many inspiring talents--had this idea to create and publish a poetry chapbook and give it away to the first people who signed up on a Google Doc. He titled it Animal. Then, a while later, he did the same thing with Vegetable. My students loved it...they were baffled that it was free, but loved it even more as it occurred to them that he simply wanted people to read his poems and to set them free. When word reached them (and me) that Ben was releasing Mineral this spring, we clamored to ensure our name got on the Google Doc. A really neat way to share art with the world.

Finally, both my friends Katie Nelson and Jesse Lindsey inspire me with their respective musical innovation. Katie recently released an album entitled Lavender and Lace: An Anthology of Queens. The album is a collection of songs written from the perspective of 13 different queens from history. It inspires me to think deeply about the ways story and art and history all make up the fabric of the human story. Katie is coming to my classroom later this year and I just can't wait. My students will love that she grasps her ikigai (the reason she gets up in the morning) and her energy is beyond contagious. She, like Ben, wants to set her masterpiece free in the hearts, minds, and souls of her audience.

Jesse, on the other hand, is a longtime friend who writes songs and records them on his rock blog, http://www.mounteverestweekly.com/. Every Monday, he posts a new song and the story behind it. He's been going at it for 385 weeks, every Monday. I shared his song "A tether" with my students when we were writing our own personal mission statements in class...I wanted them to think about both dreaming and staying close to home, about departing and staying tethered to that which defines them. I wanted most of all, though, for them to love the courage Jesse had in facing his fears and (like this blog) putting himself out there to an audience, however small. One student even wondered aloud whether the title, Mount Everest, might be an allusion to the biggest hurdle one could possibly overcome on the planet.

Finally, I was so inspired by one student who couldn't contain her enthusiasm with Animal Farm this week. "Mr. McDonough!" she exclaimed in the hall, "I don't even have words....I just love how it's about power and about society, but it's about animals so it's just...it's just...ahhhhhhhh!" and off she ran. 14 and on fire. Subsisting on discovery.