As a fellow English teacher - I found this video to be incredibly inspiring - and made me think: how do I hold back in speaking my truth?
What have you been silent about in your life? Have you ever witnessed an injustice and walked away?
When I was your age - and it really started in middle school - I would hear a lot of bullying and I was a quiet kid. I didn't put my neck out to stand up for others. I wouldn't laugh or contribute to the teasing, mocking, or outright bullying - I'd often walk away... I still regret my lack of courage then.
One word that still burns me: "gay" as a deragotory term (or any other insult for that matter).
When I was in elementary school, I loved singing and dancing and that was supported and fostered in my little school. In my home, my mom and dad loved music, musicals, and dancing. My dad was a classic reticent Irish Catholic; my mom, also Catholic, majored in dance at Butler University. She taught dance at Lake Erie College; then, she met my dad and had three boys. Despite my parents's many differences, we would all listen to (and watch) musicals like West Side Story or Les Miserables.
When I went to the big district middle school, I will never forget that first day in our required chorus class (where I might have been the only boy singing) before I quickly learned that was unacceptable. In short, I was bullied into silence. The stereotype: real men don't sing or dance or show emotion.
Well, that was a lie - a story that immature kids learned somewhere - and pushed on others. I don't share this story seeking sympathy, but to illustrate a couple points.
It upsets me beyond words when kids are cruel to other kids because they enjoy music or singing or acting. I am not saying I would have had a life in musical theater, but I know personally how others can shut down an interest - out of some notion that it's not cool.
I can't imagine what it's like to be in the shoes of young people today with social media and how easy it is to be cruel in comments - since you don't have to look someone in the eye and say it face to face. In the world of anonymous Twitter handles and Yik Yak, you could easily lose hope in humanity.
Part of why I am a teacher is that I must hope - and believe in you - to take right action. To be compassionate. To be impeccable with your word. To be kind.
I hope this lesson today opens your minds - but more importantly your hearts. To embrace all diversity. Who are we to judge?
I would like to think with this day of reflection - in this silence - we may think more about how words matter. Words once spoken can never be taken back. Not even with "just joking."
I am not naive to think one day, one class, a couple videos, can make a difference. I know these days of awareness spark backlash and cynicism. Today is not a political agenda. You can call it a human rights agenda.
For today's class, I was silent. Here's why:
I asked my student to watch any of the following videos on laptops with headphones;
"Or how can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,' when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother's eye."
Please sit down. Thank you. Thank you, Cole, for that introduction. It is humbling to be here. To speak to you today is an incredible opportunity to come together as a community and one I do not take lightly. I thank Vestry & Rev. Squire for having me here today.
Right now, I want you to think of three things you are grateful for. Take a moment. Be specific. Get clear. Now, say hello to the person next to you. Smile and share a few words of gratitude with that person.
Okay. Now...if I can have your attention...My hope in allowing you a moment to say hello to the person next to you is that for the next few minutes I will have your undivided attention.
Today’s reading is one that I have meditated on for fifteen years since the death of my brother, Conor. After eight years of struggling with bipolar disorder, my brother died by suicide February 26, 2000. He did not leave behind a note, but on his bed, he left open his Bible to Luke. Today’s reading is one of the verses from those two pages. I have read and reread those pages - today’s verses - searching for meaning - for years.
I often think of how quick I was to judge. How I was a hypocrite in giving him advice...
How I was blind to my own faults and shortcomings... How I failed him.
How I should have been more compassionate and less judgmental.
But I can’t repeat the past. I will never know his intention. I can only imagine what verse he wanted us to read - what strength from the Bible he wanted us to take? What verse did he read last?
I have had to let go of some of these stories. Fifteen years later it still feels like yesterday. It is still difficult to believe. As suicide survivors, my family has been left with questions that will never be answered. Indeed, the dark side of the subjunctive possibilities - what if…
In 2011, I gave a keynote address at a walk for suicide prevention and education about mental illness. Perhaps, one of the most difficult things I have ever done in my life was to speak in front of 1500 hundred people, many families like mine; yet, it was a cathartic, empowering experience, and I take some solace in knowing that my family’s pain of losing Conor may help other families - and maybe save lives. I invite you to watch the Life Act YouTube video which frees me today to share my thoughts on learning, a couple poems, as well as a few untold stories that - who knows - you may need to hear.
I will spare you the David Copperfield life story - and give you the abridged version. I grew up in Cleveland Ohio, full financial aid boarding school at Phillips Academy in Andover, MA, college at the University of Pennsylvania, and grad school at Middlebury College’s Bread Loaf School of English. Let’s be candid - that’s a resume - not a life story.
Instead, to begin, let me share a poem by Robert Frost.
In my 13 years of teaching, I have found tremendous solace and power in poetry. Part of my message today is: Find poets. Read poetry in this month of April. Discover poetry that has meaning to you.
At 41 years old, I am more conscious than ever before of how precious life is - and how short life can be. As some of you know, in September, my beloved 93 year-old grandmother, my mother’s mother, passed away in her sleep. The same week of her funeral, we learned my dad had stage 4 esophageal cancer. Nearly two months later, November 12th, my father joined my grandmother and my brother.
I feel fortunate to have been at home with my father for his final days. Their legacy of love is with me today. Both my father and grandmother believed in the power of education, rising from humble beginnings through independent learning, mostly outside of formal schooling.
Yet, it is with spring in the air, after a long, cold winter, and in the spirit of renewal and rebirth, I wish to share a few stories and 13 quick lessons I have learned in my 13 years of teaching.
Taking liberties with 13 Ways of Looking a Blackbird by Wallace Stevens, I present to you:
My favorite quote of Henry Ford: “If you think you can, or think you can’t, you’re right.” Much of life is self-fulfilling. Believe that you can - just not yet.
When I was a little kid in fourth grade, I was going to my first track meet composed of all the area schools. Coddling me, my mom said, “Kevin, you may be the fastest in your class of sixteen, but, understand, there are going to be a lot of other kids...”
It was annoying, but sure enough, there were hundreds of kids at the meet when we arrived. Before I left her, I asked why she did that, “Mom, why do you always talk like that? It sounds like you think I’m going to fail.” Surprised, she thought for a minute and asked me what I wanted her to say. I simply replied, “Go for it.”
Today, I realize she was only trying to protect me. “Go for it.” From then on, those three words would serve as our mantra. Over the weekend, when I shared I was a bit apprehensive about giving this talk, she looked at me, smiled, and said, “Go for it.”
3. What motivates us? Three words: Autonomy, Mastery, Purpose.
I will let Daniel Pink explain the rest. (Watch this RSA video when you have a chance.)
1. Be Impeccable with your Word.(Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the Word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your Word in the direction of truth and love.)
2. Don’t Take Anything Personally. (Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.)
3. Don’t Make Assumptions. (Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.)
4. Always Do Your Best. (Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse, and regret.)
I read this book in 2009. It has helped quiet the noise in my mind. It will save you much angst and drama if you read it. Be impeccable with your word, I believe, is the hardest.
One thing you can count on in life. Things change.
I promise you, “This too shall pass.”
Little story: In 5th grade, I won the lip sync contest, dancing to El Debarge’s “Rhythm of the Night.” My mom was impressed having been a dance major. One of her prized possessions is a recording of me lip synching which has haunted me most of my life. (Topic of previous chapel talk.)
It’s taken time, but finally...I can laugh. Stay tuned. I will post it to YouTube soon.
7. Lucky number 7 - I do not believe in luck.
That has been said many times... No power in superstition - superstitions are stories. If the story does not serve you, you have to let that story go. Don’t be a victim of other stories - of gossip, fate, or circumstance.
With regard to income and education inequality in America, and throughout the world, there are opportunities now to connect and learn through technology; however, we must tackle these issues face-to-face in conversation.
Again, I return to Daniel Pink. He’s a mentor to me - and I’ve never met the man.
10. “The first 10 years are the hardest.”
At a yoga workshop, Rolf Gates, a master teacher and former Army Ranger was sharing his story. He is the embodiment of what Brene Brown calls The Power of Vulnerability (a must watch TED Talk). Rolf’s life in the military was followed by heavy drinking which ultimately led him on a destructive path until he hit bottom. The support he received from Alcoholics Anonymous led him to meditation and yoga.
Six months into his practice he lost his sister to suicide, and without his practice of yoga, his faith, his discipline with meditation, he would have relapsed or worse. His emotional story resonated with me on a deep level. In a room full of yogis, I sat listening quietly as tears poured down my face. At a break, we talked. He told me the first 10 years are the hardest… and he was right.
11. Going back to 9/11 2001
I was working in NYC, living what was once a dream of mine - to work in the film business. I worked on Serendipity, the teen classic Swimfan, and landed a job as assistant to the president of GreeneStreet Films in Tribeca. That beautiful Tuesday morning on my walk across lower Manhattan, the first plane flew over my head at Canal and Hudson street. I walked towards the towers - and from just a few blocks away at Chambers and Greenwich Street, I stopped and I watched… I will never forget that day.
At my previous school, three years ago, I was teaching my sophomores Catcher in the Rye by
J.D. Salinger (which I read as a student before going to boarding school at fourteen years old).
In a coffee shop one afternoon, I was reading it again. I had an epiphany. I felt I was seeing the following words for the first time.
Towards the end, Salinger writes (as narrator Holden Caulfield):
"Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around-nobody big, I mean-except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be. I know it's crazy."
My epiphany reading in a coffee shop, (again, I am sensitive, so tears pouring down my face...) Since my brother’s death and 9/11, I had become a teacher, coach, and mentor - a catcher in the rye - not merely trying to make a difference, but trying to save lives.
We all save lives every day, and we don’t even know it.
Through compassion, we save lives - sometimes by just saying hello.
You have no idea what it means to connect.
What’s your story? What’s going on?
We’re all connected.
12. What will be your legacy?
Keep it simple. Be kind. Be Kind. Be Kind.
13. This is it. Be present.
We get stuck in the past.
We plan for the future, or wait in limbo and uncertainty, for our real lives to begin, someday…
It’s not easy, and you’re never alone. Make life good.
For you, for others. If you begin with others, it will be good for you.
And as promised... the dance video that once embarrassed me - and still does - but I laugh...
(when I think how my mom shared it with all of my friends at my 8th grade going away party).
My dear American Literature students, When I decided to teach Adventures of Huckleberry Finn this year, I had a compass to guide me, but I can't say I had a map of where it would take us. With Huck, my ultimate hope was to make a connection between past and present. When it comes to American Literature, there is no meaning to the texts if there's no understanding of the context. So we began this course as an invitation to a conversation: a journey by invitation only - to do something game changing.
After a year of teaching British Literature, and a year off from teaching American Literature, I wanted to address topics that I tended to avoid in the past. Like polite dinner conversation, I would avoid discussing politics, religion, or race. But after my experience last year in SEED, a national project Seeking Educational Equity and Diversity, I knew that I had to go there. I had no choice. Silence feeds injustice. In SEED, teacher to teacher, we had discussions on why race is difficult to talk about - how it's uncomfortable for everyone. We discussed diversity as well as privilege. And we talked about how to be an ally for others. We read inspiring essays. For example, Martin Luther King, Jr.'s letter to clergymen from the Birmingham City Jail:
I am coming to feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than the people of goodwill. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the vitriolic words and actions of the bad people, but for the appalling silence of the good people. We must come to see that human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability. It comes through the tireless efforts and persistent work of men willing to be co-workers with God, and without this hard work time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We must use time creatively, and forever realize that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy, and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is the time to lift our national policy from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity.
After this transformative SEED experience, I decided:
Why teach if I don't discuss issues that matter?
In the wake of recent events, I have been reluctant to explain specific cases, not wishing to debate details or evidence that has been polarizing in the deaths of Michael Brown and Eric Garner. The media spin could be a full masters level course in journalism. Instead, I asked you to read news from across the spectrum. I elected to offer online discussion boards around questions and topics such as the Huck and the N-Word, micro-aggressions and the piling-on principle, and privilege and awareness. By articulating thoughts in writing and sharing compelling content, I hoped that you as students would be more informed and mindful of the issues. Everyone is entitled to his or her opinion. The goal is to engage in conversation and think about issues in writing; perhaps, more importantly, read and think about the opinions of classmates; then, follow up with meaningful and ongoing face to face conversations. This entire course is one long conversation between past and present. Meanwhile, I obsessively read and collect countless articles via Flipboard magazines: America and Race, Privilege, Assumptions, and Awareness, and Ferguson, MO. I encourage you to read these and keep up with current events. Again, I recommend Twitter to follow news headlines and stories that unfold in realtime. Recently, I shared with you an article by Andover's head of school, John Palfrey. I feel I have struggled to appear impartial because I have felt bringing light to events is a bias in itself. Echoing Palfrey, I want to be clear that I do not want you to think what I think. I simply wish you to be informed in your thinking; I want you to be able to express an opinion in writing. Remember, Dan Pink: "Sometimes we have to write to figure it out." Meanwhile, Palfrey articulates in his all-school address why recent events matter.
The other reason I asked you to pay attention to what happened in Ferguson is because I think it matters a great deal in an historic sense. It matters to every single one of us – Latino/a, Asian, Black, White, regardless of the race, or races, or ethnicity or ethnicities, that you claim. It matters to each person, perhaps in a different way. But it matters to all of us because it stands for a few important things. It stands for the difficulty we continue to have in talking about race and difference in the world. I know, in what I will say to you today, I will offend one or more of you; or perhaps I will stumble badly over my words. We must each run that risk — of offending one another, of saying the wrong thing, on the way to the truth and to productive dialogue. This issue also stands for the very real challenge of effective law enforcement and global security — which we must accomplish with real effectiveness — and to do so in a world in which it is not possible to ignore the inequities between people in our society.
I know I have stumbled in different ways this fall, especially while experimenting with a new learning management system. But in the grand scheme of things, I feel there are risks worth taking. I elect to embrace change and remind myself to be resilient. By now you know, I believe in innovation (and leveraging the internet) to restore integrity and greater purpose in the study of literature in the 21st century. I refuse to be nostalgic for old dusty books - and B.I. (Before Internet) times when kids read Shakespeare and Twain for just the joy of reading... Let's get real. Let's stop pretending the internet does not exist. As teachers, we are in competition with compelling content via smartphones, Netflix, Youtube, etc. Another Dan Pink idea, we are all in sales. I could go on...
But recently I read this article on Privilege at elite schools:
"The Three Most Important Questions You Can Ask Your Teenager"
Perhaps this article will resonate with you - I don't want to make assumptions - but I have been teaching at three different elite schools for thirteen years now and I have witnessed similar issues. I wish it were not the case, but I regretfully agree with the following:
Deresiewicz claims that this generation of highly accomplished, college-bound students have been robbed of their independence because they have been raised in a petri dish for one purpose only: to attend an elite college that ensures their and their families' economic and social status. Instead of being nurtured towards real curiosity and a genuine sense of citizenship, these millennials are conditioned to think that everything they do is for the purpose of looking good in the eyes of admissions officers and employers: you earn good grades not because they mean you are learning something, but rather because they will help you stand out from your peers when applying to the Ivies. You engage in community service not because you wish genuinely to make a positive difference in the lives of others but rather because that is how you burnish your resume -- service as check-off box. You play sports not because they build character and teamwork and are a whole lot of fun, but because you want to try to get recruited for a college team. You study art or music not because you wish to refine your understanding of human nature, creativity and culture but because it will help you look smarter.
Perhaps, this article hits a nerve - and I hope you will not be defensive and call it heresy. This article makes me feel empathy for students that carry the weight of high expectation that come with privilege. (I have empathy for all kids growing up today.) When some students hear privilege (and to be at EA is a privilege), there may be sensitivity to conversations around this privilege - we all have our challenges and stories. We can be defensive about the notion of privilege if it connotes an easy life on easy street. Everyone works hard and make sacrifices. We all face adversity and endure pain. When conversations around embracing diversity come up, some students may be reluctant or even cynical. I have heard some say that I am colorblind and treat everyone the same. There is a difference between equity and equality - a future conversation I look forward to having.
Just a guess, but I feel that more students than anyone realizes are dealing with issues like depression, anxiety, and a culture of stress and high expectations (even Huck shows signs of depression and suicidal thoughts). Now, some hide it better than others...some cope with it in different ways - and some ways better than others. I feel many students struggle under the expectations to be perfect as they prep and apply to prestigious schools.
As privileged students at an elite school, students hear messages how they should be grateful, choose to be happy (nothing to be depressed about), and be aware of privilege...
After a recent chapel that I appreciated, even simple zen thoughts such as "be present" breeds surprising resentment in students. I get it.
How can you "be present" if you're stressing about all the tests and quizzes to do?
When I read this article, it all makes more sense (to me) as to why there may be push back to deeper conversations that do not pertain to a test. When there's so much to do (and to study), we can become addicted to the busy-ness of the busy trap.
I am sure this is not a novel notion - but a recent epiphany for me with a holistic vision - a community's culture will not be open to meaningful discussion of diversity and inclusion - wellness and depression (a topic I know too well) - in a place of stress and isolation for too many students.
I understand why we can be reluctant to acknowledge such issues. EA is a traditional school - focused on college prep, but America, and the world, is changing exponentially. I again borrow from John Palfrey at Andover - you may replace Andover with any independent school:
I could not be more proud to live in this country; I could not be more proud to be an American. I could not be more proud to live and work at Andover; I could not be more proud to be your head of school. Neither America nor Andover is perfect. Neither one is completely exceptional. But on their best days, they are both completely wonderful. We can and must make both of them better – and with them, the world at large. Andover, it starts here – it starts with each of us and with our community. We can show that democracy works in the context of free, open, orderly discussion on topics that matter — whether they relate to what is right in front of us or what is occurring in the world at large.
So when we discuss issues that matter, we can be sensitive. But we cannot take it personally. We must take that risk to engage in civil conversation. We are all connected, living in an increasingly interdependent world. We have major issues to address. We cannot stick our heads in the sand. We cannot make assumptions and point fingers. We cannot just stand on the soapbox like I have on occasion...this being one of them.
We need to engage in conversations about issues that matter.
1. Be Impeccable with your Word: Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the Word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your Word in the direction of truth and love.
2. Don’t Take Anything PersonallyNothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.
3. Don’t Make AssumptionsFind the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.
4. Always Do Your BestYour best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse, and regret.
And we need to remember Huck - and ask what would Huck do?
He heads west in the end. Why?
He prizes his freedom. I like to think that Huck inspires and represents student autonomy. Huck sees the hypocrisy of the adult world. Huck sees school as boring and civilizing - and a slave-holding society as beyond dangerous.
Now, Huck's example is not a suggestion to drop out of school... For me, it's a call to read, to write, and to think. Think for yourself, in spite of society, like Huck.
I am grateful that you, my students, are still with me, and hopefully enjoying the ride thus far on our journey. In many ways, we have been setting a foundation, a mindset, and a mode of operations. Please continue to trust me - and please keep reading and writing. Thank you!
I hope that we continue this conversation in 2015 with renewed focus and enthusiasm. We are off to a good start, but we have much work to do. I am excited about the direction we are headed.
P.S. - Take advantage of JTerm. I can't wait for my course: "21st Century Storytelling." Great opportunity to learn - for the sake of learning! Sorry to be didactic. Be intellectually curious. Read, read, and read. And enjoy the ride more.
