Dear Rosebud Families,
WIWS families will gather at Maxwelton Beach informally on Fridays from 10 to 3 this summer. I'll miss the first few but look forward to reconnecting later in the summer.
Blessings on your weeks ahead,
William
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
A Waiter's Reflections on Bears, Newspapers, and Media
PREFATORY REMARKS: CHOICES ABOUT TELEVISION
If you have not done so, I encourage you to read an article about screen media's effects upon young children. "The Waldorf View of Television" by Jennifer Saleem offers the added benefit of going back to Waldorf Education's founder, Rudolf Steiner, and speaks a bit of the wellness the education tries to promote.
Part 1 of the article: http://www.tvfreeliving.com/the-effects-of-tv-articlesmenu-43/74-the-waldorf-view-of-television
Part 2: http://www.tvfreeliving.com/the-effects-of-tv-articlesmenu-43/77-the-waldorf-view-of-television-part-two
PREFATORY REMARKS 2: FAULKNER'S ABSALOM, ABSALOM!
While I am looking at a screen as I type this, over the past years I have watched almost no videos or movies (with more efficient use of computer technology so I spend less time staring at words on screens as well). It seems my ability to create mental images in my head is improving. Pictures in my head seem more vivid. Last week I was meeting with teachers in the Butterfly Room. Lights were out. The sun went behind a cloud for the meeting, and it was darker than one might want for a meeting. Soporific. At the conclusion of the meeting (which I promise I stayed present for), I had a wonderful appreciation of the initial scene from Faulkner's fairly abstruse masterpiece--Absalom, Absalom!--in which Quentin Compson (before he would go to Harvard and tell what he learned to his roommate and then unravel in The Sound and the Fury) sits in a crepuscular office about to hear of the legacy of the Sutpen and Coldfield families. I read this book once, 22 years ago. I appreciated its vigor and complexity then. I know I did not create mental images of the scenes from the book as vividly back then as I do now. That I watched movies such as Caddyshack and Die Hard with my roommates to unwind (rather than retelling chilling and Gothic tales of southern families) rather than meditating and walking in nature to unwind as I do may have nothing to with my ability to create these pictures. It is just something to explore.
THE HEART OF WHAT I INTENDED TO WRITE: BEARS AND NEWSPAPERS AND SMART PHONES
"Only Connect" -- E.M. Forster
I love technology when it frees us, connects us. I love listening to literature in audio format. I loved to read in college and grad school, and the physical act of reading--still, head in an awkward position--took a toll on my body.
All this is to say I am biased to be a defender of smart phones and the like, so I find myself becoming defensive when a fellow educator or parent associates the decline of the modern family with the smart phone or other gadget.
In many older children's books I read with my sons, a father--whether bear or badger or human--often seems to be reading a newspaper at the breakfast table, often having no connection with his children or spouse. An occasional badger is perhaps just bashful, and uses the newspaper to hide the glory of love and wisdom within him, and he is able to dispense loving wisdom to his daughter. But some of these other dads seem to drift in and out of the narrative, never really connecting with the family at all. I think of adults I've known addicted to CNN, or NPR, or talk shows, or the Price is Right, or Dickens (O, that's me).
In the restaurant I see many families in which children are playing video games the entire meal (and perhaps having a tantrum or becoming sullen when asked to shut the game for a moment) and young adults are checking out by checking in on Facebook and dads can't stop playing words with friends or solitaire or searching for a new poem at the Poetry Foundation app (OK, that's me again, and I try not to do this while dining out with my boys).
I also see families with no gadgets having miserable times, with all sorts of out of alignment emotions and moods and pushing against one another.
And then there are many families with no gadgets who are there to have fun, who expect to find good things in each other and in their environment and so attract this to them, who remind you that eating out can actually be pleasant (with not a few other families I marvel that I think I am having a much better time than the diners are; I also expect waiting tables to be a pleasant experience, good for my body and mental and emotional capacities).
And from time to time I see families using gadgets together to plan their next adventure that afternoon in perhaps their first visit to Seattle or other mutual plans. One mother, father, and son stand out for me. The dad seems to always have a laptop (he may be on call); the preteen son often has a book or an ipad. The mom has a smart phone. They somehow seem to be really connected despite or almost because of this; they share information with one another; they clearly value and love one another; they like the restaurant; they are pleasant to their waiter; they expect good things to come. They remain present and open to life's wonders around them even with their books and gadgets.
If this thin excuse to justify my listening to Bleak House via bluetooth on my ipad has any sort of conclusion or next direction, it would be to encourage us to think of Eckhart Tolle or others who remind us of the value of the present moment, of being present in the present moment, of allowing, of celebrating the present moment. TVs and computers and smart phones can pull us out of the present moment. So can books, newspapers, racing thoughts, grudges that we could allow to float away, and the like. And we can connect no matter what is there.
Katrina Kenison, editor and write, describes some of this in "Dailiness" from Mitten Strings for God: Reflections for Mothers in a Hurry. Her book is helpful (and available from our school library when it reopens in the fall). Here is an excerpt: http://www.ofspirit.com/tw-mittenstringsforgod.htm.
If you have not done so, I encourage you to read an article about screen media's effects upon young children. "The Waldorf View of Television" by Jennifer Saleem offers the added benefit of going back to Waldorf Education's founder, Rudolf Steiner, and speaks a bit of the wellness the education tries to promote.
Part 1 of the article: http://www.tvfreeliving.com/the-effects-of-tv-articlesmenu-43/74-the-waldorf-view-of-television
Part 2: http://www.tvfreeliving.com/the-effects-of-tv-articlesmenu-43/77-the-waldorf-view-of-television-part-two
PREFATORY REMARKS 2: FAULKNER'S ABSALOM, ABSALOM!
While I am looking at a screen as I type this, over the past years I have watched almost no videos or movies (with more efficient use of computer technology so I spend less time staring at words on screens as well). It seems my ability to create mental images in my head is improving. Pictures in my head seem more vivid. Last week I was meeting with teachers in the Butterfly Room. Lights were out. The sun went behind a cloud for the meeting, and it was darker than one might want for a meeting. Soporific. At the conclusion of the meeting (which I promise I stayed present for), I had a wonderful appreciation of the initial scene from Faulkner's fairly abstruse masterpiece--Absalom, Absalom!--in which Quentin Compson (before he would go to Harvard and tell what he learned to his roommate and then unravel in The Sound and the Fury) sits in a crepuscular office about to hear of the legacy of the Sutpen and Coldfield families. I read this book once, 22 years ago. I appreciated its vigor and complexity then. I know I did not create mental images of the scenes from the book as vividly back then as I do now. That I watched movies such as Caddyshack and Die Hard with my roommates to unwind (rather than retelling chilling and Gothic tales of southern families) rather than meditating and walking in nature to unwind as I do may have nothing to with my ability to create these pictures. It is just something to explore.
THE HEART OF WHAT I INTENDED TO WRITE: BEARS AND NEWSPAPERS AND SMART PHONES
"Only Connect" -- E.M. Forster
I love technology when it frees us, connects us. I love listening to literature in audio format. I loved to read in college and grad school, and the physical act of reading--still, head in an awkward position--took a toll on my body.
All this is to say I am biased to be a defender of smart phones and the like, so I find myself becoming defensive when a fellow educator or parent associates the decline of the modern family with the smart phone or other gadget.
In many older children's books I read with my sons, a father--whether bear or badger or human--often seems to be reading a newspaper at the breakfast table, often having no connection with his children or spouse. An occasional badger is perhaps just bashful, and uses the newspaper to hide the glory of love and wisdom within him, and he is able to dispense loving wisdom to his daughter. But some of these other dads seem to drift in and out of the narrative, never really connecting with the family at all. I think of adults I've known addicted to CNN, or NPR, or talk shows, or the Price is Right, or Dickens (O, that's me).
In the restaurant I see many families in which children are playing video games the entire meal (and perhaps having a tantrum or becoming sullen when asked to shut the game for a moment) and young adults are checking out by checking in on Facebook and dads can't stop playing words with friends or solitaire or searching for a new poem at the Poetry Foundation app (OK, that's me again, and I try not to do this while dining out with my boys).
I also see families with no gadgets having miserable times, with all sorts of out of alignment emotions and moods and pushing against one another.
And then there are many families with no gadgets who are there to have fun, who expect to find good things in each other and in their environment and so attract this to them, who remind you that eating out can actually be pleasant (with not a few other families I marvel that I think I am having a much better time than the diners are; I also expect waiting tables to be a pleasant experience, good for my body and mental and emotional capacities).
And from time to time I see families using gadgets together to plan their next adventure that afternoon in perhaps their first visit to Seattle or other mutual plans. One mother, father, and son stand out for me. The dad seems to always have a laptop (he may be on call); the preteen son often has a book or an ipad. The mom has a smart phone. They somehow seem to be really connected despite or almost because of this; they share information with one another; they clearly value and love one another; they like the restaurant; they are pleasant to their waiter; they expect good things to come. They remain present and open to life's wonders around them even with their books and gadgets.
If this thin excuse to justify my listening to Bleak House via bluetooth on my ipad has any sort of conclusion or next direction, it would be to encourage us to think of Eckhart Tolle or others who remind us of the value of the present moment, of being present in the present moment, of allowing, of celebrating the present moment. TVs and computers and smart phones can pull us out of the present moment. So can books, newspapers, racing thoughts, grudges that we could allow to float away, and the like. And we can connect no matter what is there.
Katrina Kenison, editor and write, describes some of this in "Dailiness" from Mitten Strings for God: Reflections for Mothers in a Hurry. Her book is helpful (and available from our school library when it reopens in the fall). Here is an excerpt: http://www.ofspirit.com/tw-mittenstringsforgod.htm.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
final class, potluck, summer beach days, next year
Dear Parents,
Friday, June 1, will conclude our session. We'll have class as usual in the morning. Siblings and spouses are welcome to join us at 5pm at Maxwelton Beach for a pot-luck (surprise us), play, sun (or refreshing rain), and a drama about the Mossy Men. I will invite parents and children to take the roles of fairies, butterflies, and gnome-like mossy men. I seek one brave adult to wear red and yellow silks to portray the role of the "Fireman" (the sun forces without balance which dry out the flowers) in a not too scary way. Let me know. I speak all the lines; you will be miming.
Traditionally WIWS families decide to gather at Maxwelton Beach one morning a week over the summer. Once a plan emerges, I will let you know.
In addition to teaching a mixed age nursery/kindergarten next year, I am pleased to continue to teach parent & child classes on Fridays. Class time will likely change to 9:30 to 11:30am. Rather than try to fit 3 sessions in with school breaks, we will likely have 2 slightly longer sessions, with a fallow period in the months of January and February.
Blessings on your summers,
William
Friday, June 1, will conclude our session. We'll have class as usual in the morning. Siblings and spouses are welcome to join us at 5pm at Maxwelton Beach for a pot-luck (surprise us), play, sun (or refreshing rain), and a drama about the Mossy Men. I will invite parents and children to take the roles of fairies, butterflies, and gnome-like mossy men. I seek one brave adult to wear red and yellow silks to portray the role of the "Fireman" (the sun forces without balance which dry out the flowers) in a not too scary way. Let me know. I speak all the lines; you will be miming.
Traditionally WIWS families decide to gather at Maxwelton Beach one morning a week over the summer. Once a plan emerges, I will let you know.
In addition to teaching a mixed age nursery/kindergarten next year, I am pleased to continue to teach parent & child classes on Fridays. Class time will likely change to 9:30 to 11:30am. Rather than try to fit 3 sessions in with school breaks, we will likely have 2 slightly longer sessions, with a fallow period in the months of January and February.
Blessings on your summers,
William
Thursday, May 24, 2012
"Here's the Towel": Feedback and Bikram Yoga
In "Rhythm and Discipline in Home Life," Rahima Baldwin Dancy reminds us that we will find ourselves tuned up to guide our children once we release our (false) expectation that they will remember our (ostensibly) wisdom tomorrow. Rather than, "Why do you always slam the door? I tell you every day not to!" we might make it a (spiritual) practice to be present at the door like a zen master ready to help our child close the door gently. Sharifa Oppenheimer gives this analogy: anytime we have to direct our children in an incendiary moment, we soothe our children and shift their vibrations if we can offer our words with the same inflection we might say to a guest, "Here's the towel."
I remember uttering (out loud!) "Here's the towel" to girls in an explosive conflict over a doll. Strangeness disarmed them. They paused, descried their weird teacher, and flowed into collaborative and imaginative play they were both wanting so much.
Andrea Gambardella, the teacher who launched me into nursery and parent & child teaching in Baltimore, a teacher who drips with erudition and integrity and warmth, encourages us to find metaphors that work for us. She pictured herself as a sturdy oak, able to stand no matter what winds or storms blew by it.
Recently I took my first Bikram Yoga class. Glorious. 90 minutes at 105 degrees. This intensity tasted like the wee little bear's porridge to me: I opened, expanded, released. I adored the teachers. This was Seattle. Classes had about 30 to 50 students. The poses are difficult. Teachers need to correct us constantly. They need to correct sometimes one student. Sometimes they have to give generic feedback that will help everyone without causing one or a few students to overcompensate. The four teachers I've witnessed seemed a master at giving this necessary and almost constant feedback in a supportive and nonjudgmental tone. I never once felt my worthiness in question.
Eureka. I had a vibrant, living, refreshed metaphor for my teaching. While I would not talk constantly in an early childhood classroom, I did wonder if I could carry this attitude of giving feedback with such equanimity, something I know we are supposed to do--yet it is so easy to slide into the slough of despair and exasperation. Could I guide that child about to strike another child with a stick (important for me to intervene) with the same calmness and freedom from judgment my yoga instructors treat me with when I can't touch my forehead to the floor while having my knees locked? I could! And did. And it helped the children realize that they did not have to be stuck in their same patterns. These things actually work!
We want to feel well. We want to flow. We want to expand. We want to be free. We want to lift others. And it is so easy to fall into unconscious habits that take us out of the present moment, that bring in doubt, judgment. It is such a blessing when a new experience can help to wake us up yet again and remind us that we can step back into a place of presence, free from resistance, full of allowing, knowing, seeing, loving, helping, nurturing, soothing, sweating. Here's the towel to dry off your sweat when you find your practice.
I remember uttering (out loud!) "Here's the towel" to girls in an explosive conflict over a doll. Strangeness disarmed them. They paused, descried their weird teacher, and flowed into collaborative and imaginative play they were both wanting so much.
Andrea Gambardella, the teacher who launched me into nursery and parent & child teaching in Baltimore, a teacher who drips with erudition and integrity and warmth, encourages us to find metaphors that work for us. She pictured herself as a sturdy oak, able to stand no matter what winds or storms blew by it.
Recently I took my first Bikram Yoga class. Glorious. 90 minutes at 105 degrees. This intensity tasted like the wee little bear's porridge to me: I opened, expanded, released. I adored the teachers. This was Seattle. Classes had about 30 to 50 students. The poses are difficult. Teachers need to correct us constantly. They need to correct sometimes one student. Sometimes they have to give generic feedback that will help everyone without causing one or a few students to overcompensate. The four teachers I've witnessed seemed a master at giving this necessary and almost constant feedback in a supportive and nonjudgmental tone. I never once felt my worthiness in question.
Eureka. I had a vibrant, living, refreshed metaphor for my teaching. While I would not talk constantly in an early childhood classroom, I did wonder if I could carry this attitude of giving feedback with such equanimity, something I know we are supposed to do--yet it is so easy to slide into the slough of despair and exasperation. Could I guide that child about to strike another child with a stick (important for me to intervene) with the same calmness and freedom from judgment my yoga instructors treat me with when I can't touch my forehead to the floor while having my knees locked? I could! And did. And it helped the children realize that they did not have to be stuck in their same patterns. These things actually work!
We want to feel well. We want to flow. We want to expand. We want to be free. We want to lift others. And it is so easy to fall into unconscious habits that take us out of the present moment, that bring in doubt, judgment. It is such a blessing when a new experience can help to wake us up yet again and remind us that we can step back into a place of presence, free from resistance, full of allowing, knowing, seeing, loving, helping, nurturing, soothing, sweating. Here's the towel to dry off your sweat when you find your practice.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Maxwelton Beach, June 1, 5 to 7pm
Dear Nursery and Parent & Child Families and Friends,
Please gather with us on our final day of Rosebud classes (and our final full week of nursery classes) at Maxwelton Beach on Friday, June 1, from 5 to 7pm for a pot-luck and festive summer expansion. The weather will invite, as appropriate, Maypole dancing, fiddle tunes, and folk song singing from Rise Up Singing.
If there are enough willing adults, we may even put on a play for and with the children. We did this with the Elves and The Shoemaker a few winters ago, and it was delightful.
Please gather with us on our final day of Rosebud classes (and our final full week of nursery classes) at Maxwelton Beach on Friday, June 1, from 5 to 7pm for a pot-luck and festive summer expansion. The weather will invite, as appropriate, Maypole dancing, fiddle tunes, and folk song singing from Rise Up Singing.
If there are enough willing adults, we may even put on a play for and with the children. We did this with the Elves and The Shoemaker a few winters ago, and it was delightful.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 6pm Meeting
Dear Rosebud Parents,
You are invited to gather with other early childhood families tomorrow night in the Butterfly Room at 6pm. Among other topics about next year, we will be introducing more and expanded enrollment options for our school's youngest children. We will also try to make a review of the new information available for and perhaps even in Friday's class.
With appreciation,
William
You are invited to gather with other early childhood families tomorrow night in the Butterfly Room at 6pm. Among other topics about next year, we will be introducing more and expanded enrollment options for our school's youngest children. We will also try to make a review of the new information available for and perhaps even in Friday's class.
With appreciation,
William
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Challenge as Strength
Dear Families,
Here I digress. If you seek long peregrinations through my mind on matters related to Waldorf education and child development, consider visiting butterflynursery.blogspot.com and/or dewdroprosebud.blogspot.com. Both blogs have a search feature. You can type in, for example, "sleep" or "conflict" to uncover and dust off posts from past years that address these topics.
My present intent it to present a series of shorter essays that present one topic at a time.
Steiner extolled the lively child, the active child, the defiant child. In the fire of early childhood, Steiner foresaw the strength that would aid the child in work and life as an adult. Steiner did not, however, exhort us to give children free reign while we stood around, helpless, wondering when the angels drop down to tell us what to do. It be can be quizzical to maddening to liberating to read Steiner and notice the times he recommends intervention when I would not have thought of one and when he advises us to let things be when one might have thought of intervening. There is no exact formula. No exact recipe. Each child is unique. Again and again we are told to observe without judgment, and the inspiration will come to us.
I propose the following: for the next days or weeks, seek out a behavior of your child that seems annoying or upsetting. With as much fun as possible, create a scenario in your mind of your child as an adult, with this perhaps disturbing seed of early childhood serving as a strength. You may find it best to start with an easy one. You may find it easy to start with a difficult one and spin out a far-fetched fantasy (the world will change a lot in 20 years). Perhaps you will imagine or intuit things that can help guide the child's challenge into strength. Perhaps not. But even the gesture of making peace with the Now, the suchness of the moment, may bring pleasure, contentment, radiance, a winged chariot pulled by 2 pegasus (keep it fun and imaginative), and the like. This may be easy. It may not. Have fun either way.
Here I defy my inclination to compare this to multifarious processes from other educational and spiritual streams. Tell me how you fare. Expect more later.
With appreciation of your willingness to play,
William
Here I digress. If you seek long peregrinations through my mind on matters related to Waldorf education and child development, consider visiting butterflynursery.blogspot.com and/or dewdroprosebud.blogspot.com. Both blogs have a search feature. You can type in, for example, "sleep" or "conflict" to uncover and dust off posts from past years that address these topics.
My present intent it to present a series of shorter essays that present one topic at a time.
Steiner extolled the lively child, the active child, the defiant child. In the fire of early childhood, Steiner foresaw the strength that would aid the child in work and life as an adult. Steiner did not, however, exhort us to give children free reign while we stood around, helpless, wondering when the angels drop down to tell us what to do. It be can be quizzical to maddening to liberating to read Steiner and notice the times he recommends intervention when I would not have thought of one and when he advises us to let things be when one might have thought of intervening. There is no exact formula. No exact recipe. Each child is unique. Again and again we are told to observe without judgment, and the inspiration will come to us.
I propose the following: for the next days or weeks, seek out a behavior of your child that seems annoying or upsetting. With as much fun as possible, create a scenario in your mind of your child as an adult, with this perhaps disturbing seed of early childhood serving as a strength. You may find it best to start with an easy one. You may find it easy to start with a difficult one and spin out a far-fetched fantasy (the world will change a lot in 20 years). Perhaps you will imagine or intuit things that can help guide the child's challenge into strength. Perhaps not. But even the gesture of making peace with the Now, the suchness of the moment, may bring pleasure, contentment, radiance, a winged chariot pulled by 2 pegasus (keep it fun and imaginative), and the like. This may be easy. It may not. Have fun either way.
Here I defy my inclination to compare this to multifarious processes from other educational and spiritual streams. Tell me how you fare. Expect more later.
With appreciation of your willingness to play,
William
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