Tagged: Community

A Focus on Subjective Well-Being at Work

There was a time when we in the western world didn’t understand the broad and overarching importance of well-being, especially in the workplace. A long time. 

Going to work has historically meant going…to…work, and expressly notgoing to fun, going to comfort, or going to enjoy yourself in any way, or going to enhance subjective well-being. Regrettably, I still hear people talking about their work, and their workdays, in ways that make me wonder how we can do better. 

Counting the minutes and thanking the heavens it’s Friday seems to be common practices in the modern workplace. 

On the other hand, I do regularly talk with people who make clear that they look forward to going to work. 

At school, I know lots of teachers, ancillary and support staff who consistently tell me they love, and are grateful for their jobs. Naturally, those people are also relationship-builders, risk takers and innovators. 

Whenever I’m in spaces with educators who talk about loving their jobs I see them (and the kids they serve) experiencing joy and balance. Kids’ at school, with adults who love their jobs, are generally increasingly interested and engaged. They connect and they collaborate. Together, they celebrate learning. 

My learning journey has let me to understand subjective well-being as synonymous with life satisfaction. How happy are you with you, personally and professionally? The answer to that questions speaks to your subjective well-being, and your well-being by any measure. Your well-being is an indicator of so much more, including physical health, longevity, social engagement, creativity and productivity.

Everyone lives within a range of emotions. We each feel happy, sad, angry, worried, and all the in betweens at different times. By happy I don’t mean smiling and skipping, I mean feeling good about about yourself overall. I mean being able to face challenges with confidence and resolve, and being able to celebrate triumphs (big and small) with genuine joy and gratitude.   

Subjective well-being is about how we feel when we wake up in the morning and when we go to sleep at night. It’s about how we interact with one another throughout the day. It’s about achieving our goals. It’s about how frequently we exercise, and the depth and frequency of our reflectivity and mindfulness. It’s about making choices that bring us positive outcomes. It’s about focusing on the positive while facing the negative with courage and resilience. It’s about hope, optimism and balance.

Ed Diener and Katherine Ryan wrote about subjective well-being in their article, “Subjective Well-Being: A General Overview.” In the article, they explore the impacts of subjective well-being on individuals and on communities. They point out, “…a growing body of research shows that high levels of subjective well-being are beneficial to the effective functioning of societies beyond the advantages they bestow on the individual.” (p. 392)

This notion suggests that we should not only be focused on our own well-being but also on the well-being of others. By regularly using tools and strategies like gratitude, kindness, compassion and reflection we can enhance our own experiences and the experiences of those we share the world with. 

When we perceive high levels of life satisfaction we tend to be more settled, more calm, more productive and more engaged. All of which brings increased positive contributions and balance to the communities in which we live and work. 

From a leadership perspective, focus on individual well-being is a clear path to a strengthened organizational well-being. Organizational leaders in all secures could enhance their practice by making a point to connected with employees, asking a very simply question, “Are you happy at work?”

If the answer is “no,” we have some good data and a positive pathway to do better. Follow up question would be, “Why do you think that is” and/or, “What would make the workplace a positive, rewarding place for you?”

Some people may know the answer, others may not. In either case, with a focus on well-being in the workplace, extending happiness, productivity and balance (both professionally and personally, and both individually and collectively), we can exhaust that dialogue and translate each reasonable finding in to action.

The bottom line is that a focus on subjective well-being for every individual and for all can enhance our work, our lives, and our contributions to enhanced lives of those around us. Increased well-being makes happier people. Happier people make a more peaceful, productive and joyful world, and that’s good. 

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

Breath In The Good, Breath Out The Bad

It’s been a week of family, friends, memories and love. 

Hard to believe it’s been a week since our Aunt passed. Time moves really slow and really fast simultaneously. 

Aunt Florine has us thoughtful and reflective. My initial tribute can be read here: Love, Love, Love…Love You More!

In recalling one of the many lessons Aunt Florine has imparted on the world, the wisdom of our Great Aunt Chili was evoked.

By the way, I think it was Plato who wrote something about passing twice. Something like, we pass twice, once when we stop breathing one once the last time someone thinks about or speaks our name. Something like that. 

It fills me with joy to write the name Aunt Chili. Talk about an incredible person and amazing woman. Aunt Chili walked this earth for a hundred and four and a half years. Spicy and uniquely Aunt Chili with every step!

Anyway, the lesson Aunt Chili passed along to Aunt Florine, that Aunt Florine then passed along to the rest of us is about breathing. 

Aunt Chili (and then Aunt Florine) said we should breath in the good and breath out the bad. 

In even more detail she said something like, we should breath in all the crisp, fresh, clean air we can. 

She said we should breath it in along with all the goodness we can think of. She said we should breath it in for as long as we can, and that we should fill our lungs with it. 

She said we should hold it in and let it move throughout our bodies. She said we should let it filter through the outer walls of our organs and flow through out blood. Something like that. 

Then (she said), we should let that crisp, fresh air release the good into our bodies and absorb anything bad we have floating around inside of us. 

She said we should let each particle of air latch on to any negative emotion, negative thought, confusion, and frustration.  She said we should let the bad cling to the breath we’ve brought in like dust to static. She said we should let as much bad collect on it before we expel it from our bodies. 

She said we should smile and feel calm, joyful and complete as we watch the bad dissipate and disappear. 

What’s more, she said we should do that as frequently as we can, and that we can do it whenever we want. 

Anyway, she said something like that. 

And why not? I can’t think of a reason not to believe breathing in the good and breathing out the bad is a good idea. What harm could it do? When I try it, every time I try it…it works. 

Try it now if you’d like. Try it, and really see it happening as you do. 

That’s the key. Visualize the good and visualize the bad. See the particles of air carrying all that stuff. In with the good and out with the bad.

It can’t be the first time you’ve heard someone give this advice. Our breath is so incredibly powerful if we let it be. 

Time moves so slow and so fast, simultaneously. How do you want to spend the moments you have? How are you going to spend those moments?

You can’t go back. You can’t do anything differently than what you’ve done. What you can do is make sure every moment counts. The next one, and the the one after that. One at a time. 

As long as we’re breathing, we can use our breath to enhance our lives. At least that’s what I heard.

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks. 

Let’s Never Allow Hate To Be Normalized Again

Today I chaperoned our 13 year-old’s Sunday school field trip to the Holocaust Museum. 

We gathered with the Rabbi to prep before leaving the synagogue. She came bearing food, as all good Rabbi’s do. A variety of tasty muffins helped set a foundation of comfort and a positive affects we took the moment to ground ourselves in contemplativeness (which I’m almost certain is a word).

The Rabbi asked us (adults and teens) to individually consider what it means to be Jewish today and throughout history. She told us there’s no right answer. She said each us would likely walk out of the museum with thoughts and feelings uniquely our own. 

She suggested we talk with one another, with fiends and family, that we ask questions and  that we take time to process. She urged us to be present and reflective. 

As we drove I asked asked our son what he knew about the Holocaust, what he hoped to learn and how he felt. He was thoughtful in his response. He let me know he was looking forward to learning more. I’m very proud of the young man he’s become. 

We didn’t talk much during the tour. Every so often he pointed to a picture or some other artifact, quietly and confidently letting me know about a realization he was having or an epiphany that had shifted his thinking. He was so mature and composed. 

I tried to front load him as we approached each exhibit. I check in regarding his comfort level multiple times. He maintained that he was fine and wanted got keep going, keep learning, and continue looking through this lens of his own history. 

Early propaganda, discrimination and hate, disbelief and confusion, policies of oppression, the ghettos, the uprisings, the many heroic “upstanders” who risked their lives to save the lives of others, the many who turned a blind eye, the parallels to so much tragedy still being perpetuated in our world today, the camps, and the chambers. This was a to contemplate; for both of us. We will undoubtedly be processing together for some time. 

Our tour ended in front of Ann Frank’s picture and story. A story she lived she wrote down when she was just about his age. 

In the short years she spent alive on this earth, Ann Frank somehow had the wisdom, insight and foresight to write of a chestnut tree outside her window, “From my favorite spot on the floor, I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree whose branches little raindrops shine, appearing like silver.”

We each have a unique vision of the world. A vision based on the complex amalgam of who we are, coupled with our lived experiences in any given moment. 

Ann Frank’s vision…the beautiful, complex and simple way in which she saw the world, a world that we literally crumbling in and around her…was her hope. It was her guide and her salvation. It was her enduring and critical message. 

She wrote, “What is done cannot be undone, but one can prevent it happening again. I don’t think of all the misery but of the beauty that still remains. Whoever is happy will make others happy too.”

Michigan’s Holocaust Museum was gifted a sapling from the very tree that stood within sight of Ann Frank’s “favorite spot on the floor.” That sapling grows in the museum’s courtyard. It’s pictured above. 

Today, our son and I had a chance to look at that sapling. A living, connected artifact that had been looked at by Ann Frank. One that inspired her to the indelible outcomes she achieved.  

I stared. I couldn’t look away. An electric current ran through my body. I was viscerally aware that the unthinkable tragic events of the Holocaust, while deeply important to myself, my child and every Jew, connected to our individual and collective identities, were among a myriad of similarly tragic events that continue to plague our word. Not the least of which (and uncontrollable present in my mind in that moment) is the history of slavery in the United States and the western world.

One of our community members asked the Rabbi what we can do to make sure this never happens again. With a deep breath and a comforting smile she told offend that we must never allow hate to be normalized. She said while we can’t each move mountains, when we each take care of pebbles in this way, the world can change. 

So, next time you hear a discriminatory statement issued about a person with a disability, see a person being judged by the color of his skin, or witness someone suffering at the hands of others on the basis of her identity, do all you can to not let hate be normalized. 

Resist hate. Do it careful, compassionately and with grace. Do it with an open heart and an open mind. Remember, the beauty still remains. The beauty always remains. 

For our ancestors, for ourselves and for our children…for our history and for the future of our world, let’s never let hate be normalized again.

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks.

The Amazing Human Being – Truly a Miracle!

I was walking with our eight year-old the other day. We were downtown in Detroit. It was sunny. Winter was almost behind us. It was one of those Michigan moment when the coats come off and you’re compelled to be outside.

Loads of people were taking advantage of the beautiful day. I remembered these moment from my childhood. Walking around the city, feeling the connectivity and the rush of energy these streets so effortlessly provide.

He looked at me and asked, “Hey Daddy?”

I answered, “Yes, Sir?”

He said, “I was thinking…”

I replied, “Uh Huh.”

He continued, “It’s amazing that human beings exists and that we are what we are.”

I dug in, ”What do you mean?”

With thoughtful enthusiasm he told me all about it. Turns out, the kid views our existence as miraculous. He made some sense, too.

Albert Einstein said, “Live your life as if nothing is a miracle or as if everything is a miracle.”

I think the latter might be the way.

Our eight year-old is a thinker. He’s incredibly reflective. This isn’t the first time he’s opened my eyes. Every little thing. It is pretty incredible.

Why, then, is it so difficult for me to be grateful all the time?

I do have gratitude. It’s just that it tends to show up around majestic, magnificent moments. Beautiful sunsets, the birth of my children, huge, life changing events like when the Spartans make the Sweet Sixteen, and so on. Great moments indeed, but at closer examination…aren’t all moments miraculous?

What about every time we interact with one another? What if every time one human being had an interaction with another human being they both considered it miraculous? What if each time we connect we do so with intentionally, savoring the moments we get to spend together, listening with open-minded curiosity, and seeking to learn?

April is Autism Awareness month.

As the principal of a school with a categorical AIA program I’m keenly aware of the incredible impact children diagnosed with Autism can have on the learning, growth and strengthening of a community. As we move into April I think we can take the very important lesson our youngest taught me to heart.

Human beings are Amazing. Tall human beings, short human beings, musical human beings, athletic human beings, neurodivergent human beings, neurotypical human beings, human being who are shy, human beings who are outgoing, and every human being in between.

This seems like a really good time to be thoughtful and intentional about living our lives as if everything is a miracle. In fact, maybe it’s always a good time!

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead. Thanks!

Emotional Support Plant

We were watching the movie “Sing 2” this weekend. In one scene, Miss Crawly (Buster Moon’s secretary) was driving to the country to locate and recruit the famous, hermitic, aging rock star Clay Calloway. Buster Moon and his cast of characters needed Clay in order to be able to put on a big show in the big city, but Clay was not easy to find, nor would he be easy to convince. Miss Crawly had set out on a seemingly insurmountable mission. 

As we watched her drive down the winding country road, we noticed that there was something in the passenger seat of Miss Crawly’s car. After a moment I realized it was the fruit basket Buster Moon sent with his secretary as a piece of the puzzle to try to win over Mr. Calloway. I pointed it out. Our 7 year-old matter-of-factly said, “Oh, I thought it was her emotional support plant.”

He never fails to amaze me. I don’t know where he heard the phrase “emotional support plant”, why he remembered it, or how he made the connection, but it was a reasonable thought. Miss Crawly was in a very difficult position. Sure, “Sing 2” is a piece of fiction and Miss Crawly is an imaginary, anthropomorphized elderly lizard, but she was dealing with some really tough stuff. She might have needed an emotional support plant.

Like Miss Crawly, parents and educators are dealing with some really tough stuff right now. Also like Miss Crawly, we are showing tremendous grit. We are resilient and determined, and we are pushing through challenge after challenge for the benefit of our kids. Instead of emotional support plants, we have one another. 

I like the idea of an emotional support plant. Plants are steady and stable, and if you take care of them, they thrive. We need to be taking care of one another. We are here for one another. We need to remember that we are not alone, and that we can only weather the ebbs and flows of this uniquely challenging time hand in hand, and heart in heart.

The best thing we can do for one another is be present and available. We’ve been doing a great job of providing our kids days filled with joy and balance, in large part because we’ve been doing the same for each other. These days are not always easy, however, each one is an opportunity for learning and growth. Once again, our kids remind us of what’s important. The emotional support we provide for one another is the foundation for everything else. Our partnerships are the key to our well-being and our progress.

Thanks for reading…in it together for the kids!

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead.

You Can Tell Me What The Speed Limit Is

A Scenario 

We were in the car the other day. It was a great day. It was one of those days we spent together from start to finish. Everyone got along. The 7 and the 8 year-old started playing immediately. It’s not that they never do this, but sometimes they wake up at odds. Sometimes one want’s to go downstairs and the other wants to stay upstairs. Sometimes one wants to watch a cartoon and other wants to watch a baking challenge. Sometimes one wants some space and the other wants to wrestle. 

This time, they hopped out of bed and got right to it. The 7 year-old was in our bed because he got up a bit early, but right when his big sister woke up she came to get him. She asked if he waned to play and this time he did. The stars aligned. They spent the next hour or so in their bedroom; imagining, laughing, encouraging and playing. 

After breakfast we decided to take a day trip. It was book stores, playgrounds, soccer balls, basketball and jump rope. We told stories, played games and had fun. 

There we were, on our way to another location for more family fun, when he turned to her and said, “You know, you should live with me when we grow up. That way, when we’re driving around in the car you can tell me what the speed limit is.” 

Keen. Even though he’s 7 years-old I’m confident he knows that the speed limit is posted. In that moment I had the sneaking suspicion he was actually telling his big sister that he loves her. I suspect he was giving her some insight into the joy he feels that they have one another, the understanding he has of their unconditional bond, and the vision he holds of their connected life. I don’t know that he actually believes they’ll live together, but it seems that he believes they will alway be friends, confidants, playmates and partners in life. It was a nice moment for me. 

I grew up with five siblings, each of us less than two years apart in age. Lorelei and I have been incredibly blessed to be able to build our family in this way. In large part, we planned for four close-in-age siblings so that they would each have the others for a lifetime of comfort, support, encouragement, celebration and unconditional love. 

Siblings don’t always get along. Heck, we don’t always like one another. There are ebbs and flows. However, in my experience, there is never a time…not a single moment, when siblings are not connected. I believe that anyone of us would tell any of the others what the speed limit is anytime there’s a need, without hesitation. 

My heart was warmed to hear the big guy connect with his sister in that way. 

Two Possible Implications

We’re on winter break. Life is really busy and really challenging right now. It’s difficult to keep our kids’ days filled with routine, normalcy and comfort. We see the trends and we hear the news. On all fronts, from community health to politics we need to navigate decision making for ourselves and for our kids, while providing them with just the right developmentally appropriate information to keep them balanced, reflective and joyful. They are kids, after all. Even in an imperfect world, they should be joyful. 

Consider the following possible implications drawn from the scenario above: 

Long-term social bonds are critically important to our kids’ well-being. 

As we guide our kids through the strange social landscape of a pandemic we should keep an eye on their friendships. Whether we’re looking at friendships between siblings, other relatives, school friends or kids in the neighborhood, we should notice and encourage our kids to perpetuate healthy bonds between themselves and those they connect with. We should help them make time to spend together. When needed, we should guide them in social conflict resolution while reminding them of the joy they feel when they are together with people they appreciate and understand, who also appreciate and understand them.

Our kids prompt one another, and us. 

This time, the 7 year-old prompted his sister to continue connecting with him. Sometimes the prompt is that he needs space. Kids do this to one another and they do this to us. As a grown up he will easily be able figure out what the speed limit is without assistance. They both know this, but he wanted her to know he needs, and will continue to need her. 

We should keep an eye on the language our kids use with one another and with us, so that we can support their needs in any given moment. When kids ask for our help with things they know how to do or can handle on their own they may simply be asking for some time together, or an acknowledgement of the bond we share with them. They may be reaching out with a message of togetherness or a request for comfort. Reading and responding to such prompts is well worth the time, every time. 

An Activity

What implications do you see? What learning can you discern from this scenario? Take a moment to reflect and consider a parenting/education guiding principle the “speed limit” anecdote brings to light. Share your thinking, with me or with anyone you turn to for processing along this unique and wonderful journey. You can use the “comments” section below if you’re so inclined. There is meaning to be found in even the smallest moments. Look and listen with an open heart and on open mind.

Thanks for reading…in it together for the kids.

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead.

Don’t Yuck Someone Else’s Yum

We were sitting at the dinner table the other day when a dish was served that was beyond the ability for our pickier eaters to understand. I don’t remember if there were onions on a burger or tomatoes on a slice of pizza. Regardless, our 7-year-old was digging in with a huge smile on his face. Yum, yum, yum.

After a few bites he turned to one of his big brothers and offered a taste. The offer he was met with a wrinkled up face and a reply laden with pure disgust. Yuck, yuck, yuck.

The little guy quickly fired back with, “Don’t yuck someone else yum.”

I stopped in my tracks. 

“Don’t yuck someone else’s yum.” I love it. 

This time it applied to food, but that’s not the foundation of the message. I found out later that he learned if from his incredible first grade teacher. It means just what you think it means. 

We all have different tastes, we all have different views of the world, and while there are some universal joys we experience, we are each unique. We are all always well served when we recognize, support, encourage and celebrate one another. When our minds and hearts are open, our connections are genuine. When our connections are genuine, we are strong. 

So, don’t yuck someone else’s yum. Instead, lift them up, let them know you value them even if you don’t agree or understand. Build collective strength for the benefit and wellbeing of both of you. Strong, happy people perpetuate strong, happy communities…and that benefits everyone.

Thanks for reading…in it together for the kids!

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead.

Breathe. All We Have Is Now. Relax. UR OK.

Breathe. All we have is now. Relax. UR OK.

This is the message on one of the many sculptures along the path of “The Walk of Art” sculpture park (“Art Rapids”) in our lovely downtown Elk Rapids – about five minutes from the farm. If you’re a northern Michigan enthusiast and you haven’t been to the sculpture park, I recommend you put it on the itinerary for an upcoming trip. It’s wonderful. 

One of the features of the park are these intermittent offshoots of roadsigns, with messages of hope, love and inspiration. One is a stop sign that reads, “Start” instead of “Stop.”

Another is a “One Way” sign that’s not rectangular but heart-shaped, indicating that the only way is love.

Still another articulates the foundational message of this post. 

Breathe. All we have is now. Relax. UR OK.

I like the message, and given that I’ve always viewed life as a journey, I like that it’s being broadcast from a road sign in this case.

Another important feature of the park (at least during our visit a few weekends ago) was an overwhelming multitude of what I’ve come to learn are called Oak Leafrolllers. 

Oak Leafrollers are the tiny green worms that hang by threads of silk from oak trees. During this particular trip to the park it was as if we were transported into an Oak Leafroller obstacle coarse. They were everywhere.

The more we focused on the little tree climbing critters the more they seemed to multiply. We realized that they were on our clothes and in our hair. As we walked on we felt them on our arms and worried that they were getting into our ears and mouths. Phantom tickles and itches overtook us.

We began to duck and run. Then we rolled and crawled through the pathways of the woods like highly skilled military operatives. Finally, we ran faster then ever before, bobbing and weaving as we went. Occasionally one of us would grab another, sometimes dropping to the ground, frantically wiping and patting the other clean from these great green silk monsters before scrambling to our feet to flee some more. 

Some of us were laughing with such uncontrolled enthusiasm that tears were streaming down our faces (that was primarily me and Lorelei – some proud parenting moments), while others had streaming tears as a result of the deep, genuine and unabashed fear-based crying they had succumb to in the face of this newfound tiny-worm terror (the kids were getting pretty excited about the sheer volume of leafrollers – the woods were dense with them). It was pretty close to utter chaos by the time we reached the car.

What’s worse, the leafrollers had sent battalions of their kinsmen to cover our car while we were fighting for dear life to avoid them on the forest battlefield. 

We had to expertly navigate our way into the vehicle without letting them overtake us (of heaven forbid, get inside). The danger persisted. Some hung on for dear life as we drove away. We promised the kids that the wind would blow the rest off. It didn’t. We watched through the windows in terror as the strongest and most persistent among them clung on, taunting us the entire way to the farm. 

In the end we survived the vicious attack of completely harmless, tiny little bugs to whom we were not doubt the most menacing, hideous and gigantic creatures imaginable…but only by the skin of our teeth.

Later, I looked them up on the internet. Turns out, collectively, they’re described as a nuisance. Curious. Really they’re just trying to eat some oak leaves, build cocoons, and morph miraculously into moths. 

I wondered if maybe we were actually the collective nuance in this particular situation. You know, because we ran around screaming at them, swatting them with sticks, swiping them around, ripping them from their silk lifelines and violently disrupting their beautiful, natural course with unfettered  rage. Just a wonder I had. 

It made me think about perspective. As parents and educators we often find ourselves in situations that are frustrating, and even unsettling. The Great Berg Oak Leafroller Battle of 2021 reminded me that thoughtful, compassionate reflection can serve us, and those around us well. 

When we take the time and make the effort to relax into the moments of our lives, whether or not we understand them immediately, we seem more likely to be able to enlist our capacity for calm, and as a result, we seem more likely to navigate the ebbs and the flows with strength and empathy. 

Whether we’re being attached by tiny floating worms or facing the bumpy road of child raising, calm hearts and minds tend to win the day, for all involved.

So as we continue together, if you can…breathe. All we have is now, and if you are able…relax. UR OK.

Thank you for reaching…in it together for the kids!

Live. Love. Listen. Learn. Lead.

Each In Our Own Way (An Equity-Based Reflection On Helping Our Children Connect With, Appreciate And Love Those Who Look, Think, And Act In Vastly Different Ways From Them)

*The names I’m using in this reflection are not the actual names of any children involved. I’m using alternate names to protect privacy. 

Confusion, Worry And Fear

A few weeks into the new school year our youngest child, a six-year-old starting first grade, came home from school with a troubled mind. I could see that he was deep in thought. As we went about our typical after school routine he presented as worried and distracted. 

Before long he asked if he could speak with me alone. We went outside together, where he began to reluctantly unfold a story of two children at his school with special needs. As he told me about the kids, tears formed in his eyes.

First he told me about being scared. In his words, he said that Brandon was aggressive on the playground. He told me that he sees Brandon approaching kids and insisting on playing with them in ways that frightened him. 

He said that Brandon gets physical with kids; that he uses his hands and his body in ways that make him nervous and uncomfortable; that Brandon communicates in ways that are different from how the typically functioning kids he’s used to playing with communicate, and that he’s worried about having to confront the potential eventuality of Brandon approaching him on the playground. In his way, he asked for permission to not have to engage with Brandon as school.

Knowing our child, I could see the internal struggle that this ask, and this need presented for him. He’s an empathic, compassionate person. I could see him wishing he didn’t feel this way, feeling bad about himself, and feeling bad for Brandon. 

My Brain Won’t Let Me 

Next he told me about Marvin. He told me that Marvin is in his class. He said he could see that Marvin needs friends but doesn’t have any. He told me he’s not scared of Marvin because Marvin doesn’t behave in ways that frighten him, but in ways that demonstrate his struggles with communication and socialization. He told me that he thinks he could be the friend Marvin needs, but that whenever he thinks about becoming Marvin’s friend, his brain won’t let him. 

No two children are the same. That said, most children’s unique qualities don’t overtly differentiate them from the group. At least not in the eyes their peers. Most children, regardless of gender, learning style, energy level, interests, developmental readiness, capacity for age-appropriate communication, and lived experiences don’t stand out in ways that make them unapproachable. Brandon and Marvin are both visibly unique from most other kids. 

As parents, guardians and educators, we can tune in to subtle and explicit differences between children. Children, with their concrete, relatively inexperienced world views, tend to be less adept at identifying subtle differences, and they tend to be hyper aware of explicit ones. 

To no fault of their own, children tend to notice when other children behave in ways that appear “out of the ordinary,” and because they don’t have the knowledge or experience to process why a peer would look and sound so different, they can easily fall into worry and even fear around socializing with kids who they identify as acutely different.

Our child’s description of the struggle he’s experiencing around wanting, and attempting to support a friend with special needs (“my brain won’t let me”), tells us a lot about a critical and persistent social emotional challenge felt by all of children.

We know that, like our child, both Brandon and Marvin need to experience genuine friendships. We know that developing genuine friendships with people who present as different from us, whether vastly or subtly, is mutually beneficial. 

We also know that diminishing classroom, school and community cultures can quickly and easily (while often unknowingly and inadvertently) be built around kids who’s communication and behavior are outside of the norm. This is an incredibly important point for parents, guardians and educators to be aware of as we work hard to listen to and guide our children around challenges that surface at school. 

When children come home with negative reports and concerns about their peers, we can help them focus on an “each in our own way” lens by exploring context with them. We can remind them that each person views the world in a unique way, based on who they are and what they’ve experienced, and that our abilities and world-views tend to guide our thoughts, feelings and actions. 

We can teach them that we’re all learning all the time, and that generally, people want to do good things and be nice. When our friends aren’t being their best selves it can often be because they don’t know how, or because they’re hurting. Sometimes it’s challenging, but patience, understanding and kindness can help.

Positive classroom, school and community cultures can lift kids up and build bridges to health and achievement, while negative classroom, school and community cultures, pointedly focused on the expressions and actions of a particular child, can deteriorate that child’s self image, limit their potential, and engrain increased worry and fear in others. 

Fortunately, as parents, guardians and educators, we have the power to perpetuate change in this area, to build paradigms of understanding around diversity, to help our children uncover the inherent foundations of compassion that exist within each of them, to drive equity, and in doing so, to enhance their lives and the world in which we all live.

Not Answers…Opportunities

When we teach our children to embrace diversity, to move toward rather than away from that which is different and/or unknown to them, to be reflective in their processing of communication and interactions with others, to consider multiple perspectives, to seek understanding (even through worry and fear), and to pull from kindness where frustration persists, we give them opportunities to expand their horizons. 

When we guide children through problem solving in any area we provide them with safe, supportive spaces to grapple with specific challenges.  When we give children safe, supportive spaces to grapple with specific challenges we provide them with experiences that can support the development of their ability to grapple with other challenges. 

Children become better problem solvers when they have our permission to work on solving the problems that are in front of them. Along with that permission, they benefit from our support, our love and our guidance.

A Solid Foundation For A Lifelong Journey

Our child continues to tell me that he’s nervous around Brandon and that he still hasn’t approached Marvin or become his friend. He also continues to tell me that he thinks he can be the friend that Marvin needs. 

The other day he told me that he thinks the first step will be introducing himself. He said, “We’ve never even met…maybe if we met we would become friends.”  He’s outlined multiple pathways to officially meeting Marvin, from asking his teacher to introduce them to approaching him on the playground. He continues to grapple and I continue to support. 

I don’t have the answers. While I hope they do, they may never become friends. I nudge but I don’t push. I listen and I affirm the reality of swirling emotions. I don’t know how to ease the intensity of those emotions or impart a sense of comfort around this or any of the multitude of difficult childhood challenges. 

I do know that every child is living a life in which developing skills of compassion, along with the skills needed to communicate, collaborate, and otherwise engage with one another, is a potential pathway to increased joy and balance for them and for those who they meet along the way. 

I know that we serve children well when we drive cultures of acceptance in our classrooms, school and communities, and aid our children in understanding that they can and should love and embrace others, even those who behave in ways that confuse and worry them. 

When we help them see that the personalities, inherent capacities and lived experiences of those around them contribute to their thoughts, feelings and actions, we help them put behavior into context and better manage their  interactions and relationships.

As with all challenging journeys, the complex pathways of supporting our children’s positive progress and well-being are long and winding, they’re sometimes shrouded in mist, and they’re often confusing. I would suggest that an “each in our own way” lens is solid foundation for achieving healthy outcomes, for them and for us.

Some Strategies For Coping With Anxiety

This is a uniquely challenging time. We’ve been engaged in a new type of uncertainty for a while now. Information comes in waves, and often in pieces. Parents, guardians and educators have been charged with putting those pieces together day by day and moment by moment…and to our credit, we’ve done so in ways that have kept our kids safe and balanced. It has not been easy task.

If you’re like me you have good moments and not so good moments. Some of the questions we have to ask ourselves have no “right” answers and some of the directions we have to go in have really winding roads, with hazards that are shrouded in mist until they’re directly in front of us. 

If you’re like me you’ve been able to celebrate some wonderful successes over the days, the weeks, and the years…and you also stumble, fumble, crash hard into walls and find yourself filled with worry at times. Our kids are everything. Keeping them safe, healthy and learning is priority number one.

For us, and for our kids, these strange days come along with increased levels of stress. Anxiety is real and it’s present at varying degrees among adults and children alike. As we walk this path together, I would suggest that staying mindful of the presence of anxiety in ourselves and in the kids we serve is one way to perpetuate the safety, health and learning.

I came across this TED Talk the other night. It focuses on coping with anxiety. This is the link: How to cope with anxiety (Olivia Remes) 

The message may resonate with you or it may not. I understand that while we are all living through a pandemic, we’re each living experiences that are unique to us. Whether or not you identify with Remes’ message, I believe the strategies she outlines can provide fodder for reflection, and possibly some tools to help as you work to find joy and balance in these uncertain days, for you and for your kids.

Do It Badly

It’s easy to get stuck under the weight of these intense challenges. We want so badly to do things the “right” way for our selves and for our kids. We want, and we need to get it “right” so intensely that sometimes it’s difficult to put one foot in front of the other. When that happens, we can try to remember that taking action, even if we get it “wrong” at first, can be better than staying in a rut. Remes suggests that one way to mitigate the anxiety of any moment is to plow forward. Take action. When you set yourself in motion you can give yourself momentum. One foot in front of the other. If you can muster the strength, get started and adjust along the way.

Forgive Yourself

No one is perfect. As we struggle with the challenges associated with really tough times and uncomfortable feelings, we experience ebbs and flows. In order to make it through the ebbs and into the flows we’ve got to treat ourselves with kindness. When you stumble, fumble, crash into walls and worry, shake it off as quickly as possible. Show yourself the grace that’s needed to keep moving forward. Don’t dwell in the past. Don’t dwell in any moment. If you can practice forgiving yourself for the missteps, you may find that the positive steps forward come with greater ease and efficiency.

Find Meaning by Helping Others

While self-care is critically important for our well-being, it can also be important to take breaks from a focus on ourselves in order to find, and truly experience meaning, especially when high levels of stress turn that focus to the negative, which can be frequently during uniquely challenging times. We can find strength in the compassionate work we’re doing for our kids and for one another. When we lift one another up and hone in on spreading joy with kindness and intentionality, we tend to feel enhanced positive emotion, which has the power to mitigate some of the harmful, anxiety producing impacts of the layers of trauma that exist within and all around us. 

In many ways, we’re living through the same “storm,” however, we’re each doing so in “boats” that are unique to our specific experiences. These strategies may be easier for some to enact and more difficult for others. You may find them connected to your world view and you may not. My hope is that, whatever you’re experiencing and however your responding those experiences, Remes’ suggestions can bring you some pause for reflection, some confront in the “storm,” and some ability to work through the particular challenges you’re facing, on behalf of yourself, each other and the kids we serve. 

Don’t forget that you’re surrounded by people who care. There is strength in community. As you reflect on your daily practice and on your progress, remember that we are always stronger together. Turn to those around you for support, practice projecting grace in every direction along the way, and stay in motion. The truth is, we’re doing incredible things…and we got this!