Tag Archives: teacher as transformer

The Establishment

I wrote this poem when I was in high school, so some 50 years ago about the time I wrote Angry Young Poet. I updated both poems several years ago, but the underlying theme was evident in the orginals and I tried to keep that in mind in editing.

I found both poems as part of handwritten notes I dug through one weeked while Kathy was away. What struck me was how little things change. In fact, I might argue things are more entrenched than ever; the rich got richer and the poor poorer. One only has to consider the enormous wealth being accumlated by billionaires during the multiple crises we are experiencing.

Multiple crises, health, economic, and social justice, might give us room to re-imagine the world we want for our children and grandchildren. Instead, I am afraid we are more entrenched in our binary positions. Despite this, I hold out hope, not optimism and positivity, that we can begin the process of transforming the world to make it more democratic, socially just, and equitable. Part of my writing is revisiting an article I published in 2012 called Rocky River: Building a Learning Organization to re-imagine how we might educate children, youth, and adults. I begin re-imagining with a simple shift in language and call those engaged in teaching and learning educands a word Paulo Freire used in Pedagogy of Hope: Revisiting Pedagogy of the Oppressed.

More broadly, we can apply the learning organization’s principles to other institutions. Peter Senge cautioned it is hard work and takes time. Unlike other revolutionaries, Freire stated incremental change, based on dialogue between humans, was essential to transforming the world. Although Senge does not draw on Freire’s dialogic model, he suggests dialogue, with deep and caring listening, is at the heart of transforming institutions.

They know best for the rest–

Indoctrinating,

Not transforming,

Recalling non-existent good old days.

In disagreeing–

Simply wrong-headedness,

Daring to rebel:

Who are we to question?

Having it made–

Hunting and gathering,

Material wealth signaling success,

Repress, suppress, oppress.

Depending them to know best.

Maintaining existing order,

Demanding blind loyalty,

Failing to practice what preach.

I re-worded the poem again. I see how little changed in 50 years. Without a picture, I thought of which blues musician might best convey my message. I immediately thought of Nina Simone, who sings with edge. When I play her songs for undergrads, those with backgrounds of privilege demonstrate a visible level of discomfort.

 

Sun Set Tree

The same day Kathy took the picture for my post Time to Rest she took this picture of a single tree standing against the horizon as the sun set. She called it the sun set tree.

This spring and summer has been cool and dreary with many days below average for temperature and with. Yesterday, we began to turn the corner with some heat that is supposed to continue for at least a week. If we wait, the sun comes out and warms things up. For growth to occur, we need rain. As the heat takes hold and the sun does it job, a little rain must fall.

The same applies to our lives. We conflate passion and love. Passion contains love. It also holds moments of sorrow and pain. Compassion is sharing the good, the not-so-good, and refraining from doing harm to other sentient and non-sentient beings. We cannot go it alone. Nature teaches us about the essential idea of inter-being, a concept Thich Nhat Hanh writes about. Being mindful of Nature’s teaching gives insight into how we might inter-be with and in the world. It is not always clear. Into our lives a little rain will fall and there will cloudy days to help produce the sun and growth.

 

Sentinel stands guard;

Blurry silhouette.

Against leaden backdrop;

Appearing lonely.

Gently smiling sun;

Sharing tentative rays.

Receiving warming glow;

Gathering to grow.

Revealing that hidden by shadows;

Stretching boldly.

Smiling with Brother Sun;

Sharing sacred moments.

In a time where social inequity has been laid bare in incredibly visible ways, brought out of the shadows, we need to think, not about what privilege we might lose, but about how we can help each other be lifted up, particularly the most oppressed amongst us. I listened to Simon and Garfunkel growing up and enjoyed The Sound of Silence. This cover is my favourite version and reminds us we need prophets to write words on the subway walls.

Time to Rest

Kathy took this picture on a trip out to the farm several years ago. Her and others spent the day cleaning up the farmhouse and, as they finished, the sun made an appearance. It had been a gloomy day.

Sometimes, we feel this way in whatever we do as much as we might love it and feel called to it. I remember days in the classroom when I felt I inhabited a gloomy world. I love teaching and learning. They are parts of what make me whole and I think, to paraphrase Parker Palmer, make us each larger than life. When we love doing something or being in a particular relationships, we find voice and those things are inseparable from who we each are. On those gloomy days, it is essential to remind myself to be mindful and give thanks for the sunlight that shines into my life.

Fleetingly framed,

Golden skyline on horizon,

Invisble hand painting.

Thankful moment,

Golden light awash,

Bringing end to day.

Open Heart; Open Mind

Even in a metropolitan region of over a million people, Nature is visible. Nature immerses humans in ways that we can take-for-granted. Several years ago, I stepped out of the house and was greeted by the Moon in an early morning sky and the morning star was just above it. It is not a great picture, but reminded me of the rewards when I open my eyes, heart, and mind. Miracles exist; I only have to be open to them.

Nature awaiting

Quietly revealing self

Opening whole self.

As well, we are fortunate to have a large river, the North Saskatchewan, running through the heart of Edmonton. Its Cree name is kisiskâciwanisîpiy meaning swift current and its Blackfoot name is omaka-ty meaning big river. I took this picture during one of many walks in the valley, looking into the centre of the city. I presents a contrast between what we think of as progress and how Nature still exists within our understanding of this progress.

Seeing what one wants,

Hearing what one chooses,

Opening one’s whole self.

Beholding Nature’s gifts,

Holding close,

Hiding, only if one chooses.

Bridge

The Canadian educator Ted Aoki wrote about a “bridge that is not a bridge.” We use bridge as a verb, moving us ahead to make the world a better, more just and democratic place. In this sense, bridge becomes a metaphor. There is no actual structure and experience to guide us through challenges we face.

John Lewis wrote a book called Across that Bridge: A Vision of Change and the Future of America. Again, I propose his bridge is not a physical structure either. But, physical bridge provides insight into myriad emotions at play as transformational change happens. In these moments, we put faith and trust in others and things we cannot see, only hope for. We reach out to hold each others hands, understanding the shared meaning of (com)passion. In these moments we share (com-) the joy and suffering (passion) of one another.

Today, as I prepared to post, I came across this poem and accompanying picture. For many, this bridge is not daunting. For me, fear is front and centre as I cross. When we crossed this bridge, I reminded myself to take it one step at a time. Transformational change counts on us taking it one step at a time, as we share journeys with one another. We will each experience loss and gain in different ways. At the end of it, what we share is being human and becoming more human with each ensuing step.

Standing on the edge,

Abyss yawning,

Taking a first step.

Forming compassion,

Crafting wisdom,

Forgiving one another.

Transforming world,

Each carrying one’s weight.

Reaching out to others.

Taking the next first step,

Trusting one’s self,

And, others in the human journey.

Just Visiting

I was on a conference call when I took this picture and was limited in my movements. I took the picture through the window and tried to get to the door, but it was gone before I even got it open a crack. I think it is a western northern flicker woodpecker, but am not 100% sure. It is the first time I recall one showing up in my backyard.

I am unsure why the ashtray was a landing-place. Maybe it looked a bit like a nest. Or, it had a bit of water to drink. It was not used, so it was used that day. It had been raining, so it might be a protected spot out of wet and wind. This is a reminder of the old house and its memories.

Today, a visitor calls–

Pausing,

Lighting down,

Escaping wind and wet.

Making right to home–

Glancing to and fro,

Window framing,

Keeping me at bay.

I move to greet–

Suddenly, slipping away

Leaving, quickly as arrived

Withou bidding adieu.

A Half a Dragonfly Is Fine

I took this picture while at the retreat I posted about the other day. It picture out better than others. I had trouble with the sun over my shoulder; pretty good excuse. Initially, I was disappointed because the dragonfly posed and cooperated. In retrospect, the title says it all and the moment was a lesson in living.

As I mentioned, the retreat was a great experience. I reminded my self it is OK to be imperfect. I am human with that. The dragonfly showed up and shared a quiet moment with me; for that I am grateful.

Lighting down,

Oh, so gently.

Posing,

Oh, so perfectly.

He spoke;

He really did!

“Take my picture please

My time almost done

My memorial moment.”

Posing ever so gracefully,

As if expressing gratitude,

Sharing a momentous moment,

Done, we each took leave–

Jobs nearly complete.

We each are learning about who we are in life. Living is a gerund and, as result, is an unfolding and becoming we are always experiencing. I think this is best said in the poem of Derek Walcott, Love After Love. It is in accepting our imperfections we come to love the self who continuously emerges.

Sabbath – Making One’s Self More Human

It has been a while since I wrote about the concept of Sabbath where I disconnect to reconnect. I allude to it in The Greater Scheme. It is a practice I am trying to get back into on a regular basis. Wendell Berry writes poetry on the theme and Wayne Muller wrote Sabbath: Finding Rest, Renewal and Delight in Our Busy Lives. It is taking a pause.

Muller cuts across demoninations, traditions, faiths, and philosophies. I used it at a retreat several years ago. There were people who did not see themselves as religious or bound to a particular tradition. What we are often looking for is a spiritual space to heal, make whole. Heal and whole share an etymological root.

Too often, in a busy world, we forget to slow down. Hannah Arendt wrote the Ancient Greeks leaned towards contemplation (vita comtemplativa), while in modern society we remain forever in motion (vita activa). Neither is healthy; health shares the same etmology with whole and heal.

Parker Palmer, drawing on Thomas Merton, proposes we bring harmony between the two. It is a way of feeling at home, the core of who we each are and where we belong. The word hearth, which is the heart of our home, shares etymology with heal, whole, and health.

The poem and picture in the post The Greater Scheme was taken as part of a walking meditation activity, where the teacher asked us to look at the world as if through new eyes. It is, when I am in harmony with myself, I am most creative. At the same time, I was involved in a monthly conference call with critical friends and was interviewed about some work I did related to mindful servant-leadership as it applied to teaching. I think the peaceful feeling I felt emerged from the silence and solitude at the retreat, the critical exploring of my self, and the creative work I was engaged in at the time.

Spacious, silence, solitude…

Seeking refuge,

A peaceful room.

Lovingkindness discovers–

A heart breaks open,

The present its own reward.

Silently spirit revealing–

Speaking,

Softly, gently, tenderly,

Begging its quiet voice be heard.

Solace seeks me–

Unmarked path emerging,

A step at a time.

Sabbath–

Wisdom revealing itself,

Making more human.

I took this picture on a hike into Kootenai Lake in Glacier National Park earlier that summer. We saw a handful of people and the hike was peaceful, disconnecting us from the busyness of life for an entire day.

The Greater Scheme

I wrote this poem and took this picture while attending a mindfulness retreat several years ago. The picture was taken in the early fall on a beautiful day as the sun warmed, the breeze cooled, and colours changed. When I sit in meditation or practice yoga, mindfulness reminds me I am one part of a much larger scheme. There is a lot acting on me that goes unnoticed and taken-for-granted. It is in mindfulness I remember to be humble and grateful for the small part I do play in the world.

Sitting, walking–

Speaking, listening–

In the greater scheme,

One part amongst many,

What does it mean?

Sunlight warming faces,

Breezes cooling skin,

Morning freshness awakening;

Afternoon warming;

Evening comforting.

In Nature’s midst,

Pulling close,

Embracing all forms,

Sinking deep roots,

Colouring with vibrancy.

Beginning afresh;

Living the world anew,

New eyes seeing it;

Skin touching it for the first time,

Finding one’s seat at the table.

Turbulent Calmness

On June 29, I posted a similar poem and theme. I am not sure what led me to post two that shared the same title. It is likely, early in the school year, it feels chaotic. Early in a school year, there are moments of repreive in this feeling and, as the year gains momentum, they become more common. As one co-participant in my dissertation put it: “I learn to stand in the middle of the storm.”

The other inflluence was I took several courses in my PhD about leading in complex and chaotic times. Servant-leadership, mindful leadership, and transformational leadership are forms of leadership particularly effective in times. We focus on questions about what needs to be changed, how do we engage each person in change, and how does each person become a leader in their own right? These forms share common features: grounded in the present, ethically guided, there is foresight without being set in certainty, etc. Mixed in this was courses on the Tao of Leadership, Systems Leadership, Leadership and Justice, Dialogic Leadership, etc. When I re-entered the classroom each September, what I learned in my PhD founds its way in with me. How could I better serve each student? How could we transform and share our experiences into something nourishing each other’s lives? How could I make a difference for each student? How could they grow and become better leaders than me?

I took the pictures at Lundreck Falls as a reminder of how quickly nature can bring a sense of calm back even in the midst of what is initially chaotic. Within a short distance from the falls, the water pools and calms, at least on the surface. What goes on underneath the surface can remain chaotic and complex much like life, needing non-judgemental, humility, foresight, patience, and wisdom to navigate the unforseeable and unpredictable.

 

Needless to say, I wrote a poem about the challenges of remaining calm in the midst of the storm sometimes raging around me.

Growing awareness–

Standing still,

Humbling one’s self,

To gain foresight–

Insight;

Emerging clarity,

Wisdom.

Entering life’s stream–

Even calm waters,

Hiding shoals, rocks, currents,

In turbulence–

Dropping labels,

Ceasing unwarranted judgment,

Falling awake.