Safety First

I was recently teased by some neighbors for walking Maite (the Rottweiler) with my treat pouch front and center. There were some mildly macho statements that their dogs “better just listen” and “behave.” There are plenty of reasons for this thought process/understanding about dogs which I won’t get into here. Suffice it to say, they kind of think I’m weak because they see me “rewarding/bribing” Maite.

The thing is, the food isn’t actually much of a bribe. If Maite is fully activated (in a state of fight/flight/freeze), even if I put the food right in her mouth, it would just fall out.

The image shows Maite (the Rottweiler) out on a walk in her harness. She’s sitting and smiling up with her mouth open.

It is true that when we first started walking together, I did frequently use treats as a lure. I would put it right in front of her nose and try to lead her away from areas I thought might be problematic. This would NOT work if she had already seen the problematic thing/person in question. It was my job to be on the lookout and help her to avoid things that might trigger her. If we successfully managed to avoid the trigger, then I might give extra treats as a reward for her attention on me.

Treat giving also gives me information about what state Maite is in. If she doesn’t take it at all, she’s too agitated to keep going. If she takes it a little too fast, I know she’s getting overwhelmed.

Image shows a pile of bone shaped dog treats.

After 5 years of walking together, the treat situation is a little bit different. Now if I offer a treat and lead her off the sidewalk, or around a car, or ask her to sit suddenly, she KNOWS that there is something in the area that I am avoiding. I can see it in her behavior, she will perk up her ears, or sniff the air expectantly. If I’ve been quick enough (meaning the trigger is far enough away), she’ll accept the treat.

These days the treats are part of an agreement we have, part of a conversation. She does not “behave” for the treat. She expects me to keep her safe (going around “scary” things/people, getting between her and “scary” things, avoiding some areas altogether). If I can do that successfully, she will be in a relaxed enough state to take the treat from my hand gently.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because we saw a family in a chaotic moment on our walk today and it got me to thinking about the way adults often look at therapy for children. It seems like educators and parents want therapists to tell them what are the right tricks (treats) that will “make” children behave, and then once we find them ask, “when can we stop using them?”

The image shows a Dinosaur Reward Chart, with line drawings of stars ready to be filled in. There are 2 green dinos on the page which have blue stripes on a white background.

As it turns out, there is no secret treat (bribe/skill/strategy) that will move a child (or an adult) from an activated (fight/flight/freeze/fawn) state to a calm state. Only other regulated people can do that. Children need to feel safe before they can be calm. They are depending on adults to keep them safe and if not, to get them to safety as quickly as possible. Breathing techniques and affirmations and sticker charts (skills/strategies/bribes) will NOT work if children don’t feel safe.

The fact is, everyone has skills and strategies they use every day. Children and adults. It’s just that skills and strategies become habits and once they are a habit, we generally stop thinking about them consciously. They are not gone, they've just become part of who we are, how we behave. What are your favorite skills and/or strategies?

Images for some of the strategies in our house: first image shows a black child jumping (for grounding and self-regulation), the second shows an Asian woman stretching at a desk (for release and more self-regulation), the third image shows keys hanging from hooks (as in, put your things in a place that you can find them later and feel less frantic), and the fourth image shows a black person running (for grounding, space from screens, more self-regulation), from behind, on a road flanked by trees. The runner has long locs.

The banner image shows home-baked dog treats shaped like bones.

Criticism for...Safety?

I’ve been doing trauma-informed work for nearly two decades. Asking “what has happened to you” (instead of “what’s wrong with you?”) is something like second nature to me. I have annoyed partners, friends and family members for years by coming up with alternate reasons for why people around them have behaved the way they have.

Image shows the back end of cars in traffic, brake lights on.

Some examples:

That tailgater who’s annoying my partner? Maybe he’s rushing to the hospital where his wife is giving birth!

That annoying colleague at work who never stops talking? Maybe he’s lonely and doesn’t really know how to make friends.

That know-it-all friend who lectures everyone? Maybe she’s feeling like she doesn’t have much control in her life and this is her way to show that she knows things.

That boss who never responds to your emails? Maybe they are really swamped with their other duties and just didn’t have a chance to get back to you.

See how that could get annoying?

For me, it’s the other side that is tough. Like, when people say things like, “He’s a terrible driver!” or “She talks all the time. She never does any real work!” or “Why does she have to act like she knows everything?” I am doing the work in my head, coming up with alternative explanations – even when it won’t affect me either way.  

Image shows an old fashioned dial phone, black and off the hook, with a long cord.

Recently I was on the phone with my mother. She told me about an encounter where she volunteers, then about an encounter with her friends at lunch, then about a person that goes to her church and I started to feel really…tired.

Because when she is feeling stressed and making a lot of judgmental statements, it’s a ton of effort for me. If I say what I’m thinking out loud, it comes across like I’m defending someone (maybe that I don’t even know). If I don’t say it out loud, it’s still in there and now I’m trying to suppress it.

I’ve had so much practice with it, I don’t even do it on purpose, these ideas just pop into my head. Instead, I sometimes have trouble understanding why other people don’t do it. Sometimes I get critical, even. Why are people so judgmental?

Then I read this article Where did all this judgment come from? Why are we such harsh critics? by Robyn Brickel, M.A., LMFT on the PACEs Connection website and I had an aha moment. I highly encourage you to read the whole thing! But look at this little part:

““Whether internal or external, judgment or criticism usually comes from the same place: hypervigilance.
...
Judgment and criticism are essentially your brain and body constantly assessing everything for safety — and if you had a history of childhood trauma (big T or little T!) — then this mechanism was absolutely necessary back then to keep you safe.””

Yes! That make so much sense to me. My mother – whom I love– is often critical. And sometimes I get so annoyed by it, but when I think of it in terms of hypervigilance, well my mother has plenty of reason to be hypervigilant.

Another part that really stuck with me:

““The mind thinks if we are constantly judging — noticing all of the faults, then we can do something and keep ourselves and others safe.
If I judge myself, I can protect myself from what others may say or think.
If I judge you, I can control things (our relationship)
and keep myself separate and safe.””

Judgement as an attempt at control – I never thought of it that way before. My mother’s life has lots of moments where she has no control at all about what is going to happen. She’s an immigrant to the US with little formal education and an accent. She lives in the South. She is often on the downside of power there. Her judgment of herself, her friends, and me, are maybe attempts to keep us all safe. Aha!

Like I said, read the article. It even has some skills and strategies for being less judgmental. Hopefully I can hang on to them the next time I’m talking with my mother. Let me know if you had any aha moments in the comments.

Header image shows a woman with short dark hair making a skeptical look with one finger raised in (maybe?) criticism. From engin-akyurt on unsplash.

Who's hustling? Why? What else is there?

Recently I found myself with only one client hour on a Saturday – a rarity for me. Of course, I still went to my office and spent too much time looking at email and all of that*, but it felt different, more relaxed. After I was done, I went home and felt relaxed enough to make Korean egg rolls (with my own modifications).

Image shows my red pot with zucchini, carrots, peppers and garlic, ready to go into egg rolls

Image shows a bowl with chop chae noodles, bean sprouts and fake meat ready to mix

Egg rolls take time, and I haven’t made them in years. As I made them, I thought about how I begged my mother to make them pretty much any time someone said, “What will we have for dinner?” Mostly my mother said, “Not today” which makes perfect sense to my adult self. Today if I am going to make them, I need a nice clear schedule, with nothing else happening afterwards. Besides eating them.

I feel similarly about writing – it takes time, and I need a fair bit of space in my day before I will even start that creative process.  Which reminded me about my commitment to moving from “hustle to flow” as Shawn Ginwright suggests in The Four Pivots. What he said about hustling and how it drives many of us forward fit me and my life perfectly. And I liked his thoughts on flow, on how to find ease in our lives, how we can work with what we have rather than trying to push and try to make everything fit somehow.

But even as I was (re)dedicating myself to finding my flow, I thought about what a privilege it is to be in a place where I can think about finding flow. I left home at 17, and I have hustled hard* almost all the years since then. That hustle feels like it’s in my bones, like if I have too much down time, I get antsy.

Image shows my egg rolls in rice paper wrappers, ready for the next step, frying.

It’s not an accident or poor decisions that got me to this point, much as the world would like me to believe it. This world is full of so much push – it comes from patriarchy, productivity culture, ableism – and for many of us if we didn’t hustle, we wouldn’t make it (and I don’t mean that like, “succeed in life,” I mean that like, “survive”). I still work multiple jobs*, trying to make sure that if the bottom falls out, I will land in one piece.

Image shows a close up of a bitten egg roll, veggies all sticking out of the top. Behind the egg roll is Maite the Rottweiler, hoping for a bite.

I don’t have any easy answers for us hustlers. I don’t know how to create flow in a packed schedule. I don’t have tips or strategies. I can’t even write this piece without praising my own hustle.

How is this all related to egg rolls? Egg rolls need time to create, and because I switched to rice paper I had to seriously slow down (rice paper is NOT in a hurry). And I wouldn’t have made them (or written this little post) if I hadn’t had a little extra space. Time to enjoy my creations!

* see how even in the beginning I’m trying to prove that I’m still hustling?

* more evidence of my hustling

* yes, hustling

Image shows a stack of fried egg rolls, 8 of them. They are kind of see through because of the rice paper wrappers, so the green zucchini and the orange carrot and the yellow bean sprouts are visible. It is also the banner image.

What good are feelings?

On social media the other day, there was a post from a new parent friend of mine about why people insist on telling children not to cry, or to stop crying, or even to calm down. There were a lot of comments, and I think most folx got that telling kids (or anyone, really) "don't cry" is not particularly helpful.

If you aren't sure, I invite you to do a little thought exercise with me. Imagine you are right in the middle of your favorite rant. You are telling this person just how important this issue is, when all of a sudden, they say, "Calm down." Even if they say it calmly, chances are good that you will feel anything but calm.

Image shows a wall with Calm Down written in script with an arrow pointing down underneath. The words are back lit.

Besides possibly intensifying their emotions, telling children to stop crying isn't particularly effective, at least not at first. If you do it often enough, and with enough intensity, children will learn, in fact, to hold in their tears. Or to hide them. But is this what we really want for children? Are we hoping to shut down their emotions?

Image shows a young brown-skinned person in a blue shirt with their shirt pulled up to hide their face. Their hair is black.

I've also witnessed grown-ups saying things like, "I see that you are mad/sad/upset" when they see children crying. I think it's in part about identifying feelings for children- and it often seems to backfire. And I worry sometimes that we are rushing children into their heads too quickly.

Emotions are not some kind of cosmic error. They exist for our benefit. Emotions tell us (sometimes before our brains get there) to move away or towards people, situations, and ideas. When we are having an emotion, the most important thing is the emotion itself. They are a kind of compass for our lives. But only when we allow them to be so. Curious about how that works?

First, when children are crying, we as adults can allow them to feel that emotion (vs asking them to stop crying or trying to soothe them or cheering them up). We can sit quietly, maybe make observations, "I see you crying" or "This seems hard." If we saw what we think caused the distress, we could ask, "Is this about falling down?" But mostly it works best if we can just be with children, witness their tears, and offer our support, "I'll stay with you."

Image shows the same people from the banner photo, this time the female caregiver is holding the crying child. The other child continues to play/work with their toys.

When they start to feel better, we can offer space to talk - but not require it. Allowing them a safe place to talk about what happened makes it possible for them to start to understand where their feelings come from and how to share those feelings with others. Over time, children learn that feelings are okay to have - and even better - that their feelings give them important information about themselves and the world.

What are your emotions telling you these days?

Banner photo: Image shows three light brown people with dark hair, two toddlers and a grown up who appears female (you can only see the side of their face). The two children each have a peg board game in front of them. The child on the left is crying, while the other is looking down at the board. The photo is from Jep Gambardella at pexels.

Let me off this ride!

Welcome back! I came here to write to y’all and discovered that it's been more than a year since my last post. I read it over and considered where I am today. Guess what? I'm still burnt out. It isn't all bad, though. My partner and I made it to the Alameda County Fair this summer and to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, too. I was watching her ride the swings with some family friends when I had an itchy, scratchy, Stephen King-like thought: What if once you were on the ride, you could never get off?

ID: Three pictures of Caitlin on rides - she’s waving cheesily in the first and third: First the boat ride on her own, second she and her niece way in front of me on the Sky Tram. The third picture is her with a family friend about to take off into the wild blue yonder. That’s the ride that got me going.

My stomach dropped and I had to look away. How awful would that be? I mean, soaring around in circles is fine if you know when it's going to end, but what if you didn't know? How long before you started to feel sick? How long before you started to feel trapped and panicky? My palms felt sticky with sweat as I turned back to watch the ride lower and begin to slow. I could feel my pulse in my ears as I went to the exit gate to wait for them. I gave my partner a little hug and she gave me a questioning pat.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yup," I answered, and we were off to the next ride. But the truth was, I wasn't sure. I suddenly saw my life like a ride that never ends, and thought of how long it had been since I had any kind of break, when I had last really felt rested. It had been a long time, too long. And I couldn't see any way off the ride yet, either. I had a ton of work to do to get ready for our big summer institute. We had some health concerns in the family, too, that were going to require a lot of time and energy. This ride was not ending any time soon, and I was reaching that panic state.

ID: Bright red flares of fireworks in a night sky. Photo by Marcel L. on Unsplash

Luckily I work with an amazing group of people and was able to signal them from the ride (not with a flare or anything like that, I really just talked to them) and let them know how I was doing. Telling them didn't change the significant concerns I was facing, but it did give me some ease to share that burden with trusted people. After that conversation I found it a little easier to name that feeling I was having, to others AND to myself, and to allow myself a little more kindness. Sometimes that means going running, and sometimes it means skipping the run. Sometimes it means letting someone else do something for me. What can you do in your life that allows you a little more kindness?

It's still a little scary, but I think I feel the ride slowing down.

ID: Caitlin on the left, me on the right. We have matching rainbow face paint and are both grinning. We’re on the carousel - at the end of the ride.

Banner Image: The smooth roller coaster Caitlin and her dad rode - that’s them in that one, tiny car just left of center. I took it myself.

Doing...or Being?

It’s hard to write lately. Not just blog posts, either. It’s hard to write proposals for presenting, or descriptions of what I’ll present on, it’s even hard to write emails. I’m here today mostly because I know that writing often helps me feel better. I’m in a dark place, y’all, dark and sad. I keep looking out at the world and seeing all the hurt and harm and I feel…despair. I know I’m supposed to be holding hope, but I gotta tell you, lately I don’t feel all that hopeful myself.

I have migraines several days a week, despite doing ALL the things (food, exercise, medication, meditation, etc.). I feel heavy and nothing (food, exercise, meditation, you get the idea) makes a difference. I joined a virtual running group with a plan which I have carried out faithfully, but I generally still feel slow and have to force myself to go every time. I’m sitting in my running clothes right now, in fact, procrastinating.

ID: Pictures of my hand holding migraine meds. I take a picture because it’s more reliable than trying to remember what time I took them.

When I come to write on this blog, I want to provide people with ideas, strategies, and possibilities. The thing is, when we are experiencing high levels of stress, creativity is one of the things that falls by the wayside. When I come here, I want to remind y’all to take care of yourselves, to put your mental health at the top of your list. I know that I’m not doing that very well, however, so it’s hard to encourage others. I know that I’m seriously burnt out, but I am having a hard time utilizing my own strategies.

ID: Krispy Kreme donuts on the conveyor belt. On the right, freshly fried donuts move towards the sheet of melted glaze that comes out of a contraption that spans the belt. On the left, newly bathed in sugary goodness, are the finished product.

I’m trying. I’m remembering to say no to foods that feel bad in my body after I eat them, like donuts. I mean, I love me some Krispy Kreme, but after I eat them the gluten gathers up like a rock in my stomach. So yesterday I made some gluten free brownies. They were so good, even my person (a woman who loves all things gluten) liked them! I continue to RSVP to classes at the box (which gets me there cuz they charge $5 for no-shows). I joined a virtual running group with helps me keep up with my running. I try to keep my reading list varied between all the terrible things I need to know about and fun, gentle things that give me hope.

Except…all of these are still me “doing” things. I am feeling a serious overload of “doing.” I am doing all the time, and if I’m not doing, I’m thinking about what I should be doing. Or should have already done. The thing I’m missing most in my life right now, is space and time to do nothing – to just be. We all need those moments where we are just spacing out, free floating, allowing our brains to wander. That’s where cool ideas come in, where new exciting connections get made.

How do you make slow down the doing, and make space to just be? To let your mind float and create and make new connections?

ID: Blue skies and bright white clouds and the top of the Bay Bridge. I took it myself.

Banner Image: Red, pink, purple and white storm clouds - courtesy Unsplash: Andrea Ferrario

Focus

When I started doing Crossfit, I pushed hard. And then I hurt myself. No surprise there.

ID: Group of people (mostly women) standing together in a gym. They are wearing red shirts, most with the Incredibles’ logo on the front. They are wearing black eye masks that makes them look sneaky. This is my Crossfit Open team from 2019. I’m in there but hard to pick out because red shirts and masks. My head is shaved, and my shirt is plain red.

After a long recuperation period, I came back, and I’ll admit it, I was scared. I was super gentle with myself. I modified every workout, I kept the weights low. And I got pretty comfortable there, in the slow, light lane.

Then I started working with a personal trainer and discovered, hey, I actually am still pretty strong. I felt good and started challenging myself more.

Then the shelter in place happened and all that screeched to a halt.

But the gym kept up with virtual, body weight workouts. I stopped modifying everything because I was worried I was going to lose my progress. But “do everything hard” seemed like a bad plan (see above) so I started choosing just one part of the workout to focus on, like burpees (I’d tilt the camera up so no one could see me floundering there on the floor). Or I’d focus on staying consistent with speed or weight.

ID: Five drawn images of a woman in shorts and tank top that shows how to do a burpee. 1. hands on the floor in front of her feet. 2. Flat out like she’s in the bottom of a pushup (thighs and chest are supposed to touch the floor) 3. Up in the top of push up position 4. Back to position one, hands and feet close togther 5. Arms extended overhead, jumping up. Now that I’ve done this description, I realize it probably doesn’t make sense.

When we come back to the gym (we work out in the parking lot), I found that I could do a lot of the workouts just as they were written! I mean, granted, when we first came back, the coach definitely took into account that many of us had not slung heavy weights in MONTHS, so I think those first workouts were probably already modified, but ANYWAY. I impressed myself!

And guess what? The idea of focusing on one thing? It isn’t a new idea. I remember someone saying to me long ago, “When you run, you can focus on speed or distance, but not both.” I also remember scoffing internally and then suffering through years of “too hard” running. I also remember reading a journal article about the myth of multitasking, that at best people can get better at “serial tasking,” switching from one task to another quickly. It also showed that people generally lose quality whenever they attempt to multitask. Here’s a 7-minute video that tells about some of these studies and if you aren’t interested in that, I encourage you to watch this 2 minute video called The Monkey Business Illusion. It’s worth it, I promise. Even if you’ve already seen it.

Focusing on one thing has helped me get faster and stronger, too. When I remember to carry this simple idea into my workday, it helps me be more efficient and feel better about the work I do. Focusing on one thing allows us the opportunity to find the flow in our work, which increases feelings of satisfaction.

ID: One women in workout clothes sitting on the floor at the gym, me squatting near her, both of us smiling. This is at the Open a year after the picture up top. My favorite thing about the gym are moments like these, sharing that feeling of tired and satisfied.

It’s interesting where life lessons come from, isn’t it? And how you might hear that message in one place at one time in your life, but it doesn’t really sink in until you hear it again? Or maybe even several times? If you’ve heard this idea before, I challenge you to try it out today, see if it works for you. If this is the first time you’ve heard it, I challenge you, too.

Banner Image: A huge group of people in workout clothes at the gym. Everyone is smiling, some people are sitting on the floor, some hanging on the pull up rig in the back.

Hallway Moments

Working from home is distinctly different when you are used to working in school buildings. If you work in an office, yes, you see your co-workers, you have small talk before meetings, maybe you talk with certain colleagues regularly, but none of that comes even close to how many tiny interactions you get in a school building/campus. Let me give you a personal tour of what this looks like for me at one of the schools I work in:

Image shows a front office of a school, with a counter top for talking to the administrative assistant and offices behind it. You have to imagine all the smiling faced people, as there is only one person visible, back in the office.

I walk in the front door and I get a nod from the administrative assistant at the front, curious looks from children waiting to be picked up, a glance from parent standing with a child, a smile from the principal as she goes into her office, the nurse looks up as he stands with a student and the ubiquitous ice pack, the playground coach waves, coming in with a ball tucked under their arm heading to the equipment room...all of this interaction before I’ve even said hello.

Image shows elementary students in line, most are wearing coats, one child has his hood on his head and his coat hanging like a cape. Lots of curly haired children in the photo. Mixed gender and race/ethnicity.

Once I get my schedule from the administrative assistant, who offers me a tasty treat, I talk for a moment with the substitute who will be with me that day, releasing teachers. We walk out onto the yard and there are dozens of children, walking in lines at this time of day, and once one child waves or says good morning, you can count on more than half to follow suit. When we arrive in the classroom, we’re greeted by the teacher and the whole class.

Image description: Classroom from behind student desks, teacher is at the blackboard, one student has their hand up, other students and teacher are looking at that student. Students are about 10/11 years old and mixed gender and race/ethnicity. Front of classroom shows student work displayed, a large map, other info on bulletin boards.

Kids come over during my time in the classroom, ask if I’m a boy or girl, ask about my pen, what I’m writing, why I’m wearing a scarf, or how to spell a word. And this goes on all day long. I might interact with 100 people (in a small school) in just one day. I know it’s a little different for a classroom teacher, who might only see other staff/teachers and their own cohort of students in one day, but that still might be as many as 50 different people and hundreds of interactions.

Image shows children from Kelston Elementary on playground equipment, mixed gender and race/ethnicity. They are climbing and one child is swinging from one hand hold to the next. Some children are obviously posing, grinning at the camera.

All day long, we get these tiny interactions, nods, smiles, even a grimace can let us know that we are not alone, can strengthen our resolve, can have us feeling empathetic for others (oh, that looks like a tough time over there). We witness children laughing, singing, crying, responding to teacher questions. We might get a consoling pat on the shoulder from a colleague or an unannounced hug from a little one. We might help kids put on coats, tie shoes, write sentences or explain their math thinking.

Each of these moments helps keep us aligned with our purpose. They sometimes help us to feel hopeful. They often help us to feel like part of a larger whole. They can help us feel seen and heard. They provide us with much needed co-regulation. We are hard wired to connect with others, and these little hallway moments count.

Image shows a school hallway, empty. Windows to outside on the left hand side, classroom doors down the right. Backpack and coats are hung up one both sides.

I’m calling them hallway moments because I’ve seen so many educators pass in the hallway with just a look or a phrase that communicates how their entire day is going, after which they both smile or laugh. Connection. I’ve seen so many adults smile at a student in hallways, call out their name, or ask about a parent and then seen that student light up. Connection.

We need these hallway moments. As I talk with educators who are still doing virtual classes, we are talking about the ways they are re-creating these hallway moments. Some schools are doing it with virtual “coffee hours” that don’t have any kind of work agenda. Some teachers are doing it with time at the end of class periods for students to chat in the chat box. I know teachers who are popping into other teachers’ classrooms just to do a quick hello to everyone. I’ve heard of teachers hosting lunch hour on Zoom so students can hang out with each other.

I’m always looking for new ideas. What are you doing to increase your points of connection? How can we fill our hallways?

Image shows a school hallway, no people in sight, but a few empty desks. It looks a bit sad, although the walls are brightly colored and there are windows letting in natural light. There’s a mural at the end of the hall that looks like a lake with lily pads.

Reconnect

Time to go back to school, folks. I recognize that coming back (whether that’s in “brick and mortar” or online) might be tough. I mean, every year that I’ve done this work there is a certain amount of stress coming back after the break. Given the current set up, I imagine this year might be even harder. In the past, I watched teachers spend time in January re-starting the year, maybe going over classroom norms, having children set goals for the next semester/quarter and getting to know each other again.

I am advocating for teachers to do even more of that this year. Maybe in some scripted ways, like having students answer questions one at a time or in breakout groups, but also in small ways that you might have when you were in person.

Use those moments when you are waiting for kids to join the class, or waiting while someone mutes or unmutes, while someone has gone off for a pencil or their book. They are opportunities to connect. Tell your students something about yourself (as a way to get them started) and give them a chance to share with you.

In these spaces I often hear teachers asking what I think of as filler questions that assume a certain kind of life “What are you doing this weekend?” or “What will you do with the rest of your day?” or “what are you having for lunch?” Some questions lean heavily on good/bad distinctions, like “What’s one good thing and one hard thing from this week?” or “What is your favorite ice cream?”

I think they are common questions when we were all in school buildings, and might seem harmless, but in the current context, they may have unintended consequences. For many kids they are a reminder of things they miss, or of worries they might have. 25% of children in the US were suffering from food insecurity before this pandemic, I can only imagine the number has gone up. If your parents are working in some essential work, you may be spending your weekends waiting for them to come home. Maybe they couldn’t travel to see family, maybe family members were sick so couldn’t visit. And I don’t have anything against ice cream, but I hear that question asked so often in classrooms that I find it fairly surface, and one that kids quickly copy each other on, or mock people who like something too different.

I am encouraging educators to ask more neutral questions, ones that highlight our common humanity rather than highlighting differences, and that value experience over good/bad judgements. You might need to help them out to begin with, because they might be different than what they are used to. Here are some examples:

Tell about one sound you really like (like bacon frying or the click of your game controller)

What’s one word that surprised you when you learned it?

Tell about a favorite scent (peanut butter, bacon, bubble bath or even hand sanitizer)

What is one flavor you can easily bring to mind

What you miss and/or don’t miss about being in the school building?

What song have you played on repeat lately?

What is one sense memory from being in the school building?

If you could go right now and get ice cream, what flavor would you get? (maybe start them off with, “For me, I usually eat strawberry, but today I really feel like rocky road” – give them an opportunity to check in with themselves rather than blurt out a simple “chocolate!”)

If you are going to ask questions about favorites check in on:

Favorite author Favorite singer/rapper

Favorite you-tuber Favorite cereal

Favorite game (video or other) Favorite app/website

Image shows the ASL “Y” shape, thumb and pinky out, other fingers folded in. For the SAME sign, the palm is down/neutral, and the hand moves back and forth between you and the other person.

Pay attention for other students connecting – so if you are in a zoom room give them a hand signal for “me too!” It could be the one that looks like the American Sign Language sign for SAME, but maybe something bigger in a zoom room.

Smiling African American girl with both hands up by her face, fingers wide open.

It could be the double jazz hands, or arms straight up in the air. It could even be a single word…like “Yessssss” with the “s” drawn out so it’s easy to know it’s being said even if there are multiple kids agreeing.

Please do not ask students to write about what the did over winter break. This is not trauma informed and can cause real harm for some students. Please, please, please. In most cases, this is not a connector. If you must ask for a free writing sample, try “If you had a magic wand and could go anywhere, where would you go?” or “If you could ask your pet one question, what would it be and what would be their answer?”

Connection is about acknowledging that we share a common humanity. Help students understand that they have things in common with you and each other.

(banner photo shows five hands making the peace sign, finger tips touching to form a star, with a blue sky and clouds in the background - get it? Connecting?)

Happy Friday!

Happy Friday, y’all. I know that many of you are celebrating Christmas today, and I have no complaints about that. Meanwhile, I want to recognize the many, many people who are not celebrating Christmas. As I scrolled through my insta feed this morning I saw picture after picture of folks in matching pyjamas, lovely smiles on their faces, puppies and kiddos galore.

They were sweet pictures, but I couldn’t help thinking about the people I know who are not celebrating. I’ll give you a moment – no, 30 seconds to join me – just pause and reflect on why someone might not celebrate Christmas.

What’s on your list? Here’s what I came up with:

            Too far from family

            Follow another religious path

            Financial reasons

            Estranged from family

            Raging against capitalism

            Isolated in some way

Are not religious at all

Once again, I am in no way saying that people who ARE celebrating need to censor themselves. I just want to say for those of you NOT celebrating Christmas, you are not alone. I’m not celebrating Christmas today. I’m celebrating that it’s Friday. Finally.

According to the Pew Research Center, the CIA (yes, that CIA) and the Encyclopedia Britannica, Christians make up about a third of the world’s population. That’s a broad definition, including around 41,000 Christian denominations.

ID: Shows a table with world religions on it, Buddhists, 488 million, 7.1 % of world population; Christians, 2.2 billion, 31.4% of world pop; Hindus, 1 billion, 15% of world pop; Jews, 13.9 million, 0.2% of world pop; Muslims, 1.6 billion, 23.2% of world pop; Unaffiliated 1.1 billion, 16.4% of world pop; Folk religions, 405 million, 5.9% of world pop; Other religions, 58.2 million, 0.8% of world population.

As you can see, there is plenty of diversity in the world. All those pictures, though, can feel like a lot of pressure. We might look at those pictures and feel like we are failing, or like our families are. It’s easy to imagine that all those smiling faces are direct results of super happy lives. I mean, insta and facebook are all about putting your best pic forward, right? Feeds are carefully curated to paint a picture for the world to see – a nice, happy picture. And one that fits within the white Christian privilege paradigm. But the world - even the United States - is much more complex than that.

ID: My sister, father, mother and me. We’re all smiling. My hair is frizzy and wild. My dad is in his sweater he pulled on over his pjs.

Months before my father passed away, I was home on a visit from Minnesota. The night before I flew out, my sister came in to the room a bit frantically, and told us we had to get together for a picture, that she needed it while I was still home, so it had to be right now. It was past 11 pm, my father was not feeling well, we were all in comfy pyjamas, and none of us really wanted to do it. She persisted, though, and so we did. In that moment, none of us was very happy about it, not even my sister who was by then exasperated with all of us. Later she sent me an etched charm with that picture on it. We look happy in that picture, and I’m glad to have it, but I also know the complexity behind that picture.

Picture shows Maite the Rottweiler’s face up close, with a word bubble that says, Happy Friday!

Again, I’m not saying that people need to keep their pictures to themselves (here I’ve shared a picture of my dog, which I think is adorable). I am suggesting that when we are looking through our feed that we keep in mind that every picture is not necessarily the whole picture, that sometimes people post pictures as they try to be in that happy moment. I am suggesting that we see all those smiling faces as hopes and aspirations, as possibilities. I am saying if you know someone has been struggling, reach out. Even if they have a happy, smiling picture. I’m saying if you are struggling, reach out. Even if you worry about interrupting someone’s “perfect” holiday. I am saying if you don’t have the perfect picture, I am here for that. I am saying that you don’t even need to post a picture.

(banner photo shows Maite laying in her (MY) bean bag)

Books!

I love to read. I read a lot. I finish several books a week. I am nearly indiscriminate in my reading – except that I only read BIPOC authors for the past four years (alright, I admit I did read the new Stephan King and the new Dan Siegal). I read middle-grade and young adult and regular grow-up fiction as well as non-fiction. I read about racism, school organization, sleep, food, health, teaching, mental health, the “justice” system – really anything that catches my attention.  

Image of the top of my wordpress blog, bookspastandfuture with How to Be an Antiracist and The Hate U Give at the top.

I used to even have a blog all about books – Books Past and Future, I called it. I wanted to keep track of all the books I wanted to read and had read (no, never going to use Goodreads). The trouble was, I found it hard to write about every book.  

First, I personally am not a fan of reading the jacket. I like to be surprised by the story I’m reading, so I don’t want to spoil it for anyone else. If what you want is a summary, you can for sure find it out in the world.               

Secondly, because I’m mostly reading new authors and books I think were “pushed out” by the publishing world that suddenly realized that their BIPOC bookshelves were woefully thin – some of the books I’m reading aren’t…all that well edited.

I do not like to write a negative review, y’all, and especially because some of these books, even poorly edited, are sure to speak – LOUDLY – to folx who have not read/heard or seen their story ever in a book. And I want people to read them, both the people who see themselves represented there and also people who never knew that people like them exist in the world. The books on my website are all books I loved for one reason or another – just not always because of the writing itself.

I know I’m hard on books. Maybe because I’ve read a lot, I’ve seen enough really good writing to expect it from authors/editors. Maybe it’s because I’ve lived a lot of places and so can’t stand it when people don’t get the details right. Maybe it’s just because I’m judgey. I can own that.

What I’m trying to say is this: the books you’ll find on this website are legitimately #ownvoices; they are all books I have read; there are no summaries or reviews here, but I am always happy to talk about books I’ve read and make recommendations.

I believe that reading is a radical act, a way to broaden your world view without ever leaving your chair. It is a way to learn and to observe and to enter into someone else’s point of view. Over the years books have been banned (and still are) because people KNOW the power of words. I am encouraging y’all to read, widely and wildly. Let your imagination soar!

What are you reading? Make me a recommendation! Wanna talk books? Email me!

(banner photo shows a screenshot of my #ownvoices tab with Know My Name, by Chanel Miller, The Mermaid, the Witch and the Sea by Maggie Tokuda-Hall, How it All Blew Up, by Arvin Ahmadi, Slay by Britney Morris, Sanctuary, by Paola Mendoza and Abby Sher and The Good Luck Girls, by Charlotte Nicole Davis)

Compassion, Comfort and Connection

I love books. I read. A lot. I finish several books a week. I am nearly indiscriminate in my reading – except that I only read BIPOC authors for the past four years (alright, I admit I did read the new Stephan King and the new Dan Siegal). I read middle-grade and young adult and regular grow-up fiction as well as non-fiction. I read about racism, school organization, sleep, food, health, teaching, mental health, the “justice” system – really anything that catches my attention.  

Image- circles of control, inside circle shows things “I can control” including: My positive attitude; turning off the news; finding fun things to do; Limiting my social media. Outside the circle are Things I Cannot Control, including: If others follow the rules of social distancing; The actions of others; How long this will last; Predicting what will happen.

I used to even have a blog all about books – Books Past and Future, I called it. I wanted to keep track of all the books I wanted to read and had read (no, never going to use Goodreads). The trouble was, I found it hard to write about every book.  

There are so many things out of our control in the world! And these days they may feel more intense.  With so many things out of our control, what are the things we do have control over?                    

First, we can show compassion to ourselves and one another. If you find your internet going out right when you are in the middle of a lesson, breathe a few long, slow breaths while you wait for it to come back on. When you come back in, ask students what they last heard you say, so they can help you get back on track. There is nothing you can do about such things (beyond calling for internet help), so best to keep your stress about that down. If students pop in and out, or turn their cameras off and on, let’s extend that same compassion. In all those cases we also have very little control, and we don’t have to spend a lot of resources being upset about it. And in some of those cases, our students don’t have much control either.

Also, in these very uncertain times, find ways to be comfortable re: where you spend your teaching time. I know many teachers who in the brick and mortar days spent all day on their feet and rarely even took a bathroom break during the school day. Not because they were martyrs, but because it often felt like there weren’t other options. Working remotely means you have a little bit of say on where you spend your teaching time. When I did my beginning of the year professional development Zooms this year, I saw most of the teachers sitting at their kitchen tables. I understand the idea behind this. Maybe it’s well lit, and doesn’t show too much of the inside of your house. Also, it’s work, so it should be done in a hard chair (that’s just a joke). The problem is that over time, those seating arrangements are going to get uncomfortable. That’s why in offices people have rolling, cushioned chairs with arms, sit-stand desks, footrests and staff lounges. I want to encourage you all to find at least 2 places in your home where you can sit or stand and be online with your students. Maybe you spend an hour a day on the couch, then the other time at the kitchen table. And when you take a break, get up from where you are teaching, and move to your “lounge.” Which might be your bedroom, or standing in front of the fridge, hunting for a snack.

Image: kitchen table with open laptop, phone and flowers in a vase.

Maite taking over my desk chair/ bean bag.

Veteran teachers who are used to having their plans and tools at the ready find themselves needing to start over. More recently graduated teachers may find themselves adrift without mentors close by. Many teachers at all levels of practice, however, are finding themselves missing the very thing they want the most, time with children. How can we connect to our students in the virtual world? I know that some of you may be thinking that it isn’t possible, but I gotta tell you, millions of people make friendships online all the time (online gaming). Some people even find partners online (also online gaming plus dating apps). It can be done.

Image of an online game in progress

Images shows icons for more dating apps than I knew existed.

To start, spend some time each day connecting with your students on a personal level. Not every student, every day. Just one student, each day. I encourage you to pick a student, and try to connect for 3 days in a row. Then pick another student. This connection might be a story about your life, or it might be asking about their favorite music. It might be about a TV show or jumping rope.

Same image of Circles of Control, but with different words. In the center circle, I can control: My facial expression; Mic muting for students; My attention to students; Where I sit; Who I call at the end of the day. Outside circle, I cannot control: Wi-Fi connection; Parent behavior, Student camera off; Sudden computer glitch; Random chat; Student supplies (pencils, books, paper); Student participation

I understand this sounds simplistic, and yet, I believe these first small steps will, in fact, make a difference. For you and your students.

Take good care of yourselves, folx, no matter what you are doing these days.

(banner photo shows coffee cup beside an open laptop with a zoom meeting happening on it. Photo courtesy of Chris Montgomery on unsplash.com)

Persistence, Not Performance

As a half Korean, half white, cis gendered woman, I recognize that I have a lot of privilege in the world. As race came to the forefront (once again), I worried that my voice might not be a welcome one. There is a particular way in the US that Asians and Blacks have been pitted against one another (read about it here or here or in The Making of Asian America by Erika Lee) and so that concerned me, too. Who am I to speak up now? What right do I have? However, as I watched protests and rallies, demonstrations that went well and so many that did not, I realized that I would not stay silent.

HEARTS logo, two interlocking hearts with six colored circles (one for each of the guiding principles) making up one leg of the larger heart.

My work for the last 8 years has been around trauma informed schools (TIS), with a focus on what educators can do to reach students who have experienced trauma – with strategies that benefit everyone in the school community. Our program, Healthy Environments and Response to Trauma in Schools (HEARTS), is a whole-school prevention and intervention model. I know there are million and one trauma trainings in the world now, and one way that HEARTS differs is that we explicitly address Cultural Humility and Equity, the ways that racism, sexism, ableism and other structural oppressions can be experienced as trauma, and what educators can do in the face of that.

Early on in my work I presented to an engaged group of educators, who participated actively all day. They asked questions and shared their own strategies they had been using. I thought I was doing great! At the end of the day, I looked at the evaluations and found that several people had written, “This was a great training! But I don’t know why she talked about race.”

That was early on in my work as a presenter, and I realized that I had not done it well. I had not drawn the line between race and education for them at least in part because I was worried about doing it explicitly, if I was the right person or if they would want to hear it.

I am here to be explicit now.

Pic shows Fannie Lou Hamer testifying at the Democratic Party convention in Atlantic City in 1964

I talk about race because I believe what Fannie Lou Hamer said, “Nobody’s free until everybody’s free.” I talk about systemic racism over and over again because I know this world cannot afford to lose even one person to its pernicious effects. We all benefit when the world is equitable.

I do it in schools because for Black children, school is often the first place they personally encounter systemic oppression, as individuals. When teachers comment on the spelling of their names, or are unwilling to learn to pronounce those names. When educators assume that Black boys talk too much, aren’t able to pay attention, or can’t sit still. When staff assume that Black girls are the ones who started the scuffle on the playground.

That is why it is imperative that all educators, from superintendents to those staff people we call on in a crisis (but often pay the least), must do this work. This is not about “not being a racist.” Being a racist is not a static character trait (more about that in How to Be An Anti-Racist, by Ibram X Kendi). We live in a racist country and we ALL do and say and think racist things, because it is part of the fabric of our systems. It is not easy. We must work to be anti-racist.

Three things educators can do

Nic Stone’s post on Instagram: Sometimes you make a statement that comes form the heart (“Read books about racism, but also about black people being people and doing people sh*t."), and all of a sudden everyone wants to talk to you. I shall make the most of it.

Chatted with @goodmorningamerica and got to recommend some (more) books (pictured if you swipe). They are a completely different batch from the ones I recommended in @cosmopolitan when talking about this same thing.

New motto: if there’s a black person on the cover and also a black person on the inside back flap (ayyye #OwnVoices!), go on ahead and buy that joint. And read it.

1.      Educate yourselves – Y’all know how I feel about reading. Right here on this website you can see books that I consider important, but you don’t have to take my word for it. Check the NYT non-fiction best seller list – it’s full of good anti-racist books right now.

And not just non-fiction, either. We need to read books, as author Nic Stone said, “about Black people being people and doing people sh*t.”

Follow Black educators (@tiffanymjewel @readlikearockstar @laylafsaad @thetututeacher @britthawthorne @garyrgrayjr @theeducatorsroom) on your social media, listen to colleagues, participate in trainings. Join an affinity group (or start one) and talk with your people about what you are learning. Do not DM Black activists/educators and ask them to explain things to you. “Do your own work” does not mean do it alone, it means look to your affinity groups. There will be people in those groups far ahead of you, and people far behind. Your work is to accept help/re-direction and to offer help/re-direction. Your work is to keep at it.

2.     DO something with that education. Internally. I encourage y’all to actually do the exercises in Me and White Supremacy, by Layla F. Saad. This book steps you through thinking about your privilege, how it shows up, and what you can do about it. When you read This Book is Anti-Racist, by Tiffany Jewel, DO the activities, write out the reflections. Get the Educator Guide, use it. When you read The New Jim Crow, by Michelle Alexander, write down the ways that your life has been enhanced by these laws. Challenge yourself! Talk in your affinity group. Get vulnerable with your people, and stay in the conversation.

As Britt Hawthorne put it, “…you are not ready to do anti-bias/anti-racist/social justice work w/ your learners if you are not actively calling in/out your co-workers…when you want to teach your learners about oppression but are not willing to advocate about it in real-time then it’s performative.” If you aren’t sure how to talk to someone about racist thoughts/language, there are many books and articles you can find online, including here and here.

The work is not to ask, What do I do IF I do or say something racist, but what will I do WHEN I do or say or think something racist? Put some thought into this.

3.  Hold yourself accountable. One way to hold yourself accountable is to tell people explicitly what you are working on. I know an educator who just discovered that saying “Yaaaaas” is a cultural appropriation and is not right for her (as a non-Black person) to say (here is an article about this). She told her people that she is taking it out of her vocabulary, and asked them to remind her if she forgets. She committed with her social capital.

Once school is in session, this teacher could get her students involved. She could tell them she isn’t going to use it anymore, and why (using age appropriate language) and ask them to remind her about it. Like any good intervention, this one will take some prep work. The teacher has to be ready to make the change, and she needs to instruct students on effective communication (“You said that word again!”).

This technique gets you so much chocolate in your cake! (I’m trying to find another way to say “bang for your buck” which is so violent! Feel free to tell me your favorite).

1. She would be educating her students on cultural appropriation.

2. She would be empowering them through modeling one way to go about making a change in their own lives.

3. She is giving them some agency by letting them know they can bring it up (at least to her).

4. She can use their reminders to her as ways to model ways to call someone out – or call someone in – in a way that can be heard.

Do the work, people. We don’t have time for a performance.

(banner photo shows (my) folded arms with Nobody’s Free Until Everybody’s Free tattooed in curlicue script. Photo taken by my blind partner.)

Smile A While

Just a few minutes into my Zoom presentation on Trauma Informed Schools (TIS) recently, my lovely dog, Maite, went from fully asleep to full on alarm barking, more or less right in my face, having jumped up onto my kiddo’s bed to get close to the window. Not only could no one hear me, but I was so startled my heart rate spiked and my breath got shallow. It took me a good 30 seconds to get myself back on track. This isn’t the first time she’s startled me like that, but it hasn’t gotten any easier.

I don’t actually have any pictures of Maite in alarm bark mode, because I’m usually to startled to take one. This one shows Maite at McClaren Park in the woods with a stick in her mouth that’s about 3 times as long as she is. There are several other dogs behind her, part of her pack when she could go with a crowd to the park.

If that had happened a few years ago when I recorded my first (very bad) webinar, I think some participants might have judged me for unprofessionalism. But now? This is the new reality of Distance (crisis) Learning. These things happen all the time these days, in the form of pets, small children, partners/roommates and other surprise sounds and sights.

And this isn’t just happening in professional trainings. It is happening in K-12 classrooms, too. In many ways, I think this is a fabulous opportunity to bridge the distance that often shows up between educators and their students. Seeing and hearing bits and pieces of “real life” is a great way to build this connection.

Pic shows smiling baby face with Asian features and no teeth

I just heard from a teacher recently how much her high schoolers appreciate it when her toddler comes into view, and I know my partner’s students like to see and hear from Maite from time to time.

One way to build Compassionate and Dependable Relationships is to help students see the grown-ups at school as part of their community, as “regular” people, with good days and hard days, who are learning and growing too. Back in the long ago, this happened more naturally, as your teachers were right from your community, your aunt, or the woman who plays piano at your church. They were people you saw outside the classroom, that you heard about in the neighborhood. Now with people moving around the country much more frequently, that isn’t often the case.

Pic shows multiple smiling faces

I encourage you to be gentle with yourself and your students. To smile when your humanity shows, because this allows them to know you are not judging them or their situations. I hear teachers doing this with such grace and I hear students responding sometimes with such glee that I feel a little less hopeless about this time of crisis learning. Smile with your students as you wrap up. You’ll all feel better for it.

Healthy Environments and Response to Trauma in Schools (HEARTS) logo with HEARTS spelled vertically. Logo has two overlapping heart outlines, the larger heart has different colored circles making up one side.

Except for images I take myself, all my images come from upsplash.com a great source for free photos.

Lasting, Systemic Change

Yesterday I spent a several hours in a Zoom meeting (welcome to the new world). It was the San Francisco Unified School District Board meeting, and while that may not sound fun at first take, it was fantastic to see the student delegates passionately entering discussion, and to hear from so many community members. Lots of interesting things were discussed, including grading and other plans for going forward this year.

Another point of discussion was Resolution No. 204-14A1, To Establish Policies and Procedures for the San Francisco Unified School District to Provide Trauma-Informed, Coordinated Care that Promotes Resilience and Healing During and After the COVID-19 Pandemic, Commissioners Faauuga Moliga, Gabriela Lopez, and Allison M. Collins. Dr. Joyce Dorado, the co-founder of Healthy Environments and Response to Trauma in Schools (HEARTS), helped with the draft, working with Leslie Hu from Martin Luther King Jr. Academic Middle School, and I was there to speak in favor of it.

For those of y’all who don’t know, San Francisco Unified School District has been doing trauma-informed work for more than 10 years. There have even been stories about that work! All of the social workers in the district receive multiple days of training on trauma informed practices, trainings that are open to other folks, too. Nurses, administrators, school psychologists, para educators, PE teachers, and noon monitors have come to those and other trainings. Some schools have spent years specifically working on developing more trauma informed practices. Many other schools have begun that work, through trainings, consultations, wellness plans and other creative methods. School social workers have come up with many different ways to support students, families and educators. So much good work has already been done.

This resolution is in part a way to coordinate and consolidate all that work, to support both students and families, and also educators and support staff. It recognizes the way that this crisis is affecting all of us, and the way that it may impact people who have already experienced trauma, including structural racism and disparities. It acknowledges the way that those traumas are exacerbating the impact of the COVID-19 crisis. I was also heartened to see student and family voice included in the plan, directly in terms of gathering input on what’s needed.

I hope that this helps schools move toward lasting, systemic change. I’m glad the resolution passed, and I’m ready to support it in any way that I am able.

Healthy Environments and Response to Trauma in Schools (HEARTS) logo with HEARTS spelled vertically. Logo has two overlapping heart outlines, the larger heart has different colored circles making up one side.

Six Guiding Principles of HEARTS

Break Time

I can hardly believe the month of March is already over. My plan was to write a new post the week of the 16th, but that was when the shelter in place order for California came down, and it flipped my world, as I’m sure it has for many of you. I laughed out loud at my previous post and my desire to decrease my hours of media. I can see that number increasing already after only 2 weeks of time at home.

I can also see my privilege front and center. I have a car, a bit of savings, and am able to keep working (albeit virtually) with many of my clients. This means not only can I get to more resources, it also means I likely have less stress about the shelter in place. I know that if I wait, or go to another store, I will find toilet paper. It means I can still pay my rent (so far). It means that I have access to all that media I am so proud of not watching.

All that said, I am stressed. I lost a number of paying jobs with all the cancellations of conferences, and even though I have more free time, I find it’s difficult to focus on or complete tasks. I can feel myself on edge, quicker to judge others and even more likely to cry. I feel isolated and uncertain and have had to take a lot of deep breaths.

Your allostatic load (the stress placed on the body from repeated ups and downs) is probably high too, and giving yourself the opportunity to breathe, to stretch, to dance or sing – even for 30 seconds – will help keep your rider on your horse.

No one is better at taking a better than Maite, my Rottie (pictured above). Her message to me and all of you: give yourself lots of breaks. Y’all know I recommend a break every hour of the school day – go ahead and give that break to yourself no matter what you are doing these days. I know just thinking about distance learning is stressful for me.

Let’s do it together! Every hour at 15 minutes past, give yourself a 30 second break, and I’ll do it too. Let me know what are your favorites on Twitter or Instagram. #breaktime

Boy singing with guitar

Black boy shooting a basketball

Black woman drinking water from a glass

30 Second Breaks to Decrease Stress

Sing along with the radio

Drink some water

Act out shooting a basketball or pitching a baseball

Stretch your arms up

Dance break!

You don’t have to dance as well as thedancingteacher@yahoo.com - just have fun with it. Or just watch the video. :)

Watch

Kids in my office are often astounded to hear that I don’t own a TV. They cannot imagine what we do for fun in my house. Parents often also look surprised. I am honest – I tell them I do watch Netflix and also many years of an Italian soap opera (Un Posto al Sole since 2000) – but I can still see that they are imagining that I am some kind of deeply deviant human, someone who is able to decline the screen and have fun in some strange, old fashioned way.

The truth is I love TV just like lots of other people. I missed out on American TV when we lived in Holland, so when I got to the US, I binged. I literally watched TV from the minute I woke up (Electric Company) to the moment I fell asleep (The Honeymooners). I didn’t have any friends at first and the Georgia heat was so oppressive I would come in from school and sit right down and watch hours of sitcoms. My family watched TV during dinner (I Dream of Jeannie, The Carol Burnett Show) then current shows, The Six Million Dollar Man, Eight is Enough, The Incredible Hulk, in the evening. You get the idea.

(TV show images scrolling to the left, Un Posto al Sole, The Electric Company, The Honeymooners, I Dream of Jeannie, The Carol Burnett Show, The Six Million Dollar Man, Eight is Enough, The Incredible Hulk.)

As an adult, I decided against owning a TV. I think it was originally that I just didn’t have time for it, I was busy! But then it became a kind of lifestyle choice. I saw so many people spending so much time sitting and staring, and I didn’t want that. And while I still don’t own a TV, now I have Netflix.

Lost in Space image: Robot with a red glowing oval face “looks” down at a white boy, who looks up at it.

And guess what? I still get sucked in! I watched the new Netflix Lost in Space last year after rave reviews from some friends. I really enjoyed it, so when the same friend let me know season two was out, I was ready to watch. I made it last a few weeks, watching a half episode at a time, but all too quickly, it was over.

Y’all know what happened next, right? Yeah, I found another show, conveniently recommended by Netflix. I found myself working on another part of my book with the show on “in the background,” but I realized after the next, next episode started automatically (great programming, Netflix) that far from being in the background, the show was taking up all of my attention, and I was “stuck” in the same place I had been half an hour before.

I admit that I am sometimes smugly proud of my detachment from my phone, social media and video content. The truth of the matter is that I am just as attached as anyone else. Media companies spend millions trying to get (and hold) our attention. And they are very good at it. I wish I had some easy idea on how to manage this, but the only way I am able to keep my consumption low is by not watching AT ALL. If I don’t watch at all for a while, I can stay away.

Listen

I’m writing a book. Well, I suppose it’s more honest to say I was writing a book. I started at the end of the last school year, and got some good work done, but at a certain point I become convinced I was not going to be able to manage it. In part I wondered if anyone would want to read a book about what we can do about racial trauma in schools. I hear from educators regularly that they appreciate my talk, all except for the part about racism. Sometimes they tell me they don’t see how racism is connected to public education. Sometimes they tell me that while racism might be at work in other places, in their town/city/school, that isn’t the case.

The other part I wonder about is if I’m the right person to write it. Don’t get me wrong, there are days when I feel extra-super competent, like I offered someone just the right support or presented difficult material in just the right way…but there are many days when I doubt my abilities.

I wonder if I’m good enough, if I’m skilled enough, if I really know enough to make useful suggestions. I wonder if anyone will read what I write or if they do that it will be helpful to them. All these wonderings become worries, and worries have a way of interrupting the writing. They get so big I cannot think around them.

Over the last few months, I’ve opened up the book document many times, looked over the 15 thousand words I already have and then go completely blank. It’s infuriating and demoralizing. Thinking about it today I was reminded of this poem by Shel Silverstein:

“Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.” Shel Silverstein

I realized that I’ve been listening to my own version of the mustn’ts, don’ts and impossibles, and that I’ve let them get in the way.

I was also reminded recently that writing is a creative act, and is more about getting the words out into the world than convincing anyone to read them. I have written all of my life, and the urge to get the words out used to be much stronger than the mustn’ts. I spent some time remembering why I started this project today, and I am ready to start again.

I’m officially back at it, folx. I’ll keep you updated.

Image shows middle grade child right hand writing with a pencil, other arm folded on the desk

Trauma Conference?

I was invited to a conference with a trauma focus, which happens much more frequently these days, as “trauma-informed” gains momentum. Ten years ago it was a rare event. I’m always interested in learning something new, so I checked out the keynote speakers. I read the bio and work focus of the first speaker and was right away engaged. I want to know all about their work! Then I checked the second one. This person had a website and had started a group, and was all about training mental health folks (“from new practitioners to people with 20 years in the field”) all about their method.

In case you can’t tell, I started to feel judgmental. I know it’s weird to admit, but I do judge people. I was feeling particularly irritated by what I was reading as a patronizing approach – that everyone, from newbies to experienced practitioners should be using this method. I see myself as a lifelong learner – and certainly I think it’s good for people to continue to learn as they grow in their practice. However, this felt a little formulaic, like, “if only everyone did this the way I do, everything would be better.”

It didn’t help that on their website, they are posed with their arms across their chest, smiling proudly.

So, what do I do when I’m feeling judge-y? I try to pause. On this day, I told myself I was judging, and I told myself to be open minded, after all, there is a foundation, and several books! I decided to listen to a podcast with them (focused on trauma). The person talked about their own tough times, and I was like, “See Martha, don’t judge.” And how their tough times led them to the work that they are doing today. Which seems to me to be really good work. I let the podcast play as I looked at their foundation website.

There I found some blog posts about cultural awareness and practice. Yay! Bonus points. Written by a guest author! Cool, since the person who started the foundation is white. Once again, I chided myself for being judgmental. Clearly this person does understand since they got a guest writer to write about this important topic. Only oops, the guest writer is also white.

Meanwhile on the podcast, the interviewer asks the keynote to tell about a clinical error, and what they learned from it. And the keynote person basically says, “well, I did this thing in a not very skillful way – I don’t think it hurt anyone, but I really realized that it could, and so now I’m very careful.” It sounds like I’m paraphrasing, but I’m not. In essence, they sidestepped the question. Then the interviewer thanked them, as if something important had been said. (You see that I’m back to judging again, right?)

I started thinking about the other teens who were there when he was offered this leadership role. I do believe in offering kids leadership roles.

I believe that people who have been impacted by trauma do gain confidence and a sense of agency by being asked to lead. It’s a great strategy/intervention and acknowledgment of their many skills, sometimes learned because of the trauma they have faced.

However, thinking of this white male teen in Juvenile Hall, a place that was likely not mostly white (I recognize that I’m making a bit of an assumption, but there are plenty of actual numbers on this) being offered a leadership role and it changing his life…made me feel a little sick. I listened on, hoping he would mention his power and privilege in that moment, but he didn’t. His brief comment about mentors and loving people who helped turned my stomach a little more, because it seemed as if he was saying they were not very important.

I want to be clear, I do not think this person is a terrible person or even that they do not do good work. They may be doing great work and helping lots of people. They are working with a tough population and I’m glad that they are doing that work. However, doing trauma work MUST include attention to sociocultural trauma (e.g., racism, sexism, ableism), which includes doing your own work, checking on your own power and privilege, and acknowledging those forces. I don’t believe that we can call our work trauma therapy without it.

In the end, I didn’t sign up. There are plenty of conferences out there, I’ll wait for one that’s a little better aligned with my work.

Encore, NCORE

I just got back from the National Conference on Race and Ethnicity in American Higher Education (NCORE) for 2019. I had never even heard of it until last year, when my friend and colleague from Elk Grove asked me if I was going. I owe her a debt of gratitude, as these conferences are transformational for me. It was the first conference I had ever been to where the majority of presenters were people of color. And there aren’t just two sessions to pick from in each time slot – there are a dozen – sometimes more!

This year there were more than 350 sessions from Tuesday to Saturday. There were so many great topics to choose from! Even though I selected my sessions weeks/days/hours before I still found myself standing in the middle of the hallway deciding which session to go over and over again. Given the situation, I will not try to tell you about every single thing I learned. I’ll just focus on a few.

My favorite keynote was Tommy Orange, an author born and raised right here across the bridge in Oakland. He is an enrolled member of the Cheyenne and Arapaho Tribes of Oklahoma, and his first novel, There There is about contemporary Native American life, set in Oakland. The story follows a dozen characters making their way to the big Oakland Powwow. It was on my list at the library, but while watching him speak at the conference, I bought a digital copy. There was something in the conversation that moved me, that connected with the parts of me and my life that are unrepresented in the world, and I knew I had to read it right away.

I went to a great session on improving your skills as a facilitator, The Facilitator In You: Leading Conversations Around Diversity, Equity and Inclusion. I learned a bunch of new things and felt so…validated, just being in the room with other people doing the work. So many frustrations, worries and successes. I often feel alone in the work – I know there are people who cringe when they see me coming. I know when I bring up race and other social justice topics, there are people rolling their eyes and wishing I would just. shut. up. It was rejuvenating to be in a room full of people deep in the work. And I learned so much! Bonus points.

My favorite session, though, was my first session – Preserving, Restoring and Honoring Indigenous Ways in Agriculture: Directions and Implications in Higher Education. There was a wide diversity in presenters, also, which I found a perfect way to begin my NCORE experience. This wasn’t just the old guard talking about how it’s always been done, it was about getting creative for our collective future. Besides learning a lot of completely new information, the participants were phenomenal. They were patient with my ignorance and careful in their instruction. They welcomed me with open arms.

I am truly grateful for my experiences this week. That said, I’m interested in what kinds of conferences you all are attending this year. There are so many things to learn in the world – feel free to leave a comment letting me know about your favorite conference!