A commercial from the 1990s displayed NBA legend Michael Jordan narrating all of his stats. But, instead of mentioning his NBA Championships, MVP Awards, Scoring Titles, and All-Star accolades, Jordan rattles off the number of shots he has missed, the number of games he has lost, the number of times he was trusted to take a game winning shot and missed and how failure was a neccesary ingredient in his success.
A very interesting and humbling perspective, even from Air Jordan himself. Somehow, and I know I sound incredibly old in saying this, I can not imagine many of today's starts declaring their shortcomings so openly. I'd even go so far as to say that even Nike no longer wants to tell any of its athletes who they should be or how they should behave...right?
Regardless of the current state of professional athletics (compared to the "Golden Age" of my childhood), Jordan's philosophy on the importance of failure resonated with me back as a teenager and remains with me today. As an educator, I see that a willingness to fail is a trait found in good learners. As the father of a 7 month old daughter, I see this philosophy lived out every day.
With eating under her belt, Elizabeth has shifted her focus to crawling. Able to creep, Elizabeth has not yet mastered the art of moving forward on all fours. Belly flops, rolls, tangled legs and incessant rocking followed by screams and wails have all been a part of her learning-how-to-crawl process. She's close, and will probably be crawling soon, but she probably just needs to fail a few more times so she can figure it out.
In addition to education taking time and effort (see the May 15 post), it also takes a willingness to fail, and in turn, failure itself. So, as educators, we must couple holding students accountable to high academic and moral statnds with loving support, nurturing and care. Right now, Elizabeth has a curiosity and love for exploration that is truly inspiring. She also has a determined spirit, and at this point a blind courage. Failure to eat, crawl or find her pacificer at night (even multiple pacifiers that have been strategically sprinkled in her crib) has not deterred her from trying.
Hopefully, this love for learning and her willingness to take risks will continue into toddler-hood, childhood, adolesence and beyond. Whether it is an unwavering self-confidence or an iron will, the older we get the less likely we are to tackle new challenges. For most of us, at some point in our lives we start to believe the lies of the one who wishes to keep us from becoming who God created us to be. You're not smart enough. You're not pretty/handsome enough. Savvy, strong, well-rounded, disciplined, healthy enough. You're too young. Too old. You're not good enough.
You are a sinner.
And so we stop trying. We stop challenging ourselves and growing. Maybe (and unfortunately) teachers, parents or even friends have reinforced these negative feelings. Maybe the pain of a particular failure, rejection or loss was too deep and the support needed to overcome it too shallow.
And in no longer trying we no longer fail and in turn gain control over the pain. We never have to worry about living down to the disappointment of missing a game winning shot if we always pass to another player, stay on the bench, watch it from the stands or critique it the next day at the water cooler. Playing it safe means we never fail.
It is encumbent upon Catholic educators to kindle the flame inherent in each of us for greatness. We must handle this light with extreme care and caution. The USCCB's Council for Catholic Education states (1998), "Teaching has an extraordinary moral depth and is one of man's most excellent and creative activities, for the teacher does not write on inanimate material but on the very spirits of human beings. The personal relations between teacher and student, therefore, assume an enormous importance."
Catholic educators, approach every day and every student knowing that you affect eternity.
The World already has too many wandering people with extinquished flames.
It has too many people so afraid of failing that they never even try.
It has too many would be saints wallowing in the mud figuring there's no point in getting up- they'll just fall again anyways.
What it needs is more failures, more people who realize that in order to be successful failure is an option.
It's just not the only option.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Get Dirty- You May Just Learn Something
Elizabeth is currently learning how to eat. Starting on her 6th month birthday with rice cereal, we spent the first week watching the food get shoved into her mouth only to have it ooze back out. More would end up on her face, hands, bib, and us than in her belly.
Sensing the need to introduce something more exotic with which to tantalize her taste buds, Emily and I turned to the delectable pea to improve Elizabeth's gastronomic chances. And, for the ensuing week we noticed a change- the color of the food on her face, hands, bib and us.
According to one of the many baby books lining our shelves and being read by my wife, it takes an average of 15 tries before an infant will truly like or dislike a certain food. So, on we pressed. Also recognizing that Elizabeth was fighting two battles, the taste and the technique, we were not discouraged by our collective lack of success. We were just green, literally and figuratively.
And then, after what was our 5th attempt at peas, Elizabeth grabbed the spoon, guided it into her mouth, took the peas off of said spoon, kept said peas in her mouth...and swallowed! Multiple times! Even though our success last Thursday was coupled with an icky face (it's incredible that they are innate) and a few small convulsions, Elizabeth ate just about the entire serving.
As I reflected on how proud I was, I also noticed two educational lessons emerge:
1. Education takes time.
2. Education takes effort.
First, Elizabeth didn't just start eating the first time we tried. Although she had expressed a sincere interest in all things related to food for the past three months, she had absolutely no idea what to do. Despite modeling the proper technique and eating both rice cereal and peas to show her how easily it can be accomplished, it took- and will continue to take- countless times for Elizabeth to actually perfect this technique. Her progression over the course of the past two weeks went something like this:
1. Food being forced into her open mouth and spilling back out.
2. Food being forced into her open mouth via spoon, yet ending up all over via her spitting it back out. Touching the food with her hands and moving her head and closing her mouth so as to stay cereal and pea-free.
3. Elizabeth grabbing for the spoon and guiding the contents all over the kitchen. Wrestling the spoon away from the hand feeding her and using the spoon as a conductor's baton.
4. Elizabeth guiding the spoon into her mouth and the swallowing!
Many, if not all, academic pursuits follow a similar pattern. We don't read sentences, paragraphs, books or even words before we recognize letters and know their many and varied sounds. We can't multiply until we can add. We don't run until we first walk. The expert in anything was once a beginner, and the progression from the former to the latter takes time.
It also takes effort. Education takes a willingness to roll up your sleeves (or don your bib) and get dirty. Education inherently involves mistakes, errors and failures. We test out new concepts, we compare them to ones we've already come to understand. When learning to ride a bike we fall and scrape our elbows and knees. When learning anything we suffer through (if we are to learn it) analogous bumps and bruises and pea-covered clothes. Education is messy and that's okay.
The writing process exemplifies these two educational ingredients: time and effort. Not only does the process and its steps require time, they also demand effort. Even as I've penned this (and yes, I still do some pre-writing planning and organization and even some first drafts by hand) I've made numerous revisions and edits, cross-outs and carrots. Prior to even putting an idea on paper, though, I engaged in thinking and planning. The finished product before you on the screen is similar to, but yet different from, what would be considered my first draft. If it weren't for the mess of my edits and rewrites this final draft would be littered with misspellings (my nimble fingers like to type the as "teh"), split infinitives and even run-on sentences and fragments (actually, I've used a good number of fragments in this blog- sorry). These edits and revisions take time and effort. Sometimes, especially if maximum time and effort are spent, the final draft is completely different than the first. Usually, if not always, this is a good thing and the finished product was time and energy well spent.
Recognizing these two essential components to education can also help us to recognize that learning perseverance and hard work is far more valuable than learning a particular skill or concept. In fact, learning how to roll-up your sleeves and buckle-up for a long, dirty haul can help us to learn just about anything...
...even how to get peas out of clothing.
Sensing the need to introduce something more exotic with which to tantalize her taste buds, Emily and I turned to the delectable pea to improve Elizabeth's gastronomic chances. And, for the ensuing week we noticed a change- the color of the food on her face, hands, bib and us.
According to one of the many baby books lining our shelves and being read by my wife, it takes an average of 15 tries before an infant will truly like or dislike a certain food. So, on we pressed. Also recognizing that Elizabeth was fighting two battles, the taste and the technique, we were not discouraged by our collective lack of success. We were just green, literally and figuratively.
And then, after what was our 5th attempt at peas, Elizabeth grabbed the spoon, guided it into her mouth, took the peas off of said spoon, kept said peas in her mouth...and swallowed! Multiple times! Even though our success last Thursday was coupled with an icky face (it's incredible that they are innate) and a few small convulsions, Elizabeth ate just about the entire serving.
As I reflected on how proud I was, I also noticed two educational lessons emerge:
1. Education takes time.
2. Education takes effort.
First, Elizabeth didn't just start eating the first time we tried. Although she had expressed a sincere interest in all things related to food for the past three months, she had absolutely no idea what to do. Despite modeling the proper technique and eating both rice cereal and peas to show her how easily it can be accomplished, it took- and will continue to take- countless times for Elizabeth to actually perfect this technique. Her progression over the course of the past two weeks went something like this:
1. Food being forced into her open mouth and spilling back out.
2. Food being forced into her open mouth via spoon, yet ending up all over via her spitting it back out. Touching the food with her hands and moving her head and closing her mouth so as to stay cereal and pea-free.
3. Elizabeth grabbing for the spoon and guiding the contents all over the kitchen. Wrestling the spoon away from the hand feeding her and using the spoon as a conductor's baton.
4. Elizabeth guiding the spoon into her mouth and the swallowing!
Many, if not all, academic pursuits follow a similar pattern. We don't read sentences, paragraphs, books or even words before we recognize letters and know their many and varied sounds. We can't multiply until we can add. We don't run until we first walk. The expert in anything was once a beginner, and the progression from the former to the latter takes time.
It also takes effort. Education takes a willingness to roll up your sleeves (or don your bib) and get dirty. Education inherently involves mistakes, errors and failures. We test out new concepts, we compare them to ones we've already come to understand. When learning to ride a bike we fall and scrape our elbows and knees. When learning anything we suffer through (if we are to learn it) analogous bumps and bruises and pea-covered clothes. Education is messy and that's okay.
The writing process exemplifies these two educational ingredients: time and effort. Not only does the process and its steps require time, they also demand effort. Even as I've penned this (and yes, I still do some pre-writing planning and organization and even some first drafts by hand) I've made numerous revisions and edits, cross-outs and carrots. Prior to even putting an idea on paper, though, I engaged in thinking and planning. The finished product before you on the screen is similar to, but yet different from, what would be considered my first draft. If it weren't for the mess of my edits and rewrites this final draft would be littered with misspellings (my nimble fingers like to type the as "teh"), split infinitives and even run-on sentences and fragments (actually, I've used a good number of fragments in this blog- sorry). These edits and revisions take time and effort. Sometimes, especially if maximum time and effort are spent, the final draft is completely different than the first. Usually, if not always, this is a good thing and the finished product was time and energy well spent.
Recognizing these two essential components to education can also help us to recognize that learning perseverance and hard work is far more valuable than learning a particular skill or concept. In fact, learning how to roll-up your sleeves and buckle-up for a long, dirty haul can help us to learn just about anything...
...even how to get peas out of clothing.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
A Comfort Level With Being Uncomfortable
If you are wearing a watch while reading this, stop for a moment and put it on your other wrist.
If your wrists are void of a timepiece, try operating your mouse or touch screen with your non-dominant hand.
Or, simply interlock your fingers with both hands. Now, continue reading this post but stagger your digits in the other direction (if your rights ended up on top of your lefts, switch your grip so that the lefts are on top).
Feel weird? Uncomfortable? Maybe even annoying?
Being creatures of habit and routine, we do not like it when the world we had once come to expect and accept is thrown off (even with something as trivial as the writs on which we wear our watches).
However, it is the nature of all education that old knowledge is surpassed by new. The familiar is disregarded for the foreign. The comfortable forsaken for the uncharted. All new knowledge is the product of putting our once held beliefs to the test and either retaining or adjusting them.
Education depends on this state of instability.
I see it every day in Elizabeth. New discoveries. New talents. New noises. Her world is in a constant state of flux.
Imagine education from this perspective. We take our prior knowledge and to it either add new knowledge or change our former way of thinking based on this new phenomenon. Not all four legged animals are dogs? Some things, like apples, are to be eaten, while others, like blocks and toes, shouldn't go in my mouth? In math, we are going to solve for a letter that's on the wrong side of the equal sign? America wasn't always the greatest and most powerful country in the world? Bad things can happen to good people? The Earth isn't flat? It's not the center of the universe either?
Imagine how basic and elementary our lives would be if we were unwilling to live in this state of discomfort in order to grow to new knowledge.
So, the saying you can't teach an old dog new tricks has more to do with attitude than aptitude. At some point in our lives, many of us grow tired of changing and feeling uncomfortable. The ever changing world of our childhood settles down, becomes a bit more predictable and we become set in our ways. When it comes to "old dogs", it's not that we can't learn something new, it's that we don't want to.
As Catholic educators, the current Easter season should teach us a bit about the educational process. Call it the greatest twist ever- the apostles find the tomb empty.
What?
Even for Jesus' closest companions, this was a hard lesson to learn. While I'm sure they were completely overjoyed because Jesus rose from the dead, they were most likely in various states of disbelief. Imagine their unease, their anxiousness, their discomfort. Even for people who had witnessed all sorts of miracles, including Lazarus coming back from the dead, walking, talking, eating, and being with a "Resurrected" person must have been unnerving.
Someone must have stolen the body. Maybe we have the wrong tomb. Someone is playing a trick on us. We're hallucinating. Dreaming. Dead ourselves.
Jesus is dead (old knowledge). Correction: Jesus was dead (new knowledge).
Talk about a paradigm shift. Thomas offers the greatest insight into this unrest caused by the Resurrection. Show me your wounds. Let me touch them. Prove to me that it is You, Jesus. Is Thomas that different from a student grappling with a new concept? Explain it to me again. Give me another example. Let me try it myself. I'm willing to accept that what you're teaching me is true, but I need to experience it for myself.
There is a discomfort involved with education. There is also an element of risk.
Let us keep our comfort with being uncomfortable. In turn, let us keep this fire alive in our students. Let us continue to give them the confidence to do that which they don't think is possible-- perform in a talent show, learn algebra, try out for a team, stand up for what is right, become the person God created them to be.
If we nurture this spirit in our students, we must keep own candles burning. Let it never be said of Catholic educators of any age that we're too old, or too unwilling, to learn new tricks.
Expect to be surprised. Be open and willing to change. Try something new. Learn something new. Become the educator that God created you to be.
There would be no Church if the disciples were unwilling to accept that a dead Man could defeat death. Similarly, there can be no education unless we have a comfort level with being uncomfortable.
If your wrists are void of a timepiece, try operating your mouse or touch screen with your non-dominant hand.
Or, simply interlock your fingers with both hands. Now, continue reading this post but stagger your digits in the other direction (if your rights ended up on top of your lefts, switch your grip so that the lefts are on top).
Feel weird? Uncomfortable? Maybe even annoying?
Being creatures of habit and routine, we do not like it when the world we had once come to expect and accept is thrown off (even with something as trivial as the writs on which we wear our watches).
However, it is the nature of all education that old knowledge is surpassed by new. The familiar is disregarded for the foreign. The comfortable forsaken for the uncharted. All new knowledge is the product of putting our once held beliefs to the test and either retaining or adjusting them.
Education depends on this state of instability.
I see it every day in Elizabeth. New discoveries. New talents. New noises. Her world is in a constant state of flux.
Imagine education from this perspective. We take our prior knowledge and to it either add new knowledge or change our former way of thinking based on this new phenomenon. Not all four legged animals are dogs? Some things, like apples, are to be eaten, while others, like blocks and toes, shouldn't go in my mouth? In math, we are going to solve for a letter that's on the wrong side of the equal sign? America wasn't always the greatest and most powerful country in the world? Bad things can happen to good people? The Earth isn't flat? It's not the center of the universe either?
Imagine how basic and elementary our lives would be if we were unwilling to live in this state of discomfort in order to grow to new knowledge.
So, the saying you can't teach an old dog new tricks has more to do with attitude than aptitude. At some point in our lives, many of us grow tired of changing and feeling uncomfortable. The ever changing world of our childhood settles down, becomes a bit more predictable and we become set in our ways. When it comes to "old dogs", it's not that we can't learn something new, it's that we don't want to.
As Catholic educators, the current Easter season should teach us a bit about the educational process. Call it the greatest twist ever- the apostles find the tomb empty.
What?
Even for Jesus' closest companions, this was a hard lesson to learn. While I'm sure they were completely overjoyed because Jesus rose from the dead, they were most likely in various states of disbelief. Imagine their unease, their anxiousness, their discomfort. Even for people who had witnessed all sorts of miracles, including Lazarus coming back from the dead, walking, talking, eating, and being with a "Resurrected" person must have been unnerving.
Someone must have stolen the body. Maybe we have the wrong tomb. Someone is playing a trick on us. We're hallucinating. Dreaming. Dead ourselves.
Jesus is dead (old knowledge). Correction: Jesus was dead (new knowledge).
Talk about a paradigm shift. Thomas offers the greatest insight into this unrest caused by the Resurrection. Show me your wounds. Let me touch them. Prove to me that it is You, Jesus. Is Thomas that different from a student grappling with a new concept? Explain it to me again. Give me another example. Let me try it myself. I'm willing to accept that what you're teaching me is true, but I need to experience it for myself.
There is a discomfort involved with education. There is also an element of risk.
Let us keep our comfort with being uncomfortable. In turn, let us keep this fire alive in our students. Let us continue to give them the confidence to do that which they don't think is possible-- perform in a talent show, learn algebra, try out for a team, stand up for what is right, become the person God created them to be.
If we nurture this spirit in our students, we must keep own candles burning. Let it never be said of Catholic educators of any age that we're too old, or too unwilling, to learn new tricks.
Expect to be surprised. Be open and willing to change. Try something new. Learn something new. Become the educator that God created you to be.
There would be no Church if the disciples were unwilling to accept that a dead Man could defeat death. Similarly, there can be no education unless we have a comfort level with being uncomfortable.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Thank God for this Friday
No event in the history of the world makes a stronger argument for the connection among our minds, bodies and souls than Jesus' Way of the Cross, commemorated today on Good Friday.
His excruciating walk up to the top of Golgatha to be crucified after what was a long and painful night and morning of whipping, hitting, mockery, scourging, and abuse was somewhat common for the brutal, vicious, and volience-oriented society in which Jesus lived.
Uncommon was Jesus' physical strength to make it all the way to the top of the hill, endure the nails piercing his hands and feet and the time he spent hanging from the cross. This wasn't the death of Superman, with the ability to fly, heat vision and cold breath. Jesus was not superhuman; He was fully human. Therefore, His ability to endure this amount of pain and torture was the product of an intimate and most perfectly balanced connection among His mind, body and soul.
Scientists speculate that many would have been so weakened after His brutal torture that they would have been unable to carry their cross. Jesus Himself falls three times on His way up and Simon of Cyrene is pressed into helping Jesus carry the cross. But He makes it.
Furthermore, the intensity of the nails piercing His skin, especially in the places where they were supposedly driven (think about how sensitive your hands and feet are) would have been another instance where most humans would have either passed out or passed into death. Jesus, however, endures.
Finally, though, His body does succumb to death.
But, this Via Dolorosa gives us insight on how to overcome both the desires and weakness of our flesh and the tricks and lies of our minds: faith. Jesus believed He was following God's will. Similar to when an athlete, beyond the point of exhaustion, manages to find the endurance to sprint across the finish line, allowing our spirit to break through both our minds and our bodies can allow for the spirit to enter the world and in doing so, allow for the miraculous.
A soldier facing an enemy to ensure freedom. A student standing up to a bully to fight for a classmate being picked on. A surgeon working for hours to save a patient. A janitor brightening more than just the floors and bathrooms to include people's days. A woman in labor giving birth to her newborn child. All of these entail the spirit breaking through both the mind and body in such a way that something miraculous occurs.
When we follow our purpose, and focus on it with a spiritual hunger, we can overcome our physical limitations ("I'm just one person, what can I do?"), or our mental ones ("Everyone will think I'm crazy," "I'll be made fun of," "I'm so afraid of what will happen to me," etc.).
We call Jesus, "The Way," because He Himself said, "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life" (John 14:6). And we call Him this because He came to show us the way-- to live, to die, to, if we follow Him all the way up to the cross, conquer death.
"Follow me," He says (Mark 1:17 and Matthew 4:19). Not just during the miracles. Not just during the good times. Not just during your triumphs, joys and successes. I can't promise that this life with Me will be easy, just worth it.
Jesus, we thank you for giving us this example of how to balance our minds, bodies and souls. We thank you for loving us to the point of death. We thank you for this Friday.
For, without this Friday, Sunday would be just another day of the week and our lives would be nothing more than time spent here on Earth.
Thank you, Jesus.
His excruciating walk up to the top of Golgatha to be crucified after what was a long and painful night and morning of whipping, hitting, mockery, scourging, and abuse was somewhat common for the brutal, vicious, and volience-oriented society in which Jesus lived.
Uncommon was Jesus' physical strength to make it all the way to the top of the hill, endure the nails piercing his hands and feet and the time he spent hanging from the cross. This wasn't the death of Superman, with the ability to fly, heat vision and cold breath. Jesus was not superhuman; He was fully human. Therefore, His ability to endure this amount of pain and torture was the product of an intimate and most perfectly balanced connection among His mind, body and soul.
Scientists speculate that many would have been so weakened after His brutal torture that they would have been unable to carry their cross. Jesus Himself falls three times on His way up and Simon of Cyrene is pressed into helping Jesus carry the cross. But He makes it.
Furthermore, the intensity of the nails piercing His skin, especially in the places where they were supposedly driven (think about how sensitive your hands and feet are) would have been another instance where most humans would have either passed out or passed into death. Jesus, however, endures.
Finally, though, His body does succumb to death.
But, this Via Dolorosa gives us insight on how to overcome both the desires and weakness of our flesh and the tricks and lies of our minds: faith. Jesus believed He was following God's will. Similar to when an athlete, beyond the point of exhaustion, manages to find the endurance to sprint across the finish line, allowing our spirit to break through both our minds and our bodies can allow for the spirit to enter the world and in doing so, allow for the miraculous.
A soldier facing an enemy to ensure freedom. A student standing up to a bully to fight for a classmate being picked on. A surgeon working for hours to save a patient. A janitor brightening more than just the floors and bathrooms to include people's days. A woman in labor giving birth to her newborn child. All of these entail the spirit breaking through both the mind and body in such a way that something miraculous occurs.
When we follow our purpose, and focus on it with a spiritual hunger, we can overcome our physical limitations ("I'm just one person, what can I do?"), or our mental ones ("Everyone will think I'm crazy," "I'll be made fun of," "I'm so afraid of what will happen to me," etc.).
We call Jesus, "The Way," because He Himself said, "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life" (John 14:6). And we call Him this because He came to show us the way-- to live, to die, to, if we follow Him all the way up to the cross, conquer death.
"Follow me," He says (Mark 1:17 and Matthew 4:19). Not just during the miracles. Not just during the good times. Not just during your triumphs, joys and successes. I can't promise that this life with Me will be easy, just worth it.
Jesus, we thank you for giving us this example of how to balance our minds, bodies and souls. We thank you for loving us to the point of death. We thank you for this Friday.
For, without this Friday, Sunday would be just another day of the week and our lives would be nothing more than time spent here on Earth.
Thank you, Jesus.
Monday, April 18, 2011
The Heart of the Matter
"If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing" (1 Corinthians 13:1 - 3).
To continue with my topic (don't worry, I won't bore you to sleep by talking about...) of the connection among our minds, bodies and souls, I thought a good place to start was with this famous passage from Paul's letter to the Corinthians. Oftentimes, our minds can work better when we've taken care of our bodies. But, without the concurrent development of our souls/spirits, we run the risk of being vain and/or arrogant. Become too healthy and vanity and pride can consume us. Become too intelligent and arrogance and superiority can overrun us.
To paraphrase St. Paul, "If I am beyond smart and know all there is to know about everything, but have not grown spiritually, I am just a bunch of hot air. Likewise, if I can bench press any object and move my body in any direction at any moment, but have not taken care of my spirit, than I am as useful as a solar powered flashlight."
Our spirit/soul/heart must be the starting point. It must be the focus. Start with the spiritual, or at least allow it to rule the other two aspects of our being, and our minds and bodies become tools, implements, instruments, weapons for the good and not our own selfish gain.
Not all are called to a cloistered life. Similarly, most of us are not mystics. Too much of an emphasis on the spiritual life can lead to zealous righteousness or contemplative bliss. While a lifestyle completely wrapped in prayer has its merit, most of us are called to live out our faith intelligently. In other words, we must act. We must act because of love. We must act out of love in effective, efficient, and intelligent ways.
Therefore, we must take care of the bodies given to us as spirit vessels. Likewise, we must develop our minds so that we can do the most good for the most possible. Finally, we must grow in faith so that we can come to understand God's will for us and carry it out to the best of our abilities.
All three parts working together. Dependent and reliant upon each other. Interconnected and intertwined. Inseparable.
Three parts in one person.
Made, intelligently and with great love, in the image and likeness of our Creator.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Hit the Snooze: Sleep, Continued
My recent obsession with and lack of sleep continues. This reached an all-time new height this past weekend, when Emily and I got a good chuckle...okay, a belly aching laugh, out of a passage from Richard Ferber's (M.D.) famous book, "Solve Your Child's Sleep Problems". Talking about the dangers of negative sleep associations (such as being rocked to sleep or held and then, once asleep, placed in a crib), Dr. Ferber writes:
Not very happy, indeed, but extremely funny.
Right?
Right?
And, on top of having a 5 month old who we are trying to teach how to fall asleep on her own, the NCAA Championship game starts at 9:23 p.m. EST.
Snooze button users of the world, unite.
Go ahead, and hit it. Not only will you get a few precious moments of shut eye, you'll also have a sense of control over the dreaded wake-up call, "You can't tell me it's time to get up, Alarm Clock, you vile fiend!"
But, snoozing, unless it's for a significant amount of time in between snoozes, does little to help us feel more well rested.
Before proceeding, a confession: I use/abuse (is there a difference for snoozers?) the snooze button. And, as mentioned in a previous blog, I do not get enough sleep. This is not necessarily a result of becoming a parent, though. I've always been a lousy sleeper. Elizabeth has merely compounded, not caused, my sleep deficiency.
Another point of clarification before proceeding: Despite my posturing last blog, I fully understand and appreciate the importance of sleep, not just for a newborn, infant, toddler, child, teenager, or adult but every person. What's more is that Elizabeth does get a good amount of sleep throughout the course of the day; it just doesn't all come at night. Her trouble sleeping at night and "through the night" are things that Emily and I are very concerned about, for our own sakes if not just for hers.
As a self-professed "athlete" (even though I don't regularly participate in competitive sports anymore), I firmly understand the connection between our bodies and our minds and among those two and our souls. Our minds don't function well when we've filled our bodies with too much sugar, fat, caffeine, or when we deprive our bodies of certain vitamins and minerals, water or sleep. Our minds function even more poorly when with additions or subtractions that are even worse than those listed above.
I must confess again (Lent is a penitential season, after all): even though I watch what I eat, I strive for moderation as opposed to obsession. Therefore, my diet is not void of sweets, fried food or an overabundance of peanuts, peanut butter and cereal. I love to eat; I just try to moderate my intake and maintain a healthy balance of different types of foods.
The 2004 documentary, "Supersize Me", brought to our country's and world's attention the dangers of unhealthy eating. Attempting to eat nothing but McDonald's fare for 3 meals a day for 30 days, Morgan Spurlock, the movie's director and guinea pig, (SPOILER ALERT) is advised by day 21 to stop the diet due to the health complications it caused.
Knowing the importance to our overall health, Catholic Schools should pay attention to what students are eating- not only in the cafeteria but also in the classrooms during class parties and celebrations. As an administrator, it is frustrating to deal with disciplinary problems that result from a school provided sugar-high and subsequent crash (the interruption to instructional time is another issue/frustration).
I believe that if students ate healthier, more well balanced diets, their performance in school would increase.
Likewise, I believe that exercise is another key ingredient in this recipe for academic and behavioral success. Play 60 is a campaign by the frozen NFL encouraging kids to get a total of at least 60 minutes of moderate exercise every day. Just as with eating, the benefits to such a lifestyle are not limited to children.
Finally, getting adequate sleep is another staple in this formula. Growing up, my grandmother would always say that my brother, sister and I (and all children) grow while we sleep. I'm uncertain as to whether this hypothesis was ever validated or not, but it makes sense that we'd function with greater efficiency if we were more well rested. I know I'm a better husband, father, principal, friend and man when I get more than 6 hours of sleep at night.
While it may seem overly holistic and simplistic, I wonder how many academic and behavioral problems could be avoided and/or corrected if we watched our diets, got regular exercise and even acquired the recommended allotment of sleep.
I also wonder if it's okay if we start all of these things tomorrow?
Call it a day-long snooze.
Now imagine this person, instead of just taking your pillow, actually moves you from your bed to another room, without waking you. Every night you go to sleep in your bed with everything just as you like it, only to wake after your first sleep cycle on, say the floor of the living room. Unless you're an exceptionally tolerant sleeper, you won't even try to go back to sleep right there; you will get up and head back to your bedroom...Once you calm down, you will fall back asleep-- but some ninety minutes later you'll wake up again on the living room floor and again locked out of your bedroom...Soon you might be resisting sleep in hopes of identifying the person who keeps moving you; in other words, you might have trouble falling asleep even in your own bed because you know that you'll be moved once you fall asleep. If that happened to you every night, you would not be very happy. (Ferber 66-67)
Not very happy, indeed, but extremely funny.
Right?
Right?
And, on top of having a 5 month old who we are trying to teach how to fall asleep on her own, the NCAA Championship game starts at 9:23 p.m. EST.
Snooze button users of the world, unite.
Go ahead, and hit it. Not only will you get a few precious moments of shut eye, you'll also have a sense of control over the dreaded wake-up call, "You can't tell me it's time to get up, Alarm Clock, you vile fiend!"
But, snoozing, unless it's for a significant amount of time in between snoozes, does little to help us feel more well rested.
Before proceeding, a confession: I use/abuse (is there a difference for snoozers?) the snooze button. And, as mentioned in a previous blog, I do not get enough sleep. This is not necessarily a result of becoming a parent, though. I've always been a lousy sleeper. Elizabeth has merely compounded, not caused, my sleep deficiency.
Another point of clarification before proceeding: Despite my posturing last blog, I fully understand and appreciate the importance of sleep, not just for a newborn, infant, toddler, child, teenager, or adult but every person. What's more is that Elizabeth does get a good amount of sleep throughout the course of the day; it just doesn't all come at night. Her trouble sleeping at night and "through the night" are things that Emily and I are very concerned about, for our own sakes if not just for hers.
As a self-professed "athlete" (even though I don't regularly participate in competitive sports anymore), I firmly understand the connection between our bodies and our minds and among those two and our souls. Our minds don't function well when we've filled our bodies with too much sugar, fat, caffeine, or when we deprive our bodies of certain vitamins and minerals, water or sleep. Our minds function even more poorly when with additions or subtractions that are even worse than those listed above.
I must confess again (Lent is a penitential season, after all): even though I watch what I eat, I strive for moderation as opposed to obsession. Therefore, my diet is not void of sweets, fried food or an overabundance of peanuts, peanut butter and cereal. I love to eat; I just try to moderate my intake and maintain a healthy balance of different types of foods.
The 2004 documentary, "Supersize Me", brought to our country's and world's attention the dangers of unhealthy eating. Attempting to eat nothing but McDonald's fare for 3 meals a day for 30 days, Morgan Spurlock, the movie's director and guinea pig, (SPOILER ALERT) is advised by day 21 to stop the diet due to the health complications it caused.
Knowing the importance to our overall health, Catholic Schools should pay attention to what students are eating- not only in the cafeteria but also in the classrooms during class parties and celebrations. As an administrator, it is frustrating to deal with disciplinary problems that result from a school provided sugar-high and subsequent crash (the interruption to instructional time is another issue/frustration).
I believe that if students ate healthier, more well balanced diets, their performance in school would increase.
Likewise, I believe that exercise is another key ingredient in this recipe for academic and behavioral success. Play 60 is a campaign by the frozen NFL encouraging kids to get a total of at least 60 minutes of moderate exercise every day. Just as with eating, the benefits to such a lifestyle are not limited to children.
Finally, getting adequate sleep is another staple in this formula. Growing up, my grandmother would always say that my brother, sister and I (and all children) grow while we sleep. I'm uncertain as to whether this hypothesis was ever validated or not, but it makes sense that we'd function with greater efficiency if we were more well rested. I know I'm a better husband, father, principal, friend and man when I get more than 6 hours of sleep at night.
While it may seem overly holistic and simplistic, I wonder how many academic and behavioral problems could be avoided and/or corrected if we watched our diets, got regular exercise and even acquired the recommended allotment of sleep.
I also wonder if it's okay if we start all of these things tomorrow?
Call it a day-long snooze.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Sleeping Through the Night
The topic of sleep is abundant throughout Lent. The disciples sleeping in the Garden of Gethsemane while Jesus prayed for the strength to carry out His Father's will for Him, and my habit of going to bed early on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday to stave off hunger pangs are two examples.
Okay...they may be the only two examples.
But, as I have mentioned in a previous blog, I have come to accept sleep as a luxury instead of a necessity. I think about the disciples falling asleep and deserting Jesus in His moment of need and I come to realize that maybe sleep is overrated. I also come to realize that my lack of sleep has made me somewhat obsessed with it as a topic.
And why shouldn't I? To my daughter, Elizabeth, sleep is just about the most important part of her life-- and not because she's a good sleeper. No, the reality of the importance of sleep is made evident by the question most frequently asked to parents of a 4 and 1/2 month old:
"Is she sleeping through the night?"
This question is followed by what may be the 2nd and 3rd most common questions asked to new parents:
"How many naps does she take?" and "Is she a good sleeper?"
Sadly, my answers to these three sleep-centered questions would be: no, many but for extremely short durations, and no. In my estimation, whoever coined the phrase "sleeping like a baby" was a fool. I've never walked on so many pins and needles in my life.
I realize that my honesty with Elizabeth's inability to get quality, night-long sleep will bring a plethora of sound, proven advice on the many remedies at mine and Emily's disposal. Let her cry. Feed her food. Give her water. Don't let her sleep during the day. Don't give her a pacifier. Give her a pacifier. Establish a routine. Keep her room warm. Keep her room cold. Keep her room dark. Keep her room bright. Play music. Play static noise. Be silent. Rock her. Leave her. Cover her up. Swaddle her.
Basically, there are as many ways to get a baby to sleep as there are babies.
On the other hand, I am the proud parent of a baby who doesn't "sleep like a baby." She's already displaying her exceptional nature.
Nothing seems as much of a rite of passage/measuring stick of not only Elizabeth's journey from newborn to night-sleeper but our abilities as parents as this "sleeping through the night" phenomenon. Elizabeth is somewhere in infant cyber-sleep on this continuum. Emily and I must similarly be lost in sleep.
To all who ask this question of new parents, I politely retort (and vow never to ask this of new parents):
1. How many hours constitute the night?
2. What is one's definition of sleep?
3. Does "through" involve a potty break/change, early morning (er, I mean late "night") snack or merely the completion of one sleep cycle?
It seems that until more definition is given to this vague requirement of sleeping through the night, a below average score for either Elizabeth or Emily and I is unfair.
The world of education calls this listing of requirements/criteria by which one is evaluated a rubric and it is an essential yet, sadly, rarely used part of the educational process. Too often students receive assignments and eventually grades without any idea as to what is expected (see my retort above) or how they'll be graded (i.e. 4 straight hours of sleep = 10 points; 3 hours = 5 points; less than 3 = 0 points).
In addition, a rubric should reflect the important concepts/objectives behind the assignment. For example, what does "sleeping through the night" have to do with child development? Of course it is an important facet of Elizabeth's growth and progress (it has to be, right?) but why is it given more merit than rolling over, holding up her head, following noises, making noises or grabbing things with her hands (all things Elizabeth can do, by the way). So, not only should a rubric help to identify point values it should also identify areas of importance based on those values.
If you have a worksheet with 10 items and assign it a value of 10 points and yet deduct a point for each item that is spelled incorrectly, you've actually just given a spelling grade instead of the subject or concept behind the misspelled words. Things like neatness and spelling have merit and should be given weight, but the concepts behind such attention to detail should be given more and be heavier. Otherwise, the grade that is assigned is for something other than the skill being addressed.
Sleep is important, but should it be given a heftier point value than focused gazes, following and mimicking sounds or fine motor skills?
As Catholic educators we must ensure we are doing more than just getting our students to sleep through the night. We must get them to define night, compare it to day, articulate the connotation and relationship between night and darkness, list out the stages of the cycle of sleep, summarize the benefits of sleep, classify behaviors during sleep into the different stages of the sleep cycle, and even evaluate the conditions conducive to sleeping.
As you can see, teachers must first identify the objectives behind classroom activities before telling students to complete an assignment. If these objectives are specific, student-centered and measurable, they can help to form the rubric by which the students will be assessed.
Teachers must be purposeful in not only their planning and instruction but also their assessment/evaluation. Answering the question "how" when it comes to an assignment is powerful. Answering the question "why", though, is magical. Both are vitally important when it comes to evaluation.
Strategies abound for how to get Elizabeth to sleep. Less evident is why such shut-eye through the night, whatever that means, is important.
Teachers, it's time to wake up and no longer keep our students in the dark when it comes to how and why we'll assess them.
Even if darkness is conducive to sleeping.
Okay...they may be the only two examples.
But, as I have mentioned in a previous blog, I have come to accept sleep as a luxury instead of a necessity. I think about the disciples falling asleep and deserting Jesus in His moment of need and I come to realize that maybe sleep is overrated. I also come to realize that my lack of sleep has made me somewhat obsessed with it as a topic.
And why shouldn't I? To my daughter, Elizabeth, sleep is just about the most important part of her life-- and not because she's a good sleeper. No, the reality of the importance of sleep is made evident by the question most frequently asked to parents of a 4 and 1/2 month old:
"Is she sleeping through the night?"
This question is followed by what may be the 2nd and 3rd most common questions asked to new parents:
"How many naps does she take?" and "Is she a good sleeper?"
Sadly, my answers to these three sleep-centered questions would be: no, many but for extremely short durations, and no. In my estimation, whoever coined the phrase "sleeping like a baby" was a fool. I've never walked on so many pins and needles in my life.
I realize that my honesty with Elizabeth's inability to get quality, night-long sleep will bring a plethora of sound, proven advice on the many remedies at mine and Emily's disposal. Let her cry. Feed her food. Give her water. Don't let her sleep during the day. Don't give her a pacifier. Give her a pacifier. Establish a routine. Keep her room warm. Keep her room cold. Keep her room dark. Keep her room bright. Play music. Play static noise. Be silent. Rock her. Leave her. Cover her up. Swaddle her.
Basically, there are as many ways to get a baby to sleep as there are babies.
On the other hand, I am the proud parent of a baby who doesn't "sleep like a baby." She's already displaying her exceptional nature.
Nothing seems as much of a rite of passage/measuring stick of not only Elizabeth's journey from newborn to night-sleeper but our abilities as parents as this "sleeping through the night" phenomenon. Elizabeth is somewhere in infant cyber-sleep on this continuum. Emily and I must similarly be lost in sleep.
To all who ask this question of new parents, I politely retort (and vow never to ask this of new parents):
1. How many hours constitute the night?
2. What is one's definition of sleep?
3. Does "through" involve a potty break/change, early morning (er, I mean late "night") snack or merely the completion of one sleep cycle?
It seems that until more definition is given to this vague requirement of sleeping through the night, a below average score for either Elizabeth or Emily and I is unfair.
The world of education calls this listing of requirements/criteria by which one is evaluated a rubric and it is an essential yet, sadly, rarely used part of the educational process. Too often students receive assignments and eventually grades without any idea as to what is expected (see my retort above) or how they'll be graded (i.e. 4 straight hours of sleep = 10 points; 3 hours = 5 points; less than 3 = 0 points).
In addition, a rubric should reflect the important concepts/objectives behind the assignment. For example, what does "sleeping through the night" have to do with child development? Of course it is an important facet of Elizabeth's growth and progress (it has to be, right?) but why is it given more merit than rolling over, holding up her head, following noises, making noises or grabbing things with her hands (all things Elizabeth can do, by the way). So, not only should a rubric help to identify point values it should also identify areas of importance based on those values.
If you have a worksheet with 10 items and assign it a value of 10 points and yet deduct a point for each item that is spelled incorrectly, you've actually just given a spelling grade instead of the subject or concept behind the misspelled words. Things like neatness and spelling have merit and should be given weight, but the concepts behind such attention to detail should be given more and be heavier. Otherwise, the grade that is assigned is for something other than the skill being addressed.
Sleep is important, but should it be given a heftier point value than focused gazes, following and mimicking sounds or fine motor skills?
As Catholic educators we must ensure we are doing more than just getting our students to sleep through the night. We must get them to define night, compare it to day, articulate the connotation and relationship between night and darkness, list out the stages of the cycle of sleep, summarize the benefits of sleep, classify behaviors during sleep into the different stages of the sleep cycle, and even evaluate the conditions conducive to sleeping.
As you can see, teachers must first identify the objectives behind classroom activities before telling students to complete an assignment. If these objectives are specific, student-centered and measurable, they can help to form the rubric by which the students will be assessed.
Teachers must be purposeful in not only their planning and instruction but also their assessment/evaluation. Answering the question "how" when it comes to an assignment is powerful. Answering the question "why", though, is magical. Both are vitally important when it comes to evaluation.
Strategies abound for how to get Elizabeth to sleep. Less evident is why such shut-eye through the night, whatever that means, is important.
Teachers, it's time to wake up and no longer keep our students in the dark when it comes to how and why we'll assess them.
Even if darkness is conducive to sleeping.
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