Message from the Middle

Friday, Feb. 24

One truth I have learned about Middle Schoolers is that their secret desire is to look like they have everything under control. A perfect day for a Middle Schooler would be one in which they don’t stand out in their respective group, when they appear flawless at a time in their lives when flaws are, quite literally, part of their own physical and emotional maturation. In a face-to-face conversation I recently had with an eighth grade boy who wanted to talk to me about his “unfair” lunch detention, I couldn’t help but notice the layers of skin blemish he had caked onto his pimple-ridden chin, knowing that he had spent a significant amount of time that morning covering up his perceived flaws before he was to arrive to school. This is when my heart aches for Middle School students, whom I want to embrace and tell them that we all have struggled with pimple outbreaks and that this too will pass. 

Middle Schoolers remind me, on a daily basis, of the fundamental truth of what it means to be a human being. How we appear and present our “public selves” to others rarely, if ever, reveals the truths of who we are, just below the surface of this public skin. We all have our own struggles and flaws that we have learned to artfully cover-up in order to present a more polished version of ourselves to our own communities. A friend recently shared with me Frank Bruni’s New York Times opinion piece, “One Day I Couldn’t See Right. My Life Hasn’t Been The Same Since,” that beautifully sketched out what I know Middle Schoolers (and the rest of us) struggle with on a daily basis. As a result of a rare stroke that damaged the optic nerve behind his right eye, Bruni notes that his impaired vision empowered him to “see” humans in a way that he had never been able to do so beforehand: “Bit by bit, the people around me came into sharper focus, by which I mean that their fears, struggles and triumphs did.” Bruni’s “sharper focus” compelled him to “see,” at a deeper level, the struggles and hurdles that we have all faced, but have learned to cover-up. When he found out that a fellow writer with whom he worked-out next to on a daily basis had been the pilot in a plane crash that resulted in the death of his lone passenger — his only child — Bruni was stunned. Not having any idea of the pain and guilt that this man had been lugging about with him for years, Bruni’s newfound respect and admiration was profoundly humbling. 

Bruni goes on to cite the “struggles and hurdles” he discovered of other friends and acquaintances, all of which collectively reinforced for him the fundamental truth of what it means to be human: “There’s almost always a discrepancy between how people appear to us and what they’re actually experiencing; between their public gloss and private mess; between their tally of accomplishments — measured in money, rankings, ratings and awards — and a hidden, more consequential accounting.” If we could only remind ourselves that we all have, just below the surface of our skins, struggles, obstacles, and anxieties that are truly daunting, we would all “see” each other in ways that would promote compassion, empathy, and love. 

However, to bare our struggles to the world is a tough ask, as it opens us up to the unnerving challenge of being vulnerable to our communities: “Imagine that our hardships, our hurdles, our demons were spelled out for everyone around us to see. Imagine that each of us donned a sandwich board that itemized them.” In asking us to imagine a reality where our flaws and demons are laid bare for others to see, Bruni poses a challenge that many of us, as adults, would avoid for a variety of understandable reasons. My goal, as an educator, is to create a reality for Middle School students where their own hardships and hurdles are embraced by supportive and caring adults. We have intentionally created important structures in our Middle School program that help our teachers better understand the social and emotional lives of their students. Grade level teams, advisors, a Middle School counselor, and direct counseling support with Best Point and the Children’s Home are all fundamental components that serve to support our students and their struggles. Our recent administration of the Terrace Metrics assessments for all Middle School students has afforded us a unique way to peer into the social and emotional lives of our students. 

As a result of these assessments, we have garnered important information about some of the struggles that our students are dealing with and can, in response, extend a helping hand in this regard. And while I know that Middle School students will continue to apply their own types of “blemish medication” to conceal the painful parts of their lives that are all a part of adolescence, we must, as educators, realize and embrace, as Bruni notes, “the secrets that people carry, of the suffering that they bury.” 

Friday, Jan. 27

I recall with special zeal the day I turned 13 years old; Dec. 8, 1971. My parents informed me that once I became a teenager, I could finally purchase the magazine I longed to possess: Mad Magazine. While a bit risqué, I loved how Mad Magazine poked fun at so many elements of the world that I was slowly beginning to confront; Richard Nixon, the Vietnam War, hippies, drugs, sex, etc. However, there was one person associated with Mad Magazine who captured, for me, what the world was all about: Alfred E. Neuman, the gap-toothed, freckle-faced, red-headed poster boy for Mad Magazine who was always somewhere to be found on each and every cover of the magazine. What I especially enjoyed about Alfred E. Neuman was his catch phrase: “What, Me Worry?” While I remained confused and questioned what was going on in my adolescent world, Alfred E. Neuman remained oblivious and apparently numb to the tumultuous events that were turning the country and world on its collective head.

While there was a part of me that envied Alfred E. Neuman’s complacency and apparent unwillingness to acknowledge the turbulence of the events that surrounded me at the age of 13, there was another part of me that was shocked with how unaware this character was of all that was taking place. I found it hard to embrace Neuman’s three-word-mantra, as I began to emotionally connect with the horrors that surrounded me at the age of 13. It wasn’t until my best friend’s brother was killed in Vietnam that I started to “wake-up” and “worry” about the world that existed just beyond my comfortable home and community. While Alfred E. Neuman is no longer with us, there are other characters and elements of our society that continue to perpetuate this “What, Me Worry?” attitude of not seeing the world for what it is, often numbing us to the harsh realities of life in the 21st century. Don’t get me wrong; I am not advocating that we raise our children in a manner that forces them to see the horrific injustices that occur on a daily basis in a raw and unfiltered manner. However, I do feel that it is our responsibility, as adults, to educate, enlighten, and empower our children to know that they can both be concerned about and affect positive change on those injustices that are, indeed, worrisome.

It wasn’t until I read an article in this month’s The Atlantic, “The Meme That Defined A Generation,” that I was reminded of Alfred E. Neuman’s smiling face in a world that was becoming confusing and frightening to me, some 50 years ago. The author, Megan Garber, writes about the 10-year anniversary of a comic strip that quickly went viral and seemed to capture the pulse of our world in 2013. The meme, best known as “This Is Fine,” is a six-panel cartoon strip by KC Green that depicts a dog, known as Question Hound, in a bowler hat, sitting at a table in a room, drinking a cup of coffee, while flames of fire are growing more and more destructive. While brutal in its depiction, Question Hound continues to state that, even while being consumed by fire, “This is fine…I’m OK with the events that are unfolding currently…That’s okay, things are going to be okay…” In an NPR interview with Green, he later commented that this cartoon was an attempt, on his part to deal with the calamity in his own life: “It kind of feels like you just have to ignore all the insanity around you like a burning house. And the comic just ended up writing itself after that.”

It didn’t take long for Green’s comic to become a popular meme that, according to Garber, represented the small acts of complacency and denial that can often become a part of a person’s life: “In the dog surrounded by fire, they saw themselves. Students used the meme to describe feeling unprepared for upcoming tests. Workers used it to describe the stresses of their job.” Simply put, Question Hound, much like Alfred E. Neuman, cannot (or will not) grasp the severity of the world that is raging all around them; keep on smiling, don’t worry, this is fine, things are going to be okay.

As both an educator and parent, I struggle with the challenge of when and how to introduce the disturbing truths that our children will, eventually, need to understand and wrestle with, on their own, in order to successfully confront these brutal realities. Climate change, racism, violence, sexism, and the other daily calamities that are truly frightening need to be dealt with. And while characters like Alfred E. Neuman and Question Hound don’t exist for our children as they might have existed for us, there are just as powerful elements in our current society that similarly strive to numb and lull us into the belief that there is no need to worry and that things are going to be okay.

We all know that social media has the ability to paint pictures that are funny, engaging, entertaining, and strive to sell us on realities that are heavily curated, untrue and ultimately unfulfilling. I worry that when our children consume social media with little to no guidance and oversight from the important adults in their lives, they have the potential to adopt a worldview that is eerily similar to Alfred E. Neuman and Question Hound; no need to worry, all is fine. I firmly believe that we, as the adults in our children’s lives, bear the important responsibility of knowing when and how to help them see the world for what it truly is, while at the same time imbuing them with the sense that they can affect positive change, no matter how dire things might appear.

Friday, Jan. 6

One of the best parts of my day is teaching several sections of the sixth grade It’s Your World class that examines, each quarter, a major global topic. One of the goals of this class is to help our young students understand complex ideas and see how they might make a difference in the face of seemingly enormous odds and challenges. The first two topics we explored were immigration and global health. This past week, I began to introduce the global topic of social justice. 

While students had a difficult time defining what social justice is, they had little trouble identifying individuals who have fought to ensure that certain groups of underprivileged people have access to fundamental human rights and opportunities. Students began sharing names such as Martin Luther King, Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, Rosa Parks, Malala Yousafzai, and Greta Thunberg and were also able to identify the human rights they have fought for. As this discussion appeared to be waning, a boy’s hand shot-up as he shouted out, “Harvey Milk!” I was pleasantly taken aback, as I had never expected a sixth grader to know who Harvey Milk was. This student then clearly and accurately defined who Harvey Milk was and the fact that he fought for gay rights in the 1970s. 

We live in an age where issues related to social justice are now being questioned if/when they are brought into the classroom. Many teachers have become more and more fearful of addressing issues that now have a “left” and “right” wing of interpretation. Once boring and mundane school board meetings have now turned into shouting matches of “what should be taught” vs. “what is propaganda.” While I realize that some of the ideas and topics that we present to our students might appear as “controversial” in other school districts, I wouldn’t change a thing in how we, as a school, strive to prepare our students to be active and critical thinkers in a world that is becoming more and more noisy and complex.

I have long felt that teaching children how to understand and appreciate the struggles of those who have been deprived access to fundamental human rights helps in the acquisition of compassion and kindness. It was in this spirit that I read Jane Brody’s New York Times article, “How to Nurture Kindness in a New Generation.” Brody notes the recent work by Tracy Baxley, an associate professor of education at Florida Atlantic University. In her book “Social Justice Parenting,” Baxley’s goal is to raise children “who can ultimately self-advocate, empathize with others, recognize injustice, and become proactive in changing it.” In so many ways, this is exactly what we strive to do in our classrooms at Seven Hills. The ability to empathize with others, as well as developing the critical ability to notice injustice, is foundational in teaching children “to stand up and be allies for groups that are marginalized and silenced.” The ability to see injustice is a skill that takes time to develop, especially for Middle Schoolers, as it requires them to think outside and beyond their often ego-driven selves. This type of “seeing” was at the center of Martin Luther King Jr.’s activism, as reflected in his well-known quote: “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.” Once one realizes that we are all a part of that “inescapable network of mutuality,” one’s vision is changed forever.

While seeking to develop empathy and compassion for those experiencing injustice is all well and good, empathy and compassion, without action, benefits no one else. In Brody’s article, she notes that helping to cultivate “prosocial behaviors” gives a person the chance to put into action feelings of care and compassion.  Prosocial behavior, a term that originated during the 1970s, “includes a wide range of actions such as helping, sharing, comforting, and cooperating.”  Those who have had the chance to volunteer in local organizations that help the less-fortunate know the power of prosocial behavior. Aside from benefitting others, actively helping others, simply put, feels good and validates the importance of empathy and compassion. 

I am so proud that our Middle School continues to offer our community members the chance to act in a prosocial manner during our annual Martin Luther King, Jr. celebration, Day On, Not Off.  For the past decade, we have provided students and their extended families the chance to volunteer their time and efforts at Matthew 25: Ministries, and (new to this year’s Day On, Not Off) A Child’s Hope Int’l, two organizations that focus on local and global levels of need. I encourage you and your family to sign up to volunteer a few hours of prosocial efforts on Jan. 16, knowing that this will help others and make you feel good.

Friday, Dec. 9

This headline from the Nov. 8, 2022 edition of the New York Times has to be one of the best ever: Texas High Schoolers Must Retake SATs After Tests Fly Off UPS Truck. Yes, you read that correctly; SAT tests flew out of a UPS truck as it was making its way down Mesa Street in suburban El Paso, Texas. The article detailed that the SAT tests that students at El Paso High School had taken on Oct. 27 would not be scored, “because they had flown off a UPS truck that was transporting them” to be scored by the SAT testing bureau. UPS was quick to respond to this situation, stating “The driver’s actions in this case are not representative of UPS protocols and methods, and we have addressed this with him.” And while I empathize with the students at El Paso High School who needed to retake the fall SATs, I can’t help but chuckle at the image of SAT answer sheets wafting through the air and landing on a busy street, only to be trampled by oncoming traffic.

Standardized testing, once an assumed staple and necessity for gaining acceptance to college, has been under close scrutiny and has resulted in some distinct changes since the time I applied for admission to colleges in the winter of 1976. Now, more and more colleges have adopted a “test optional” or a “test blind” approach to their admissions process. While some colleges adopted a  “test optional” policy prior to COVID, the recent pandemic helped push many more schools to go “test optional” when it came to standardized testing. Certainly, educational reform groups have long objected to the high-stakes nature and true value of standardized testing as a way to evaluate a potential student’s aptitude and abilities, contending that these types of tests “give wealthier students an advantage because their families can afford expensive prep exams and coaches.” Regardless of where colleges are in terms of their stance on standardized testing, the issue of how to best assess student abilities and aptitudes remains under debate. 

While we, as a Middle School, administer the Educational Record Bureau’s standardized Comprehensive Testing Program (CTP) in March, this test helps us assess  content specific, “curriculum-based performance alongside reasoning ability and conceptual knowledge.” Simply put, we use the CTP results to gauge how our students are doing in relation to specific curricular skills that we choose to assess. More than anything else, the CTPs are an internal tool that gives us one way to assess student knowledge and ability. More valuable than standardized scores are how a student performs, over a long period of time, on a variety of academic skills and abilities that we deem important for success, both now and in the years to come. 

As many of you know, our Middle School strives to develop the higher order thinking skills that students will need to successfully navigate the challenges of the world they will soon inherit. These skills, which include comprehension, application, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation, were earlier identified by Benjamin Bloom in 1956. Now known as Bloom’s Taxonomy, the acquisition of these skills and abilities are seen as crucial in developing and educating critical and discriminating thinkers. The variety of assessments that we develop in Middle School strive to provide numerous ways students can demonstrate their learning. While our students do take traditional quizzes and tests, they also write extensively in a variety of genres, engage in group endeavors, creatively design models and projects, and lead discussions with peers, all of which are designed to develop these important higher order thinking skills. These types of “demonstrations of learning” give us so much more information and detail than any result from a standardized test could ever yield. 

Developmental psychologist Howard Gardner is best known for his work on the Multiple Intelligence model, positing that there are a myriad of ways of understanding human intelligence. Breaking away from the traditional view of human intelligence as measured by IQ,  Gardner’s Multiple Intelligence Theory “claims that human beings have a number of relatively discrete intellectual capacities.,” such as visual spatial, interpersonal, bodily-kinesthetic, and logical-mathematical intelligences, to name but a few. More recently, Gardner has been focusing on the skills needed to thrive in the 21st century and has identified some fairly specific skills that schools need to be focusing upon: working cooperatively, developing creativity, predicting outcomes, generating solutions, and cultivating data fluency are just some of the skills Gardner feels as necessary for success in the years to come. While schools such as Seven Hills understand the importance of the development of these skills, it is essential that we find ways to measure and assess a student’s ability to develop and acquire these skills.  Ultimately, this is where I struggle in believing that traditional standardized testing has the ability to measure and assess these skills in students.

Will we ever see the death of standardized testing as part of the college admissions process? I don’t know… but I do have hope. I remain interested and impressed with the work of the Mastery Transcript Consortium, an organization that has challenged the value of the traditional high school transcript model and strives to paint a broader picture of the skills and abilities of a student that can’t be represented by the grades, standardized test scores, courses, sports, etc. that have traditionally been a part of the high school transcript model. The MTC attempts to serve as an alternative to the “status quo”: “It supports each student in learning for today’s world, in exploring and pursuing varied pathways to futures that compel them, and in being recognized for acquiring and mastering skills both inside and outside of school.” I welcome this type of fresh thinking, as it challenges the traditional models where grades, GPAs, and test scores have often been the evaluation metrics that colleges have used in the past.

I wish that I could have been on Mesa Street in El Paso on Oct. 27, driving right behind that UPS truck as SAT tests began to litter the road. I would have made a valiant attempt to have driven over as many of these sheets of paper as possible. 

Friday, Dec. 2

This past Sunday morning found me in downtown OTR, lying on a wet Race Street, stunned and in excruciating pain. I had just attempted to take a left turn onto Liberty Street and my 150cc scooter had just slipped out from beneath me and crushed my left knee. The only thought I had at that moment was, “This is not what I need right now…” The MRI the following day revealed the following about my left knee: a complete ACL rupture, a high-grade tear of my MCL, tears in my meniscus, fractures of my fibula and tibial heads, and a great deal of swelling that needed to be drained. And while I am fortunate to have a supportive community (family, friends, and colleagues), solid health insurance, and a great care team that will surgically repair my knee next Wednesday, I still hear that thought echoing in my mind; “This is not what I need right now…”

At some point in our lives, we all find ourselves experiencing Hard Times. Most recently, we all experienced the Hard Times of the COVID pandemic that shuttered schools, businesses, and life as we knew it. I know for certain that we all contemplated the statement, “This is not what I need right now.” We read about people and communities who continue to experience incredibly Hard Times that we would prefer not to notice: war, famine, gun violence, etc.  I am sure that the statement, “This is not what I need right now” has been voiced by many Ukrainians as Russian forces continue to invade their homeland. I have worked with countless Middle School students who, having been shunned by their peers for no apparent reason, have angrily shouted, “This is not what I need right now!” And I know that Middle Schoolers also have the uncanny ability to act in ways that cause both their parents and teachers to utter under their breath, “This is not what I need right now.” How are we, as sentient beings, supposed to cope with so many obstacles that prevent us from living the lives that we truly desire?

In her January 2022 New York Times article, “How To Build Resilience In Hard Times,” Jane Brody notes that many humans “call upon an age-old characteristic that enables us to weather adversity: resilience.” Certainly, the word resilience has become popular in our modern-day culture and has taken on many other names: grit, perseverance, courage, etc. Whatever you choose to call it, the ability to “roll with the punches” has been a Darwinian characteristic that has empowered humans to survive seemingly insurmountable odds. Brody cites the work of Pauline Boss, professor emeritus at the University of Minnesota and author of her 2021 book The Myth of Closure, who notes that “if you’re brittle, you’ll break” when faced with life’s slings and arrows. Being able to emotionally “bend” and not “break” is, I feel, the essential quality that allows us to march forward when we have experienced things that we truly haven’t expected at a given moment.

Far too many of us expect that once a crisis is over, things will return to “normal.” In working with Middle School students for many decades, I intimately know that there is no such thing as “normal,” as Middle Schoolers are, by their very nature, constantly changing. While my heart always breaks when a Middle Schooler privately shares with me, “I wish things would just go back to how they were,” after the loss of a friendship, I wish they had the gift of age and perspective: things change. Boss challenges the concept of normalcy, stating that “Normal implies status quo, but things are always changing, and if you don’t change, you don’t grow… we have to be flexible, resilient enough to bend in order to survive. And we will survive, but our lives will be forever changed.” Indeed, as the Buddha noted, “Nothing is permanent except change.” Until we realize this fact, we won’t be able to positively respond to the daily obstacles that make life appear, at times, both difficult and challenging.

While philosophically musing on the sayings of the Buddha can be intellectually comforting, especially when disaster isn’t currently knocking on our doors, how do we find ways to actively move forward and cultivate resilience to weather the changes that will inevitably come our way? In her book, Boss references the work of Dr. Viktor Frankl, the Austrian neurologist, author, psychiatrist, and Holocaust survivor: “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” Boss goes on to offer several practical ways we can nurture resilience in order to adapt to the changes (both good and bad) that will inevitably come our way:

• Find Meaning: when we can’t make sense of a challenge or loss, find ways to take some type of action: seek justice, work for a cause, demonstrate to right a wrong.
• Rebuild Identity: when our circumstances change, find ways to adopt a new identity that provides meaning and purpose: explore new friendships, take on a new hobby, or do what you truly love.
• Discover New Hope: when we have lost something or someone, begin to hope for something new that allows us to move forward: take action and create new connections that minimize isolation and foster support.

At the heart of these ways to nurture resilience is the simple truth that things will never return to the way they once were in the past. They simply won’t. We must take action and chart a new way forward. This is especially hard for Middle Schoolers, as they are entering a period in their lives where there is so much change that they never expected. Our entire Middle School program is built around this truth: change happens. We work to provide Middle Schoolers the opportunity to try on new identities, discover new ways of thinking about age-old ideas, and to take action against current global challenges and issues. At the heart of all we do is our effort to create resilient young citizens who will feel empowered when confronted with Hard Times.

Knowing that I will recover from my recent knee injury, I am setting my sights on rebuilding my own identity and hoping for a newer version of myself: Bill 2.0, Jedi Master and Speed Walker.

Friday, Nov. 18

I clearly recall the moment in the fall of 2014 when my oldest daughter received her offer for early admission to the Rhode Island School of Design. While I was so happy that my daughter was thrilled to be spending her next four years at a legitimate art school, I was also worried that my daughter would be spending her next four years at a legitimate art school. Sounding much like my father when I told him that I was going to graduate in 1981 with an undergraduate degree in religious studies from Hamilton College, I found myself silently voicing the same question to my daughter that he bluntly put to me; “What are you going to do with a major like that?” As parents, we all want our kids to be happy and successful when they enter the world as adults. However, we also want our kids to be able to “earn a living” with a career that will ensure that they are happy and secure. Fast forward to today; my oldest daughter is a very successful virtual reality design engineer living out her dreams in New York City.

“What are you going to do with a major like that?” is still a question that worried parents think about and college students wrestle with each and every year. In today’s age of specialization, more and more students are graduating from college with degrees that appear to be more “employable” than in years past. In a recent study of college majors, the National Center for Education Statistics ranked the following majors to be the top six in terms of the number of bachelor degrees conferred: business, health professions and related programs, social sciences and history, psychology, biological and biomedical sciences, and engineering. And while I understand the possible reasons behind these undergraduate concentrations (e.g. greater post-graduation employability), I wonder about the value and benefits of a degree in the more traditional liberal arts fields. I know that when I began my first year at Hamilton College, I was fixated on pursuing a pre-med major, following in the footsteps of my father and grandfather. And even though I graduated from college with a job offer to teach ninth grade English at an independent day school in Connecticut, my father still asked me on my graduation day, “What are you going to do with a major like that?”

When I came across Jon Marcus’ article, “How the Humanities Can Train Entrepreneurs” in The Atlantic, I was fascinated (and a bit reassured) with his contention that studying subjects in the “humanities” (e.g. literature, history, philosophy, religious studies, etc.) have inherent value and relevance in a world where specialization has more apparent value. As parents, we all know that spiraling tuition should have evident financial benefits for our children. In his article, Marcus notes that, right out of college, “humanities majors in the United States earn an average of $5,000 a year less than professionals and pre-professionals, according to the National Center for Higher Education Management Systems and the Association of American Colleges & Universities, or AAC&U, which represents liberal-arts colleges.” By their 40s, Marcus notes that while these humanities majors do catch up (and often pull ahead) of their non-humanities peers, “they still make less over the course of their careers than engineers and people with degrees in the physical and natural sciences and math.” I can hear my father’s question rearing its head, once again; “What are you going to do with a major like that?”

Marcus’ article points out a contention that I have long felt when it comes to the purpose and value of studying the humanities; whether you become a CEO, a doctor, a lawyer, or an engineer, all of these jobs require the skills that an education rooted in the humanities offers. “Employers highly value what humanities majors learn in college, focus groups and surveys show. More than nine out of 10 say a job candidate’s capacity for thinking and communicating clearly and solving complex problems is more important than his or her major, according to an AAC&U poll. More than three-quarters favor applicants who understand other cultures.”

Thinking and communicating; that is what the humanities stress. The ability to think critically and creatively, to compare and contrast with precision, and to hold two seemingly contradictory ideas in one’s head at the same time; that’s what the humanities offer a person. The ability to understand how cultures differ from each other and to see the connective threads that link cultures with each other is an invaluable skill in our increasingly diverse world. Please know that I am in no way negating or devaluing the study of topics such as engineering, science, or business. However, the applicable skills that can be reaped from studying and understanding the humanities are just as valuable as the skills that will be needed for our children to negotiate the growing complexities of the world they will soon inherit.

I do wish that I knew now what I could have known on my graduation day from Hamilton in 1981. My father was so proud to watch me walk across the stage and receive my B.A. in religious studies. And even though his question, “What are you going to do with a major like that?” bothered and frustrated me at the tender age of 21, I know that his gift of an education rooted in the humanities continues to hold life-long benefits of which I will be forever grateful. Thanks, Dad!

Friday, Nov. 11

I was so heartened to read in last week’s Blast that there is a new space that we, as a school, are offering for our LGBTQIA+ families, in the collective efforts of pursuing our goal of becoming an inclusive community. By clicking on the link in this blurb, one can easily understand the intent and goals for the LBGTQIA+ Parent Community Group: “We want to invite families, who identify as part of the LBGTQIA+ (Lesbian, Bisexual, Gay, Transgender, Queer, Intersex, Asexual, and any other identities) community, who are interested in forming a Parent Community Group. The goals of this group ​are to​ get to know other families​, education, resources, and allyship.” Without question, connecting families who identify as part of the LGBTQIA+ community serves to strengthen the sense of community and solidarity that unites our entire Seven Hills community.

And while I enthusiastically applaud the formation of the LGBTQIA+ Parent Group, I also understand the importance of creating a similar type of space for our Middle School students who identify as members of the LGBTQIA+ community. Aside from the fact that we want all students to be able to proudly affirm who they are, LGBTQIA+ students have been historically subjected to often disproportionate levels of physical and verbal harassment, long before these types of abusive behaviors were being noticed and dealt with. It wasn’t until 1999 that the National School Climate Survey was launched by GLSEN (Gay, Lesbian, & Straight Education Network) that school officials were able to gather and analyze information pertaining to the lived experiences of LGBTQIA+ students. In her 2021 article, “20 Years of Data Shows What Works For LGBTQ Students,” Paige Tutt notes that “the survey sketched the first tentative outlines of a formerly invisible population and tracked the well-being of LGBTQ students and the schools that educate them over the next two decades.” The results of the early National School Climate Surveys indicated both optimism and concern: “school-based supports do have a positive impact… and a sobering glimpse into the acute and enduring crisis that still exists for LGBTQ kids in school.” While it is vital that we are aware of the harassment that this sector of the student population has historically experienced, it is more important to put into place actual steps that can stem these types of negative experiences and allow these students to feel both welcomed and valued.

In Tutt’s article, she interviews Dr. Joseph Kosciw, the director of GLSEN’s Research Institute as to how the experiences of LGBTQIA+ students have changed over the past 20 years as well as understanding the availability and benefits of school-based supports that can best currently serve this student population. When directly asked the question, “What challenges do you see in how schools meet the changing needs of LGBTQ students?”, Kosciw highlighted the fact that students live in school cultures that are highly gendered; for example, we have boys’ bathrooms/lockers and girls’ bathrooms/lockers. Kosciw comments that while adults (e.g. teachers) are great when a student is a trans girl or a trans boy, “they don’t know what to do with nonbinary students because schools aren’t set-up to have people who exist outside of that binary.” Clearly, having all-gendered spaces is an effort that schools can make to be as inclusive as possible. I am so glad that when we were in the process of constructing our new Middle School, we intentionally created all-gendered bathrooms to support all of our students.

One of the issues that Kosciw raises are the types of preventative measures that schools can implement to assist LGBTQIA+ students who are struggling. In his research, Kosciw found that “youth in middle schools have a far worse time than in high schools” and that vital supports for middle school students are lacking:

In order to intentionally address these numeric disparities, schools need to do more than say they are “inclusive”; schools must have in place actual structures that serve to (1) educate all students as to what inclusivity looks like and (2) directly support a school’s LGBTQIA+ community. Kosciw notes that there are four major ways that schools can create safe and supportive environments: curricular inclusion, having a number of teachers who are supportive, having a GSA (Genders and Sexualities Alliance), and LGBTQ-affirming school policies that prevent negative behaviors “like bullying, harassment, and assault.”

I am heartened to know that Seven Hills has realized and implemented many of these ways to best create a safe environment for our LGBTQIA+ community. From a Middle School perspective, we continue to examine how we are best supporting these students and have intentionally created structures in this regard. Our GSA- Just Be You Club, that is open to all Middle School students, started in the Fall of 2020 and is a branch of the Upper School’s Genders and Sexualities Alliance Club. This club seeks to educate and raise awareness about issues within the LGBTQIA+ student body at Seven Hills and the larger world. Meeting once a week, the club provides a safe space for education and community. I have, from time-to-time, dropped into this club during its Thursday lunchtime meeting in room 304 and have marveled at the large number of students who joyfully gather, with the support of several Middle School faculty, to meet and discuss important issues and concerns. In addition, we have also created curricular programming that serves to educate our entire Middle School community about such issues as gender diversity at Seven Hills. Our Real Talks series of panel discussions has highlighted this issue, empowering students to share their own experiences in terms of their gender identification.

Whether it is the newly created LBGTQIA+ Parent Community Group, the GSA-Just Be You Club, the presence of all-gendered bathrooms, or the introduction curricular programs that serve as “windows and mirrors,” allowing our students to see themselves and the experiences of other people in an inclusive manner, we have the responsibility, as adults, to best support our students to embrace and celebrate who they are; members of our rich and lively diverse community!

Friday, Nov. 4

During the summer of my junior year in college, I was working as a front desk clerk at a fancy hotel on Nantucket Island, off the coast of Massachusetts. One of the guests who was well-known for his dour, negative, and quick-to-anger temperament approached me with his family in tow and heatedly barked out, “Call me a cab right now!” After a brief pause, I said, “OK, you’re a cab!” which was then followed be a longer-than-normal period of silence. The man’s wife then let out a high-pitched cackle and shouted, “I’ve been waiting for someone to say that to him forever!” After another uncomfortably long moment of silence, the man started to chuckle and said to me, “You know, I really deserved that!” While I didn’t realize it then, humor and levity can go a long way in defusing tense and anxious moments. Having worked with Middle School students for many decades, I have realized that a well-timed comment that evokes a sense of humor and light-heartedness can occasionally lessen the weight of the stress and social awkwardness that many a Middle School student has felt during these trying years. Even as adults, living in these times of political, environmental, and societal upheaval, finding humor can be that “sugar” that helps the often bitter “medicine” go down a bit more smoothly.

We all know the old adage, “laughter is the best medicine.” Unsurprisingly, this is often, literally, the truth in helping us deal with the trying and unpredictable moments we face on a daily basis. Many studies have concluded that humor and laughter can often increase feelings of optimism and overall well-being. A 2011 article in the  Journal of Positive Psychology, “Promoting Emotional Well-Being Through the Use of Humor,” asserts that humor is “believed to assist in improving emotional well-being by increasing self-efficacy, positive thinking, optimism and perceptions of control, while decreasing negative thinking, perceptions of stress, depression, anxiety, and stress.” In our Middle School, we know and embrace this truth and intentionally find ways to have humor as part of our day. During classes, teachers will often create lessons that incorporate group games and activities that are meant to by enjoyable and fun! Passing in the hallways, I often notice students engaged in silly group dances, which I sometimes join, much to the amusement (and often embarrassment) of others. Without question, I feel that our Middle School community is a fun place to be, where students and faculty have opportunities to laugh and enjoy the day.

This isn’t to say that we need to find humor in each and every moment. There are distinctive elements of our curriculum that are far from being hilarious and demand a serious and sensitive approach. Students will encounter in our program topics such as persecution, ostracism, racism, oppression, and genocide, to name but a few of the difficult and serious themes that are important for our students to wrestle with. Along with this, students are aware of many of the less-than comical issues that dominate the current news cycle. This is where our teachers need to find the right tone, balance, and approach that respectfully introduces students to these disturbing and  unsettling issues.

When I read Carolyn Todd’s recent New York Times article, “When Everything Is Heavy, a Touch of  Humor Can Help,” I was interested in her understanding of the power that levity can bring to serious and stressful situations. Todd notes that “Humor and levity are related, but the terms aren’t interchangeable… [and] much of the related research falls under the umbrella of levity… a sense of lightness, as well as a posture of not taking everything so seriously.” Levity, the ability to lighten up and to take things a bit less seriously, can have truly healthy and restorative effects. Todd cites the research of Emiliana Simons-Thomas, science director of the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkley, on the power of levity: “Levity is our primary vehicle for restoring a relaxed state… It helps create a buffer and escape from the mental and physical stress that underpins so much of our suffering.” Whether I knew it or not, when I called the man in the hotel a cab, my comment did lighten the moment, much like letting air out of a balloon.

Quite often, many of the texts that our students read that deal with powerful and serious issues are laced with moments of levity. Read any Shakespearean tragedy and you will find such moments of “lightening up” in the most ominous of situations. I always feel that Mercutio’s utterance to Romeo after he has been fatally stabbed by Tybalt in Act III of “Romeo and Juliet” to be a true moment of levity through a wonderful play on words:

No, tis not so deep as a well nor so wide as
a church door, but tis enough, twill serve. Ask for
me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man.

And of course, Mercutio soon becomes a man, dead and buried in his grave.

When seventh grade students read Harper Lee’s “To Kill A Mockingbird,” they encounter the horrors of racism and the brutalities that groups of like-minded white men can inflict on black citizens. When Mr. Cunningham and his fellow mob of white citizens have gathered at the jail in attempt to capture Tom Robinson and take the law into their own hands, it is 9-year-old Scout Finch, whose innocent and curious words to Mr. Cunningham defuse the palpable tension and send this mob of racist men home, temporarily saving Tom’s life:

“Don’t you remember me, Mr. Cunningham? I’m Jean Louise Finch. You brought us some hickory nuts one time, remember?” I began to sense the futility one feels when unacknowledged by a chance acquaintance. “I go to school with Walter,” I began again. “He’s your boy, ain’t he? Ain’t he, sir?” Mr. Cunningham was moved to a faint nod. He did know me, after all. “He’s in my grade,” I said, “and he does right well. He’s a good boy,” I added, “a real nice boy. We brought him home for dinner one time. Maybe he told you about me, I beat him up one time but he was real nice about it. Tell him hey for me, won’t you?”

With her simple questions and remarks, Scout defuses this tense situation by connecting with Mr. Cunningham on a most personal level, reminding him of his humanity.

In reflecting on Todd’s NYT article, I do feel that finding ways to introduce humor and levity into our lives, whether as Middle Schoolers or adults, is central to living a healthier life. Todd offers six suggestions as to how we can cultivate levity in our lives. While I won’t explicate each of these suggestions, I do love her first suggestion: “Look for things that are just the tinniest bit amusing.” Indeed, there are funny things happening all around us, if we would only look for them: “When your angry kid stomps into the room, does she kind of resemble a tiny, drunk dictator? When you pass a dog park, can you appreciate how the entire affair seems like a canine singles bar?” Go ahead and give it a try, especially when your Middle Schooler is trying on that outfit that makes you grimace with pain and embarrassment. Or, you just call them a cab…

Friday, Oct. 28

While we all know that making time for “play” has been a fundamental part of childhood growth and learning, today’s Pumpkin Day activities reminded me of a 2015 TIME magazine article that was “music to my ears”: Playtime Isn’t Just for Preschoolers—Teenagers Need It, Too. In this article, Hilary Conklin notes that, “giving students occasions to learn through play not only fosters creative thinking, problem solving, independence, and perseverance, but also addresses teenagers’ developmental needs for greater independence and ownership in their learning, opportunities for physical activity and creative expression, and the ability to demonstrate competence.” Find some time this weekend, in between your jumping in a pile of leaves, to read this article by clicking here.

Friday, Oct. 21

Every morning, before I get out of bed, I make sure to send my three daughters a quote for the day, in the hopes that (1) they will read it and (2) the quote somehow resonates with them and gets their respective days off on a positive note. Without question, I have sent my daughters more quotes attributed to the Dalai Lama than from anyone else. The quote that I sent my daughters this morning, again from the Dalai Lama, is one of my favorites: “I believe that the very purpose of life is to be happy. From the very core of our being, we desire contentment… Since we are not solely material creatures, it is a mistake to place all our hopes for happiness on external development alone. The key is to develop inner peace.” While not a stunning revelation, I do believe that this is our purpose in life; to be internally happy and content. Obviously, what makes a person truly happy has long been a form of heated debate. I do believe that the sole acquisition of material goods is a temporary and, ultimately, fruitless pursuit. Having worked in education for more than four decades, I have also come to see the sole acquisition of high grades as an equally unfulfilling pursuit. Whether it is material possessions or high grades, these sought-after achievements, when devoid of “inner peace,” will rarely, if ever, bring about happiness.

In his recent Atlantic article, “If You Want Success, Pursue Happiness,” Arthur Brooks examines how adults have often pursued the goal of being happy in relation to their careers: “Without going too far out on a limb, I believe almost everyone would like two things from their jobs and careers: success and happiness. They want to do relatively well financially, receive fair recognition for their accomplishments, enjoy their work as much as one can, and become happier as a person as a result.” While hardly anyone would argue with his assertion, Brooks cites study after study that clearly disproves the logic of the equation that success leads to happiness. Assuming that success will lead to happiness is a flawed notion, as many studies have shown that running after success has the opposite effect on happiness, “as many a desiccated, lonely workaholic can tell you.” Brooks cites a 2020 study by researchers of 414 Iranian bank employees and “found that workaholic behavior (such as perfectionism and work addiction) strongly predicted workplace incivility (such as hostility, privacy invasion, exclusionary behavior, and gossiping).” 

While we all know workaholics and the truly unhealthy results that occur from the pursuit of often elusive goals (e.g. more money, that next job promotion, etc.), the healthy and more positive realization is that success should not have to precede happiness. In his article, Brooks notes that we often have to “reverse the order of operations… start by working on your happiness, which will enhance your success.” One of the studies that Brooks cites from the University of California Riverside, “The Benefits of Frequent Positive Affect: Does Happiness Lead To Success?” asked 990 college-educated full-time professionals to compare their career achievements to others. The authors concluded that “happy individuals are successful across multiple life domains, including marriage, friendship, income, work performance, and health… [and] that the happiness-success link exists not only because success makes people happy, but also because positive affect engenders success.” Indeed, happiness can often lead to success, no matter how one might determine success.

I believe this happiness-success link is true for students as well, especially at the Middle School level. At a time in their lives where they are beginning to realize that high school is not that far away and college is actually becoming more of a reality, those students who develop and/or maintain a healthy sense of fun and joy in their lives in Middle School are happier than those students who solely focus on getting “good grades” at the expense of other activities. For many of our students, fun and joy can come in various shapes and forms; playing on a sports team, acting in a play, joining a Middle School lunchtime club, learning to play a new instrument, creating a new piece of art, or simply hanging out with friends at Fruit Break and acting like a goofy Middle School student. Rarely have I seen lasting happiness result from students who focus on hours and hours of studying, reading, and staying up late to get the best grades possible on an upcoming test, paper, or project. Much like their adult counterparts, I have seen Middle School students become overtired and overstressed workaholics themselves, experiencing similar unhealthy forms of burnout. Whether driven by a sense of internal perfectionism, high parental-expectations, or fear of failure, I know that pursuit of this type of success rarely has positive and happy outcomes. 

As a Middle School, we strive to help students develop a sense of happiness in their day-to-day endeavors. Our teachers often design lessons and projects that build in a sense of fun and empower students to feel good about themselves. We design special events and days simply devoted to having fun. Our upcoming Pumpkin Day on Oct. 28 is just that; a day to have fun and be with peers and teachers, engaged in silly and communal activities. In a similar vein, we also know that empowering our students to serve others gives them a sense of purpose and meaning, two qualities that are intimately connected with happiness. Brooks notes that some of the happiest people are those involved in service to their communities, citing a recent Gallup poll that “revealed that people who serve their communities and receive recognition for it, self-report significantly less stress and worry in their lives than those who do not.” Allowing our students to serve others outside of our Seven Hills community is an equally important part of our Middle School program. Working with Matthew 25: Ministries, The Caring Place, and other volunteer organizations truly lends meaning, purpose, and happiness to our community. 

Just as important as meaningful service to others outside of our community, we also know that developing a sense of caring and compassion for others within our Middle School community serves to develop happiness, as well. Our Middle School CARES framework focuses on the intentional development of social and emotional skills that are directly linked to happiness: Cultivating Accountability, Respect, Empathy, and Safety.

Just as I do each morning with my three daughters, I will share with you another one of the Dalai Lama’s quotes that reinforces the true importance and meaning of what happiness can be for all us: “In my own limited experience I have found that the more we care for the happiness of others, the greater is our own sense of well-being. Cultivating a close, warmhearted feeling for others automatically puts the mind at ease.” Here’s to a happy and joyful weekend, my friends!

Friday, Oct. 14

As you may recall from some of my earlier “Messages from the Middle,” I shared with our community the foundational structures of our new Middle School CARES framework. When I initially presented this framework to our students, I used the word “mantra” in an attempt to capture how we, as a Middle School community, embrace the essence of what CARES stands for: Cultivating Accountability, Respect, Empathy, and Safety. A mantra is often understood as a word or sound that helps one to concentrate and focus in an intentional manner. While I don’t expect that all of our Middle Schoolers will now be walking about our hallways, muttering the word “CARES” under their breaths, I do hope that the essence of these words begins to permeate and shape the intentional values of our community. Whether it be the posters of these words in our hallways, classrooms, or bathrooms, I hope that our collective efforts leave some positive impression of these words on our students after they have left Middle School.

Whether or not these words become a code to live by for our students, I am well-aware of the fact that many of us have been raised in communities that have literal “codes to live by” that are solidly embedded into the behavioral fabric of the community itself. For some, important scriptural texts serve as the moral linchpin for a community. For others, the words of important civil rights leaders guide behaviors and actions. For me, the voice of my late father reverberates in my head every time I rise out of bed in the morning: “Use your head for something other than a hat rack today!” My father’s father would also remind me every time he visited our home of his own code to live by: “With privilege comes responsibility.”

You might well imagine my glee when I read a recent New York Times opinion article, “To Leave the World a Bit Better and Other Codes to Live By” that shared the codes that many readers have come to live by in their lives. Here are just a few of these codes to live by: treat others as they wish to be treated, always behave as if someone were watching, your wake defines you, create more and consume less, be the person your dog thinks you are, and what if everyone did that? I found one reader’s contribution especially touching: “My father died when he was 84, and when he was 80 years old, I asked if he’d had any regrets in his life. ‘I wish I’d been more kind,’ he said. For me those words were revelatory.” Indeed, words have the power and ability to transform lives.

It is in this spirit that I invite you to share with me any particular codes to live by that serve as guideposts in you or your family’s respective lives. Please feel free to email me and share your own particular code(s) to live by; with your permission, I will then publish (without naming the source) the codes to live by that serve to focus and direct what inspires, motivates, and guides the lives of some members of our Seven Hills community.

I leave you with the other code to live by that my father would often remind his sons as he came in to say good night: “As Mr. T says, I pity the fool who just gives up.”

Friday, Sept. 30

One of the best parts of my day is attending Middle School athletic contests. Win or lose, I relish the fact that any Middle Schooler who wants to be on a team and compete has the opportunity to do so. This no-cut approach to sports fosters a sense of fun, challenge, and engagement for our students. Some students discover a passion for a new sport while others enjoy being with their peers outside of the classroom walls. Many of our students play several sports throughout the year, affording them multiple opportunities to develop friendships and athletic skills that keep them happy, fresh, and engaged.

As a teenager, I loved playing a wide-variety of sports, knowing that I had numerous opportunities to be with my friends in a variety of different athletic contexts. I played football for one season (with minimal success), developed a life-long love for competitive swimming, and grew to love the game of lacrosse. I was able to swim and play lacrosse at the collegiate level, but knew that (1) I would never become an elite athlete and (2) playing several sports kept me happy and healthy. When I read Jessica Grosse’s New York Times opinion article, “How Money is Ruining Youth Sports,” I was again reminded of the benefits of being on an athletic team, especially during adolescence. Grosse notes that, for herself, being on an athletic team “always felt like a respite from adolescent drama, and it provided structure and solace on even the worst days. Being part of a team taught me a lot of lessons, not least of which that showing up on time and ready to play has tangible benefits, no matter what happens in the game.”

Providing adolescents with the chance to reap these types of “tangible benefits” is vitally important from both a social and physical perspective. In our Middle School, we give students the chance to play on teams where the importance is focused more on having fun and working with others rather than on a winning-at-all-costs attitude. I fondly recall a conversation I had with an eighth grade boy who had just finished his basketball season. When I asked him how his season went, he replied that, even though he had been a member of the C-Team and had only scored two points all season, he loved being a part of his team. At the end of our conversation, he shared with me that he was going to play lacrosse in the spring, even though he had never held a lacrosse stick in his hands. From my perspective, this is what sports should be about, especially at the Middle School level of play.

I am well aware of the fact that our approach to sports at Seven Hills often runs counter to what is actually going on in our society when it comes to youth sports. More and more kids are specializing in sports at younger and younger ages, often in the belief that they will be able to garner the attention of college coaches, in the hopes of paving the way to an all-expense paid college experience. In her article, Grosse comments that one of the biggest drivers that has fueled this specialization on one sport has been, sadly, money: “the problem is systemic. At its base, over the past several decades, ‘kids’ sports stopped being for kids…There are fewer low-cost options, the time parents are spending on sports has ratcheted up and kids from lower-income families have less access to play. Instead, youth sports are about making adults money and fueling what some economists call the ‘rug rat race’ — middle class and upper middle class competition to get kids into colleges and secure their futures.” And while there are kids whose specialization does pay off (e.g. scholarships, sponsorships, etc.), the literal costs that parents spend on this type of “success” is often exorbitant and short lived (e.g. travel team membership fees, travel costs, etc.). Grosse cites the research that came out of the Family Sports Lab at Utah State: “They discovered that the more parents spend on their kids’ sports, the less the kid enjoys it and the more pressure they feel.”

While specialization in one sport can be beneficial, I do worry about the long-term effects of this type of approach to sports. What happens to a child who, after years and years of practice and competition, fails to win that elusive scholarship or recognition? Often, the child ends up leaving the sport. For me, this is the real tragedy in pursuing such intense specialization in athletics. Sports should be about enjoyment and fun. Sports should be about the development of physical skills as much as it should be about the development of social and emotional skills. Having coached Middle and Upper School students at a variety of schools and in many sports for the past 30 years, I know that those students who played multiple sports gained so much from these varied experiences. And when I see that eighth grade boy who scored a grand total of two points on the C-Team walking the halls as a 12th grader today, I know for certain that he will remember those two points were just as important as the fact that he is now one of the stars of our school’s lacrosse team.

Friday, Sept. 23

This week’s Message is meant to detail some of the finer points of the Middle School CARES framework that I have been writing about in my previous Messages from the Middle. As you may recall, this framework is intended to establish the types of social and emotional behaviors that serve to create a Middle School where all members (students and faculty) thrive as a cohesive community, focused on positive growth and learning. Cultivating Accountability, Respect, Empathy, and Safety is central in allowing all of us to take care of ourselves, others, and our community.

Central to the Middle School CARES framework is the core belief that students need to be intentionally taught what positive expected behaviors look like in a variety of campus locations. Just as students don’t naturally know the intricacies of meiosis and mitosis, we, as adults, bear the important responsibility in working with our students so that they understand and embrace these behaviors.

Traditionally, schools have not often spent much time in the arena of behavioral education, in the belief that “rules” can simply be followed and real learning can easily take place inside the classroom. Proponents of this approach to “teaching” either assume that students innately “know the rules” and can “follow” them or that behavioral transgressions can simply be addressed when they occur with punishments and consequences, allowing students to then return to the task of learning. Many of us, as adults, may have well experienced this type of “learning” when we were in Junior High/Middle School. This top-down style of behavioral management often does little more than create blind or confused compliance while depriving students of a sense of agency, buy-in, and understanding of what creates a comfortable and inclusive community where all voices, including those of the students, can be heard.

For the past three weeks, our faculty and students have been working together to honestly discuss and agree upon the types of expected behaviors that are appropriate in a variety of places. These discussions, that worked to include the ideas and thoughts of students, resulted in agreed-upon behaviors that should be expected by all members of our community. Once these expected behaviors had been clearly identified, students and faculty are now in the process of practicing and re-learning these behaviors, knowing that it takes repetition and compassionate support to empower students with the understanding that they have the ability to manage their behaviors in ways that best support caring for themselves, others, and their community. 

Students, just like adults, need to not only know what is expected from them, but they also need to know what happens when unexpected behaviors occur that go against the norms of their community. Rather than meeting an unexpected behavior with an immediate and arbitrary punishment, the Middle School CARES framework approaches unexpected behaviors with an understood and appropriate range of tiered responses. More often than not, our response to unexpected behaviors resembles the following tiered approach:

• A discussion between the teacher and the student about the unexpected behavior
• A teacher-determined consequence that is logical and appropriate to the
  unexpected behavior
• A lunch detention where the student has the chance to positively reflect on their
  behavior
• Referral to the Student CARES Team

Most often, a simple discussion with an adult serves to help students understand and appropriately adjust their behaviors. The range of tiered responses increases in an attempt to provide students with greater support that will help them readjust their behaviors. If a student is truly struggling with any of our community’s expected behaviors, the Student CARES Team, made up of a variety of teachers and administrators, serves to meet and support students in understanding what they need in terms of support to better embrace and own behaviors with which they may be struggling.

Obviously there may be types of unexpected behaviors in our Middle School community that our Middle School CARES framework simply isn’t designed to handle. Issues such as the use of violence, drugs, weapons, certain types of bullying, etc. almost always require the immediate attention of administrators who can best address these more extreme behaviors and determine the most logical consequence.

Born out of the belief that students deserve compassionate support and possess the ability to be positive members of our community, the Middle School CARES framework strives to teach all members of our Middle School what behaviors can best serve them at this important stage in their development. Why?…because Middle School CARES!

Friday, Sept. 16

In last week’s Middle School Blast, I shared with our community the creation of a framework intended to establish the types of social and emotional behaviors that will create a community of learners where students, as well as faculty, thrive. Known as Middle School CARES, this framework captures the true intent of what we are striving to do within our community: Cultivating Accountability, Respect, Empathy, and Safety.  As educators, it is incumbent upon us to provide a clear understanding of the behavioral expectations in our school, as these expectations are centrally supportive to the three core beliefs of our Middle School community and culture:

Care of Yourself

Care of Others 

Care of Our Community. 

While it is important to research and determine what expected behaviors might best serve a student’s overall social, emotional, and academic development, it is a challenge to create a framework that fosters a sense of student buy-in and agreement when it comes to establishing “rules” that we, as adults, want our students to “follow.” In their book, “Better Than Carrots and Sticks,” authors Smith, Fisher, and Frey cite the all-too-common approach that schools have long-held when it comes to handling student discipline: “It’s far too common in schools for educators to wait for discipline problems to emerge and then handle them on a case-by-case basis. Such an approach leaves adults exhausted and children with limited skills development.” Having worked in eight independent schools during the course of my educational career, I have often witnessed the same approach in teaching the social and emotional development of students that is “often poorly articulated in schools — relegated to an assembly and a few accompanying lessons.” And the traditional tools for dealing with student behavioral issues has, sadly, often been rooted in approaches that don’t work over time and can occasionally be antithetical to what schools are supposed to be doing: teaching. “Reward and consequences, shame and humiliation…do not result in lasting change, much less a productive learning environment.” 

The work that was performed this past summer in the creation of the Middle School CARES framework resulted in the clear understanding that students need to be a part of the process in identifying and understanding the behavioral expectations that result in creating a community where they can thrive. Knowing that the three core beliefs of our Middle School — Care of Yourself, Care of Others, and Care of Our Community — are central to a healthy community, we have worked with our students during these opening three weeks of school to create a clear understanding of what expected behaviors look like for each of these beliefs:  

Care of Yourself
Ensuring that a student has what they need to be a successful member of our Middle School is vital. This means that as adults, we are helping students learn to take responsibility for their own needs (e.g., physical, emotional, academic, social, etc.) so that they can succeed in the many areas of their lives in Middle School. In the classroom, a student needs to know what is needed to be successful and then exhibit behaviors that best take care of themselves in this type of setting. Other settings will necessarily determine what a student needs to do in order to take care of themselves as well. When students are eating lunch, gathered for large group meetings and assemblies, on the stage, or on the playing field, they need to be aware of what is needed to best take care of themselves. Simply put, Care of Yourself means understanding what will allow a student to be personally successful in all areas of life in our Middle School community.

Care of Others
Helping students understand the responsibility they have to care for others serves to develop the empathy needed for a caring and compassionate community that best supports the needs of all its members. This means that it is a student’s responsibility to learn, with our adult guidance, what types of behaviors are helpful and can best take care of the needs of others in a positive and supportive manner. Learning how to take care of others can mean showing kindness to another student and knowing what types of comments or actions would be helpful for others. It can also mean knowing how and when to stand up for others who need the support and care of others. Whether it is in the classroom, the hallway, or the cafeteria, Care of Others means understanding that this type of care extends beyond one’s own needs and is intimately connected to the overall health of our Middle School community. 

Care of Our Community
Understanding that each and every member of the Middle School plays an integral role in creating and supporting a healthy and happy community, it is appropriate that all students develop and understand their sense of ownership and the role they play in maintaining the positive academic, social, and emotional behaviors that define our community. Whether through simple and easy actions like picking up after each other or respecting school property, Care of Our Community relies on a sense of communal responsibility that asks each member to act in appropriate ways at all times.

Knowing that it takes time for students to “buy-in,” learn, and embrace these expected behaviors,  we are still in the early stages of teaching, modeling, and re-teaching these expected behaviors. Research shows that, while it takes time for expected behaviors to become routinized, the most important part of any approach to student discipline is the relationship students have with their teachers…because Middle School CARES.

Friday, Sept. 9

Many of us have memories (most probably bad ones) when we hear the phrase “school discipline.” When I hear this phrase, I immediately go back to my second grade year at Lincoln Elementary School in New Britain, Connecticut. For whatever reason, my teacher, Mrs. Fuecco, had a strange obsession with students “tattling” on each other during class time. Her solution to address this problem? If you “tattled” on another student, you had to wear a red paper cut-out “Tattle Tail” that was pinned to the offending student’s backside (a.k.a. one’s butt) for the remainder of the day. To add insult to injury, the following words were written in bold black magic marker in a horizontal manner on the tail: “I’M A LITTLE TATTLE TALE.” Needless to say, Mrs. Fuecco’s approach to “discipline” did little more than create shame and embarrassment in her students. At the same time, it compelled those students who had a budding understanding of curse words that started with the letter “F” to create a song that wasn’t all that flattering to Mrs. Fuecco herself. If you want me to sing a verse of the “Mrs. Fuecco Song,” just find me and I will treat your ears to this wonderful little ditty.

For centuries, schools have struggled to create a “disciplinary system” that effectively addresses the types of behaviors that help students truly succeed. Often, schools develop and rely on a system of rewards and punishments that only result in short-term change and compliance, if little else. Alfie Kohn, well-known author and lecturer in the areas of education, parenting, and human behavior, notes that “scores of studies have confirmed that rewards tend to lead people to lose interest in whatever they had to do to snag them. This principle has been replicated with many different populations (across genders, ages, and nationalities) and with a variety of tasks as well as different kinds of inducements (money, A’s, food, and praise, to name four).” In their book, “Better Than Carrots and Sticks”, authors Dominique Smith, Douglas Fisher, and Nancy Frey cite that “punishments rely on our ability as adults to leverage an unequal power relationship over children; it puts students in their places by reminding them who’s really in charge.” While rewards and punishments might create temporary changes when it comes to student behavior, the truth in these approaches is simple: rewards and punishments don’t work and don’t teach students how to truly behave. When I had to walk around Lincoln School for a day with a red tail affixed to my rear-end, I only became more careful and secretive with tattling on others, and quickly learned the words to the “Mrs. Fuecco Song.” 

For a school-based disciplinary system to be truly effective, one only needs to understand the definition of the root word from which “disciplinary” derives — disciple: one who follows the beliefs of a leader or school of thought and spreads these beliefs to others. Simply put, a disciplinary system strives to teach students how to behave. Just as we don’t leave the acquisition of certain academic skills to chance, we must, in a similar manner, “engage in explicit, systematic, and intentional instruction” when it comes to ensuring that our students “progress socially and emotionally” as “Better Than Carrots and Sticks” said. And when our students are able to bring a sense of purpose, understanding, and relevance to the expected behaviors that will positively augment their overall experience in school, a true community of learners emerges.

As a Middle School, we have recently taken a very close look at how we want to establish the types of social and emotional behaviors that will create a community of learners where students, as well as faculty, thrive. This past summer, an enormous amount of work went into the creation of a framework that we are currently introducing to our students, called Middle School CARES. The acronym itself, CARES, captures the true intent of what we are striving to do: Cultivating Accountability, Respect, Empathy, and Safety. The true essence and purpose of the CARES framework can be understood in the intentional “Statement of Purpose & Goals” that was developed this past summer:

At the Seven Hills Middle School, we seek to best support our students’ behavioral, academic, social, emotional, and mental health. To promote student success in these areas, our Middle School provides a safe learning space where students feel valued and understood, develop meaningful and positive relationships with their teachers, and experience a deep sense of belonging. 

The main goal of Middle School CARES is to improve students’ social emotional competence, academic success, behavioral expectations, and our overall school climate. This goal also serves to improve teacher health and wellbeing by creating positive, reliable, fair, and safe learning environments where everyone thrives.

As educators, we must provide a clear understanding of the behavioral expectations in our school, as these expectations are centrally supportive to the three core beliefs of our Middle School community and culture:

Care of Yourself
Care of Others
Care of Our Community

When students take care of themselves, their classmates, and their school community, we can ensure that we are striving to support their best selves at all times.

In the coming weeks, I will be outlining the specific components of the CARES framework that we have introduced to our students during these opening weeks of school.  One thing I can assure you is that you won’t find any red paper cut-out “I’M A LITTLE TATTLE TALE” accessorizing a student’s outfit for the day… Stay tuned!

Friday, Sept. 2

Welcome to the 2022-23 school year! I hope that these first two weeks have gone well for you and your Middle Schooler. Each week in the Middle School Blast, I attempt to gather my thoughts around an important topic or idea that directly relates to the lives of our Middle School students. Hopefully, my “Message from the Middle” musings will prove helpful or informative as we all strive to raise happy and healthy adolescents. Please feel free to share with me your thoughts and reactions, knowing that we are all in this together!

Driving to school this morning, I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts, “The Daily,” hosted by New York Times journalist Michael Barbaro. This morning’s podcast brought me to a place I have come to accept as part of my day-to-day reality in working with young adolescents; worrying about their mental health. Titled “Inside the Adolescent Mental Health Crisis,” this podcast illuminated what is now being called a public mental health emergency. In 2021, Dr. Vivek Murthy, the U.S. Surgeon General, authored a 53-page report, “Protecting Youth Mental Health,” in which he states, “But the challenges today’s generation of young people face are unprecedented and uniquely hard to navigate. And the effect these challenges have had on their mental health is devastating.” And while we, as a Middle School, take the mental health of our students seriously and have created programs and curriculum to address many of these issues, I am still struck by the word that Dr. Murthy uses to underscore how he feels about the state of our children’s mental health: devastating. 

When one attempts to digest the data that supports Dr. Murthy’s assessment of the state of our children’s mental health, the reality is shocking. In Matt Richtel’s April 23, 2022 New York Times article “It’s Life or Death: The Mental Health Crisis Among U.S. Teens,” he cites some sobering statistics: “In 2019, 13 percent of adolescents reported having a major depressive episode, a 60 percent increase from 2007. Emergency room visits by children and adolescents in that period also rose sharply for anxiety, mood disorders, and self-harm. And for people ages 10 to 24, suicide rates, stable from 2000 to 2007, leaped nearly 60 percent by 2018, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.” Like any curious individual, I find myself searching for answers to the frightening rise in these numbers. How and why is this happening?

While it was only two and half years ago that the outbreak of COVID-19 changed our world, I don’t feel that this pandemic is solely responsible for the state of our children’s mental health. Even though the spreading use of cell phones and ready access to social media has had profoundly negative effects on our children’s mental health, I don’t know if this growth in technology is solely to blame as well.  What is it that has truly changed in the lives of our children? It was in listening to “The Daily” podcast that I gained a bit more understanding as to the nature of what has changed for our children. 

There was a time in our not-too-distant past that the public health risks adolescents were exposed to were more external in nature. Thirty and forty years ago, binge drinking, drunk driving, cigarette use, experimentation with drugs, and sexual activity were fairly popular externalized risks that were often experienced with one’s peers in more group-centered activities. However, when you look at the rate of incidence of these same activities from 30 years ago to today, things have drastically changed, albeit, for the better. In 1990, 50 percent of teenagers reported having had sex at least once; now that figure is 38 percent. In 2019, 4 percent of high schoolers reported smoking a cigarette in the last 30 days, down from 26.5 percent in 1997. Along with this, alcohol use has hit 30-year lows.

With the drops in these types of public health risks, there has also been a rise in the more internalized risks that adolescents are now facing, such as anxiety, depression, mood disorders, and stress. After listening to “The Daily” podcast and reading Matt Richtel’s NYT article, it appears to me that there is a common denominator that underlies many of the mental health risks our children are now facing: loneliness. Richtel states that “Aarise in loneliness is a key factor… Recent studies have shown that teenagers in the United States and worldwide increasingly report feeling lonely, even in a period when their internet use has exploded.” It’s no wonder that, when a 13-year-old checks his social media feed and sees pictures of his classmates having fun without him, he feels more isolated, disconnected, and depressed about his own sense of self. It’s also no wonder when a 12-year-old girl refuses to go to school, fearing the ridicule she may face as a result of an embarrassing picture her “friend” had posted without her permission. 

While I don’t have any immediate answers or quick-fixes to the mental health challenges that our children are now facing, I feel more strongly than ever that we, as adults, have to find authentic ways to connect with our children and to connect our children with the world outside their bedrooms. It is my sincere hope that our Seven Hills Middle School can be just that sort of community that serves to facilitate relationships that empower students to feel valued and respected. Thankfully, we have a robust array of mental health resources at Seven Hills that can help our children successfully navigate these challenging years in their lives.

Friday, April 29

I am often dumbfounded by some of the amazingly philosophical insights that Middle Schoolers make. However, it shouldn’t surprise any of us that a 13 year old has the capacity to put into words highly complex and theoretical ideas that often belie their gawky and awkward physical appearance at this moment in their overall development. Knowing how lucky I am to be working with Middle School students, I am writing this week’s “Message From The Middle” on Holocaust Remembrance Day, April 27, realizing that the world lost one of its most memorable, insightful, and inquisitive young teenagers 77 years ago.

Anne Frank started writing her diary in June of 1942 at the age of 13, a few weeks before her family went into hiding in order to escape the persecution of the Jews in Nazi-occupied Amsterdam. “The Diary of a Young Girl,” also known as “The Diary of Anne Frank,” reflects Anne’s musings and observations during her two years of confinement in her father’s office annex. Anne’s diary holds numerous and highly memorable comments, not only about her daily life during her confinement, but also about some of the fundamental truths about human nature. I particularly love and admire Anne’s thoughts about the power and importance of having independent ideas of one’s own: “We aren’t allowed to have any opinions. People can tell you to keep your mouth shut, but it doesn’t stop you having your own opinion. Even if people are still very young, they shouldn’t be prevented from saying what they think.” 

Even though she realized the horrific truths about the evils of fascism, her comment also reflects the truth of what it means to be a young adult. So often, adults attempt to dictate and prescribe how children should think and behave, with an expectation of compliance and agreement. However, we all know that children are always observing and thinking. As they watch the world unfold before their eyes, children are constantly forming opinions and ideas of their own.

Anne Frank’s remarkable comments about the human condition also reminds me that children of all ages are capable of highly abstract and complex thinking. For a long time, developmental psychology posited that children start off as literal and limited thinkers, only growing into abstract thinking in their mid-teenage years. Jean Piaget, most well-known for his work on cognitive development, argued that it wasn’t until the age of roughly 12 when a person entered the fourth and final stage of cognitive development, the formal operational stage, when children “become much more adept at abstract thought and deductive reasoning.”

While Piaget’s four stages of cognitive development do hold some truths, as parents we all know that very young children have the ability to express highly philosophical ideas. Scott Hershovitz’s recent article in The Atlantic, “Why Kids Make The Best Philosophers,” notes that young children have what we, as adults, often lack; the willingness to ask questions. “Children are sophisticated thinkers, more than capable of abstract thought. They’re creative, too. Indeed, in some ways, kids make better philosophers than adults. They question things grown-ups take for granted. And they’re open to new ideas. We can learn a lot from listening to kids — and from thinking with them.” Hershovitz’s recently published book, “Nasty, Brutish, and Short: Adventures in Philosophy With My Kids,” points out that we have often underestimated the cognitive abilities of children, especially when they are very young. His book also calls into question the idea that “kids’ minds improve as they age,” noting the research of Alison Gopnik, a professor of philosophy at the University of California at Berkeley. Gopnik writes, in her book “The Philosophical Baby,” that child development is “more like a metamorphosis, like caterpillars becoming butterflies, than like simple growth — though it may seem that children are the vibrant, wandering butterflies who transform into caterpillars inching along the grown-up path.” I love this metaphor, as it points out Ann Frank’s compelling observation that people need to hold onto their independent ideas and observations of the world, even when “prevented from saying what they think” by others.

And it is Anne Frank’s observation that I carry with me as I go about my work each day in the Middle School, knowing that a bit of “butterfly” still exists and is nurtured in our students. As both parents and teachers, one of the most important jobs we have is to nourish the free and independent thought of our children. Perhaps Anne Frank’s words state the true value and importance of what is essential in our work in raising children: “I don’t think of all the misery but of the beauty that still remains.” Keep looking for those butterflies, my friends…

Friday, April 22

The old adage, “The more things change, the more they stay the same,” has lately been an earworm echoing in my mind as I read numerous articles this week about the banning of certain textbooks and novels in schools. While I clearly understand that how, when, where, and why we introduce topics needs to be aligned with a child’s emotional and intellectual development, I am finding myself taking more and more deep breaths, wondering where much of the angst and anger over this issue will take us, as both parents and educators.

Having read and taught many of the books that continue to appear on the American Library Association’s “Banned & Challenged Books” list, this year’s outburst of what books should be banned seems especially loud and vociferous. Issues such as critical race theory, LGBTQ rights, etc., have often been at the forefront of school board decisions, occasionally acting as determinants to what should or shouldn’t be “banned” from the classroom. It was in this spirit that I carefully read Sungjoo Yoon’s New York Times opinion piece, “I’m a High School Junior. Let’s Talk About ‘Huckleberry Finn’ and ‘Mockingbird.’” Yoon confidently exposes what, I feel, is the central issue behind the ongoing debate of limiting and/or preventing children’s access to books that have been challenged by adults. More and more often, the adults who are making the decisions about what students read are laser-focused on the hyper-partisan issues that serve to divide them.

Yoon reflects on what he witnessed when he attended a school board meeting about five books that had been proposed to be removed from the Burbank (CA) Unified School District’s high school curriculum: “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” “The Cay,” “To Kill A Mockingbird,” “Of Mice and Men,” and “Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry.” Rather than hearing thoughtful and respectful discussions, Yoon notes that “I witnessed the public forum — made up mostly of parents, administrators, and educators — devolve into tribalist dissension. The meeting quickly became a two-sided shouting match pitting supposed ‘freedoms’ against purported ‘justice.’ ” While it was clear to Yoon that these adults strongly disagreed with each other, there was little (if no) discussion on “how” they disagreed. I find it almost embarrassing, yet sadly accurate, that we allow our political partisanships to get the better of us. In words that seem to belie his young age, Yoon notes, “We need to shift focus away from reflexive outrage about restrictions and bans and toward actual discussions of the merits and drawbacks of the individual books.”

One of my favorite books that has often made the ALA’s list of “Banned & Challenged Books” has been Harper Lee’s “To Kill A Mockingbird.” Those who have argued for the banning of Lee’s book have often argued that its use of strong language, discussion of sexuality and rape, and the use of the “n-word” are reasons enough for excluding it from a school’s curriculum. Certainly, these issues are difficult to read about; however, in the hands of a strong and gifted teacher, Lee’s book has the potential to positively influence and inform a student audience, allowing them to critically wrestle with the book’s discussion of justice, prejudice, and courage. I am most proud that our seventh grade students have the opportunity to read “To Kill A Mockingbird” under the strong and compassionate guidance of Mrs. Mandy Hayes. Are students exposed to some of the difficult and problematic issues that have led some school districts to ban this book? Yes. Do students witness horrific injustice directed toward those who have faced years of discrimination and hatred? Yes. Do students have the chance to see the power that courage, bravery, and love can have on other human beings? Most certainly. To watch Mrs. Hayes teach this book, year after year, with her careful attention to the developing and influential minds of her students is to watch a skilled professional lovingly teach the content and value of Lee’s book with care and compassion.

As professionals, we must always be examining the content and value of all that we do in our Middle School classrooms, knowing that all decisions must be made with the students’ best interests in mind. With the goal of educating “young minds,” the Seven Hills mission statement stresses the importance of engaging “our students’ hearts and minds, challenging them to develop their unique abilities and preparing each for a meaningful role in a rapidly changing world.” And while the shouts of hyper-partisanship, debate, and outright anger continue to stream across social media, we must remain faithful and vigilant to what is essential for our students as they make their way through our classrooms.

Friday, April 15

One of the most difficult aspects of being a parent to a Middle Schooler is knowing how to best support your child when they come to you with a problem. I recall with disturbing clarity those times when I thought I was providing sagely advice when one of my struggling adolescent children came to me for help, only to be met with rage and fury, and the comment, “you’re just making it worse, Dad!” The slam of the door as my child stomped out of the room only served to punctuate my utter failure to help my child. So often, our well-intended efforts to help our children when they are struggling at this difficult moment in their emotional development fail to recognize what it is they really need when they (finally) come to us; a patient and supportive ear to simply listen.

Lisa Damour’s recent article, “Why Teenagers Reject Parents’ Solutions to Their Problems,” provides some insight to this dilemma that we all face in trying to do what is best for our child. More than anything else, providing a sounding board for our child to “spill their jumbled thoughts on the table, where they can survey and perhaps organize them” is essential in helping them intentionally articulate and see their problems and worries. The act of consciously and compassionately listening to your child, without providing interruptive commentary or suggestions, goes a long way in giving our child a sense of agency and control. As adults, we know the need and value in simply getting something off our chests and out into the open, sharing our problems and frustrations with another trusted adult. Our kids need the same thing.

When our child shares a problem with us, it not only provides a sense of relief for them, but also gives us the chance to empathize with their own struggles. Damour notes that, at these times, “they may come to us, but looking only for empathy, not solutions. Offering a sincere, ‘Oh man, that stinks,’ or ‘You have every right to be upset,’ lets them know that we are willing to keep them company in their distress.” As parents, the desire to seek solutions for our child’s problems is woven into our DNA. However, we need to realize that empathizing with our child and acknowledging that some problems can’t be immediately fixed is one of the most important pieces of parental advice we need to heed. Empathy allows our children to know that they aren’t alone with their problems.

As a parent, I slowly began to realize that when one of my daughters came to me with a problem, they were exercising the most important emotional muscle that a human can develop; vulnerability. The ability to open-up and bare one’s self to others, without the emotional armor that so often weighs us down, is a bold and brave move. When our child risks being vulnerable with us, we need to simply listen and refrain from offering advice, solutions, or reprimands. Damour notes that “well-intentioned guidance can land like criticism, and lectures or I-told-you-sos — however warranted — might feel like outright attacks. Even if you are itching to point out that studying for the chemistry test last weekend instead of going to a basketball game would have prevented the problem altogether, it’s probably best to save that conversation for another time.”

When our child does come to us to share their problems and we consciously and compassionately listen, they might even ask us for advice! Moments like these call for us to work with our child in coming up with solutions rather than coming up with solutions for our child. Being a partner with your child provides them with a sense of agency and advocacy that will serve them well, both now and in the years to come. More than anything else, we want our child to be a happy adult who feels in control of their life. And even though it is very difficult to imagine your 13-year-old becoming an independent and well-adjusted 33-year-old, we need to sincerely listen and understand their needs now.

Friday, March 18

There is little doubt that we are living in trying times. Even though the pandemic is appearing less threatening, we are on our guard for what possible new variants and threats might appear in the unknown future. Inflation and rising interest rates are forcing us to check our spending habits as we try to plan our financial futures with less certainty. And then there is the war in Ukraine. As adults, we are living in troubling and uncertain times. I also know that our Middle Schoolers are, to varying degrees, aware of these troubles as well. How we cope with these challenges and threats is directly related to our overall mental health. As you know, we work hard as a Middle School to be aware and responsive to how our students are feeling, encouraging them to seek help and assistance when needed. Giving them a sense of agency is crucial at this stage of their development, empowering them to feel some sense of control, even when so much seems out of control. Our recent Aid For Ukraine this past Friday, March 11 was overwhelmingly positive in helping our Seven Hills community donate needed items to those struggling with the effects of the war in Ukraine. Even though it was a simple and relatively small act, helping students to feel some control during unsettling moments in their lives often provides hope, optimism, and self-care. As adults, we need to practice a similar degree of self-care, even though it may feel difficult and bit self-centered.

Here’s a quick two minute antidote to all of this gloom-and-doom. Call 707-873-7862 and you will be asked to choose from a series of options. Feeling mad, frustrated, or nervous? Press 1; need words of encouragement and life advice? Press 2; need a pep-talk? Press 3; need to hear kids laughing with delight? Press 4. PepToc, a new advice hotline that shares the words of wisdom from students at West Side School, a very small primary school located in Healdsburg, CA, north of San Francisco, offers what many of us need right now; ways to smile, laugh, and take a pause during these hectic and worrisome days. In her recent article in the New York Times, Isabella Grullón Paz notes that West Side School art teacher Jessica Martin, who created PepToc, understood the advice that young children can offer adults during times like these. “The pandemic, the war in Ukraine — it’s all still very raw, and we’ve never had the time to emotionally recover,” Ms. Martin continued. “But to hear the pure joy from kids is extremely comforting.”

I placed a call to PepToc and loved some of the following pieces of sage advice from these young philosophers:

• “If you’re nervous, go get your wallet and spend it on ice cream and shoes.”
• “If you’re frustrated, you can always go to your bedroom, punch your pillow or cry on it. And just go scream outside.”
• “If you’re mad or frustrated, you can do what you want to do best…or you can do flips on the trampoline.”

However, my favorite piece of advice came when I pressed 4 and heard the silly and contagious laughter of children that was looped, providing me a two minute uninterrupted respite from my own day.

While we all know that kids can make us smile and laugh, we often forget this when we are caught up in our own heads, worrying about serious matters that are, often, frightening and foundationally unsettling. While our worries and problems won’t go away until we address them, making and taking the time to pause, relax, and breathe has amazingly restorative effects.

I seriously urge you to pause, after you finish reading this article, and dial 707-873-7862, choosing for yourself what might best help you at this very moment.  Go ahead…I dare you!

Friday, March 4

This past week, we have asked students to perform a task that often proves troublesome to many of us in this day and age of constantly being distracted by bright and shiny objects: to reflect on one’s own. By encouraging our students to spend time thinking and reflecting about their recent academic performances, our goal is to empower these young adults to confront difficult and sometimes troublesome parts of their lives that they might prefer to ignore with a simple swipe of the screen or a change of the channel. I know this to be personally true, as I tend to easily distract myself from examining those parts of my own life that I would rather not embrace, such as ______________ (insert any of the following here: preparing my taxes, examining my spending habits, scheduling my yearly physical, etc.). It is simply human nature that, when left fully alone, we tend to ruminate on what’s wrong in our lives. 

In her New York Times article “No Time To Think,” Kate Murphy notes that “We have evolved to become problem solvers and meaning makers. What preys on our minds, when we aren’t updating our Facebook page or in spinning class, are the things we haven’t figured out — difficult relationships, personal and professional failures, money trouble, health concerns and so on.” This doesn’t surprise me in the least, as when I ask friends how they are doing, more often than not their response is “I’m crazy, super, and insanely busy!” We are always finding ways to keep ourselves busy, even when we actually have the time to think and be by ourselves. Timothy Wilson, a psychology professor at the University of Virginia, published a 2014 report in the journal Science “Just Think: The challenges of the disengaged mind.” The abstract to which shockingly supports the idea that we, as humans, will often go to extraordinary ends to avoid being left alone with our thoughts: “In 11 studies, we found that participants typically did not enjoy spending six to 15 minutes in a room by themselves with nothing to do but think, that they enjoyed doing mundane external activities much more, and that many preferred to administer electric shocks to themselves instead of being left alone with their thoughts.”

While I can’t imagine a world where giving myself an electronic shock would be more preferable than being alone with my thoughts, I do understand the fear and worry about confronting troubling feelings and ideas. Indeed, we live in a culture that promotes “doing more than thinking and believes answers are in the palm of your hand rather than in your own head.” And, the longer we fail to confront what is going on in our minds, the longer our problems fester and grow, often resulting in real and harmful mental and physical maladies. It’s little wonder that the rise in childhood anxiety and depression is so often linked to the countless hours children spend in front of screens.  

In working with Middle School students, it is vital that we create ways for them to confront and wrestle with how they are feeling and how they are doing, without the many distractions that are a part of growing up in the 21st century. Many school communities are embracing powerful approaches to addressing this challenge. Mindfulness training is becoming a more important part of a school’s curriculum, empowering students to be better able to recognize and accept — rather than to ignore or repress — one’s inner thoughts and feelings. In her article, Murphy also notes that the power of a less distracted, idle brain has been linked to increased empathy and creativity. While it is a fact that Middle School students are highly distractible, we must strive to provide them with opportunities where those bright and shiny objects are put away, allowing them to experience the gifts of reflection and simply being alone with one’s own thoughts and feelings.

Friday, Feb. 25

One truth I have learned about Middle Schoolers is their secret desire to look like they have everything under control. A perfect day for a Middle Schooler would be one in which they don’t stand out in their respective tribe and they appear flawless at a time in their lives when flaws are, quite literally, part of their own physical and emotional maturation. In a face-to-face conversation I recently had with an eighth grade boy who wanted to talk to me about his “unfair” lunch detention, I couldn’t help but notice the layers of blemish cream he had caked onto his pimple-ridden chin, knowing that he had spent a significant amount of time that morning covering up his perceived flaws before he was to arrive to school. This is when my heart aches for Middle School students, whom I want to embrace and tell them that we all have struggled with pimple outbreaks and that this too, will pass. Middle Schoolers remind me, on a daily basis, of the fundamental truth of what it means to be a human being. How we appear and present our public selves to others rarely, if ever, reveals the truths of our private selves that lurk just below the surface of this public skin. We all have our own struggles and flaws that we have learned to artfully cover-up in order to present a more polished version of ourselves to our own communities.

A friend recently shared with me Frank Bruni’s New York Times opinion piece, “One Day I Couldn’t See Right. My Life Hasn’t Been The Same Since,” that beautifully sketched out what I know Middle Schoolers (and the rest of us) struggle with on a daily basis. As a result of a rare stroke that damaged the optic nerve behind his right eye, Bruni notes that his impaired vision empowered him to “see” humans in a way that he had never been able to do so beforehand: “Bit by bit, the people around me came into sharper focus, by which I mean that their fears, struggles and triumphs did.” Bruni’s “sharper focus” compelled him to “see,” at a deeper level, the struggles and hurdles that we have all faced, but have learned to cover-up. When he found out that a fellow writer with whom he worked out next to on a daily basis had been the pilot in a plane crash that resulted in the death of his lone passenger — his only child — Bruni was stunned. Not having any idea of the pain and guilt that this man had been lugging about with him for years, Bruni’s newfound respect and admiration for his friend was profoundly humbling.

Bruni goes on to cite the “struggles and hurdles” he discovered of other friends and acquaintances, all of which collectively reinforced for him the fundamental truth of what it means to be human: “There’s almost always a discrepancy between how people appear to us and what they’re actually experiencing; between their public gloss and private mess; between their tally of accomplishments — measured in money, rankings, ratings, and awards — and a hidden, more consequential accounting.”

If we could only remind ourselves that we all have, just below the surface of our public skin, struggles, obstacles, and anxieties that are truly daunting, we would all “see” each other in ways that would promote compassion, empathy, and love. However, to bare our struggles to the world is a tough ask, as it opens us up to the unnerving challenge of being vulnerable to our communities: “Imagine that our hardships, our hurdles, our demons were spelled out for everyone around us to see. Imagine that each of us donned a sandwich board that itemized them.” In asking us to imagine a reality where our flaws and demons are laid bare for others to see, Bruni poses a challenge that many of us, as adults, would avoid for a variety of understandable reasons.

My goal, as an educator, is to create a reality for Middle School students where their own hardships and hurdles are embraced by supportive and caring adults. We have intentionally created important structures in our Middle School program that help our teachers better understand the social and emotional lives of their students. Grade level teams, advisors, a Middle School counselor, and direct counseling support with Best Point and the Children’s Home are all fundamental components that serve to support our students and their struggles. Our recent administration of the Terrace Metrics assessments for all Middle School students has afforded us a unique way to peer into the social and emotional lives of our students. As a result of these assessments, we have garnered important information about some of the struggles that our students are dealing with and can, in response, extend a helping and supportive hand in this regard. And while I know that Middle School students will continue to apply their own types of “blemish cream” to cover-up the painful parts of their public lives that are all a part of adolescence, we must, as educators, realize and embrace, as Bruni notes, “the secrets that people carry, of the suffering that they bury.”

Friday, Feb. 11

Ever since I was young enough to swim, ski, and run, I have always loved watching the Olympics. And while I never had dreams of competing at this high level in any sport, I loved being involved in athletics and continued to idolize certain athletes for their historic Olympic achievements. Mark Spitz, Joan Benoit-Samuelson, Steve Prefontaine, Muhammed Ali/Cassius Clay, Dave Wottle…the list goes on and on. Growing up in the 70s and 80s, these athletes represented, for me, what years of hard work, sacrifice, and determination could achieve. While I knew a bit about their respective personal lives and climbs to fame, I saw them as basically two-dimensional characters. They worked hard and they overcame challenges by sheer determination.

However, with the recent non-stop 24/7 coverage of the past several Olympics, I am now learning more about athletes and their own personal struggles as they win and lose at the highest level of their sport on a stage that the world closely scrutinizes. I have been particularly fascinated with the recent performances of alpine skier Mikaela Shiffrin, who failed to finish her opening runs in the women’s giant slalom and slalom races this past week. Heavily favored to win gold medals in Beijing, Shiffrin suffered a degree of defeat that was both shocking and soul-crushing. The untold years of preparation for these Olympics failed to produce the victories that many had expected of her.

After her recent failure in the slalom event, the cameras zeroed in on Shiffrin, yearning to capture a storied athlete at their most vulnerable and lowest point. As the cameras captured her shocked expression, Shiffrin was candidly and brutally honest about how she would try to continue with upcoming races following these two disastrous performances, “I’ll try to reset again, and maybe try to reset better this time…But I also don’t know how to do it better because … I’ve never been in this position before, and I don’t know how to handle it.” By telling the world that she doesn’t “know how to handle it,” Shiffrin entered that arena of vulnerability that we so rarely see from high-performing individuals who have often been trained to “muscle through” the pain and agony of defeat, all the while keeping a “stiff upper lip.”

By embracing vulnerability, Shiffrin is joining more and more athletes who are facing challenges in open and healthy ways by simply admitting that they are struggling. Simone Biles, Naomi Osaka, Michael Phelps, and other athletes have shared their own personal challenges by embracing struggle and by being vulnerable. As some of you may know, Brené Brown is one of my heroes, as her work and research on shame, vulnerability, and leadership are, simply put, life changing. In thinking about Shiffrin’s willingness to be open, courageous, and vulnerable, Brown’s words from her bestseller, “Braving The Wilderness” again come to mind in relation to personal struggle and vulnerability, “The definition of vulnerability is uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. But vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our most accurate measure of courage. When the barrier is our belief about vulnerability, the question becomes: ‘Are we willing to show up and be seen when we can’t control the outcome?’ When the barrier to vulnerability is about safety, the question becomes: ‘Are we willing to create courageous spaces so we can be fully seen?’”

While I will be rooting for Mikaela Shiffrin in her final races in Beijing, my respect for her willingness to be vulnerable with her own struggles solidifies her place in my list of amazingly courageous Olympians.

Friday, Feb. 4

I was deeply saddened with the recent passing of Thích Nhất Hạnh on Jan. 22, 2022. Thích Nhất Hạnh was the well-known Vietnamese Buddhist monk, peace activist, author, poet, teacher, and founder of the Plum Village Tradition. Known by his followers as “Thầy” (Vietnamese for teacher), he was a major proponent of “engaged Buddhism,” a way of thinking and living that applies Buddhist ethics to more contemporary conflicts and injustices related to modern society. It was during my graduate studies that I became aware of Thầy, as I was deeply immersed in the study of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s work on addressing societal injustices in our world. When he was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize in 1967, “in recognition of his huge efforts to end the Vietnam war,” Martin Luther King, Jr. endorsed his nomination by stating, “I do not personally know of anyone more worthy of [this prize] than this gentle monk from Vietnam. His ideas for peace, if applied, would build a monument to ecumenism, to world brotherhood, to humanity.”

I have remained deeply interested in the teachings of Thầy, especially as it relates to my ongoing understanding of how to best educate and engage the minds of young adolescents. In his 2017 book, “Happy Teachers Change The World: A Guide For Cultivating Mindfulness In Education,” Thầy stressed the power and importance in developing a sense of mindfulness as teachers work with their students. Knowing that children are so often driven and attentive to distractions that pull them away from their ability to focus and remain engaged, Thầy believed that teachers have the ability to develop a sense of engagement and awareness in students that traditional approaches to education have often overlooked. In an article that he wrote in 2021, “Being Mindful As A School Teacher,” Thầy compares this distraction as if one is constantly tuned-in to a radio station: “There is a radio that is going on all the time in our mind called Radio NST: Non-Stop Thinking.”

As parents and educators, we know of and witness the daily power and strength that NST has over the lives of our children. Whatever the distraction, we know that NST pulls our children away from what is going on right before their eyes, whether in the classroom, on the athletic field, at the dining room table, or during social interactions with their peers. As adults, we are also quite familiar with NST in our own lives. Thầy strongly believed that by being intentionally mindful to the “here and now” that is always present, we have the power to be positively engaged in the world that we live in. While thinking can be a productive activity, Thầy notes that “sometimes it can take us away from the experience of being with who is there and what is happening in the here and now.” As a proponent of the practice of mindfulness, Thầy always returned to the power of breathing as a way to assist our mind to return to the present moment; “When we stop our talking and calm our thinking and breathe, we become alive again, and aware of what is happening inside and around us.” Perhaps more than anything else, I will miss Thầy’s sense of powerful optimism and his belief in the transformative power of simply paying attention to what is going on in our minds.

In honor of Thích Nhất Hạnh, I close this week’s reflection with his powerful vision of what mindfulness could do for schools everywhere: “Suppose one thousand students are sitting still during a school assembly and practicing mindful breathing to calm their body and release tension with a guided meditation like this! The children in that group will feel a powerful energy that can help them to become calm and to feel happy. A child who finds himself or herself with a group of people in school who can generate the energy of love and understanding will have more chance to transform his or her suffering. A collective energy of peace, generated by mindfulness, is the answer.”

Friday, Jan. 28

I don’t know about you, but Sunday evenings tend to be that part of the week when I feel most anxious and nervous. Following a Friday and Saturday of markedly leisure activities (e.g. going to Findlay Market, visiting the Mercantile Library, having dinner with friends, going for long runs), I have this foreboding sense that my leisure time is quickly ending and my work time is loudly knocking on my mind’s door; I am not on any real schedule at this point on a Sunday evening…I am no longer in my world of leisure and not yet ready for my world of work. When I ask students how their weekend was, they often share the same feelings; Sunday evenings tend to be the most worrisome and anxious times of their weeks, as they are often struggling to shift from play mode to work mode. 

Labeling this time of the weekend as the “Sunday scaries,” writer Derek Thompson poses in his article “How Civilization Broke Our Brains” an interesting question about the human species: “This bizarre need to feel busy, or to feel that time is structured, even when one is sprawled on the couch on a weekend afternoon — where does it come from? Is it inscribed in our DNA, or is it as much an invention of industrialized culture as paper clips and microchips?” Exploring how we got to this state of anxiousness vis-à-vis the work and leisure parts of our lives, Thompson takes a look at earlier civilizations where the worlds of work and leisure were never really distinguishable. It has only been through the rise of industrialized economies, Thompson contends, that specialization in jobs demanded more specific skill-sets. As a result, with greater specialization “superior performance was rewarded [and] a cult of competition emerged: High achievers believed they could and should always toil harder for a fatter raise, bigger house, higher honor, or more wondrous breakthrough. Where rest once beckoned, now restlessness did.” 

Without a doubt, we now live in a world that is largely driven by and honors productivity. And without question, high levels of productivity have resulted in amazing advances in our world for which we are all grateful; vaccines, Venmo, electric cars, and streaming services have all made our lives easier and more efficient. But, unlike TukTuk and DingDing who lived in neighboring caves during the Stone Age and communally relied on each other for survival, we now live in a world that separates our work/productivity lives from our leisure/relaxation lives, where leisure is “the default mode” when we are not “working.” I found it especially dispiriting when Thompson notes the results of a recent Pew Research Center survey that asked about the secret to happiness; “most Americans, of all ages, ranked ‘a job or career they enjoy’ above marriage, children, or any other committed relationship.” Clearly, the power and allure of being productive at work (or school) has the strong potential to jeopardize those community-based relationships that are so important and foundational to long-term happiness.  

While I don’t have any ready answers or solutions to how we can prevent the “Sunday scaries” from occurring on a weekly basis, I do feel that creating a sense of connection and meaning between our work and leisure lives is a step in the right direction. For students, creating learning experiences and opportunities that are personal and important, that speak to what it means to be human, happy, and hopeful have the ability to create connection and lend meaning to our lives. You and I both know of individuals who truly love their work and regularly comment that their work often doesn’t feel like work at all; it feels more like play. I would love to create a system of education where we could honestly change the term homework to homeplay, where students derive purpose and meaning from what they are learning. A boy can dream…

Friday, Jan. 21

esterday, as I was in the process of reminding a seventh grade boy to pull his mask up over his mouth and nose, he sighed and asked me, “Is this ever going to end?” I had to pause and reflect on his seemingly sardonic comment; does he think that mask wearing is here to stay for the rest of his life or was he simply fed up with yet another adult reminding him of the tedious process of always covering his mouth and nose? After he dutifully pulled up his mask and trudged away, I wondered if we are raising kids who are in the process of developing a sense of existential dread as to what their lives will be like in the years to come.

As adults, we have the gift of time and experience to feel a bit optimistic that things will get better. We all have our own experiences that prove the truth of the old adage that most things do, indeed, get better.  However, I wonder what this generation of students is currently experiencing and worry about their ability to trust in that optimistic maxim that I was raised with. As I read Jessica Grose’s New York Times opinion piece, “Your Kid’s Existential Dread Is Normal,” I was reminded about a child’s natural ability to develop abstract thought, allowing them to pose complex and occasionally worrisome problems and concepts. Recalling my understanding of Jean Piaget, the Swiss psychologist known for his work on child development, and his theory of cognitive development, I know that the ability for a child to pose abstract and worrisome questions is a natural part of their growth and maturation. Piaget’s fourth and final stage of cognitive development, known as the Formal Operational Stage, begins to emerge right around the time Middle School begins — 11 years of age or so. As noted on PsychPoint’s article on Piaget, “During this final stage, a child’s ability to use logical thought matures. A child is able to think abstractly and understand complex logic. They develop the ability to reason. The ability to reason comes with the ability to challenge facts and theories.” Being able to hold and consider several — and often conflicting —  ideas at once in one’s mind is a hallmark of this important higher order thinking ability. 

And while this stage of cognitive development takes years to mature, I know that posing existential questions about the long-term implications of a worldwide pandemic is simply a natural part of the healthy intellectual development of an adolescent’s mind. As Middle School parents, I am confident that you know what I am talking about. The vexing, disturbing, and occasionally mind-numbing conversations that we have with our kids can be quite worrisome: Why is the world so unjust? Why do innocent people suffer? How do I know if I will be successful? Why do drive-through ATMs have Braille on the number pads? Sadly, I can easily recall being a sixth grader when my best friend’s brother was killed while he was fighting in Vietnam. I began to experience a real sense of dread and worry that this war was never going to end, that being in school was pointless, and that I was destined to serve in Vietnam and face the same tragic end as my friend’s brother. My parents helped console my worries and reassured me that I was safe and that they would protect me to the best of their abilities. 

As Grose notes in her article, it can be painful to watch a young adolescent realize that “life has infinite possibilities, not all of them good.” Whether we are the parents or teachers of Middle School students, it is our responsibility to foster the healthy and oftentimes worrisome intellectual growth of our children. Just so you know, this morning, I saw the same boy who hadn’t earlier been wearing his mask properly. As he approached me, he pulled down his mask below his nose and mouth, stuck out his tongue at me, and returned his mask to its proper positioning. All I could do was smile and give a nod and a chuckle.

Friday, Jan. 14

Failure is a tough thing to experience and handle. Whether you are a seventh grader who has just failed a quiz, a junior in college who has just been dumped by her boyfriend, or a 45-year-old person who has just received a rejection letter for that dream job. These types of denials can be devastating. Even worse, if passing the quiz, staying with the boyfriend, or landing the job had become important in defining one’s own identity, suffering defeats in any of these arenas has the potential to only heighten feelings of worthlessness. I often find that many Middle School students place such an extreme degree of importance on success that any type of failure can become both devastating and debilitating. Certainly, seeing success and failure in this manner is, in part, developmental. Due to the fact that Middle School is often the first time when letter grades are given, students don’t have the experience in realizing that these types of assessments are not especially predictive of future success or failure. 

It was in this spirit that I read Arthur Brooks’ recent article, “How To Succeed At Failure” with such interest. In his article, Brooks points out that “emotional suffering,” while painful, had (at one point in our human evolution) a purpose. If TukTuk the caveman decided to fight his larger hominoid neighbor DingDing for that really cool hand tool and suffered the unhappiness of failure, TukTuk learned a valuable and logical survival lesson; don’t fight bigger cavemen! However, Brooks points out that in our modern and much safer world, “such misery is maladaptive. The same emotion honed by nature to kick in after your ancestors failed to bag a mastodon afflicts you today because you got rejected from Penn State. That negative feeling doesn’t make you any likelier to survive — and can even lead to depression and anxiety disorders.” What I find so problematic when Middle Schoolers experience failure is not their immediate sense of “emotional suffering” but rather their tendency to ruminate on this failure for long periods of time. The act of rumination, in and of itself, is problematic, as it places a feeling or thought foremost in one’s mind, often in a most obsessive manner. Brooks goes on to note that this is not a healthy way to handle failure: “Ruminating over a failure keeps it front and center and can lead to catastrophizing. You might imagine a cascade of events leading to permanent ruin and misery: ‘I got fired from my job. Now no one will want to hire me, I’ll be permanently unemployed, and I might even lose my house. My life is ruined’.” Catastrophizing, or what I think of as “circling the drain,” is never productive and has the ability to lead to long-term, negative consequences such as avoidance, anxiety, and depression. I have often heard Middle Schoolers describe this feeling as if they are, quite literally, “stuck,” lacking the ability to move forward. 

In order to posit failure as a way to move forward in a positive manner, Brooks offers three strategies to turn failure into a path toward success. First, review the past failures of others (as well as your own). Xiaodong D. Lin, a professor of cognitive studies at Columbia University’s Teachers College and her colleagues found that studying past failures helped individuals gain a “clearer, more logical perspective on the events,” often helping them to see the positive side of the failure itself. Second, setting goals for improvement and learning, rather than simply for “success,” can lead to long-term growth and gain. While it can be laborious in getting a Middle Schoolers to look at what they learned from a recent failure, understanding that there is progress in each defeat and that “the sting of a rejection is temporary” helps them to see that the learning gained from a failure can be permanent. Finally, and most difficult, is the ability to “keep your ideals front and center” in the face of failure. Knowing and reminding yourself that you are a curious and inquisitive person empowers you to see your failures as opportunities for self-discovery. Again, Lin’s research points out that individuals who are generally curious and motivated are never focused on the attainment of something like a Nobel Prize; they are more fixated on their core values, whether they succeed or fail. 

I find Brooks’ concluding anecdote to be the most telling way in how to best embrace failure. “Once, a young laboratory assistant [to Thomas Edison] despaired at having performed experiment after experiment without results. ‘No results?’ Edison replied. ‘Why, man, I have gotten a lot of results! I know several thousand things that won’t work’.” Whether you’re looking to pass that seventh grade quiz, remaining with your boyfriend, or landing that dream job, Edison’s perspective on failure is spot-on! Fail forward, my friends, fail forward!

Friday, Jan. 7

As parents, we all struggle with how to best raise and assist our children with the many challenges that are all a part of growing up. Given the fact that newborns do not come with a ready-made instruction manual, we all struggle with how to best protect this utterly fragile and completely dependent human being who has entered our world and is now our very own responsibility. Way back in the days before the internet, there were very few resources that existed for parents as to how to successfully raise children. Dr. Benjamin Spock’s book, “Baby and Child Care” was the go-to child rearing manual that was published in 1946. Dr. T. Berry Brazelton’s child rearing book, “Touchpoints,” published in 1992, took over Dr. Spock’s book as the next best guide to raising a child. Once the internet became widely available, articles about child rearing have only grown in popularity and confusion. I find it somewhat perplexing (and humorous) that there are so many ideas and theories as to how best to raise our children, given the simple truth that we only want what is best for our kids. 

It was in this spirit that I came across Elizabeth Hoey’s poem, “The Helicopter Bunny,” which is a biting take on Margaret Wise Brown’s beloved children’s classic, “The Runaway Bunny,” satirizing how we struggle to raise our children. After reading Hoey’s poem, I was quickly reminded of the many parenting “styles” that have become (for better or worse) a part of the child rearing pantheon. While I tend to cringe a bit at categorizing parenting styles, I do find them telling in terms of the many different priorities that parents have now embraced in terms of how to best raise their child. 

Perhaps most familiar are those parents who can be described as the Snowplowing/Bull Dozing/Lawn Mowing types who seek to remove all obstacles from their child’s path so that they don’t experience pain, failure, or discomfort. Another type of parenting style, the Velcro Parents, are those parents who simply can’t let go of their child and find a multitude of ways to become overly involved in their own child’s life. The Tiger Parent refers to those adults who raise their child in a tough, disciplinarian manner, putting a premium on academics and extracurricular activities intended to give their kids an advantage in academics ahead of leisure time. In a juxtaposed manner, the Free-Range parent is the one who lets their child walk to school or a nearby playground all alone, or who lets their child take the subway to the skateboarding park by themselves, believing this builds independence and self-reliance. For a more exhaustive list of these types of parenting styles (and to check to see if you might be a snowplow parent yourself!), I urge you to read Nicole Lyn Pesce’s article, “How To Tell If You Are A Snowplow Parent.” 

While I will never tell a parent how to best raise their child, I do think back to my younger days when my parents’ style of child rearing might have been best described as “That’s not my job.” Indeed, my mom and dad loved my brothers and me unconditionally. However, when it came time for homework or anything else that involved school, they were quick to respond, “That’s not my job.” By hook or crook, we all managed to make it through our youths relatively unscarred and healthy. More enjoyable was their “not my job” policy when it came to summertime when we played outdoors all day long. They trusted the kindness of strangers to feed us lunch and relied on the street lamps to turn on at dusk, which was our signal that we had to be back home for dinner. As a parent, my “style” hardly resembled their child rearing efforts. And when I tell my kids how my parents raised me and my brothers, they collectively shake their heads and comment, “Why couldn’t you have been more like Mammy and Bumpa, Dad?”

Friday, Dec. 17

This week, I am not going to wax the prophetic nor will I ponder vexing issues. I am going straight back to my youth and recalling the one holiday TV show that defined this time of year for me. As a young boy, I absolutely loved and was fascinated with the 1964 classic holiday movie, “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” Whether it was the voice of Burl Ives or the animated puppeteering of characters like Yukon Cornelius and Hermey, this holiday film classic is firmly wedged into my aging brain. Often, I feel that the “Island of Misfit Toys” serves as a metaphor for what life is like in Middle School. Hopefully, you will have a chance to watch this beloved film this holiday season. For those who are fans of this film, click here for some little-known facts about this timeless classic and other Rankin-Bass films.

Friday, Dec. 10

I recently watched Peter Jackson’s amazing documentary “The Beatles: Get Back,” which chronicles the group’s 1969 sessions that culminated in the band’s final public performance. Having grown up with The Beatles as the soundtrack to my early years (I remember when my parents gave me, in 1964, a 45-rpm record that had “I Feel Fine” on the A-side and “She’s A Woman” on the B-side), I was transfixed in watching John, Paul, George, and Ringo come back to life right before my eyes. However, Jackson’s documentary allows the viewer to witness more than the making of music; one has the chance to see how creativity comes together (pun very much intended) from an insider’s point-of-view. 

In his Dec. 8, essay, “ ‘Improvise It, Man’. How To Make Magic Like The Beatles,” Jere Hester breaks down the creative process that The Beatles used in a manner that resonates and resembles the same type of creative process we try to bring into our Middle School classrooms. And while we are not trying to create the next generation of The Beatles at Seven Hills, we intentionally embrace the apparent “madness” that often results in true creativity, whether for a rock star or an adolescent. In his essay, Hester identifies eight lessons on creativity, “set to a Beatles soundtrack,” that stand as testaments to the importance of cultivating creativity in our everyday lives. While I won’t explicate each of Hester’s eight lessons, I will hone-in on those that I feel are so vital to infuse into a Middle School classroom. 

Set Audacious Goals: Paul McCartney tried to convince his bandmates in coming up with 14 new songs within two weeks, and to then record them live for a TV show. His proposal was not met with enthusiasm, as George Harrison temporarily left the band. However, setting daring and bold goals often “opens up new creative possibilities.” When McCartney shared this certainly “audacious” goal with his bandmates, none of them could have foreseen the epic and unforgettable performance on the rooftop of Apple Studios on January 30, 1969. 

Always Be Working: It is amazing to watch The Beatles come to the studio, day in and day out, ready to get to work. While their collective level of discipline hardly mirrors the exact type of “discipline” I like to see from our students, The Beatles show up, get to work, and actually get things done. One of my all-time favorite Beatles songs, “Get Back,” grew out of these daily work sessions. McCartney’s quip captures one of the essential ingredients of creativity: “To wander aimlessly is very un-swinging…Unhip.” Oftentimes, discipline and focus are required to fuel the creative process. 

The final lesson that strikes me as so appropriate in cultivating creativity for Middle Schoolers is not at all surprising: Creativity Can Be Repetitive and Boring, Until It’s Transcendent. In his film, Jackson captures the seemingly endless rehearsals of some songs that eventually became landmarks of what musical genius looks and sounds like. “Don’t Let Me Down” goes through countless iterations in the documentary, to the point where it becomes a bit weary and aimless. However, the repetition of practice, practice, practice resulted in the final recorded version of this song that still sends chills up and down my spine every time I listen to it. 

Creativity is amazing to witness and Peter Jackson’s documentary is such a compelling testament to the creativity that The Beatles possessed. However, I take comfort in knowing that even The Beatles had to put in “sweat equity” in order to produce songs that remain timeless and inspirational. While it might not sound all that sexy, achieving big, bold, and creative goals is only realized when one “does the work”; we have to show up, grind out the work day after day, and stick with things even when it feels boring and mundane. It is only when these things come together (pun very much intended) that creativity can emerge and stun those listening to something like a 1969 roof-top performance or a 2021 Middle School Instrumental Ensemble performance: “Can You Dig It?”

Friday, Dec. 3

This past Tuesday’s news of the tragic and deadly school shooting at Oxford High School in Michigan sent a chill down my spine. However, this chill is one that I have now become, sadly, quite used to. While there is nothing more tragic than the senseless death of a child, we continue to study, plan, and drill for ways to protect our students in the event of such a horrific event.

Like many schools across the country, we have adopted the protocols of ALICE drills: Alert, Lockdown, Inform, Counter, Evacuate. We continue to train and familiarize our faculty with the many permutations that might occur if an active shooter were to be on our school campus. And we work with our students to sensitively prepare them for how we will best handle such an event if it were to occur. While I understand and fully embrace the need for this type of training, I worry and wonder how these drills and trainings might affect our community.

It was in this spirit that I read Dana Goldstein’s recent New York Times article, “After Michigan Killings, Students Praised Shooter Drills. But Do They Really Work?” While statistics show that children are at greater risk for violence in their neighborhoods and homes, rather than in their schools, we understand the clear necessity to continually practice and refine these types of drills in school. However, I do wonder and worry about the cumulative emotional affect these types of drills have on our students. In her article, Goldstein explores this question and cites researchers who worry that these drills are “potentially traumatic,” especially for younger students. I also wonder and worry if these types of drills might desensitize our students to the potential violence and damage that an active shooter might bring to a school’s campus. Nonetheless, Goldstein notes that many students at Oxford High School felt that the ALICE drills were extremely helpful when one of its own students opened fire with a handgun: “I think the training is helpful…It saved a lot of students’ lives.”

What I value about the ALICE drills that we practice is the importance of empowering faculty and students with a sense agency; they can do something in the event of a frightening and potentially deadly situation. In the NYT article, Jaclyn Schildkraut, a professor of criminal justice at the State University of New York at Oswego, who studies school lockdown drills, notes that such emergency drills enable students and faculty to feel “more prepared and more empowered…It is better to have it and not need it, then need it and not have it.” More than anything else, we need to provide a safe and secure environment for all of our students, from the moment they arrive in the morning until they depart in the late afternoon. We will continue to revise and adjust our safety protocols as needed, knowing that the potential for danger, while quite small, is always a possibility.

However, when I became aware of Tuesday’s tragic shootings at Oxford High School, I once again felt scared and frustrated. Even though the students and faculty at Oxford High School put into place their ALICE training, it frightens me that this training was not enough. Four teenagers were dead and several others were left in serious or critical condition. And I continue to grow more and more frustrated, knowing that Tuesday’s event will not be the last in a long line of tragic school shootings. I am frustrated with the lack of will our politicians continue to display when it comes to creating reasonable gun laws that might prevent — or at least slow down — these sadly familiar headlines from making front page news.

Tuesday, Nov. 23

Friday, Nov. 19

The most watched TED talk of all time, the late Sir Ken Robinson’s 2006 “Do Schools Kill Creativity?”, continues to inform and guide my thinking when it comes to how best educate our children. In his talk, Robinson claims that “schools kill creativity” and argues that “we don’t grow into creativity, we grow out of it. Or rather we get educated out of it.” For Robinson, “creativity is as important as literacy, and we should afford it the same status.” While I have no argument with Robinson’s point, I realize that it is easy to say that we value creativity, but the real test is how and where it actually appears in a school’s curriculum and in a teacher’s classroom. With this in mind, I read Liane Gabora’s article, “What Creativity Really Is – and Why Schools Need It” with great interest. To truly incorporate creativity into the classroom requires teachers to move away from traditionally held perceptions of creativity that have often been negative and ill-suited for traditional classrooms: “Teachers often have biases against creative students, fearing that creativity in the classroom will be disruptive. They devalue creative personality attributes such as risk taking, impulsivity, and independence. They inhibit creativity by focusing on the reproduction of knowledge and obedience in class.” Simply put, to embrace creativity in the classroom, teachers need to put aside some of the more conventional or dated ideas of how classrooms function and welcome ways of thinking that will best prepare students for a rapidly changing world. Gabora’s definition of creativity is helpful to consider, as it sheds light on its importance in the classroom: “Specifically, creativity involves cognitive processes that transform one’s understanding of, or relationship to, the world… Creativity is the novelty generating component of cultural evolution.” History has shown that creative thinkers have spurred beauty, revolution, invention, and have challenged the status quo to change and adapt in ways that were previously unimagined and unseen. And we also know that creativity requires time to evolve, grow, and emerge in order to generate new ideas and ways of thinking. Prior to the 21st century (what I will call “the age of our grandparents”), the rate of change was much more manageable that it is now. In many ways, this earlier rate of change moved at a pace that allowed creativity – and creative individuals – to emerge in a more synchronous manner with this pace of change. However, Fei-Fei Li, the Head of the Stanford Artificial Intelligence Laboratory in California, notes that “We live in a mind-blowingly different world than our grandparents.” In a Nature.com article, “Tomorrow’s World,” Declan Butler notes that “Many things that society now takes for granted would have seemed like futuristic nonsense just a few decades ago. We can search across billions of pages, images, and videos on the web; mobile phones have become ubiquitous; billions of connected smart sensors monitor in real time everything from the state of the planet to our heartbeats, sleep and steps; and drones and satellites the size of shoeboxes roam the skies.” With this hugely accelerated increase in the rate of change, we simply can’t assume that creative thinkers are going to naturally emerge at the pace they did during “the age of our grandparents.” This is where I find Gabora’s article so interesting, as she notes that “in times of change we need to bump up creativity levels — to generate the innovative ideas that will keep us afloat.” Our children – and us – live in a high stimulation environment that requires them to process new stimuli at an astonishing rate, often not allowing them to go deep and think about new ideas and situations “from different perspectives, such that their ideas become more interconnected and their mental models of understanding become more integrated.” This idea of going deep allows individuals the time to create connections and associations between often complex and disparate ideas that can result in valuable advances and innovations. Fortunately, our Middle School teachers know that making and taking the time to go deep and develop the skills of critical thinking and problem solving will enable students to become more creative. Designing curriculum and activities that transcend disciplines and allow students to create connections spurs new ideas and excitement. And, perhaps most important, Gabora note that allowing students the time to “pose questions and challenges, and follow up with opportunities for solitude and reflection…provides time and space to foster the forging of new connections that is so vital to creativity.” From my perspective, these approaches toward teaching will allow our students to never grow out of being creative souls who will be able to embrace the dizzying rate of change with strength and courage.

Friday, Nov. 12

Mick Jagger said it best when he boldly confesses that he can’t get any satisfaction: “When I’m watchin’ my TV / and a man comes on and tells me / How white my shirts can be / But he can’t be a man ’cause he doesn’t smoke / The same cigarettes as me…”. Whether we care to admit it or not, we frequently worry too much about the opinions of others. What we say, wear, think, and feel are often run through the filter of communal acceptance. Middle School serves as that time in a child’s life when the lens of communal approval and acceptance is so narrowly and brutally focused. I often smile and quietly chuckle when I see students following trends of dress and behavior that are quite funny and amusing. This is when I have to remind myself that, as a seventh-grader, I painfully yearned for a pair of Chuck Taylor high-top Converse sneakers due to the ridiculously compelling reason that “all the cool kids are wearing them!” Wanting the approval and acceptance of others is a common trait of being human. Certainly, if TukTuk the Caveman hadn’t been accepted by his tribe, he would have ended up being expelled from his clan and left to his own devices to survive on the frozen and harsh tundra, alone and cold. Arthur Brooks’ recent article in The Atlantic, “No One Cares!,” sheds light on why worrying about the opinions of others is “often overblown and rarely worth fretting over.” Noting that it is normal, to a certain extent, to seek the approval of others, Brooks points out that this instinct is “woefully maladapted to modern life.” Understanding that social media is such a powerful reality in our current culture, the desire to seek the approval of others can now, literally and figuratively, blow-up on our phones and in our face: “today you might suffer acute anxiety that strangers online will ‘cancel’ you for an ill-considered remark, or passersby will snap a photo of a poor outfit choice and mock it on Instagram for all to see.” This is the exact concern and worry that I have long had with social media; it can be a debilitating reality that can wreak devastation for young adolescents. Not surprisingly, there is a diagnosable psychological condition that Brooks highlights that is directly applicable to this concern: allodoxaphobia – the irrational fear of opinions. Even if it doesn’t become a mental illness, Brooks notes that “worrying about the opinions of others can lower your basic competence in ordinary tasks, such as making decisions.” At its very worst, worrying about the opinions of others can lead to shame, where the individual feels worthless and not valued by others. When a Middle Schooler feels that they don’t “measure up” to the often unattainable and stereotyped standards of beauty and popularity, depression and anxiety often take over and create larger and more serious problems that are cause for grave concern. Brooks goes on to state that there are three things that we can strive to do to “care a good deal less” about the opinions of others. First, we need to remind ourselves that no one really cares about us: “Studies show that we consistently overestimate how much people think about us and our failings, leading us to undue inhibition and worse quality of life.” I find this refreshing to realize that when I am feeling self-conscious, those around me are most likely feeling the same way and aren’t actually paying attention to me! Brooks goes on to suggest that we need to “rebel” against the shame when we feel that we aren’t meeting the expectations of others. Indeed, Brooks notes that “Sometimes a bit of shame is healthy and warranted, such as when we say something hurtful to another person out of spite or impatience. But often it is frankly ridiculous, such as being ashamed for, say, accidentally leaving your fly unzipped.” We need to check those feelings of shame and realize that they are often creations of our own mind. Finally, Brooks urges us to simply stop judging others: “When we judge others, we acknowledge a belief that people can, in fact, legitimately judge one another; thus, it is an implicit acceptance of others’ judgment of you.” It is vital that we help ourselves, and our children, realize that judging others creates a vicious circle that ultimately places us at the merciful judgement of those whom we judge. Simply put, stop the judging! And while these three steps to caring less about the acceptance of others take time to master, they ultimately free and liberate us to lead more honest and authentic lives. And while Mick Jagger detailed the dilemma of listening to the opinions of others, I think the best answer to this predicament comes from the Cincinnati funk group, The Isley Brothers: “It’s your thing, do what you wanna do / I can’t tell you, who to sock it to.”

Friday, Nov. 8

Last week, our faculty gathered in the Middle School workroom to hold an informal baby shower for writing teacher Chris Caldemeyer to celebrate the impending birth of his first child. During this gathering, teachers shared with Chris parental advice and wisdom as to the do’s and don’ts of child-rearing; get sleep when you can, save now for college, let your baby sooth herself, invest in a diaper-genie, etc. I am happy to report that Mabel Caldemeyer arrived into this world on Nov. 1 and, by all reports, she and her parents are doing quite well, reveling in those blissful days of early parenthood. As we all know, parenthood comes with an amazing array of joys, struggles, and challenges. It was in this spirit that I came across a recent article in The Atlantic, “What Becoming a Parent Really Does to Your Happiness.” Accurately identifying that few choices in our lives are as important than whether or not we want have children, the author Paul Bloom notes that, “Some of the most prominent scholars in the field have argued that if you want to be happy, it’s best to be childless. Others have pushed back, pointing out that a lot depends on who you are and where you live. But a bigger question is also at play: What if the rewards of having children are different from, and deeper than, happiness?” I appreciate this question, as the act of parenting, on its face, does not always reap rewards that make one, on the surface, happy. Bloom notes a 2004 study by Daniel Kahneman, the well-known psychologist and economist whose studies in behavioral economics garnered him the 2002 Nobel Memorial Prize in Economic Sciences. In the study, Kahneman and his colleagues asked 900 employed women to share how they felt, at the end of their day, about each and every activity that they performed and how happy they were when they did these activities. Kahneman discovered that these women recalled that being with their children was less enjoyable than the other many activities they engaged in during their day (e.g. watching TV, shopping, working, or preparing food). From a purely objective point of view, it is a fair question to consider: Would we have happier lives and relationships had we chosen not to have kids? On the other hand, I know that you, like me, feel that parenthood continues to be, without question, one of the single best experiences of my life. In his article, Bloom dives deeper into understanding how we, as parents, are able to remain happy as parents, given the emotional, financial, marital, and personal tolls that parenthood collectively takes on us. Bloom poses the idea that parenthood has often less to do with the simple sense of happiness and more to do with deeper and more profound theories and concepts. The feeling of attachment that one experiences with a child is extremely powerful and profound. Bloom notes that the “attachment we have to our child can supersede an overall decrease in our quality of life, and so the love we usually have toward our children means that our choice to bring them into existence has value above and beyond whatever effect they have on our happiness.” Whether we have birthed or adopted a child, the mere fact that we have brought our child into existence as a human being and are responsible for their overall well-being is a deeply rooted emotion that overrides the mere concept of happiness. Bloom then goes on to examine what it is that surpasses this idea of happiness that makes parenthood so powerful and affirming. “I’m talking about something deeper, having to do with satisfaction, purpose, and meaning. It’s not just me. When you ask people about their life’s meaning and purpose, parents say that their lives have more meaning than those of nonparents.” I know that as parents, we get Bloom’s point; there is something so utterly profound and deep about being a parent that is nothing more (and nothing less) than a mixture of emotions and experiences that defy logic and explanation. We can all recall stories about the horrors and frights we have all had in raising our children, along with the utter beauty and ecstasy in watching our children grow. And we all know that deep-seated fear that accompanies being a parent; how could we survive if we ever lost our child? Indeed, attachment and an emotion that is deeper than mere happiness and love are all a part of being a parent. Perhaps the author Zadie Smith, as Bloom notes, captures what parenthood is all about. In her 2013 essay, “Joy,” Smith poignantly describes what this type of happiness truly is, realizing that one’s child “is a pleasure, though mostly she is a joy, which means in fact she gives us not much pleasure at all, but rather that strange mixture of terror, pain, and delight that I have come to recognize as joy.” I will keep this in mind when I talk with my now grown daughters over this weekend, knowing that hearing them ask me for money is just as joyful as when they say to me, “Dad, I love you.”  Hug your kids tightly…

Friday, Oct. 29

Tonight’s seventh- and eighth-grade dance is one of those events that I have a love-hate relationship with, yet I know how important it is for the healthy development of our students. I love this event, as it gives our students the chance to try something very new and exciting; putting one’s self out there in a way that has never previously occurred. Some boys will wear deodorant and cologne for the first time in their lives, smelling like a bottle of Axe as they walk by. Some girls will wear dresses and high heels that challenge their physical abilities to walk in a normal and comfortable manner. And all students will gather in a hot and clammy room to yell above the din of the DJ’s music, urging/daring each other to dance. However, there are really only two times when any actual dancing occurs. The first type of dancing takes place when a currently popular song blasts through the speakers, with its own well-rehearsed moves and steps (that were only previously practiced in the safety of one’s locked bedroom). In the safety of a group, students feel comfortable enough to take the risk of “dancing” in front of their peers. Do they look foolish and silly? Of course. Are they having fun and enjoying themselves? Indeed. However, the second and more cringe-worthy type of dance usually occurs toward the end of the night, when the traditional “slow dance” song is announced and makes its way through the air that is so very thick with puberty and awkwardness. Only the most daring students will approach another student and take the risk in asking them to dance. What ensues is both painful and poignant. As if imitating Boris Karloff’s portrayal of The Monster from the 1931 movie “Frankenstein,” both dance partners sway back-and-forth in a knee-locked-arms-extended-reach, staring down at their respective pairs of feet, waiting for the moment when this “dance” can end. I cringe at my own “slow dance” experience with Sarah Parton in 1974 when we both struggled in trying to determine when the slow part of “Stairway to Heaven” had officially ended and we could break free and run back to the safety of our friends who were staring at us and noting our painful dance steps. Broken down in this manner, a Middle School dance is morass of awkwardness where mistakes happen that are often painful to witness. However, it is precisely in these moments where young adolescents learn and grow. In her 2019 article “Why Is Middle School So Hard For So Many People?” Alia Wong accurately examines the importance of Middle School and notes that “Tweenhood is torturous, and tending to those in the midst of it can be excruciating and embarrassing: Tweens will make lots of mistakes, and they’ll learn from them, and still make more mistakes after that. Yet those mistakes — and the growth that follows — are precisely what give middle school its meaning.” As we tend to those in the midst of this important period in their development, we need to allow a safe and supportive environment for these important mistakes to unfold, in all their painful glory. While there are certainly mistakes that we cannot allow to simply unfold (e.g. physical or emotional abuse), we must, at times, stand back and let Middle Schoolers work through the more foundational mistakes that have long been a hallmark of healthy adolescent development. Knowing that the growth that follows these mistakes leads to the development of strong, healthy, and resilient young adults, we must support and empathize with our children at this point in their lives. This is what Middle School needs to be; a safe place where messiness is embraced and supported in a kind, respectful, and healthy manner. And even though I know that I weathered the brutal mistakes of my own adolescence with the support of adults, my heart still pounds a bit faster and my palms become a bit sweatier whenever I hear Jimmy Page’s opening guitar notes and Robert Plant then reminding me that “There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold…” Rock on…

Friday, Oct. 22

I need to share with you my growing concern with the ways in which our students are using cellphones and social media, both at school and off-campus. As you hopefully know, we have clear rules about student use of cellphones when on campus: all cellphones must remain in student backpacks at all times. As you can guess, students have a very difficult time following this rule. I announced to students during the past Monday’s Middle School assembly that we are monitoring their ability to adhere to this rule between Oct. 18 and Nov. 5. If we feel that they can’t follow this rule, we will institute a new rule starting on Nov. 8: all cellphones need to be turned in to advisors at the start of the day and will be kept in a locked box until the end of the day, at which time students can then retrieve their device. While this might sound a bit draconian, I feel that we are now at a point in our culture where unfettered access to cellphones and social media is the root cause for so many problems which our students are facing. If you do an internet search on the phrase “cellphone addiction,” you will be met with more than 90 million results that all point to a simple truth; cellphones, much like alcohol, nicotine, and gambling, produce dopamine. We all know that dopamine, the “feel-good” neurotransmitter, is strongly associated with pleasure and reward. In moderation, access to social media can be fine, as dopamine levels don’t lead to addictive behaviors. However, when we have close to 24/7 access to cellphones and social media, addiction becomes real and problematic. I urge you to listen to any of Simon Sinek’s talks about social media addiction. Sinek, a British author and inspirational speaker, has studied the addictive qualities and effects of social media and firmly believes that social media contributes heavily to depression and anxiety for those who are unable to balance their use of social media. For me, those “who are unable to balance their use of social media” are the young, immature, and naturally impulsive adolescents who have ready access to cellphones. I see, on a daily basis, the addictive pull and often disturbing results that social media has for our students. We all know that Middle Schoolers are constantly seeking validation for who they are. Before cellphones, we had to find this validation through our personal interactions with others. This meant having difficult conversations with our peers that often resulted in arguments and disagreements. However, these arguments had a very limited shelf-life; harsh words may have been said and these conversations usually faded from our young minds within a day or so and we moved on. Along with this, we had to work hard to establish real friendships. However, once we had created these friendships, we knew that we had a positive and stable network of support that relied on face-to-face interactions for validation. Enter social media, and the concept of validation is now something completely different. When you have arguments via social media, what you say and post has an indefinite shelf life that lasts your entire school career. When you are looking for friendships, you are constantly looking for likes and follows to affirm that you have friends. In an instant, you can have hundreds of friends, simply because they liked or followed you! In a similar manner, you also fear the possibility that you aren’t receiving likes and follows and spend countless hours checking your posts for validation, hoping that you still have hundreds of friends. In one of Sinek’s talks, he notes that even having a cellphone in your hand creates an imbalance that is both soothing and distracting at the same time: you feel connected with your online life (FOMO – Fear Of Missing Out), but are distracted from the life that is going on all around you. Knowing that cellphone use is never going to go away in our culture, we can still strive to limit the ways in which young adolescents (and adults) use this technology. Just as we would not give our children access to alcohol, we similarly need to have restrictions on giving our children access to cellphones and social media, as the addictive potentials of both alcohol and cellphones can wreak havoc on young and immature brains. I do know that there are families who have rules that require all cellphones to be placed in a “cellphone jail” during specified times of the day: mealtimes, bedtimes, family times, etc. By doing so, families are able to validate the importance of relationships and support that serve to raise happy and confident human beings. If we, as a school, feel that the best place for a cellphone is in a locked and secure area when students are in school, I hope that you will understand our desire to validate the importance of being present and engaged during this important stage of our students’ development.

Friday, Oct. 15

In my Oct. 1 remarks for this column, I shared my thinking as to what good teaching is and noted that the main determinant to what good teaching looks like is the teacher: “Empowering teachers to work ‘child by child and respond to their particular needs by establishing honest and real personal connections has always been the truth and answer to ‘What is Good Teaching?’” While very few of us would argue differently, examining what a teacher actually does in the classroom is what separates a good teacher from one who is mediocre. As both an educator and administrator, I am keenly interested in understanding and helping teachers be the best they can be. Recently, a colleague of mine shared with me an article about Mike Rose, one of America’s leading educational reformers who passed away on Aug.15, 2021. Rose wrote many books on literacy and the struggles of the working class to gain educational opportunities for success in our country. In one of last books, “Why School? Reclaiming Education for All of Us,” Rose examined what it is that successful teachers need to do in the classroom to bring out the best in students. In the Oct. 9, 2009 edition of Education Week, Rose shared his thoughts in a candid discussion that were gleaned from his 30 years of working with teachers across America in a wide variety of school systems. Rose identified three qualities that successful teachers possessed and routinely practiced. First, and not surprisingly, teachers need to be knowledgeable about their respective subject matter and to remain current with new insights and understandings. The second quality Rose identified is that a teacher must be resourceful, making use of a wide-variety of materials that they have collected over their years of teaching. Diving a bit deeper into this quality, Rose notes that there is a “performative” element to this type of resourcefulness: “You’ve seen this when you watch good teachers — they just seem to know what metaphor or what analogy to use to illustrate something, or when a kid gets stuck, they have another way to come at a question. There’s a resourcefulness of technique and approach.” Rose’s third quality for successful teaching is the ability to create a safe and respectful space for students: “You could tell that the students in that classroom felt free to venture an idea, or free to go down a road and see where a train of thought would take them. There’s a sense of physical, emotional, and intellectual safety and respect that emerged in these rooms.” Rose clearly identifies what I feel to be the crux of what good teaching is all about; allowing a child to feel “safe” to freely explore an idea without fear of alienation, shame, or embarrassment in the classroom. “The teacher who can compel and listen to a student in a supportive and non-judgmental manner, encouraging them to dive deeper, who you can tell are really listening to you, and they’re following your train of thought, and they ask questions to clarify, to make sure they understand what you’re saying. If they don’t think an idea’s a good one, they won’t just say, ‘Oh, that’s awful.’ They’ll say, ‘Why don’t you think about it this way?’” Rose’s description of this approach to education is what I am always striving for, both personally and for our Middle School teachers. Knowing that our students are at one of the most vulnerable and uncertain stages in their social and emotional development, we must strive for nothing less than having teachers who create those safe and respectful spaces where Middle Schoolers not only feel comfortable and safe, but they thrive! 

Wednesday, October 6

We all do it. We all make this comment, often without thinking. Admit it, at some point, you have uttered these four fateful words to your Middle Schooler: “How was school today?” If we are lucky, we get a response that resembles something like “OK.” More often than not, we are lucky enough to get a response that sounds more like a bear being poked. When I see what a day in the life of a Middle Schooler looks like, I am amazed, exhausted, pained, thrilled, and (occasionally) embarrassed in a cringe-worthy manner. At this age in their development, Middle Schoolers are experiencing tremendous physical and neurological growth. In her article, “How Parents Can Help Middle Schoolers Build Confidence and Character,” Deborah Kris notes that Middle Schoolers “constantly question whether they are good enough, smart enough, attractive enough or athletic enough.” Knowing this, it is no wonder that these young adolescents so often balk when asked how they are “feeling” about school. As parents, we all want to relate and connect with our children, but the ability to do so in authentic and meaningful ways becomes more and more difficult, often to the point of frustration. In her article, Kris points out one of the pitfalls that many parents of Middle Schoolers make in their attempts to connect with their child, “In an attempt to be empathetic, parents sometimes make the mistake of ‘interviewing for pain or mining for misery’…This means asking a leading question: ‘Were the kids mean to you again today? Is that kid still poking you with a pencil? Are people still saying nasty things on group chats?’… If parents constantly zero in on the negative, it doesn’t honor children’s full experience – and it encourages them to focus on pain points that might be out of their control.” I admit that when I was a Middle School parent to my three daughters, I often fell into this habit, dwelling on the negative parts of their respective days. “Mining for misery” can only have one result that hardly ever results in anything positive for one’s child. As caring parents, we all yearn for information that might offer us a glimpse into our child’s life. Kris offers another way to gain access to what is going on in our child’s life, “Instead, try asking open questions such as, Who did you have an interesting conversation with today? Or, Did your teachers do anything silly?” Another way to connect with your child in an attempt to penetrate the protective shield that Middle Schoolers so often construct is to empathize with your child at this stage in their life. Knowing that we were all once Middle Schoolers, Kris suggests that we can share a story from your own life, “such as a moment when you felt brave, discouraged, or confused. You will not reach kids this age unless the information is relevant and pertains to their life. Otherwise, it will not go into long-term memory.” It was not until I shared an extremely embarrassing photo of my 13-year-old self with my daughters that they began to see how painfully awkward I was when I was their age. Daring to be vulnerable with your child by sharing your own struggles, failures, and triumphs can often create that sense of relevance and meaning that empowers a Middle Schooler to open up and respond to you with more than a grunt. I challenge you to dig up that old picture from your Middle School days and share it with your Middle Schooler at some point during this Fall Break. At the very least, you’ll get a laugh!

Friday, October 1

The most important factor in determining the success of a child’s education is the teacher. Study after study has long validated the truth that it is the teacher who has the greatest influence on the success of a student. And while we all nod our heads and accept this fact, a seemingly elusive question continues to persists, from year to year: “what is good teaching?” Ever since starting my teaching career in the fall of 1981, I recall attending countless workshops and conferences, reading numerous articles and books, and receiving annual critiques and evaluations about my own efforts in the classroom, all designed to answer this question. While much has changed in how and what we teach, I have long felt that there is an essential truth that appropriately answers the question, “what is good teaching?” You can imagine my surprise and anticipation when I came across Kristina Rizga’s article in The Atlantic, “What is Good Teaching?” which is a part of The Atlantic’s “On Teaching” series that focuses on “the wisdom of veteran teachers.” Rizga hones in on the wisdom of a particular veteran teacher, Renee Moore. Moore has taught for many, many years at Broad Street High School in the rural town of Shelby in the Mississippi Delta. When asked this question, Moore commented that, “what matters the most is building a personal connection with your students, and then it’s the daily commitment to bringing in well-considered, purposeful practices and working child by child.” It is that phrase, “working child by child” that resonates so strongly when I consider the question, “what is good teaching?” Working “child by child” posits, at the center, the child as the essential component of what “good teaching” is and what “good teaching” looks like. I realize that this might sound a bit simplistic and obvious, but far too many educational movements that have been aimed at improving education have often failed to put this truth front-and-center. Consider the 2002 No Child Left Behind Act that essentially focused on improved test scores. In 2015, the successor to No Child Left Behind became the Every Student Succeeds Act, which modified some of the testing policies of NCLB and attempted to provide equal opportunities for disadvantaged students. While well-intentioned, Rizga notes that these educational movements, from the perspective of veteran teachers, resulted in “frequent, disruptive interventions…and curriculum that largely prioritizes teaching low-level skills through test prep.” I realize that there are some obvious changes that could vastly improve how we, as a country, strive to provide quality education for all students. Greater funding for all schools, especially those that have been historically underfunded (e.g. inner city schools) is a good place to start. Attracting talented, smart individuals through more competitive salaries is another obvious way to improve the profession and appeal of teaching in our country. However, empowering teachers to work “child by child” and respond to their particular needs by establishing honest and real personal connections has always been the truth and answer to “what is good teaching?” I am so grateful to work with teachers in a school that has long realized this truth and strives to practice it on a daily basis. Hopefully, you have realized this essential ingredient in your own child’s experiences at Seven Hills. As a division, my colleagues and I understand that part of our job is always striving to get better at what we do in the classroom. We are always examining best practices and exploring pedagogical approaches that work best for Middle School students. However, as we grow, learn, and get better at what we do as educators, the words that Renee Moore voiced are, from my perspective, the best answer to what good teaching truly is: “working child by child.”

Friday, September 24

These past few days have stirred in me a sense of concern as I read the news and watch videos of disasters (both real and looming) that seem to be endless and foreboding. Migration, climate change, political unrest, etc. are words and phrases that feel practically engraved in the front pages of newspapers and magazines (both real and virtual). It was with this mindset that I came across Arthur Brooks article in The Atlantic, “The Difference Between Hope and Optimism.”  Brooks dissects these two words, hope and optimism, in a manner that gives the reader a sense of agency in a world that seems, at times, dire and doomed. Noting that people often tend to see these two words as synonyms, Brooks makes the point that this is hardly the case by citing a 2004 paper written by two psychologists that appeared in the Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology: In this paper, the two psychologists “determined that hope focuses more directly on the personal attainment of specific goals, whereas optimism focuses more broadly on the expected quality of future outcomes in general.” In other words, Brooks notes, “optimism is the belief that things will turn out all right; hope makes no such assumption but is a conviction that one can act to make things better in some way.” For me, this fundamental difference between optimism and hope offers a positive way to view the often-impending challenges that appear to be gathering on the horizon. Brooks offers three ways to increase our hope for a better life and future at this point in our history. The first step is to “Imagine a better future and detail what makes it so… Rather than basking in the glow of a fictitious city and leaving it at that, make a list of the specific elements that will have improved; for example, more affordable housing, better public policy and regulation, or more attention to substance abuse and mental health needs.” Brooks’ second step is to “Envision yourself taking action.” This next step calls for imagining the possibility of taking action: “envision yourself volunteering at a soup kitchen one day a week, advocating for better policies in your city’s government, or making the plight of people experiencing homelessness more visible in your community.” Seeing yourself as taking action gives one a real sense of what is possible, even on a small scale. Obviously, the third step is taking action oneself. Even though it may feel small in light of the bigger picture, taking action “will change your heart and perhaps infect the hearts of others, especially when they see the effect that practicing hope and love has on you.” What I love about Brooks’ article is the way he breaks down the seemingly overwhelming challenges that we face into hopeful ways of making a difference. Brooks’ final paragraph appropriately and emotionally turns to the gentle but powerful words of Mother Teresa who serves to best summarize Brooks’ message: “Don’t look for big things, just do small things with great love.” Doing small things, with a sense of care and compassion, has always offered this sense of hope through the idea that advocacy and agency are often the cure for hopelessness and despair. As educators, we strive to help our students see themselves as having a sense of agency and control over their lives. I feel that now, more than any time in my past 35 years of working with children in educational settings, developing a sense of self-advocacy is crucial to the future of our world. When students feel that they can make a difference, no matter how small that effort might be, they learn to develop a sense of hope when facing challenges, no matter how big or small.  As adults, we can model this type of behavior, knowing that our actions are always being watched by our children. I urge all of us to take action at some point in the days to come; find a small thing that you can do.  Much like the practice of kindness, taking action is always possible. I end this week’s reflections with the same words from The Dalai Lama that I ended last week’s reflections with: “Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.”

Friday, September 17

As many of you hopefully know, there are three words that we attempt to use to guide the overall tone and atmosphere of our Middle School community: true, kind, and necessary. While this three-word mantra rolls effortlessly off my tongue, I do have to pause and realize that what we are asking of all our Middle School community to understand and practice takes work; often, it takes very hard work. Some psychological studies tout that one can affect behavioral changes in 21 days! I take strong issue with this, as anyone who has tried to change a personal habit knows that it takes continued, regular, and ongoing practice to make substantial change in one’s behavior. Earlier this week, a sixth-grade student came up to me and asked a very simple and straight-forward question: “Mr. Waskowitz, which word is the most important to you: true, kind, or necessary?” After a pause that was a bit longer than I intended, I replied, “kind, I really think that being kind is the most important word for me.” The student smiled and simply turned his back and walked away. This brief conversation has lingered in my mind these past few days. Cultivating a sense of kindness in one’s behaviors take conscious work and effort and doesn’t always come naturally. For me, trying to meditate on a daily basis, focusing on the idea of kindness, has helped in my attempts to weave this behavior into my daily waking hours. While I am far from perfect in bringing kindness into all that I do and say, I am trying…really hard…to be kind to all who cross my path in a given day. I was pleased to come across a meditation app, Ten Percent Happier, which helps one cultivate the practice of meditation, no matter where one is in terms of ability. Of special interest is the “Ted Lasso Challenge” that one can sign-up for, using the Ten Percent Happier app. As noted on its website, this free five-day challenge focuses on Ted Lasso, the main character in the hit Apple TV+ series of the same name. For those who aren’t familiar with this series, Ted Lasso “is a football coach (or a soccer coach, to Americans) who treats his team — and his coworkers — with a relentlessly optimistic brand of kindness.” What I find to be so interesting is that the brand of kindness that Ted Lasso displays is something known as radical kindness. This type of kindness differs from the more common idea of kindness that we usually think of as simply being nice. In her popular book, “Radical Kindness: The Life-Changing Power of Giving and Receiving,” Angela Santomero carefully defines and examines radical kindness: “But what do we mean by radical kindness? Radical kindness means rooting all you say and do in kindness, being unconditionally kind all the time, to everyone. It means going beyond situational niceness or merely ‘doing the right thing’ and, instead, living from a place of compassion.” Creating this type of kindness does take practice, but it ultimately empowers the practitioner to assume “the best of everyone — heart-seeing them — and then acting toward them with compassion, patience, and humility. It means infusing what we think, say, and do throughout the day with warmth, understanding, and care. It means treating everyone — including ourselves! — as important, as if they matter in the world. And yes, that means everyone.” I am fully cognizant of the fact that Middle Schoolers often struggle with impulsivity and will do and say things that are hardly true, hardly kind, and occasionally quite unnecessary. However, I am most confident that modeling kindness, of any sort, is always a step in the right direction. In closing, I end this week’s reflection with the well-known words of His Holiness The Dalai Lama, “Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.”

Friday, September 10

We all remember where we were on September 11, 2001. And 20 years later, we are all at different places and points in our respective lives as September 11, 2021 comes into view. I still find it hard to believe that all of our Middle School students were not alive when the many tragedies unfolded on this sad day in America. While I firmly believe that it is important for our students to know about the events that occurred on September 11, 2001, I also feel that we are at a point in our history where we need to question how we understand and teach students about this tragic day. In his New York Times opinion article, “Is 9/11 a Day, or Is It an Era?”, James Poniewozik considers this question from the way television has treated 9/11 during the past two decades. Poniewozik states that “For 20 years, the refrain has been: Remember, remember, remember. Memory is so ingrained in the language of Sept. 11 — ‘Never forget’ — as to imply that it is obligatory, and sufficient, for future generations merely to remember by revisiting the narrative and imagery of one terrible day, rather than to connect it to the years of history that followed.” I am cognizant of the fact that 9/11 still invokes deep sadness and despair for those who were intimately connected with these tragedies. One of my closest childhood friends, Scott O’Brien, died in one of the twin towers on this day and I still shudder with sadness when I recall our times together, growing up in New Britain, CT. Yet, with the passage of these past 20 years, I feel that we can now begin to look at 9/11 through the lens of history and pose difficult and painful questions. Poniewozik raises this issue with a simple but complex question: “But is Sept. 11 simply a day, or is it an era? Was it the beginning of something or a continuation? You can divide most of the anniversary specials between those that focus closely on the day that the towers fell and those that pull back, way back, to look at what emerged from the dust.” And this, I feel, is the gift of history: working hard to create connections by examining these terror attacks as “part of a larger historical era.” Is it too soon to attempt such an understanding of what 9/11 means in the context of our recent history as a nation? Indeed, many of those directly affected by this tragedy have not been able to heal from the wounds (both physical and emotional) that they received 20 years ago. With this in mind, I still feel that we need to re-examine how we perceive September 11, 2001.The often-provocative filmmaker, Spike Lee, attempts such an understanding in his just released HBO four-part series, “NYC Epicenters: 9/11-2021½.” Poniewozik notes of Lee’s film that, “It works backward, starting from the COVID-19 pandemic and moving — through Black Lives Matter, the 2016 and 2020 elections and more — to its starting point. In Lee’s telling, Sept. 11 is not just a matter of terrorism but also the opening act to decades of calamity and uproar.” While viewers might take issue with the ways in which Lee connects recent events, I respect the fact that he is doing what we strive to instill in our Middle School students: finding ways to personalize one’s understanding of facts and figures in order to develop opinions and ideas that personally matter to you. Such an approach to learning is, I feel, the ultimate goal of education. While such efforts are difficult, messy, and often uncomfortable, they empower students to be independent thinkers who feel a sense of autonomy and agency as they mature into the adults we all want them to become. I look with wonder and excitement in the hopes that I will be around to see who our current Middle Schoolers have become on September 11, 2041.

friday, September 2

Since I arrived at Seven Hills 13 years ago, I have always taken part in the Adventure Treks trip to Pisgah National Forest. To say the least, this year’s four-day excursion presented our 8th grade students and faculty with challenges that no one could have expected, thanks in large part to Hurricane Ida. While Ida had been downgraded to a tropical storm when it hit Pisgah, the torrential rains and high winds created challenges that resulted in wet and sloppy conditions and unexpected changes in plans. What amazed me more than anything else, however, was the resilient spirit and optimism of our students and faculty. Whether it was sleeping in wet clothes, hiking up challenging trails with horizontally-driven rain, or eating oatmeal out of a bowl that was quickly filling with rain water, our students pushed through these conditions with a sense of zeal and humor that I have rarely before witnessed. This trip, much like the past two school years, presented unforeseen obstacles that demanded an either-or response; either we learn to deal with these obstacles in positive ways or we give in to our fears and give up. Successfully dealing with obstacles in a positive manner, better known as “resilience,” is one of the essential goals in educating Middle School students. In his New York Times article, “The Secret to Raising a Resilient Kid,” Erik Vance notes that “resiliency is something that can be fostered, nurtured and developed in children from a very young age.” Vance notes that there are four important elements that form the bedrock in fostering resiliency for children. Building a stable and safe home-base for children is crucial “before they can take risks and learn to bounce back. If a child skins her elbow falling off a bike, the best way to help her get back on is to make sure she knows she’s loved no matter what.” Secondly, Vance points out that modeling appropriate behaviors in times of crisis, as adults, provides a model for kids from which to learn how to regulate their own behaviors. As we all know, kids are always watching us for telling signs and clues. The third important ingredient Vance cites in teaching resilience is taking advantage of “the small disappointments or frustrating moments that truly build resilience.” While staying warm in a driving downpour is clearly a frustrating moment, it is important for us to help children learn to calmly deal with the smaller obstacles that are bound to come their way, such as an unexpected poor grade, a close loss in an athletic context, or shifting friendships. Finally, helping kids stretch themselves and take on greater challenges on their own tends to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. When a child can independently take on a challenge on their own, risking success or failure, confidence and self-reliance can only grow stronger! These ingredients of building safe foundations, modeling positive and healthy behaviors, facing the challenges of everyday life, and allowing kids to thrive on their own are what we, as a Middle School community, need to bake into our students’ lives. Whether in the classroom, on a camping trip, or at the dining room table, we all need to do our part in fostering resiliency in our students and children.

Friday, August 27 

One of my overriding concerns about the pandemic (aside from the health and safety of our students and faculty), has been the “lessons” we have and will learn from teaching in ways that have been impacted by the COVID virus. While I am thrilled that we are back on campus and are learning with each other, some of the important safety protocols that we observed last year are still with us as we start this year. It was in this spirit that I read with great interest the August 16th PBS News Hour article, “What Science Tells Us About Improving Middle School.” Most obviously, one of the lessons that we need to learn from the pandemic is that creating connections matter for Middle Schoolers. As we all know, young adolescents yearn for having connections with their peers while, at the same time, creating a sense of independence from the adults in their lives (especially from their parents!). However, we also know that these adolescents care about what adults (especially their teachers) think as well as their desire to be taken seriously in the belief that their opinions matter. In her article, Kelly Field notes that schools “should capitalize on kids’ interest in their peers…through peer-assisted and cooperative learning… [as] activating positive peer influence is really important.” Another obvious lesson that we need to bake into Middle School programming is giving students a sense of agency and “voice” in the work they are collectively involved in: “Kids have deeper cognitive conversations when they’re with their friends than when they’re not.” Creating opportunities in our programming for students to explore project-based projects that empower them as both learner and teacher is vital at this stage in their development. One of the most obvious lessons that we have learned from the pandemic is that Middle Schools need to “take advantage of the ‘sensitive period’ for social and emotional learning, setting aside time to teach students the skills and mindsets that will help them succeed in high school and beyond…” Our ongoing research and teaching of important social skills – such as self-management, social awareness, and responsible decision-making – are vital to our students’ overall development at this stage in their lives. I am heartened to know that our Middle School has long made the efforts to incorporate these three recent “lessons” from the pandemic into our overall programming: allowing students to create connections with their peers, providing them with the opportunities to discover their own independence and sense of agency, and helping them learn the important social and emotional skills that are crucial for healthy development, both now and in the years to come. Just like Middle School kids, we continue to grow, develop, and get better at what we do; giving our students the very best experiences during these important years.

Friday, May 28

At this point in the year, I begin to think about the words I want to share with our eighth-graders at the Closing Ceremony, an event that officially marks the end of their Middle School years and bracingly confronts them with the fact that they are now Upper School students. While it would be all too easy to wax about the challenges that the pandemic has created for students, I always feel the need to remind these soon to be Upper School students that they have the agency to affect their futures, even though they often feel powerless at this stage in their lives to do so. Couple this sense of ineffectiveness with the power of social media and you have the recipe for creating very self-centered individuals who have the ability to live in their own worlds, curating what they want to see, hear, and experience. While I don’t want to sound like that “old man on the porch yelling at the kids to get off my lawn!,” I do feel a growing sense of concern and worry with the fixation of self over what is best for the common good. I read with great interest the commencement speech delivered by former Washington Post executive editor Martin Baron to the graduates of Suffolk University on May 22. In his speech, Baron charged these graduates with the responsibility of restoring the roles that institutions have (or had) in serving and strengthening the common good for all citizens. Baron noted that some institutions continue to benefit and promote important behaviors and values: during the pandemic, the medical system gained trust and we realized the value in trying to preserve small businesses to support the hopes and dreams of millions of Americans. However, Baron also notes that while some institutions have remained strong, “Many institutions have failed the public, and those failings are fresh in our minds: Abuses by police. Court systems that treat the powerful gently and the weak harshly. Technology companies that accumulate revenue but evade responsibility. Financial speculators who escape accountability when their gambles bring an economy to its knees. A press that acts as if it knows all the answers before it has gone seeking them. Politics that is more lousy performance art than serious problem-solving.” Baron then addressed his young audience with the following challenge: “We can either give up on institutions that betray our values, or we can seek to repair them.” And while many of our institutions have greatly suffered these past few years, I would urge our eighth-grade students to think of the institutions that have truly provided them with powerful values and ethics. Without question, the institution of family (no matter how one might define it) continues to provide a source of love and belonging. I would then argue that educational institutions like Seven Hills have instilled the value of lifelong learning and a commitment to critical thinking. Helping students find purpose and meaning outside of themselves empowers them to understand their “obligations and responsibilities, our privileges and benefits, our purposes and connections.” For me, this is the true meaning and value of institutions like Seven Hills, as echoed in our Mission Statement: “Seven Hills engages our students’ hearts and minds, challenging them to develop their unique abilities and preparing each for a meaningful role in a rapidly changing world.” And while they might not have yet realized the power of this institution, I remain confident that, at some point in their near futures, they will. Now, if they could just get off my lawn!

Friday, may 21

I find myself in a slightly reminiscent mood these days, noting that our eighth-graders are about to leave their Middle School home. While I am not in an actual puddle of tears over this reality, I realize that these young adults are, in many ways, clueless as to the joys of what it means to be at this stage in their respective lives. Aside from the sheer physical and social awkwardness of being an eighth-grader, I only wish I could capture these students’ innocence, optimism, and how truly unjaded they are at this very moment in their lives. While they may feign a sense of social maturity, they don’t yet know enough to adopt the smugness of an 18-year old. As if to reinforce this point, I recently watched a wonderful 9-minute video “H.A.G.S. (Have a Good Summer)” produced by young filmmaker Sean Wang. Wang notes that the intent of this film is to “revisit a more innocent time in my life: middle school in Fremont, California. Flipping through my yearbook made me curious about how old friends who signed H.A.G.S. (Have A Good Summer) were handling adulthood and the uncertainty about the future — so I decided to call them and find out.” Wang’s video reveals the time-worn truth about growing older; “you don’t have any perspective on how quickly your life moves…until after it has passed you by.” In speaking with some of his old eighth-grade friends, Wang reveals their recollections of how bold, happy, daring, and naïve they were at the age of 14. One of his friends notes that he wrote in his eighth-grade yearbook, “Being an eighth-grader means taking on a whole new responsibility. I’m a boss!” I literally swoon when I think about this eighth-grader’s sense of invincibility. For me, this is what it means to work with Middle Schoolers. We want to foster their hopes and dreams, empowering them to believe that they can do anything and everything. However, we also know that there will come a day when they will realize that they can’t change the world by themselves; it takes hard work, long hours, and many (many) tears to become a responsible and happy adult. This is not to say that being a 14-year old is easy work; I am fully aware that many children at this stage in their development are faced with truly difficult social and emotional issues. I firmly believe that when I was an eighth-grader during the 1972-73 school year, I was not facing powerful forces that had the ability to truly disrupt the foundations of my world (read social media here). However, it is at this point in the school year when I have to willfully remind myself of the pure joy of what it means to be a Middle Schooler. They are stuck in an in-between realm where they can think and act in ways that might appear mature, but they have not yet developed the understanding and awareness in trying to “figure out who I am” is a question that persists long into adulthood. One my annual rituals at this time of year is to re-watch Rob Reiner’s 1986 classic coming-of-age movie, “Stand By Me.” While there is so much to love about this film, my favorite scene is when the four boys are sitting around the campfire, and the narrator comments, “We talked into the night. The kind of talk that seemed important until you discovered girls.” The questions and comments that the boys pose are such innocent, Middle School appropriate ones: “If I could only have one food for the rest of my life: that’s easy. PEZ, cherry flavored PEZ…”Wagon Train” is a really cool show. But did you ever notice that they never get anywhere. They just keep wagon-training.” Yet, the most moving part of the film arrives at the very end, when the narrator types out the end of his novel on his computer screen: “I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was 12. Jesus, does anyone?” Hold your children tight; honor and love them for their quirks, challenges, struggles, and joys.

Friday, May 14

The month of May often presents both a sense of joy and potential disappointment for Middle School students. Students are certainly joyful with the looming end-of-year in sight! At the same time, students are also faced with final projects, assignments, and exams (for eighth-graders), which can certainly pose challenges and worries. During my many years of working with Middle Schoolers, I have heard on more than one occasion a student state in a panicked and terrified voice, “I know I’m going to fail because I’m so stupid!” And while the overwhelming majority of students never truly “fail,” they do experience disappointment, frustrations, and setbacks that are built upon a false sense of who they truly are. I have long felt that the value of disappointment and “failure” lies in our willingness, as human beings, to carefully confront, examine, and understand these feelings, As an educator, I understand and truly value schools that make and take the time to honestly engage students in reflecting and “owning” their disappointments, fears, and worries. So often, many schools march on to the next task at hand, allowing students to dance around the edges of failure and fear, moving forward with a sense of self that is not often true or helpful. Even as adults, we shy away from this process of confronting our own fears and failures, as our brains are hardwired to protect us (think “fight or flight” here): we disengage to protect ourselves from these honest and real emotions. Brené Brown’s article, “In You Must Go: Harnessing the Force by Owning Our Stories” points out this truth by examining a crucial scene from the Star Wars film “The Empire Strikes Back.” During his visit with Yoda on the Outer Rim planet of Dagobah, Luke, who is in the midst of his Jedi training, suddenly senses fear as he looks at the entrance to a dark cave, noting that “There’s something not right here…I feel cold. Death.” Yoda simply responds to Luke, “In you must go.” Luke enters the cave and battles with Darth Vader, and quickly decapitates his enemy. As Darth Vader’s head rolls to the ground, the helmet’s face mask explodes and reveals not Darth Vader’s face, but the face of Luke himself. By walking into the foreboding cave and confronting his fear, Luke learns a valuable truth about himself, enabling him to emerge stronger and more confident, because he knows who he is. Until we confront our own fears, worries, and disappoints, we walk around with stories we have made up about who we are and how others perceive us. Unless students confront their own disappointments, they often allow a poor grade, a disappointing teacher comment, or a weak presentation to define themselves as who they are as a human being. The worst manifestation of this disillusion is when a student calls her/himself a “failure.” As Brown notes in her article, “Owning our stories means acknowledging our feelings and wrestling with the hard emotions—our fear, anger, aggression, shame, and blame. This isn’t easy, but the alternative—denying our stories and disengaging from emotion—means choosing to live our entire lives in the dark. It means no accountability, no learning, no growth.” One important goal we have, as a Middle School, is to help students walk into that dark and scary cave often with the assistance of a teacher, advisor, counselor, or principal in order to understand who they truly are. When this happens, students can then begin to see themselves in a more positive and self-affirming manner. To own our own stories and to embrace the Force that truly binds us together, we must abide by Yoda’s simple command: In You Must Go…

Friday, May 7

As the end of the year becomes more and more of a reality, I find that the levels of stress in our Middle School community tend to rise. Final projects, assessments, exams for eighth-grade students, and simply the end of the school year serve to create this sense of increased worry and anxiety in many students (and adults!). As parents and educators, we certainly don’t want our children to feel helpless at this point in their development when confronted with challenging situations. However, research documents that some types of stress are actually healthy, not only for young adolescents, but for adults as well. When I speak with parents about stress and Middle School, I often reference the two types of stress that we, as humans, experience. Unhealthy stress, often termed as “distress,” is what happens when the stress is so intense, threatening, or overwhelming that we feel unable to change the situation and actually end up exhausting our resources and, as a result, don’t have the ability to successfully recover. This type of lengthy, unrelenting stress stimulates our brain into the “fight or flight mode.” Our hearts race, our breathing becomes difficult, our blood pressures rise, etc. Over time, this type of stress can be debilitating to the point where our health suffers in often severe and serious ways. However, the more healthy type of stress, known as “eustress,” enables us to handle challenging, acute situations in a productive manner, followed by the ability to rest and recover. In many ways, it is our ability (or inability) to prepare for “stressful” situations that can turn distress into eustress. While this is not to say that all stressful situations can be quickly transformed into something productive, it is our ability to thoughtfully prepare for the inevitable trying times of our lives that can lead to healthy outcomes. In her article “Rethinking the Way We Look at Stress,” clinical psychology Melanie Greenberg notes that “if we prepare properly for the stressful event, seek appropriate support and resources, and see it as meaningful or a personal challenge, we can turn these stressful events into positive experiences and opportunities for growth.” While this is hard work, learning how to see challenges as “opportunities for growth” is at the heart of successfully revisioning the stress we confront on a regular basis. To learn more about healthy stress in the lives of young adolescents, I encourage you to read Jennifer Wallace’s Washington Post article, “Don’t Worry About Your Child’s Everyday Stress. It May Be Helping.” Wallace notes that “While chronic or traumatic stress can be damaging, psychologists say normal, everyday stress—in the right dose and viewed through the right lens—can be helpful, pushing adolescents to grow beyond their limits and setting them up to thrive.” Breathe deeply, my friends…breathe deeply…

FRIDAY, APRIL 30

As many of you know, there are three simple words that serve to define the vision and mission of our Middle School community: True, Kind, and Necessary. And while I know that it is an ongoing effort to remind our students of the meaning, value, and impact of these words, it does take time for these words to sink in and have a real impact on the lives of our students. Whether it be the posters of these words in our hallways (and bathrooms!), a special day that was exclusively devoted to these words, or my discussions with students who have “ran afoul of the law,” I hope that our collective efforts leave some impression of these words on our students after they have left Middle School. Whether or not these three words become a code to live by for our students, I am well aware of the fact that many of us have been raised in communities that have literal Codes To Live By that are solidly embedded into the behavioral fabric of the community itself. For some, important scriptural texts serve as the moral linchpin for a community. For others, the words of important Civil Rights leaders guide behaviors and actions. For me, the voice of my late father reverberates in my head every time I rise out of bed in the morning: “Use your head for something other than a hat rack today!” My father’s father would also remind me every time he visited our home of his own Code To Live By: “With privilege comes responsibility.” You might well-imagine my glee when I read a recent New York Times opinion article, “ ‘To Leave the World a Bit Better’ and Other Codes to Live By” that shared the Codes that many readers have come to Live By in their lives. Here are just a few of these Codes To Live By: Treat others as they wish to be treated, Always behave as if someone were watching, Your wake defines you, Create more, consume less, Be the person your dog thinks you are, What if everyone did that? I found one reader’s contribution especially touching: “My father died when he was 84, and when he was 80 years old I asked if he’d had any regrets in his life. ‘I wish I’d been more kind,’ he said. For me those words were revelatory.” If you or your family have particular Codes To Live By that serve as guideposts, I would love to hear from you! Please feel free to email me (bill.waskowitz@7hills.org ) and share your own particular Code(s) To Live By; with your permission, I will then publish (without naming the source) the Codes To Live By that serve to focus and direct what inspires, motivates, and guides the lives of some members of our Seven Hills community. I leave you with the other Code To Live By that my father would often remind his sons as he came in to say good night: “As Mr. T says, I pity the fool who just gives up. “

friday, april 23

It is no secret that we live in a time where we more often value and embrace what is “new” and “cutting-edge” as opposed to approaches and methodologies from the “past.” My brain often reels and quickly tires-out in attempts to understand what is the “leading/bleeding” edge in efforts to best educate Middle Schoolers. And while we, as a Middle School faculty, have learned and employed many new approaches to best-educate young adolescents, there are valuable lessons that we, as both educators and parents, should not lose sight of nor quickly forget. Linda Flanagan, a freelance writer, researcher, and editor published two related articles on the KQED (northern California public radio station) website about investigative journalist Michaeleen Doucleff’s recent book, “Hunt, Gather, Parent: What Ancient Cultures Teach Us About the Lost Art of Raising Happy, Helpful Little Humans,” that uncovers and reveals what Ancient Cultures can teach us about effective educational pedagogies and successful approaches to parenting. In her article, “What Today’s Classrooms Can Learn From Ancient Cultures,” Flanagan notes several Ancient Culture practices that Doucleff uncovered that are fundamental and vital to a child’s education: adult interference/intervention is kept to a minimum, cultivating a sense of authentic connection between children and adults is vital, empowering students to be partners in the learning process, and using encouragement (as opposed to constant praise) to develop a student’s sense of self-governance. In her article “What Parents in Ancient Cultures Can Teach Their Western Equivalents,” Flanagan cites Doucleff’s research that urges mothers and fathers to consider the following approaches to parenting, as modeled in ancient cultures: shrink child-centered activities where your child is “the special one and exempted from family duties,” set your own agenda as opposed to revolving one’s life around your child’s agenda, try not to intervene in an attempt to solve your child’s problem or to fix things that have gone awry, ease up on praising routine activities and focus more on encouraging your child, and finally, and perhaps most prescient, practice being quiet (quiet calms everyone down!). In reading these two articles, I realized, as both an educator and parent, that I have grown in both of these professions but still have much to learn. I also know that our Middle School community can continue to learn and grow as we strive to embrace many of Doucleff’s reflections. My big takeaway from these reads is that cultivating a sense of agency in children as well as empowering them to advocate for their own needs are ancient culture lessons that need to be a part of every school and every family.

Friday, April 16

I am so pleased that our Middle School community will be sponsoring GLSEN’s Day of Silence  where “LGBTQ students and allies all around the country—and the world—take a vow of silence to protest the harmful effects of harassment and discrimination of LGBTQ people in schools” (GLSEN website). Having the courage to stand up and voice one’s support for anything is a daring act, especially for Middle School students. As we all know, children at this stage in their development often shun being in the limelight and are more comfortable remaining in the comfort of a crowd of their peers. In a similar manner, several students and faculty have come to me, voicing their fears and worries of the recent tragic killings of Black men and boys at the hands of police. Other students have recently talked with me about their worries and fears related to the rise in violence and hatred directed toward Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders. Standing up and speaking out is truly a courageous act that also makes us extremely vulnerable at the same time. In my “Link of the Week” from March 5, I wrote about the work of Brené Brown, professor, author, and researcher who has studied courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy. Brown has also been focusing on ways we can cultivate and teach courage in our schools. According to Brown, the only ways we can create an “absolute foundation of brave and safe spaces starts with examining power, privilege, and the systems we work in.” And while this is easy to “say,” it is another thing to actually take on the work of creating schools that have this type of foundation. I know that undertaking this work requires us to be vulnerable, to willingly “show up” without the armor of protection or fear that prevents us from living an authentic life. However, if we aren’t willing to be vulnerable, the costs are (to say the least) tragically sad. Brown notes that when we aren’t willing to be vulnerable, we won’t experience the powers of love, belonging, and joy. In my own personal life, I am learning to be more and more vulnerable with my interactions with those I love and so deeply care about. In a similar manner, I try to be just as vulnerable with our students, faculty, and parents. And while this can be painful, awkward, and uncomfortable, the ability to experience the love, belonging, and joy that comes from such vulnerability fuels all that I do. I am confident that when our students express the willingness to be courageous and vulnerable with events like the April 23 Day of Silence, they are helping to create a more loving, connected, and joyful Middle School community. For more information about Brené Brown’s “Dare To Lead: Daring Classrooms” ideas, please click here.

Friday, April 9

I am sure that you can remember the awkward presentations you experienced in school surrounding the topic of puberty and sexuality. I painfully recall my gym teacher, Mr. Warnick, talking to us (as sixth-graders) in gender segregated classes about male and female anatomy. The cross-sections flip-chart diagrams he used still haunt me to this very day. Thankfully, the approach to sexual education has been changing during the past several decades. While it is essential for adolescents to understand how their bodies “work,” simply focusing on the physiological aspects of sexuality alone is not appropriate. More and more approaches to sexual education understand and incorporate the building of positive and healthy relationships that focus on developing empathy. The Harvard Graduate School of Education published an article in 2018, “Sex Education That Goes Beyond Sex,” recommending that talking “about relationships, caring, and consent as part of a comprehensive approach to sex ed.” The author, Grace Tatter, conducted research demonstrating that “Giving students a foundation in relationship-building and centering the notion of care for others can enhance wellbeing and pave the way for healthy intimacy in the future… It can prevent or counter gender stereotyping and bias. And it could minimize instances of sexual harassment and assault in middle and high school.” Developing the ability for students to become “more well-practiced in thinking about caring for one another” is more likely to reduce sexual violence and assist adolescents in being “better prepared to engage in and support one another in relationships, romantic and otherwise, going forward.” This is one of the main reasons why I continue to embrace the work that Healthy Visions does with our students. Healthy Visions encourages honest and respectful conversations between students centering on the belief that caring for others at this stage in their development will serve as a healthy foundation for intimacy and affection in the years to come. I hope that you agree with me that this is an approach to “sex ed” that we can all support. I can only hope that Mr. Warnick’s flip-chart diagrams are locked away in some dank, dark corner in Lincoln Elementary School’s basement…

On a lighter note: I think you might get a good laugh viewing the brief video,”If Adults Dated Like Middle Schoolers”; click here for an awkward laugh!

Friday, april 2

During spring break, I watched “Operation Varsity Blues: The College Admissions Scandal” on Netflix. This documentary reenacts the 2019 college admissions scandal that resulted in more than 50 people being charged with bribing their children’s admission into many of the “top” universities around the nation. For me, perhaps the most heartbreaking moment of this film is watching the reactions of those hard-working but less-privileged students receive their “rejection” notice from their “dream school.” The supposed promise of the American Dream, that hard work is rewarded and that we are all given equal opportunities, is immediately thrown out the window for these students. However, what continues to frustrate me is the perpetuation of what psychologists call a “shared delusion” about what success means for a many students and their families; that the path to success is narrow, that one misstep will spell disaster, and that making mistakes when you are in high school (and even in middle school) will follow you for the rest of your life. In his March 22, 2018 Time Magazine article, “It’s Time To Tell Your Kids It Doesn’t Matter Where They Go To College,” William Stixrud comments that this shared delusion that success is a narrowly defined path ultimately judged by where one goes to college is debilitating and destructive: “The problem with the stories we’re telling our kids is that they foster fear and competition. This false paradigm affects high-achieving kids, for whom a rigid view of the path to success creates unnecessary anxiety, and low-achieving kids, many of whom conclude at a young age that they will never be successful, and adopt a ‘why try at all?’ attitude.” As both a parent and educator, I wince at the stress and worry that many students go through during their middle and high school years. Raising children in a society that often uses fear as a motivator never results in long-term happiness: fears that you aren’t smart enough, pretty enough, strong enough, or popular enough can never be truly conquered. It is precisely because of this reality that I love my work and association with communities like Seven Hills. We know, believe, and strive to encourage students to get better at something rather than being the best, to involve themselves in things that bring them joy, and to create positive friendships and connections with others. These pursuits have so much more to do with success than any acceptance letter from a college or university could ever create.

Thursday, March 11

It is very hard for me to believe that we have been in an official “pandemic” for a year. We all have stories and memories of what this past year has been like; the good, the bad, and the (very) ugly. I was living in Over-the-Rhine at this early point in the pandemic and felt a deep sense of loss and loneliness whenever I would venture outside to walk my dog, get groceries, or go for a run. Empty, sad, and a bit bored; that is how I really felt, as the joys that come with working in a school community weren’t there. I often recalled Arthur Schopenhauer’s (19^th Century German Philosopher) words: “The two enemies of human happiness are pain and boredom.” And while we are beginning to see a slow return to some of the activities that feed our very human need for happiness (e.g. real-time opportunities for human contact and socialization), I wonder what this “next normal” will begin to look like for all of us, but most especially for our students. One thing is clear to me as I ponder the future; our students possess an amazing sense of resiliency and creativity, especially when confronted with challenges and obstacles. So many of our students found (and continue to find) ways to seek happiness. Creative outlets abound for our students in our Middle School community: writing, acting, painting, running and playing games, making music, singing, etc. I am beyond thrilled when I walk around at Fruit Break, lunch, and during classes, watching students play and interact with each other, despite the mandated mask-wearing and social distancing. Creativity and play are innate qualities that make for a healthy (and not-so-bored) Middle Schooler. We remain committed to preserving this vital quality for wholesome adolescent growth. The New York Times, through its Learning Network, recently asked the crucial question, “What has it been like to be a teenager during the first year of a historic pandemic?” This project highlights entries that “show what teenagers have lost—and what they have found.” I urge to read this article (click here) to experience the “words and images, audio and video, they reported that it was, in many ways, a generation-defining disaster.” I think you will be surprised, moved, and appreciative of the creativity that empowers our youth to remain resilient and strong.

Friday, March 5

Today’s focus on the importance of the words True, Kind, and Necessary, brought to mind the work of Brené Brown, professor, author, and researcher who has studied courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy. In her studies, Brown focuses on the power and importance of vulnerability, that ability to “show up” and “to be seen” for who you are. I can’t think of anything more difficult and daunting for Middle School students than to be vulnerable in front of their peers. So often, Middle Schoolers are struggling with the dilemma of wanting to be unique while, at the same time, wanting to fit in with their peers. True growth for Middle Schoolers means taking off one’s “armor” and “showing up” as they truly are, warts, zits, changing voices, and all other aspects of adolescent awkwardness. Even as adults, we often struggle with “showing up” as our authentic selves, especially in uncomfortable situations. Theodore Roosevelt’s 1910 speech, “The Man in the Arena,” is often cited by Brown as epitomizing the dangers and ultimate strengths for those willing to step “into the arena” of vulnerability: “The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”  I believe that, at its essence, our work as educators is to empower students to understand and embrace the importance of being vulnerable. Yes, it is hard work. Yes, it is painful. And, yes, it is how Middle Schoolers can grow into happy, healthy, and caring adults. 

Friday, Feb. 26

While I absolutely love my role as an administrator in the Middle School, the highlight of my day is teaching two sections of sixth-grade Writing Workshop! Recently, I have been using the 2011 film documentary, “Happy” (written, and co-produced by Roko Belic) to study and understand the emotional “skill” of happiness. This film explores human happiness by interviewing people from all walks of life and countries, and introduces some fascinating studies that reinforce the fact that happiness is a skill that we can perfect, just like learning how to play the piano. What I found most fascinating and compelling is that while 50% of our ability to experience “happiness” is due to our genetic inheritance and 10% of our level of happiness is attributed to our health/social status/work/finances, 40% of our happiness is determined by the actions we choose to do! One of the most touching interviews in the film is glimpsing into the life of Manoj Singh, a rickshaw driver who lives in the slums of Calcutta. When asked about his life, Mr. Singh replies, “My home is good, one side is open and the air flows into the room nicely. A plastic tarp covers the exterior, but one side has a window. During the monsoon, we have some trouble with rain blowing inside. Except for this we live well. When I return home on the afternoon, my son is sitting at that tea shop and waiting for my return, and when he calls to me ‘Baba!” I am full of joy. I feel that I am not poor, but I am the richest person.'” The film goes on to examine six types of intentional activities that we can choose to do that will increase our overall levels of happiness: (1) expressing gratitude, (2) doing something kind, (3) connecting to your community, (4) playing, (5) getting in the “flow,” and (6) trying something new. By understanding that happiness is a skill that we can choose to develop in our daily habits, we can make our own lives and those of others more fulfilling. And the best news of all is that these practices are free!  In our Middle School, I feel that we strive to teach, demonstrate, and reinforce the importance of these intentional skills to cultivate happiness. If you have a subscription to Amazon Prime, I urge you to watch this film. Better yet, take some time this weekend to practice one of these six skills; you’ll not only feel good…you’ll be happy!

friday, feb. 19

This week, Marisa Shubert (Middle School learning specialist), Taylor Markovits (Middle School counselor), and I shared our thoughts and ideas on the important skills—both academic and social—that are an integral part of our Middle School program. Our presentation focused on the foundational changes and development of the adolescent brain and how we, as educators and parents, can best support the acquisition of key-skills that will equip students for success, both now and in the years to come. As any parent or teacher of a Middle Schooler knows, acquiring these skills is made all the more complex due to the fact that the part of the brain that is responsible for executive functioning skills (the pre-frontal cortex) is the last to develop. With this in mind, our Middle School program strives to develop specific skills that are embedded in the curricula in each of our three grade levels that include the following: Growth Mindset, Organization, Time Management, Stress Management, Study Skills, and Metacognition. And while the timeline and acquisition of these skills varies from student to student, I remain confident that our Middle School program is able to deliver a challenging and engaging experience that prepares our students not just for their Upper School years, but for life. Click here to access a PDF version of this presentation click here; for a recording of last night’s event, click here.

Friday, Feb. 12

One of the central goals of the upcoming Student–Reflection activity is to engage our students in the process of thinking about how they learn. This process, also known as “metacognition” is, simply put, “the process of thinking about thinking.” While this skill takes time to develop, the value of being able to know how one learns has benefits for students, both now and in the years to come. In an excerpt from Charles Fadel, Bernie Trilling and Maya Bialik book, “Four-Dimensional Education: The Competencies Learners Need to Succeed”  they note that metacognition “is important in every aspect of school and life, since it involves self-reflection on one’s current position, future goals, potential actions and strategies, and results. At its core, it is a basic survival strategy, and has been shown to be present even in rats.” Perhaps the greatest value in developing this strategy is the ability for individuals to “transfer” discreet skills learned from one discipline (e.g. problem-solving in math) to real-life situations “where clear-cut divisions of disciplines fall away and one must select competencies from the entire gamut of their experience to effectively apply them to the challenges at hand.” From my perspective, this is the true value and purpose of education; to develop the ability to grasp, understand, and solve real-world challenges by using skills that can be universally applied to that thing called “life.” While it is nice to know that rats have this ability to use problem-solving skills as a survival strategy, our Middle School program strives to empower students not only to survive, but to thrive.

Friday, Feb. 5

Last week, I shared my frustration and anger after reading David Brooks’ op-ed piece in the New York Times (“Children Need to be Back in School Tomorrow”), in which he points out that so many of our country’s students, who are less fortunate than others, and who are more often Black and brown, are forced to be learning in a remote manner. Recent studies have clearly shown students who learn remotely have “lost at least a third of a year’s worth of learning in reading and three-quarters of a year’s worth of learning in math,” suffering long-term damage, simply due to their zip code. Having spent some time thinking about this, I found Nikolas Kristof’s  New York Times article, “We Are A Nation Of Child Abusers,” both frustrating and hopeful. Kristof cites the widening disparity between the wealthy and poor, noting, “ the United States has long had one of the highest rates of child poverty in the advanced world—and then the coronavirus pandemic aggravated the suffering.” However, President Joe Biden’s recent proposal of his $1.9 trillion American Rescue Plan offers some light at the end of this gloomy tunnel: one study notes that this plan would cut child poverty by half! This is a start to solving this most vexing problem that needs urgent attention. Until we start seeing all of our children as individuals whose fates are intimately tied together, we will continue to live in a country that offers separate and unequal opportunities for its citizens. By realizing that we are all interconnected individuals whose fates rise and fall together, we develop that most important human quality that overcomes abject disparity and suffering; compassion.

Friday, Jan. 29

After reading David Brooks’ op-ed piece in yesterday’s New York Times (“Children Need to be Back in School Tomorrow”), I am more grateful than ever to be associated with Seven Hills; I am also more frustrated than ever. Brooks highlights the grim news and predictions for those schools who have yet to return to in-person learning. Mental health problems have escalated in schools that remain in remote learning modes and the long-term effects for students who are not in school are frightening. A Stanford study suggested that the average student has lost at least a third of a year’s worth of learning in reading and three-quarters of a year’s worth of learning in math. Perhaps the most disheartening news is the negative effects that remote learning poses for economically disadvantaged communities, which serve a large proportion of poorer Black and brown students. Brooks raises the challenging question to his readers, asking the uncomfortable and essential question: “Readers, many of us got involved in the Black Lives Matter marches last summer. I guess I would ask you, do Black lives matter to you only when they serve your political purpose? If not, shouldn’t we all be marching to get Black and brown children back safely into schools right now?” Again, I remain so grateful and thankful to be associated with Seven Hills, an educational community that has amazing resources to deploy during this pandemic that help to offer the best possible education during this challenging time. However, I am also frustrated and angered that so many of our country’s students who are less fortunate than others are now paying an extremely high price, coupled with the possibility of long-term damage, simply due to their zip code. I need to take some time this weekend and ponder how I can respond to this type of injustice.

Friday, Jan. 22

Twenty two-year-old National Youth Poet Laureate Amanda Gorman read her poem, “The Hill We Climb,” at President Joe Biden’s inauguration this past Wednesday. Hardly a simple mouthpiece for the incoming presidential administration, Gorman spoke about very complicated and complex issues, such as white supremacy, oppression, and the unsettling events of the past several weeks. The power of poetry was so plainly evident as Gorman reflected on the pains and struggles that we have collectively experienced, as well as the hope and light that is an essential part of what our country is and can be, both now and in the years to come. I encourage you to watch and listen as Ms. Gorman reads her moving poem by clicking here.

Friday, Jan. 15

I recently read Isabel Wilkerson’s “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents,” a profound examination of the powerful presence and domination of an American caste system that has infused and influenced the roles that Black Americans have historically occupied in our society. While disturbing, Wilkerson vividly illustrates the link between American Blacks, the “American Untouchables,” and the Dalits, the “Indian Untouchables.” Both American Blacks and Dalits have been relegated to the lowest castes while white Americans and the Indian Brahmins have occupied the dominant, highest castes. What struck me as most disturbing is Wilkerson’s revealing examination of the research that the Nazis performed in their attempt to create their own caste system, positing Jews as their own “Untouchables.” In the hopes of learning lessons from the American caste system’s treatment of Blacks as “Untouchables,” several Nazi researchers hesitated at replicating some of the horrific acts of American racism toward Blacks. Herbert Kier, a Nazi intellectual tasked with compiling information on U.S. race laws, was “confounded by the lengths to which America went to segregate its population…who thought American law went overboard.” (pp.83-84). More than anything else, I found Wilkerson’s examination of the American caste system to be an eye-opening lesson in the destructiveness of an artificially imposed system of segregation that needs to be dismantled as quickly as possible. Timely, instructive, and humanizing, Wilkerson’s examination of caste illuminates an unseen reality of American society.

Friday, Jan. 8

As I was in a reflective mode during this Winter Break, I felt both grateful and fortunate to be associated with such a kind and caring community like Seven Hills. This past year has brought an abundance of change and I spent a great deal of time reflecting on what possible lessons and/or changes we, as an educational community, can embrace as a result of this pandemic. In reading Jal Mehta’s New York Times article, “Make Schools More Human,” he shares four “lessons” that the pandemic has revealed as to how schools can improve: one-size schooling is obsolete, making school more “human” is a priority, the needs of students cannot be set against the needs of adults, and the need to determine what is truly essential and needed for students to learn is crucial. While I strongly feel that we, as a Middle School, have wrestled with these lessons prior to the pandemic, I remain firmly committed in determining how we, as an educational community, can continue to “get better,” whether or not we are in a pandemic. In reflecting on Mehta’s “lessons,” I find that the importance of making schools more “human” is one that has long been at the core of our Middle School community. Knowing that relationships are part and parcel of humanizing the educational experience, Mehta notes, “Classrooms that are thriving during the pandemic are the ones where teachers have built strong relationships and warm communities, whereas those that focus on compliance are really struggling without the compulsion that physical school provides.” The strong student-teacher relationships that are at the heart of our Middle School empower students to feel valued and connected, knowing that they are seen as individuals whose feelings and ideas matter. I remain so very grateful that our faculty know that relationships matter and that our students need to feel supported, heard, and loved.

Saturday, Dec. 19

Grateful…that is how I am feeling right now…grateful…for all that I have, for the people in my life, and for our amazing Middle School community. During our closing holiday (virtual) assembly, I stressed this sense of gratitude and urged our community to take a moment to think of the importance of relationships with friends and family at this time of year. In this spirit, I shared a most touching and powerful commercial produced by a pharmaceutical company in The Netherlands, DocMorris, that poignantly emphasized the importance of family and relationships. Click here to see this short video. Here’s to a happy holiday season and to a wonderful New Year!

Friday, Dec. 11

O.K….enough with sharing my thoughts on such weighty topics as gender stereotyping, the ravages of the pandemic, perfectionism, etc. At this time of year, my focus always reverts to what I remember as a child during the holiday season. Growing up in the 1960s, this meant only one thing; the Christmas specials that aired on our black and white TV that received a staggering total of three channels. While I loved “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” “Dr. Seuss’ How The Grinch Stole Christmas,” and “Frosty The Snowman,” there was one holiday special that haunted me a bit more than I care to admit. Rankin and Bass’ 1964 hit, “Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer,” was both funny (e.g. Yukon Cornelius’ proclamation that “Bumbles Bounce!” and Hermey’s desire to be a dentist) and subtlety disturbing. I cringed every time I saw Rudolph’s father, Donner, place mud on his young son’s nose in his attempt to cover up his son’s glowing attribute and then comment, “You’ll be a normal buck, just like everybody else, right? A chip off the old antlers.” The one scene that really got to me, however, was when Rudolph, feeling that his glowing red nose would draw the attention of the Abominable Snowman and endanger his friends Hermey and Yukon Cornelius, decides to run away. Watching Rudolph drift away on an ice flow, leaving his friends behind, as he slips off into the vast and lonely sea, made me feel…very sad. However, I was ultimately comforted by the fact that Rudolph was able to save Christmas, as his nose lit a path through a blizzard, allowing Santa to, once again, deliver the toys to his waiting recipients. I urge you to watch this holiday special (click here) and to then read Caitlin Flanagan’s entertaining look at this childhood classic, “Don’t Subject Your Kids To Rudolph: The World Is Bleak Enough As It Is.” I guess they don’t (thankfully) “make ‘em like they used to.”

Friday, Dec. 4

In the Nov. 13 Middle School Blast, I shared my thoughts and concerns about the ways in which our society continues to perpetuate the dominant gender stereotypes of what it means to be male and female. For girls, the ability to remain strong-willed and independent (like Louisa May Alcott’s character, Jo March, from “Little Women”) can empower and liberate them from the harmful depictions of what it means to be “female” as portrayed in so much of today’s social media (e.g. remaining docile, depending on men, quieting their desire to speak up for themselves, etc.). For boys, the price is equally high and destructive when they strive to conform to our societal norms of masculinity that promise to give them a sense of belonging and social acceptance. In her article, “For Adolescent Boys, Maintaining Masculinity Can Stymie Genuine Connections,” Judy Chu notes that “when boys wear the mask of masculinity, don a tough guise, or assume a cool pose, they not only hide their relational capabilities and vulnerability from view, but also display attitudes and behaviors that tend to keep others at a distance.” Sadly, this conformity often destroys their ability to develop the “emotionally close relationships they need and want, leaving them feeling isolated and lonely instead.” During these important Middle School years, we must do all that we can to nurture, in both our boys and girls, the ability to share their vulnerability and to create meaningful connections and relationships with others. No doubt, the presence and influence of social media and its toxic representations of what it means to be female and male will only grow in scope and power; it is up to us to show our children the importance of remaining sensitive and vulnerable.

Wednesday, Nov. 25

I have mixed feelings about this Thanksgiving Break, as my three daughters will all be in their respective “homes” that are not in Cincinnati. With the pandemic raging across the land, they have exercised caution and good sense, knowing that their decision to “stay put” is one that is safe, logical, and sound. Still, the many traditions that have marked decades of family Thanksgivings will be largely absent this year for all of us. I will sorely miss not being present with my daughters to make our Grateful Dead-Keep on Truckin’ Veggie Chili. Even the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade will be remote, whatever that means. However, rather than choosing to feel like a stranger in a new and unfamiliar world during this time of year,  it is so much healthier and joyful to know that we have so much for which to be thankful. Cooking a small but special meal, thinking about the meaningful relationships I have with family and friends, and being so very grateful that I am alive, warm, and grateful for all that surrounds me is a tradition I vow to always remember and cherish. I urge you to find a quiet moment and read Mark Vanhoenacker’s article, “Thanksgiving in a Strange Land.” Embrace the fact that this year, while different than anything else we have experienced, gives us the opportunity to live in a “strange land” and to maintain and cherish those connections that keep us nourished and cared for. Smile, breath deeply, and exhale slowly…

Friday, Nov. 20

We’ve all read articles on how to “parent” during this pandemic, and there is such a range of suggested approaches. Some argue that we should treat our kids softly and gently, as the potential for psychic trauma that this new way of existing (e.g. school closures, limited social interactions, etc.) is huge. The other camp argues that “staying tough” and requiring our kids to “suck it up and deal” will create the resiliency that will prepare them for an unknown and challenging future. As a kid, I never had to live through a pandemic and my parents had fairly vague expectations that were, by today’s standards, pretty pathetic; be home by the time it gets dark, it’s your homework so get it done by yourself, and don’t hang out with derelicts. While I did hang out with some pretty sketchy characters, I survived my adolescence in a somewhat respectable manner. It is in this spirit that I found Emily Flake’s recent New York Times article, “Am I Too Easy On My Kid?” so refreshing in shedding light on what we are all struggling with right now; how can we responsibly raise a happy and well-adjusted child during a worldwide pandemic that is reaping horrific casualties? Ms. Flake’s answer is so refreshing and real, as she notes, “There’s an art to being gentle with yourself and with others in a way that doesn’t cancel out the idea of expectations and responsibilities, of keeping yourself in some semblance of order even if it feels like the world is falling apart.” Be kind and gentle with yourself and others and give yourself some latitude in relaxing those rules that, by the end of the day, really don’t matter. As we prepare for an extended time in being with each other, remind yourself of the “rules” that really need to be enforced and the “rules” that really don’t matter…except for that one about hanging out with derelicts. Stay happy and kind!

Friday, Nov. 6

When my three adult-aged daughters were young girls, they were utterly fascinated and drawn to the character of Jo March, the indomitably spirited character from Louisa May Alcott’s “Little Women.”  What they loved about Jo was her creative, strong-willed, and independent spirit. However, when my daughters went through Middle School, they occasionally worried that acting like Jo would cause others to label them as “not female.” Suffice it to say, my daughters survived Middle School and continue to possess and develop their own incarnation of Jo March as young adults. However, I still cringe with the ways in which our society continues to perpetuate the dominant gender stereotypes of what it means to be male and female. I am thrilled beyond words that we, as a society, are learning to embrace and celebrate the spectrum of gender identity for our children. Just as our school’s Mission Statement proclaims that we seek to challenge students “to develop their unique abilities,” it is incumbent on us to allow our daughters and sons to grow into the best versions of themselves, at times challenging and defying the gender stereotypes that (sadly) still exit in our world. With this in mind, I encourage you to read Lisa Selin Davis’ opinion piece, “Bring Back The Tomboys,” that appeared last February in the New York Times. Indeed, we need Jo March, perhaps now more than ever!

Friday, Oct. 30

My brain has officially reached “full capacity” when it comes to following the current state of the elections, knowing that the week to come may be quite confusing as we head into Election Day. Whatever (and whenever) the outcome may be, I have become more and more worried about our collective abilities to distinguish truth from fiction as we read, watch, and listen to what the “media” feeds us. The term “media literacy” has been around for some time, knowing that we need to be able to identify false information when it comes our way. Our children need to be intentionally educated, as well, to tell truth from fiction as they are also receiving misinformation about important issues such as the pandemic, politics, and race relations in our country. In Amy Yee’s New York Times article, “To Recognize Misinformation in Media, Teach a Generation While It’s Young,” she states that, “Teaching media literacy skills to teenagers and younger students can protect readers and listeners from misinformation, just as teaching good hygiene reduces disease.” As a Middle School, we strive to teach the complex skills of critical thinking so that students can analyze both content and source when it comes to information that is now an ever-present part of their daily lives. As adults, we all need to be involved in helping our kids become informed and engaged citizens of our democracy. Let’s all be on our toes, sifting truth from fiction, during these trying times.

Friday, oct. 23

On Nov. 19, 2008, in the midst of the financial recession, Rahm Emmanuel, Barack Obama’s first chief of staff, made his now infamous comment, “You never want a serious crisis to go to waste. And what I mean by that is an opportunity to do things that you think you could not do before.” Being in the midst of a crisis right now, what keeps me up at night is wondering what “opportunities” we will seize upon to re-examine and reimagine what our educational system looks like in the years to come. While I have always been a bit skeptical about the prophecies of educational prognosticators, Thomas Friedman, Pulitzer Prize winning political commentator and author, has always forced me to think and question the future of education in ways that are inspiring, sometimes dubious, and occasionally frightening. I read Friedman’s recent New York Times article, “After the Pandemic, a Revolution in Education and Work Awaits,” wondering if his ideas are a plausible response to the educational opportunities of this current crisis. Friedman notes that, “Your children can expect to change jobs and professions multiple times in their lifetimes, which means their career path will no longer follow a simple ‘learn-to-work’ trajectory…but rather a path of ‘work-learn-work-learn-work-learn.’” While this sounds a bit daunting (and exhaustive), instilling the important value of “lifelong learning” has always been at the center of any educated democracy. Indeed, Seven Hills’ Missions Statement clearly states that lifelong learning is integral to the goal of “preparing each [student] for a meaningful role in a rapidly changing world.” I remain confident that our Middle School provides the most important ingredients that need to be a part of each student’s future: giving our students the curiosity and passion needed to embrace an uncertain future.  While the future is always determined by what are we doing right now, I can sleep a bit easier, knowing  that curiosity and passion will help our Middle Schoolers navigate their future with confidence and optimism. Sleep well…

Friday, Oct. 16

We are all familiar with some variation of the Oxygen Mask Rule when flying on a plane: “Should the cabin lose pressure, oxygen masks will drop from the overhead area. Please place the mask over your own mouth and nose before assisting others.” This same “rule” applies to parents during this uncertain and difficult time of living through a worldwide pandemic. In Sandi Villarreal’s recent New York Times article, “When What Parents Are Feeling Is More Than Just Stress,” she reminds us of the critical importance of not ignoring our own health concerns (both physical and emotional): “As parents continue to move through stressful situations, experts encourage them to recognize that what they are experiencing is common…parents [need to] regularly check in with themselves and with their health care providers, whether in person or via telemedicine.” Simply put, please take care of yourselves! These are stressful times and it is vital to our children’s well-being that we are physically and emotionally “fit” so as to tend to our own kids. All too often, we are willing to forsake our own health needs for the sake of caring for our own kids. I remain particularly sensitive and concerned about the emotional toll this current situation can exact on us as parents. We need to ensure that we are eating well, getting enough sleep, and consulting a professional when we sense that something isn’t just right. For those of you watched the 1980s hit series, “Hill Street Blues,” I close this week’s message with Sgt. Phil Esterhaus’ sagely advice to his police officers as they hit the streets after morning roll call: “Let’s be careful out there…”

Wednesday, Oct. 7

These are, indeed, trying times to be living in America. Every day, another story or event occurs that feels like a punch to the stomach. I recently discovered an eight-episode anthology series on Apple+ TV, “Little America,” that helped me feel positive about the strength and hope immigrants have long brought to our country. Each of these eight episodes “zooms in on one person, warmly depicting a slice of his or her life. Taken together, the installments offer a non-exhaustive mosaic of immigrant experiences. “Little America’s” guiding principle is its not-so-subtle affirmation of its characters’ humanity, an artistic intention that’s noble given the current political (and entertainment) climate.” Read more about this delightful anthology in a recent article from The Atlantic. My favorite episode in this series is one titled, “The Cowboy,” that follows a Nigerian immigrant named Iwegbuna,“who grew up watching Westerns with his late father. When he immigrates to Oklahoma to study economics, Iwegbuna bridges the gap between himself and his family back home in part by listening to cassette tapes they send him, on which they recount everyday updates of their lives.” If you can, watch some of these episodes; you will be happy you did so!

Friday, Oct. 2, 2020

I have been using the word grateful quite a bit during the past several months. I continue to be grateful for the time, efforts, and flexibility our faculty have put in to make this challenging school year one that is enjoyable and meaningful for our students. I have also been grateful for the patience and flexibility of our parent community as we have worked to create guidelines and protocols to keep everyone as safe as possible. As a result of my feeling “grateful” for so much in our community, I have also been very happy, despite the many problems that the pandemic continues to wreak on our world. In his 2013 TedTalk, Brother David Steindl-Rast, a Benedictine monk, powerfully suggests that true happiness is born from gratitude. Take 15 minutes out of your day and watch Brother David Steindl-Rast’s TedTalk, “Want to be happy? Be grateful”; I think you will be grateful and happy…