language, identity, feeling disequilibrium

Friday's "I am from..." threw me for a loop. I can relate to Emily's term of "coming undone" and also was so appreciative of those who spoke. I wanted to share but my work wasn't finished. But I was very glad to be able to listen. A little later I realized I was in fact pretty much speechless. Something about the exercise really took me back into a part of myself as a child that I hadn't revisited before. Later after class a bunch of my thoughts came tumbling out to some of our cohort who was still there. I was both very thankful to be able to express it and at the same time a bit embarrassed and humbled. I'm not entirely sure why this exercise seemed to rip me open that way at that time. But I did learn a lot from it.

We have done several reflections in other classes about our own school experiences as children, but when we got to the "I am from" writing, it was like time travel: I remembered suddenly what it was LIKE to be me as a child. I remembered there was a sort of dissonance between who I was inside and the institution/structure of school. And there was a dissonance between what I knew about aspects of my family life (like a fish is swimming in water...I lived in it but could not articulate it or conceptualize it as a child) and what was spoken about. (Thanks Sarah for that great insight.) Thinking about this "flashback" on Friday, and my literal feeling of speechlessness around it, I realized that so much of identity is connected to language. It is about words being spoken that ring true; being able to tell your truth; hearing others' stories; having the language to bridge our individual experiences inside of us to what is outside of us.

I was thinking about the toy exercise and my realization that despite our planning once I saw it in action it was not unfolding how I had pictured. I am taking to heart what was said about keeping in mind the most vulnerable person in the classroom. Between this, all the readings about codes of power and domination, my awareness of my position of privilege, and my emotional response to the writing exercise, I've been feeling anxious about my ability to be the kind of teacher I want to be. And yet, I feel resolve building up in me too. I know I must be feeling this disequilibrium in part because I am learning.

Equity: What are we aiming for, in the big picture? Where is the heart of all this? one piece of the answer from Friday was that each child in our classrooms feel safe, feel valued; that children/people have words to express themselves with so the inner world and the outer world can talk to each other. Over the weekend my thoughts about our class swirled around with thoughts of what happened in Norway. It made me feel that in addition to math and literacy and the arts and all...I wish education as a system also would focus on making sure our children learn how to listen, how to speak, how to be communicate with respect and know each other. While I don't expect to see a standard written up for that one anytime soon, it seems crucial.