I've just finished one of the more unique experiences of my life: Clerking a peer networking event for early childhood teachers in Quaker schools. 30 educators from 12 different schools along the east coast gathered together to reflect on the idea of individuals and community. How might we, as teachers, celebrate the unique individuals in our classrooms while still nurturing a sense of community among them? In Quaker meetings, clerking entails a variety of responsibilities (this explains it more succinctly than I ever could), and I'll be honest - although it was a role for which I'd volunteered, I was nervous. I would forget something or make a mistake. A conflict might emerge. I could have to interrupt or redirect a total stranger. What was I thinking?
But, as tends to be the case when I try to embrace my own "not knowing," it was amazing.
Our time together included a variety of formats for sharing. There was a panel of teachers addressing a general topic, small group discussions around a common query, and individual presentations reflecting on a particular teaching practice. And there was lots of lively, informal conversation over coffee, chocolate, and dinner. I was reminded of the importance of connecting with fellow educators; that there is great power in the exchange of our experiences, if for no other reason than reassuring us that we are not alone in both the joys and frustrations of our profession.
Through all of the sharing that took place, I noticed a recurring idea: That feeling safe and loved is essential to expressing our truth. Being ourselves, ALL of ourselves, with our quirks and differences and weaknesses, is a brave and vulnerable act. When we take the time to form a meaningful connection with a child, they are free to show us who they are - their inner Light, in Quaker-speak. How might the world be changed, little by little, if each person we encounter felt empowered to "let their Light shine" as fully as possible?
During our closing worship, one teacher's message really resonated with me. So often, we hear that it takes a village to raise a child. But perhaps there is truth, as well, in it taking a village to "raise" a teacher. To "raise" any another human being. Perhaps we are able to be our best selves, student and teacher alike, when we can trust that we have a community ready to love us.
But, as tends to be the case when I try to embrace my own "not knowing," it was amazing.
Our time together included a variety of formats for sharing. There was a panel of teachers addressing a general topic, small group discussions around a common query, and individual presentations reflecting on a particular teaching practice. And there was lots of lively, informal conversation over coffee, chocolate, and dinner. I was reminded of the importance of connecting with fellow educators; that there is great power in the exchange of our experiences, if for no other reason than reassuring us that we are not alone in both the joys and frustrations of our profession.
Through all of the sharing that took place, I noticed a recurring idea: That feeling safe and loved is essential to expressing our truth. Being ourselves, ALL of ourselves, with our quirks and differences and weaknesses, is a brave and vulnerable act. When we take the time to form a meaningful connection with a child, they are free to show us who they are - their inner Light, in Quaker-speak. How might the world be changed, little by little, if each person we encounter felt empowered to "let their Light shine" as fully as possible?
During our closing worship, one teacher's message really resonated with me. So often, we hear that it takes a village to raise a child. But perhaps there is truth, as well, in it taking a village to "raise" a teacher. To "raise" any another human being. Perhaps we are able to be our best selves, student and teacher alike, when we can trust that we have a community ready to love us.
