
I was uploading the day's photos during nap time, as I always do, when I spotted it. A candid moment captured by my co-teacher, with me in the background as the children work. And there it was:
RBF
(Resting B*tch Face, for the uninitiated)
The tension in my mouth and jaw says it all. This is a woman who is projecting nothing but pure grump. And we were making cookies for crying out loud! I was horrified.
I wish I could remember what was going through my mind at the exact moment this picture was taken; I'm certain it was not reflected in my face. It had been a fun Friday morning, with lots of play and laughter in the classroom. I'd been in such a good mood that I stopped on the way to school to get coffee for my team. The children were engaged and curious as we collaborated on making the cookie batter, waiting with incredible patience for their turn to add the butter or sugar or vanilla. So what was with this face? In my mind's eye, I am a warm, empathetic, loving teacher. Who, you know, smiles and stuff.
It made me think immediately of one of my favorite quotes from Loris Malaguzzi: "Nothing without joy." I first read it at the beginning of my journey with the Reggio Emilia approach, and it seemed to capture everything I loved about it. Living in a culture that has gone mad with standardized testing, Malaguzzi's quote was a reminder of what education should - and could - be. It called me to reflect on the positive that can be found in any situation. It even adorned the doorway of Il Sole, my "home" school when I visited Reggio Emilia.
As much as I love the quote, however, it's actually a little intimidating to me. The catastrophic, all-or-nothing part of me scolds that a "good Reggio teacher" is always joyful, smiling, inspired. If you're not, well...you just must not be a very good teacher. But let's be honest. There are times I'm not feeling (or looking, apparently) so joyful. It's part of being human. I can still find the magic in everyday life despite all of the forces working to prove the opposite - which I dare say, is pretty amazing.
So I'm going to embrace the RBF in this photo. And maybe eat one of those cookies.
RBF
(Resting B*tch Face, for the uninitiated)
The tension in my mouth and jaw says it all. This is a woman who is projecting nothing but pure grump. And we were making cookies for crying out loud! I was horrified.
I wish I could remember what was going through my mind at the exact moment this picture was taken; I'm certain it was not reflected in my face. It had been a fun Friday morning, with lots of play and laughter in the classroom. I'd been in such a good mood that I stopped on the way to school to get coffee for my team. The children were engaged and curious as we collaborated on making the cookie batter, waiting with incredible patience for their turn to add the butter or sugar or vanilla. So what was with this face? In my mind's eye, I am a warm, empathetic, loving teacher. Who, you know, smiles and stuff.
It made me think immediately of one of my favorite quotes from Loris Malaguzzi: "Nothing without joy." I first read it at the beginning of my journey with the Reggio Emilia approach, and it seemed to capture everything I loved about it. Living in a culture that has gone mad with standardized testing, Malaguzzi's quote was a reminder of what education should - and could - be. It called me to reflect on the positive that can be found in any situation. It even adorned the doorway of Il Sole, my "home" school when I visited Reggio Emilia.
As much as I love the quote, however, it's actually a little intimidating to me. The catastrophic, all-or-nothing part of me scolds that a "good Reggio teacher" is always joyful, smiling, inspired. If you're not, well...you just must not be a very good teacher. But let's be honest. There are times I'm not feeling (or looking, apparently) so joyful. It's part of being human. I can still find the magic in everyday life despite all of the forces working to prove the opposite - which I dare say, is pretty amazing.
So I'm going to embrace the RBF in this photo. And maybe eat one of those cookies.