Tag Archives: How might we?

Hinges in Kindergarten

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How will we make our own hinges? Hmmm …

The girls and I have been thinking about this for some time now. Last night I ran out to the hardware store and bought a hinge so we’d be able to look at the pieces, and problem solve together today.

Seems we have many problems to solve:

  1. We don’t have a way to screw in the hinge plates.
  2. We don’t have the remarkable stable structure of concrete walls.
  3. We don’t actually have hinges or hinge plates for our door.
  4. We don’t yet have the door completed.

How might we:

  1. Make our door more secure and stable? (Tomorrow we’re going to take a look at some door designs.)
  2. Create hinges, or hinge-like things, to hang our door?
  3. Create a stable structure to anchor our door?
  4. Make our door workable?

When I look at all the problems, and all the how might we questions, I’m a tad overwhelmed. But, then I see, in my minds eye, my girls, this morning.

I told them I had tubes that might work for the door. With a good deal of excitement, they asked if they could work on the door. “Sure, go ahead!” I replied.

When I popped my head in the makerspace, it was a remarkable scene. Four large columns were being constructed by four groups of girls. They were talking, pointing, sharing ideas, collaborating, and working hard. Some were standing on chairs (the door is much taller than they are). Some were straining their necks to see to the top of the door. All were engaged, empowered, invested, and joy-filled. It was AWESOME.

There is hope!

 

P.S.

Perhaps you are wondering:

  1. Why do you need to make hinges?
  2. You’re making a door?
  3. Why do you need a working door, doesn’t your classroom already have one?

We are making hinges and doors as part of our Social Studies supermarket build.

More on that later!

 

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Conscious Ink

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My diagnosis anniversary date is December 16. My feelings each anniversary are a combination of positive and less-than-positive emotions. I notice, acknowledge and feel the sorrow and other less-than-positive emotions, but I highlight and emphasize the positive emotions by celebrating!

In the past I have dyed a fuchsia streak in my hair with kool-aid, distributed glitter, and shared sparkly temporary tattoos. This year I decided to continue the temporary tattoos, but wanted to find the perfect tattoos. After some searching, I found Conscious Ink.

Here’s the first paragraph from their site “Can a temporary tattoo leave a lasting impression on our disposition? Solidify our intentions and affirmations? Make a permanent mark on the world? Crazy as it seems, Conscious Ink founder Frank Gjata says yes! Conscious Ink is on a mission is to spread love and raise consciousness around the world, one body at a time!” lol! HOW AWESOME IS THAT??!?!

I looked at their many offerings and chose 3 that spoke to me.

  • Breathe
  • Be brave
  • Anything is Possible

Great messages, right?!

I eagerly awaited my package. It made it to me the day before my anniversary. YAY!!

I wasn’t disappointed when I opened the package and examined the stash. Everything had such beautiful spirit, joy, humor AND creative thinking

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The tattoos themselves are great (non toxic, safe, made in the USA), but, the instruction card that comes with them pushed them over the edge into fantabulous! lol. As I read it, and followed the instructions, I chuckled to myself thinking “Wow, this is some cool creative thinking!”

I don’t know what “How might we …?” questions Frank and his team asked themselves, but here’s one I thought they must have considered.

How might we infuse each aspect of the temporary tattoo experience with mindfulness, intention, joy and good energy?

I laughed out loud – not making fun, but from surprise and enjoyment – when I read their instructions for the actual tattooing. As with most things, temporary tattoos don’t just magically happen. There is a process, and it includes waiting. Waiting is sometimes a drag, or something we endure and hope away, rather than experience with mindfulness and purpose. Not so, the Conscious Ink people.

What do they say? “Patience is a virtue.” LOL! That still makes me laugh out loud. They suggest you take the time to think about what it is you want to manifest. I love that!!! Take those 30 seconds or more and be present. Think. Breathe. Have the thoughts (joy, gratitude, hope) and do the things (breathe, celebrate) that were the reasons you chose your tats.

I followed the instructions – patient, mindful, purposeful being, instead of just waiting. It was a lovely 30-60 seconds. I am going to have my K students do this when I share the tats with them in January. I may even have them join in some writing about their tattoos and intentions. We shall see.

I am impressed with the thought and creativity of Conscious Ink. It enhanced my temporary tattoo experience. But, it’s also a wonderful reminder to me of what can be accomplished when we approach our work and life with purpose, intention, humor, joy and creativity.

By the way, Frank has some other nice sites (and by nice I mean pretty cool, awesome, fun etc. etc. etc.) worth checking out. They seem to all be linked from his website Blississippi. Give them a look if you have a moment.

And always remember … Breathe … and be brave.

 

 

 

 

 

Inviting Kindergartners Into My Process and Musing

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My hands will soon be covered in paint –  like hand in this photo. YAY! I cannot wait!

It is super important for me, as a person, and as an educator, to: get inspired, try new techniques, play, and make things. The whole process – anticipating, enjoying, searching, looking, researching, talking, trying, learning, failing, fretting and succeeding – teaches and touches me as a person and an educator.

The preparation is a time of excitement, joy and anticipation!

I relish the trip to the art store! Paper, paint, stencils, cutting tools, canvases, paint brushes invite me to explore, imagine and buy. I usually end up in line with much more than my original shopping list. If I’m lucky, my cashier is an artist. We kibitz over my choices, and share our passion and ideas. On my last visit, I discovered there is 300 pound watercolor paper! 300 lbs! The clerk said it is “Delicious!” (You do know I will soon be purchasing some, don’t you?)

I love scouring bookstores for art books or magazines. It’s a treasure hunt. If I’m lucky enough to find one or two that inspire me, I’m a happy girl! Just thinking about being creative makes me happy. It doesn’t bring me as much joy as actually creating, but it is pretty awesome.

And, of course, after all the prep, I love the doing! Surrounded by supplies. In the zone. Hands covered with paint. Mind buzzing. Spirit soaring.

But, occasionally, I notice less than positive emotions. Sometimes there is a vague sense of angst. Usually it’s when I’m faced with a technique that is new, outside my wheelhouse, or that doesn’t easily mesh with my usual sensibilities. It’s always somewhat surprising to notice the less than positive emotions. I love being creative and artistic, and I’m pretty talented. And yet, I still sometimes feel apprehension, the worry of not being good enough, or the fear of messing it up.

As I notice all my experiences, thoughts and feelings, my mind turn to my students. I want them to experience it all. The positive and the less than positive emotions. I want them to struggle, to think, to fail, to learn, to succeed. I even want them to experience the angst, and the truth that angst can be overcome.

Wondering how I might do that, I am considering these questions:

  • How might we facilitate anticipation, discovery and joy?
  • How might we participate in the excitement of the treasure hunt for ideas and/or supplies?
  • How might we provide inspiration?
  • How might we find the time to allow ourselves to savor the process?
  • How might we structure our time together, to enable more conversation, as artists, regarding our passion, our work and/or our materials?
  • How might we give each other the freedom to adapt a particular technique or project to better fit our own sensibilities?
  • How might we be more aware of thoughts/feelings of angst and fear?
  • How might we better support each other in angst and fear?
  • How might we continue to encourage belief/knowledge of ourselves as capable, awesome artists?

I’m not sure, but I’m wondering ….

 

Note:

My first draft of this blog post had a list of “How might I …?” questions. As I re-read my post, the I was in glaring opposition to the we of creative teams.  Yes, I am the teacher, so, yes, much is up to me. But, we are a creative team – my kindergartners, my colleagues, and I – and it is better that I ask “How might we …?” 

My students teach me, inspire me, problem solve with me, and often see things from an insightful prospective much different than mine. Inviting them into my musing will be beneficial for us all!

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The Power of Language

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Lately I’ve been struck by the profound power of language.

Last night at a mindfulness session someone pointed out the difference between saying: “I am a worrier!” and “I am experiencing worry.”

Do you hear a difference? Do you feel one? They are very similar statements, but the small variations cause large differences in meaning and impact.

The first statement says something about me, and therefore about the possibility of my actions or thoughts. I AM a worrier. If I am a worrier, I have no choice. I worry. If, instead, I am experiencing worry, I have choices. I can notice the worry. I can observe it. I can choose to turn towards the worry and learn from it. I can choose to do something to alleviate it. Or, I can worry, lol.

The point is, the change in my language opens possibilities for me! It gives me options. It creates space to be, and to do.

I share the worry example because it helped me to understand my experience of another rather subtle change in language.

I’m writing an article on creativity and leadership. My editor suggested I change “How might we?” to “How can we?”

What do you think? Say the questions to yourself a few times. What do you experience when you read the questions? Do you notice a difference? Do you have pull or preference for on or the other?

I definitely experience the questions differently, and I have a clear preference!

I am experiencing — in my life and in my practice — that the power of “How might we?” far exceeds the power of “How can we?” Sounds a bit crazy, right? But, it’s not!

“How can we?” offers two options: we can, or, we can’t. That’s it. Too often, when given the choice of can, or can’t we choose can’t.

I can’t do that! I can’t walk a half marathon! I can’t solve that problem. I can’t write a story. I can’t do a multimedia presentation. I can’t pass this test.  I’m not able. There is no way. (sigh)

If we avoid the “I can’t!” quagmire. We may fall into the “I don’t know” trap because”How can we?” suggests we are looking for the correct way to do whatever we are doing. If the person being questioned is at all unsure, this often leads to the answer: “I don’t know.”

In both instances — “I can’t” and “I don’t know” — the problem remains unsolved understanding stagnates, learning is limited, and, perhaps, most tragically, the one questioned is now more convinced than ever that they really don’t know, and they really can’t .

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In contrast, “How might we?” is more flexible and less prescriptive. “How might we?” invites divergent thinking, allowing us to go wide with our answers. Even the uncertain can offer ideas because the “rightness” of the answer is not demanded.

Often the answers which fail, are more valuable than those that immediately succeed. They allow us — demand it actually — to reflect, examine, explore, talk, learn and try again. In this process many positive things happen. To name just a few:

  • Understanding (of ideas, materials, students, ourselves, others) deepens.
  • New strategies emerge.
  • Trust, confidence and relationships grow.
  • Thinking and ideas are valued.
  • New ideas are formed.

The power of simple changes in language is intriguing. I’m super excited by the possibilities of HMW questions, and am working on using them more often in my life, and in my practice.

Give them a try. If you do, I’d love to hear your reflections.