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Week 10 – In the Classroom – November
12 - 16
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Text: Invisible Classroom: Relationships, Neuroscience & Mindfulness in
the Classroom
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Classroom
culture - What's love got to do with it
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Classroom
relationships - summary and conclusion
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Text: Mindfulness for Teachers: Skills for Peace & Productivity
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Orchestrating
classroom dynamics
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Blog:
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Discuss
whether the inner life of students and teachers has value in learning
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Justify
the practicality of mindful education.
In
addition to capturing major takeaways from the chapters above, I will address
1) whether the inner life of students and teachers has value in learning, and 2)
the practicality of mindful education.
In “Classroom Relationships: What’s Love Got to Do with It?” in Invisible Classroom, Olson’s spent a good amount of time on attachment theory or ‘style’ – how humans connect to each other, most specifically during the critical first years of life.
The
different attachment styles are
listed as:
Secure attachment – these securely attached students,
with “caring and consistent parents have developed the neural networks to
expect helpful attention from adults, and they have developed ways to
effectively elicit that help” (p. 62).
Avoidant attachment – a result of a parent’s
disconnection from the emotional life within the home, or the child, or both, these
students, who are very much used to going it alone, will “not care much about
you (as the teacher) and may have a tendency to become angry but might be
interested in the academic content of the class. If academics were the only
concern, some of the avoidantly attached students might be ideal students” (p.
62).
Anxious/ambivalent attachment – these young children had learned
that their parent’s availability was unpredictable, so adapted by watching them
closely. These students “likely will be overly concerned about you, may seem
clingy, and might worry you can be trusted” (p. 62)
Disorganized/disoriented attachment – when a parent is seen as
frightened or frightened, the child’s attachment can become disorganized. For
the student with this attachment style, they may “react to you in various
confused and emotionally dysregulated ways, particularly when they are under
stress” (p. 62)
The last
three styles are known collectively as insecure
attachment. Olson stated that “students with insecure attachments are more
vulnerable to anxiety and perform poorly on tests, not because they don’t know
the material but because their insecure attachment makes them less able to
manage the anxiety that is a normal part of final exams, school, and life in
general” (p. 62).
This is
all very important information to understand, as it can be the key to why a
student may be acting in certain ways. Olson said that “insecurely attached children
will make up a third to half of your students depending upon the community” (p.
63). In thinking about the classroom I work in, I can certainly see that it is
more likely 60 – 70% insecurely attached. I have always had much patience with
anyone trying to learn and fit into a group, however, this motivates my patience
even more. Further, Olson suggests that disconfirming
experiences (purposely acting in a way unexpected by the student, i.e. a
teacher being warm and caring instead of harsh and demanding) “may contribute
to a change in a student’s attachment style” (p. 65). However, he cautions that
it is not simply neuroplasticity in this case, but something far more
foundational, and likely more difficult to change.
In
thinking about the question of whether the inner
life of teachers or students has value in learning, I would wholeheartedly
say yes. We are not compartmentalized
beings, we are holistic beings and every experience changes who we are, and how
we interpret the world. To even consider that what happens outside the school,
or inside a student or teacher, does not make an impact on learning is sheer
folly and foolishness. People of all ages need to feel valued and respected in
their whole-selves, and to say that their inner life has no value in the learning
process is wrong-headed and shallow. We need all of our experiences, together,
to brainstorm new solutions to problems we face – together. As whole people.
Not as just the teacher-part. Or the student-part. Or the administrator-part.
That is inauthentic.
One last
takeaway from Olson’s book that I thought was valuable: he reminded me of Dan Siegel’s
example of the “river of integration [that] flows between two banks of chaos
and rigidity. The chaos is caused by differentiated parts with no connection,
and the rigidity is caused by connection that ignores individual differences”
(p. 181). I use this metaphor in my own life to keep to the middle way, so I
was happy to see it referenced here. In a school setting, Olson said, “The
truth for excellent, experienced teachers is that their teaching during times
of creative discussion probably drifts toward the bank of chaos and during
times when students must be taught something that requires repetition and drill
may drift toward the bank of rigidity. A healthy
classroom that fosters integration among the students intentionally flows a
winding course” (p. 181). For my purposes, I never have to steer the class
closer to the bank of rigidity, but we certainly could get shipwrecked
on the bank of chaos, if I am not careful. Teaching mindfulness to this wiggly
group is like herding cats most of the time, (but oh-so rewarding!). Olson
suggested focusing on student (and teacher) strengths and keeping my own
mindfulness practice fresh – “mindfulness is a personal practice that can be
the keel that keeps your boat steady in
the center of the river” (p. 183).
Olson’s
book, Invisible Classroom, is a
wonderful resource. I will be sharing it with the faculty when I give my
presentation in December.
Just a few
thoughts on the practicality of mindful
education:
I believe
mindfully doing anything, education or otherwise, is practical. Doing something
with your full attention can prevent many clumsy, multi-tasking mistakes. Doing
those tasks without judgment, also, can be a form of self-care. Modeling that
behavior of authenticity for students is absolutely priceless. No one needs to be
perfect for students or anyone else, for that matter. Further, the students
should not feel that they need to ‘tow the line’ at school constantly, as if
they were an animal. Humans are imperfect, and they need to know that they are
still valuable regardless of their strengths and weaknesses. Mindful practice
helps everyone take a breath and look and interact with each other with respectful
care. I liked this quote from Jennings, “we can set up great management systems
involving guidelines and limits, but if our students don’t trust and respect us
(or think we don’t respect them), we’re in for some challenges” (p. 148). I
would suggest that teacher would be in for more than just challenges, but a hard year.
Respect is the grease of relationships. Without it, things seize up pretty
awful.
I will devote the next post to the
research for weeks 10 and 11, and consider the relationship between mindful
principles/practices and learning/scholarship.
Hi Liz,
ReplyDeleteI really like how you put that, “Respect is the grease of relationships.”
The attachment styles are helpful in understanding the why behind student behaviors. As a person who relates with a form of insecure attachment, I want to also offer the idea that anxiety can propel some students to perform well in the game of school by using their anxiety to fuel their efforts.
Justifying the place of mindfulness in education is definitely a frequent endeavor. It makes sense in a world where people are obsessed with “best practices” for learning. What if there aren’t best practices, but rather, different practices or appropriate practices? If mindfulness helps us to be more aware of our contexts and how we respond in them, I think that’s the most practical promise it has.
Thanks for continuing to engage so deeply with education and mindfulness!
Best,
Julie