Saturday, November 24, 2018

Weeks 10 & 11 - Part 1


·         Week 10 – In the Classroom – November 12 - 16
o   Text: Invisible Classroom: Relationships, Neuroscience & Mindfulness in the Classroom
§  Classroom culture - What's love got to do with it
§  Classroom relationships - summary and conclusion
o   Text: Mindfulness for Teachers: Skills for Peace & Productivity
§  Orchestrating classroom dynamics
o   Blog:
§  Discuss whether the inner life of students and teachers has value in learning
§  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.

1 comment:

  1. Hi Liz,

    I 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

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