A Good Mess Of Stuff

This will be a short one because I have to catch an early flight back to Seattle . . .

I'm sitting in my hotel room here in Sydney, Australia after spending the better part of three weeks traveling around this country and New Zealand with Niki Buchan, talking to teachers and parents about the way we do early childhood education at Woodland Park, but the truth is that I've probably learned more from them than the other way around. It's been both fun and edifying, and, as it turns out, a toe in the water as I've been asked to return next August by Natasja and Nicole, my incredible hosts from Inspired EC. Next year we plan to visit even more of the country and talk to more people, inspiring and being inspired.

I expect I'll be writing quite a bit over the next few weeks about my thoughts and experiences, telling you some of the stories about my time here, but right now it's all kind of a jumble, a good mess of stuff to reflect upon.

I ran across Marc Armitage while here, presenting and traveling with him for a time. I got to meet and even play with some of my Australian early childhood blogging sisters, Donna and Sherry, the "Irresistible Girls," Jenny Kable of Let the Children Play, and spend some time with Greg Harvey from Males in Early Childhood, Alec Duncan from Child's Play Music, and so many others who have been my virtual friends and allies over these past five years as a blogger.

There's something special going on here and I'm happy to be a part of it. I'm both moved and encouraged about how much passion people have for high quality, progressive, play-based early childhood education. We're everywhere, it seems, all around the globe.

After all this time going about side-by-side with Niki, one would think we would by now be sick of one another, or at least have run out of things to talk about, but yesterday morning in Auckland, the final time we were to sit waiting for our flight to be announced, we began making our plans for the future, finding ourselves getting increasingly excited when we should have been running on fumes.

I'm eager to get home, of course, to my family and school, but I'm happy to know I'm coming back to continue the conversations we've started.

I put a lot of time and effort into this blog. If you'd like to support me please consider a small contribution to the cause. Thank you!

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The Sand Dancer

When Niki Buchan and I arrived yesterday in Christchurch, New Zealand where we will be holding our final Inspired EC presentation/workshop/training on Saturday, we found a stunningly gorgeous day, so we headed for the beach before even checking into our hotel. After a couple hours exploring it was time to find some lunch. We were craving fish and chips, so figured we would stick to the beach drive, heading toward what we would later learn was the New Brighton pier.

As we drove in this place that is halfway around the world from my home, I spotted someone I recognized: a thin little man, wearing a floppy hat, riding a distinctive "chopper" style bike. It was the Sand Dancer! No way! I'd included an inspiring video of this eccentric artist in a post five years ago in the first few months of this blog. I was still in doubt that it could be him even when the pier and the beach looked exactly as I'd remembered it from the video, so I asked the restaurant owner, "Would you know if there is a sand artist who sometimes works on this beach?"

He answered enthusiastically, "He's here from time to time." When I asked if he worked at specific times or on any kind of predictable schedule, he laughed, "It has to do with tides and weather and . . . I think mostly it's up to his mood. No one can predict guys like that." I suppose that's exactly the answer for which I should have hoped: a man still living according to his calling.

As soon as I post this I'm going to be checking the local tide tables and Niki and I are going to hope today is the day. In the meantime I'm re-posting that long ago reflection, complete with the Sand Dancer video. I think you'll like it.

*****

One of the important things I’ve learned about myself, and it took me 40+ years to figure it out, is that I’m not cut out for having a job. Of course, I’ve had jobs, and in every case I’ve eventually grown to resent them. I come to despise the financial hold that jobs have over me, the control they take of my time, and the waste they make of my energy.

It has been a recurring theme that began back in college when I found myself disliking any course that smacked to me of vocational training, while loving my classes with names like “The Sociology of Leisure,” “The Biology of Animal Behavior,” and “Mann, Kafka, Hesse, In Translation.” During my years working for the Greater Seattle Chamber of Commerce, I squirmed around so uncomfortably in the job, that I would arrive at the office at 5 a.m., and leave to go home at 2 p.m., anything apparently to be somehow in charge of my daily life. I grew a beard, wore bow ties and suspenders, and kept a collection of toys in my office, but none of it worked.

I suppose this could simply be written off as immaturity on my part, and maybe it is, but what I’ve come to understand about myself is that I do much, much better in the world when I’m pursuing a “calling” rather than a job.

Most teachers I know, like me, consider their vocation as a calling. The ministers I’ve known feel the same way, as do most of the artists. Indeed there are teachers, preachers, and creative types who’ve managed to make millions, but most of us could easily earn more money elsewhere. We’re not in it for the money, and that’s what makes it a calling rather than a job.

Compulsory public education had its origins in the industrial revolution, and was at its core vocational. As we moved into an age of economic centralization and mass production, commercial interests needed a trained workforce, and for many, maybe most, that’s what education remains today. We go to school ultimately in order to get jobs as doctors, lawyers, accountants or advertising executives. What are you going to be when you grow up? When are you going to declare a major? How are you going to use an English degree? These are all, at bottom, questions about how you’re going to make money.

They are questions about jobs and I've tried, but I find them uninteresting. The question that I’m instead cursed to always return to is: Time is short, how am I spending it? Chasing money seems like the ultimate waste of the only resource we really have.

And I’m not alone:

His art that gets washed away with each tide, and I don’t think this guy is wasting a second of his time.

I put a lot of time and effort into this blog. If you'd like to support me please consider a small contribution to the cause. Thank you!

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A Confession, An Apology, And A Change

I've posted here almost daily since June, 2009. There are over 1350 pieces in the archives, most of which are unique, although there are a few duplicates because I occasionally dig back into the past for posts from the time when I had no readers, freshen them up with new photos or a bit of updated verbiage, then post them anew. I started blogging because I'd written a handful of early childhood related articles for local magazines, newsletters, and whatnot, thought were pretty good, and wanted them to have a place to "live" beyond the paper on which they'd originally been printed. Over the years, however, this has evolved into a place for my reflective practice, a daily opportunity to think through and process what's really going on with me as a teacher, the kids, the families, and the larger world. That anyone bothers to read what I publish here is both a source of surprise and pride.

During the week I give myself about an hour to write before heading off for school (which is why there are, regrettably, so many typos). Sometimes I wake up already knowing my topic, although more often than not, I turn on the machine and whatever comes out is what winds up on this page. Sometimes I'm inspired by the photos I take of our days at school, sometimes by an article link one of my families or a reader has sent me, but usually it's just whatever is on my mind as I prepare for another day. I think that by now my writing is as good as it will ever be, and I'm proud of the shear volume of material I've produced over the past four years.

That said, I'm pretty sucky about the marketing and communication elements of being a blogger. For instance, I know that I'm not as chatty in the comments, either here or on Facebook, as I ought to be if I were really serious about building the "Teacher Tom brand." My email inbox gets clogged and I know I've allowed many good opportunities to slip by, mostly because I'm just flat-out done with staring at the damn computer. I'm sorry if you're someone who has asked me a question, invited me to speak at your conference or write for your website or contribute to your book, requested I take part in your link-up or forum or workshop or documentary, inquired about advertising or an endorsement, or just reached out to me in friendship and camaraderie only to be met with crickets. It's nothing personal and though it be cold comfort, please know I'm grateful. Please also know, I've always made a mental note to get back to you, but in the scramble of priorities that is the life of teaching in three schools and being a father, husband, and son, I've learned that those mental notes aren't really worth much. 

It's occurred to me that if I'm going to get better at these things, I'm will need to approach it like I do the day-to-day writing, and I do want to get better at these things. I really, really like the daily writing part, and it will be hard for me, but my plan is to cut back to producing new posts 4-5 days a week instead of the current 7, using those stolen hours to focus on the cool stuff that's been falling through the cracks. This likely means that I won't be posting on the weekends, although I reserve the right to change that.

I don't know if anyone cares or not, or if anyone who doesn't read this post will even notice that I'm not posting daily (I'm sure I wouldn't if I were a reader), but it will be a big change for me and hopefully give me some of my best early morning fresh brain time to concentrate on some of these other opportunities. 

Thanks.

I put a lot of time and effort into this blog. If you'd like to support me please consider a small contribution to the cause. Thank you!

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