Dear friends,
I want to pass along to you a couple of quotes and a thought-provoking phrase that is actually a customary greeting of the Masai of South Africa. The quotes both speak to the element of time with regard to teaching and relationships. And the greeting is a vast improvement over the commonly heard "How's it going?" or "How are you?" -- the habit most people fall back on that generally lead to rather unsatisfying conversations.
The first quote came to me in a note Michael sent to me over the holidays. It read:
If you plan for a decade, plant trees,
If you plan for a century, work with children.
The author of this little gem was listed as anonymous (which usually means that it was a woman) but regardless, it's a short-and-sweet reminder of the importance and long-lasting affect of the work in which we are engaged. I also love the connection to nature and how placing the work of teachers alongside that of gardeners reminds us of the foolishness of trying to control time and the un-naturalness of rushing children through childhood. The gardener sows, waters, weeds, watches and patiently waits. The effect on children of the frantic pace of our hurried world seems to take the bloom off of what otherwise should be the gradual blossoming of childhood existence -- for all children.
Here's another eloquent quote, which is also one of my favorites. The author -- Antoine de Saint Xupery:
Old friends cannot be created out of hand. Nothing can match the treasure of common memories, of trials endured together, of quarrels and reconciliations and generous emotions. It is idle, having planted an acorn in the morning, to expect that afternoon to sit in the shade of the oak.
Occasionally I ask parents, "What do you want for your child?" and "What scares you?" These questions are commonly responded to with, "I want them to be happy" or "I worry that my child won't have any friends." As we watch the kids at our school developing friendships as they play alongside each other, we see even at this young age that relationships have their share of breakdowns and patch-ups. And, of course we are there to help guide them, but sometimes I wonder if we work as hard as we should on our adult relationships -- the ones the children witness? Meaningful friendships are going to have their ups-and-downs if they are ever going to arrive at "old friend." By not allowing conflict a place "to be" in early childhood centers, are we interfering with young children's chance to practice "trials endured" and "generous emotions?" What exists in far too many places is conflict removal rather than resolution. Are we asking of our young children the kind of hard work we are unable or unwilling to do ourselves and keeping them from acquiring the very tools they need to develop into decent people?
"So, how are the children?" ("Ke biot ingera" or "kasserian ingera") This wonderful greeting comes to us from the Masai people. It's the traditional greeting that takes place between Masai warriors and acknowledges the importance they place on the welfare of their children -- even if they don't have children of their own! That the safety and protection of the young and powerless is at the forefront of their people's thoughts is a model all people should adopt. 'So, how are the children?' feels so much better to me than 'No Child Left Behind' unless of course you include the last part of the sentence that phrase comes from. The poem Marion Wright Edleman penned finishes the 'no child left behind' thought with "and every child is loved, and every child is safe." The essence of the hope she wrote about comes through to me in the greeting, "So, how are the children?"
This phrase became better known when it was used as the subject of a sermon around 15 years ago. The question then arose, "What if it became tradition that the first thing asked of a President at a press conference were, 'So, how are the children?'"
Imagine that.
Love,
[Annonymous] (posted without permission)
I want to pass along to you a couple of quotes and a thought-provoking phrase that is actually a customary greeting of the Masai of South Africa. The quotes both speak to the element of time with regard to teaching and relationships. And the greeting is a vast improvement over the commonly heard "How's it going?" or "How are you?" -- the habit most people fall back on that generally lead to rather unsatisfying conversations.
The first quote came to me in a note Michael sent to me over the holidays. It read:
If you plan for a decade, plant trees,
If you plan for a century, work with children.
The author of this little gem was listed as anonymous (which usually means that it was a woman) but regardless, it's a short-and-sweet reminder of the importance and long-lasting affect of the work in which we are engaged. I also love the connection to nature and how placing the work of teachers alongside that of gardeners reminds us of the foolishness of trying to control time and the un-naturalness of rushing children through childhood. The gardener sows, waters, weeds, watches and patiently waits. The effect on children of the frantic pace of our hurried world seems to take the bloom off of what otherwise should be the gradual blossoming of childhood existence -- for all children.
Here's another eloquent quote, which is also one of my favorites. The author -- Antoine de Saint Xupery:
Old friends cannot be created out of hand. Nothing can match the treasure of common memories, of trials endured together, of quarrels and reconciliations and generous emotions. It is idle, having planted an acorn in the morning, to expect that afternoon to sit in the shade of the oak.
Occasionally I ask parents, "What do you want for your child?" and "What scares you?" These questions are commonly responded to with, "I want them to be happy" or "I worry that my child won't have any friends." As we watch the kids at our school developing friendships as they play alongside each other, we see even at this young age that relationships have their share of breakdowns and patch-ups. And, of course we are there to help guide them, but sometimes I wonder if we work as hard as we should on our adult relationships -- the ones the children witness? Meaningful friendships are going to have their ups-and-downs if they are ever going to arrive at "old friend." By not allowing conflict a place "to be" in early childhood centers, are we interfering with young children's chance to practice "trials endured" and "generous emotions?" What exists in far too many places is conflict removal rather than resolution. Are we asking of our young children the kind of hard work we are unable or unwilling to do ourselves and keeping them from acquiring the very tools they need to develop into decent people?
"So, how are the children?" ("Ke biot ingera" or "kasserian ingera") This wonderful greeting comes to us from the Masai people. It's the traditional greeting that takes place between Masai warriors and acknowledges the importance they place on the welfare of their children -- even if they don't have children of their own! That the safety and protection of the young and powerless is at the forefront of their people's thoughts is a model all people should adopt. 'So, how are the children?' feels so much better to me than 'No Child Left Behind' unless of course you include the last part of the sentence that phrase comes from. The poem Marion Wright Edleman penned finishes the 'no child left behind' thought with "and every child is loved, and every child is safe." The essence of the hope she wrote about comes through to me in the greeting, "So, how are the children?"
This phrase became better known when it was used as the subject of a sermon around 15 years ago. The question then arose, "What if it became tradition that the first thing asked of a President at a press conference were, 'So, how are the children?'"
Imagine that.
Love,
[Annonymous] (posted without permission)