We are Failing our Kids…

https://www.inc.com/amy-morin/10-reasons-american-teenagers-are-more-anxious-than-ever.html

I read the attached article this past weekend and it struck a nerve deep within my soul. As a person deeply committed to education and the “success”, however it might be personally defined, of young people in this society and worldwide, I have seen the truthfulness of these words in devastating effect. However, what might not be so clearly apparent is that we are creating anxiety in our children because, we as adults, are lacking the ability to deal with stress and anxiety for many of the exact same reasons. It seems highly unlikely, almost inevitable, that if we feel anxiety in our own lives and lack the skills and abilities to effectively handle the anxiety and move forward in a positive manner, that we have any chance of effectively helping our kids not to feel the exact same anxieties in their own lives.

In my limited experience in education and dealing with young people in a school setting, I can state with certainty, if we truly are interested in helping our sons, our daughters, our students, our future, the work needs to begin within ourselves. There is no way I can effectively help a young person or offer any assistance in dealing with anxiety if I don’t have the ability to effectively handle my own anxiety.

Our kids are feeling anxiety because we are feeling anxiety. If we truly care about the young people in our own families and schools and the societies in which we live, we need to be certain we are setting the examples and living the lives that will benefit our children in very real ways. Just don’t tell our kids how not to feel anxious, show them.

 

An equation for change…

Yesterday, I was speaking with a young student of color at the school where I work and I was wondering why he didn’t feel very motivated to do much of the work in school. In speaking with this young man, I began to realize that he felt he was part of a system  that had very little to offer him, whether he tried or not. After all, he is a young black man in America; and to be honest, it is difficult to look around this country right now and see much hope for any, whatever tone your skin might radiate. I also realized that if it was not possible to get this young man motivated to succeed in his education, his doubts about his future are likely to become a reality.

This got me thinking. How is it possible to motivate young students in primary level education to care about their own education? This is all I could come up with…

If you want to change the system in which you play a part, you need power. If you want to have power in this world, you are going to need money (at least enough to support yourself) and influence. The amount of money and influence any person has in this world is usually directly correlated to the knowledge they possess. The best type of knowledge is wisdom; and wisdom allows us, as human beings, to wield power, money and influence in the ways possible that best benefit ourselves and humankind to the greatest extent. Wisdom, however, is wholly dependent on education. Education from school. Education from family. Education from friends and the education from the society in which we live.

Education is power. Power is change. Education is the key to any change in society.

I don’t know if I will be able to convince my young friend that education is important, but I will never stop trying, because he, and all my students, are important to me. Lastly, whatever wisdom I might possess in my lifetime, I want to use to create the change I most desire. Hope, for all.

The Edge

You will never know all the battles an individual is fighting. Be kind, compassionate, seek to understand and never be afraid to offer a smile. There is often no way to tell those of us standing “at the edge”.

A few hundred yards in front of me I could see the open water, a threatening black; an ominous warning framed against a thousand different shades of grey of which most wintry days in Wisconsin are made. Although the ice had begun to melt and there were some hints that another springtime would make an appearance sooner than later, on this day there was a strong wind and enough bite in the air to freeze the tears upon my cheeks before they had a chance to join the ice beneath my feet. The wind-crusted snow crunched beneath the shit-kicker boots I always wore at this time of my life and formed perfect prints leading from the shore of the life I used to know to the open water now before me. I remember thinking, looking back at the prints of those boots, my prints, my life, how appropriate it was that the coming spring would wash everything clean, everything anew. Nothing would remain.

No pain. No tears. No more suffering. No more dirty shit-kicker bootprints to blemish the world in which I did not belong.

The tears swimming in my eyes began to blur the differing shades of grey upon the horizon into one thick blanket, slashed across the middle by the slow-moving blackness of the open water that cut the huge expanse of frozen water into two huge slabs.  A hundred yards away. Just. Keep. Walking.

Something was wrong. This was not the way things were supposed to happen. I was an athlete. I was smart. I was handsome. I had lots of friends. I had a good family who loved me. The world had been kind to me and my future looked promising. In my sophomore year, my dad had taken me to the west coast so we could tour USC, UCLA, and Pepperdine University. Penn State and Columbia were also being considered. I was not supposed to want to die.

My legs were saying no. They would carry me no further. Everything within my body and soul was saying NO by now. My eyes were so continuously soaked with tears I could only see grey, black and the diamond-like sparkle of the paper thin ice dancing just above the cumbersome current that moved below. I remember the heat of my body disappearing; as if my body was trying to prepare itself to welcome that first icy breath that would not contain the proper mixture of oxygen and nitrogen and all the other components that had once sustained my life. I stood thirty yards from the edge. Waiting.

CRACK! The ice broke. My heart stopped. My legs faltered and I began to fall.

The amount of noise that a large piece of ice can create as it breaks up in the springtime is shocking. Terrifying, actually. I can still remember that moment. Everything stopped; the tears, the crying, my breathing, my heart. I think I may have suffered my first mini-heart attack, and I was only 17. I was going to die.

The ice I was standing on had not broken. But the ice all around me was breaking up.

I walked onto the ice that day not wanting to live any longer. I didn’t want to die. I just didn’t want to live anymore. I wanted to disappear. I didn’t want to be weak anymore. I didn’t want to hurt anymore. I didn’t want to hurt the ones I loved anymore. I didn’t want to be a failure anymore. I didn’t want to pollute the world with my fucked-up teenager thinking anymore. I didn’t want to cry, to scream, to rage anymore. To feel pain. To be so awkward. Unwanted. Unneeded. Worthless.

I was 17 years old on the day I walked to the ice’s edge. The ice didn’t want me that day and the world had plans for me that I could never have known. I am grateful.

The thing of it is though, even now, at 43 years old, I am NEVER that far from “the edge”. I am destined to dance along its periphery, and this is something of which I must always deal, along with so many others.

Why I write…

This blog and these words are for anyone currently in the world of high school and for those who may have already finished high school but can still remember…

I choose to share these words because I remember how difficult high school was for myself, and how at certain times, I felt totally alone and lost and maybe (I was pretty stubborn and still probably would have fought any advice people offered) would have benefitted if someone I could respect had offered some similar stories. I don’t know if these stories will make a difference. Hell, I am not even sure if anybody will read these stories, but they are offered.

I offer these stories freely and with an open heart. I offer these stories because I worry about the students with whom I work and all the students around the world I do not know, who simply might just need to hear, “It is going to be alright.” I write because it makes me feel better to look back and see so many obstacles and to know I still overcame. I write to give hope and confidence that they can overcome also. I write because I worry about the world that we all share and want to try and make it a better place than it is today. I write because I feel that stories create that most delicate of threads that links us all, and I want to be part of that connection. I write because I can… I share because I want to… I need to…

Thank You, Students…

When I was a teacher at a university in China, I used to become very frustrated when my students would say, “But I am just one person. I can’t make a difference. There is nothing I can do.” I worked closely with many highly educated, ambitious and very capable young people. I could not understand how such talented and promising young students could feel such despair, despondency about their ability to shape their own future and change things for the better. It never made sense to me… until recently.

The last few weeks, the world has overwhelmed me. I have wanted to run and hide. I have felt helpless and hopeless about the world in which I live and about my ability to make the world a better place.

I do not like feeling helpless. I do not wish to remain hopeless. I am neither of these.

In talking with some friends this past weekend I was reminded how lucky I really am. I have a job that I love and I am surrounded by the creative, chaotic, crazy, frenetic, mostly laughing mixed with some tears madness that makes up the world of the American teenager. I am surrounded by these kids daily and I love it.

Thank you, students. EVERY student. And please know this, if there is any help I can give, if there is any hope I can offer, all you need to do is ask. It will be done, to the best of my abilities, because we will all need help at some time and we all deserve to feel hopeful about the future.

Forgiveness…

Even though these words were written a while ago, due to recent events throughout the world, these words seem more relevant and appropriate today… at least to me. It also seems that if any “solutions” to the “problems” we all face are possible; forgiveness, compassion, kindness and a shared sense of humanity will prove much more valuable than any force, weapons or military strength one might possess. I would be interested in any comments on this article.

Another person will only try to hurt you when they are feeling badly about themselves, or otherwise threatened, not so different from the rest of the animal kingdom with whom we share this Earth.

 If one can believe all humans act only in ways they believe benefit themselves, forgiveness is easy. True forgiveness, or forgiveness that once again gives back the ability and power to an individual to control their own thoughts and actions without sacrificing any control to another for a perceived transgression against oneself, relies solely on the acceptance that all human beings are living the best lives they believe possible. If this statement can be understood and accepted, it is possible that the idea of forgiveness will actually not even be necessary. As an individual, you will understand that others are simply doing what they believe is best for themselves at any given moment, and it is solely up to you to interpret how you perceive these actions. In other words, if another tries to purposefully hurt you, they take this action because they believe it will benefit themselves. You will also realize that another individual can only cause you harm if you choose to allow them to cause you harm.  If it is true that others can not cause you harm, there is no need to forgive any of their actions.

As human beings, we are all fragile and susceptible to our own personal insecurities and character flaws. Because of these insecurities and character flaws, every one of us will judge ourselves as failing at some aspect or many aspects of life at many different moments throughout our lives. Although there are many different and varied reasons that we choose to try and harm another human, this feeling of inadequacy is the most prevalent and pervasive. When we feel inferior and inadequate as human beings, we will often seek out opportunities to rid ourselves of this feeling. The most common and ill-fated method to deal with feelings of insecurity and inadequacy is to attack another, in order to bring them down to our own level of insecurity or to build ourselves up to a false and fleeting sense of superiority.

Each of us, as individual human beings, attack another because we believe it will improve our own lives in some way. Even though the intent of one’s actions may be to cause harm to another human being, the driving force behind any action is to improve one’s own life. “Improve” being a concept that must be considered very liberally. For example, if we are feeling badly, and we can make another feel as badly, many of us might consider this an “improvement”. “Misery loves company” sort of thinking. In many circumstances, “improvement” should not be equated with correct or good or right.

People do what they believe is best for themselves. Sometimes what we believe is best for ourselves involves trying to harm another. However, as mentioned before, each of us can only be harmed by another if we allow ourselves to be harmed. If we can not be harmed by another, the need for forgiveness is negligible.

However, all of us will be harmed. Forgiveness is necessary. Even though all of us will be harmed, others are not trying to harm us, at least directly. Every action every human takes is an effort to “improve” their own life.  If you can understand and accept this premise as true, forgiveness of another’s actions should be simple and automatic. If you are harmed, it is only by your interpretation and acceptance of these actions as “harmful”. With a little understanding, another’s actions can be interpreted and accepted many different ways, and forgiveness will always be possible.

 

Perception

There once was a boy, who happened to be blind, swinging on the playground at his school. As this boy sat swinging, a few yards away was another boy making funny faces and directing rude gestures toward the blind boy on the swing, as the other kids on the playground laughed and pointed as well. The boy making faces did not like the boy on the swing and could not understand that even though the other boy was blind, the blind boy always received better grades than him and was well-liked by the teachers and his classmates.

Swinging next to the blind boy was a lovely young girl, a classmate of both boys. As she watched the boy making faces and rude gestures, she felt sorry for the blind boy because he could not “see” the other boy making fun of him. She felt pain because children can be so cruel and she felt anger toward the boy making fun and her other classmates who were afraid to stand-up to this boy. She felt despair because her blind friend would never be able to “see” the world as it really is.

As the blind boy sat swinging, he smiled silently to himself. He could hear his classmates laughing and doing all the things that children do, and he could “see” the ground below his feet, and knew the pavement would be there to greet him whenever he decided to stop. As he continued to swing higher and faster, he felt the rush of the wind racing against his face and moving each hair upon his head and he experienced the strength of his own fingers as they wrapped around the ice-cube like chains. He pumped his legs in a rhythm that only his body knew, and he took flight across skies his classmates may never know. He felt thankful for the laughter of his classmates, the wisdom of his teachers, the warmth of his friends and the safety of his family. He felt especially thankful for all that he could “see” from the perch of his very own swing.

In this life, we are all in control of what we “see” and to what we pay attention. It is a choice. If one wishes to pay attention to the bullies and the negative situations which life will always offer, there is nothing to stop you. However, there is also nothing to stop you from taking a ride on your own magical swing and “seeing” things that make you feel thankful and happy. Choose wisely.

Benefits of Anxiety and Depression?

I am graced with a daily opportunity to work with some students so “paralyzed” by a fear and/or anxiety, that permeates every day they are in school, and probably out of school as well, that they are often unable to even enter a classroom in which they belong, much less function at an acceptable level. I enjoy working with these students and work to try and give them the abilities to create the success of which they are capable. But I also find myself asking questions, “What differentiates these students from the other students who roam the halls in this school?” “Does not every student, in fact, every teacher, every human being that has ever roamed these halls, not also experience anxiety?” “Why are some people able to overcome, or at least effectively deal with, the anxiety they experience and some become literally “paralyzed?”

I can not speak personally to anxiety. Actually, if you were ever to meet me in person, I would probably never admit to ever having any feelings of stress, anxiety, hopelessness, inferiority, desperation, or any other “feelings” or “effects of feelings” that might be considered as negative in any way. However, I do have these feelings and thoughts. There is no way to deny this. There are days when I find it hard to physically get out of bed because my body is too heavy and my mind has become like jello left too long in the sun. There have been many weekends in my life, probably even weeks, that I have willingly contained myself within a room or an apartment, unable to physically, mentally and emotionally walk out the door. If I am honest, I deal with depression more than I will ever admit. However, because of this invisible struggle (I hope it is invisible), I am a better person.

Why do I deny experiencing depression in my life? What if the majority of the negative effects I experience from depression (a lack of focus and energy, a general inability to deal with average life tasks and a background irritability that is not generally present) are generated simply because I “feel bad about feeling bad?” The physiological and psychological effects of depression and anxiety are certainly real and are not disputed here in any way. I am only asking if the problems and difficulties caused by these conditions are exacerbated simply because myself and others “think and feel” like we should not experience these conditions. To me personally, if I admit to experiencing depression, it feels like I am admitting to being weak and “less than” a person who may not deal with such a condition.

I live in a neighborhood right next to a beautiful lake. I often take walks around the lake. The other day I “forced” myself out the door of my apartment because it had been a tough week and I had been in “hibernation mode” for too long. In walking around the lake, I saw ladies talking faster than they were walking, which was impressive, because they were walking pretty fast. I saw men on their cell phones conducting business that simply “could not wait.” I saw runners, checking their Fitbits, in order to confirm their “healthy status” for the day. I saw a child in a stroller, faceless, because all I could see was the iPad blocking all interaction with the world outside his (maybe a boy, maybe a girl) stroller.

I also saw myself. As I was walking around the lake, I realized something I had never realized before. Feeling a “bit down” was a blessing. I was alone. I had time. I had no responsibilities and I had many opportunities. I was free. Free to notice the actual serenity of the lake which I am privileged to live so near. Free to walk at the pace I set. Free to notice that Fall is an inevitability, no matter how nice the Summer has been. Free to see leaves that were no longer green but had begun to burn colors, vibrant colors, other than green. Free to think, my own thoughts, whatever they might be, without the burden of having to express them to another. Free to feel grateful. Free to be thankful…

I became thankful for the sadness that had so limited my access to this outside world in the last few days. As I (forcefully) walked around this lake on a beautiful day, I experienced a sincere thankfulness for being me: sad me, happy me, free me, all of me. I am the person I am today, the person I want to be, because I suffer from moments of depression in my life. There is value in these moments. Because I suffer from depression, I am empathetic. I am patient. I am a good listener. I have time to think. I am ok being alone. I appreciate beauty. I value my relationships. I am good at my job. The list goes on. Because I suffer, I am better. Depression actually allows me to be a better person, and for this I am thankful.

Happiness

Rather than spend your time searching for someone or something to bring you happiness, go create your own. With this happiness, search instead for someone or something with whom to share it.