Tag: education

Be a Tolkien Ent: Responsiveness vs. Reactivity in Education and School Counseling

murrayof

Our students are reactive. As educators we are called upon – not to be reactive, but to be responsive. 

A responsive educator posture doesn’t always come naturally, especially when we are confronted with the reactive crisis-sense of a student, or a staff member for that matter. The sense of emergency is contagious. We are deeply attuned to it as fellow humans. Much in the same way that people will react to a snake before they are even consciously aware that they have seen one, we will react to others’ sense of crisis and emergency before we’ve paused to think about the nature of the issue. It is a healthy group survival response, but it is not conducive to developing self-regulation and maintaining a learning environment.

Deliberate responsiveness is the term I use to describe process-oriented, attuned, and thoughtful responsiveness. It is an over-arching theme to nearly everything I advocate for at the intersection of education and mental health. It requires significant practical planning and conceptual reframing to maintain a responsive position. Dr. Jacob Ham describes “learning brain vs. survival brain” in this popular video. To maintain conditions that support students being in learning brain, the adult staff group has to maintain its own collective version of learning brain.

Tolkien provides us with a fantastic and clear example of this with the behavior of the ents -Middle-Earth’s tree-like giants. Tolkien’s ents serve as a model of practicing deliberate responsiveness.

In Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, Frodo’s companions Merry and Pippin find themselves on a side quest recruiting reinforcements for the battle against Saruman’s armies.

They have the good fortune to encounter Fangorn, a tree-like giant. A battle is brewing, and Merry and Pippin’s compatriots are vastly outnumbered. They entreat the powerful Fangorn to help them in battle and to recruit more ents. Fangorn listens carefully, sometimes responding “Now don’t be hasty.”

Fangorn listens and explains at a pace we might associate with “mindful eating.” After much of this slow listening and explaining, he agrees to consider the hobbits’ request. However, he is not going to consider such an important question on his own. He calls a meeting (an entmoot) to consult and decide along with other ents. By using this special name, entmoot, Tolkien signals that this is an established process, not a reaction. The entmoot goes on for three days before they reach a conclusion. 

When reactivity meets process, everything slows down, and crisis-energy is dissipated. 

Tolkien was really on to something, both about human nature and the nature of trees. Real trees live for hundreds of years. They have a system akin to the human nervous system, though one difference is speed. Their electrical signals travel at the slow rate of one inch every three seconds (Wohlleben, 2105, p. 8). Peter Wohlleben’s popular The Hidden Life of Trees describes tree behavior, including their ability to communicate with each other through the air and fungal networks underground. Between their long lives and their rates of internal and external communication, trees are on a very different time scale than humans. Trees are active, but so slowly relative to us as to be unrecognizable without special attention and effort.

As educators and school counselors, we can learn from trees and from Tolkien’s ents. Our students will turn to us reactively, frustratedly, and as desperate as Merry and Pippin begging Fangorn for assistance. We will likely feel activated to join them in their reactivity. But, we can strive to be as different from our students in our response as ents are from hobbits, and as different as trees are from people. 

We can welcome the student’s crisis into the safe, secure, and slow speed of thoughtful adult consideration. We can listen, long and engaged, like Fangorn. We can even use his “hm, hoom” sounds of considered acknowledgment. We can stop and think. And we can tell our students that we will continue to think about the issue they have presented, and we will consult with the other school staff about such a significant challenge. And yes, it may take a while to give this all the thought, consideration, and collaboration it deserves. But, like Fangorn again, we will dependably follow up and follow through.

References 

Tolkien, J. R. R. (1954). The two towers: the lord of the rings part two. Ballantine

Wohlleben, P. (2015). The hidden life of trees; What they feel, how they communicate. Greystone

Informing Students About Observations: My Unpopular Opinion

murrayof

Here’s my unpopular opinion: Students of any age in schools should be notified about formal observations. 

Student observations are a common and important evaluation method in special education. Observations are part of nearly every initial special education evaluation process, as well as many other processes including general progress measurement, re-evals, and as part of placement considerations.

My opinion rests on a few fundamental beliefs:

It is respectful and ethical to inform any person that they are being observed. It is a gesture of respect that most people would appreciate, regardless of whether they are minors.

It is best to maintain a classroom where any and every visitor is identified. A classroom, even a large classroom, is a defined and close group that spends an enormous amount of time together. All non-members who enter the space are noticed by most of the students. -And some students wonder, speculate, and worry about the purpose and intentions of visitors. All the members of the classroom group deserve an introduction of visitors and a brief explanation of their purpose. In my classroom, the student being observed will be aware of the specific purpose of the visitor. Depending on circumstances and the privacy preferences of that student and their parents, it may be appropriate to tell the class that the visitor is here to “see the classroom”. -A truth that respects privacy concerns.

The third fundamental belief I will share is a bit more complex to explain. I often hear the concern that knowledge of the observation might impact the student’s performance during the observation. This is true. We can’t easily measure or correct for the impact of knowledge of the observation on the student’s performance. But we also can’t easily measure or correct for the impact of having an unusual and unexplained person in the room observing. Given these two possibilities, I’d much rather choose the option in which people receive respectful communication.

In research involving minors, the relevant concepts are informed consent and informed assent. In research, it is best practice to obtain informed assent from minors along with informed consent from their guardians. In some cases researchers record the minor’s informed dissent along with their guardian’s informed consent. School observations should be treated with the same respect. A student’s dissent to being observed is valuable information to record in one’s observation, should it go forward.

I recommend informing the student about any upcoming observation some days in advance, and reminding them about it each day leading up to the observation. If the observer is unfamiliar to the student and there is an opportunity to have an introduction before the day of observation, I would recommend that as well. If that is not possible, sharing a picture of the observer will help decrease the uncertainty. I recommend that you simply treat the student with at least the same respect that we understand most people would appreciate being treated with under similar circumstances.

Encountering Distress and Violence in Specialized School Programs

murrayof

The Constrained Psychology of Educators Part 3: Distress, Behavior, and Violence

In my experience in schools, school staff working in specialized programs desperately need to talk about encountering severe distress and being subjected to violence. At the same time, outside of quiet and personal conversations, almost no one wants to talk about the challenges they’ve experienced. Shame, fear, and stigma bring school staff to feel that they can’t or shouldn’t talk about their work. 

This doubly constrains the practice and development of school programming for students with significant social, emotional, and behavioral challenges. My previous two pieces (part 1, part 2) described how the comforting illusion of easy explanations and solutions constrains the thinking and effectiveness of school staff and cuts off the opportunity for deeper understanding and relationship-based therapeutic work.

School staff must protect the privacy of the students and families they work with. This does not prevent discussion of best practices, trends, and more generalized experiences.

The hush-hush tendency is pervasive in all forums, including social media forums otherwise used by professionals of all stripes. It is also evidenced by my book with Laura Balogh being the only book dedicated to the topic, despite the proliferation of “therapeutic programs” (or similarly titled) across thousands of schools nationally and internationally. This is a sad state of affairs and we would much prefer our book to be in conversation with other emerging literature specific to the topic.

Just imagine taking on such an incredibly complex and difficult job, and not discussing it with other professionals. The hush-hush culture stifles development and innovation in programming to the serious detriment of children with significant social, emotional, and behavioral challenges who are being served in schools. 

Within programs supporting students with significant social, emotional, and behavioral challenges it is not unusual for student distress to be expressed through violence toward staff. With unclear laws and regulations regarding physical intervention to maintain safety, and pervasive fear of “getting it wrong” in high-stakes situations where staff is charged with keeping everyone safe, school staff mostly do not want to talk about it outside of quiet conversations with their closest confidants at work. Again, these conversations do nothing to further safer and better practices in the professional field, despite the commonality of the problems faced across school districts. They also do little to slow the destructive high turnover rate for staff in specialized programs, which robs the program and the children of stability. 

While the administrators I am currently collaborating with support my efforts, these same problems are usually present at the administrative level. I’ve known administrators who, surely feeling constrained by pressures of their own, insist that responses to violence are simple and that the laws and regulations are clear. These same administrators do not implement any system for tracking violence against teachers. 

Given the lack of clarity, data, and professional conversation, the trend I observe within specialized programs in schools is the normalization of student violence. This is a huge disservice to everyone associated with the programs, especially the students. We can be compassionate, understanding, and deeply attuned to the distress of students, without normalizing violence. Our society is not accepting of people who express themselves through violence toward others, and we are doing no favors for students by acclimating them to a culture where violence is normalized. 

Here are two effective and important ways to undo these trends: 1. Keep data on violence of any kind. This includes violent threats, attacks, attempted violence, and destruction of property. Keeping this data goes a long way toward preventing a mindset where violence becomes an expected and normal part of the culture. (I have developed a simple system for doing this and I’m happy to share it with you.)  2. While maintaining the privacy of your students and families, seek professional conversation and collaboration with others doing similar work. You likely talk to your direct colleagues – now include people working in other school districts, and even people in different parts of the country and world. While the absence of discussion and development is discouraging, the good news is that the potential for connection and development is immense. 

Where Special Education Law Meets Imposter Phenomenon

murrayof

Constrained Psychology of Educators (and Administrators) Pt 2

In part one I explained how a fundamental idea in school culture – the idea that teachers have the answers – constrains the creativity and effectiveness of educators and counselors. 

This cultural belief pressures teachers and counselors into thinking they should be able to provide easy and effective responses to complex and challenging social, emotional, and behavioral presentations of students. And if they don’t have easy-to-understand solutions ready to implement, they better find them soon! 

You would be hard-pressed to design better conditions for developing imposter phenomenon in school staff. The staff role at this point can become less about improving access to education for students, and more about maintaining an image of knowledgeability and competence to administrators and colleagues.

This constrained thinking runs in opposition to the kind of curiosity, wonder, and patience required to form real relationships and real understanding. I find it fascinating that relationship is a buzzword in educator professional development, but somehow does not have the same cache in the school counseling community.

This school culture problem of feeling pressured to behave as if easy answers are available extends into the individual education program (IEP) process as well. People find reassurance in the idea that special education law is clear and easy to understand, but this is not the case. Important parts of special education law are squishy, unclear, and sometimes not particularly coherent. Unfortunately, you won’t hear very many people acknowledge this truth.

This set of circumstances leaves parents at a disadvantage. They are generally counting on the school’s educators and especially administrators to be expert on the implementation of the law. Educators and administrators often claim, or have come to believe (with the help of a big dose of imposter phenomenon), that the laws are straightforward. 

Many school administrators and staff do not make distinctions between their district policies and practices, and what the law dictates. This all makes for a very confusing and disempowering experience for parents.

Here’s a demonstration of this phenomenon from a conversation in a teacher Facebook community. Someone asked: “How shortly after the IEP meeting should parents receive a copy of the written IEP?” 

A Facebook user responded “All this information is readily available on Google and standardized on the federal level.” receiving a shower of likes and loves for this comforting but incorrect idea.

Here is the actual law, which is not easy to find nor clear to interpret. 

Beyond that, there are separate memorandums from the state regarding the interpretation of the law.

As educators, school counselors, and administrators, we would all be better off to be patient with ourselves, acknowledge complexity and ambiguity – especially when working with parents – and support each other through a complex process.

What Kind of Teacher Doesn’t Know the Answers?

murrayof

spoiler: sometimes not knowing the answers is what makes an educator great

The Constrained Psychology of Educators Part I

I’ve had time to observe many of the psychological pitfalls of being an educator in K-12 schools. The effect is one of constraint, where educators experience a limited scope of what is possible in the classroom. 

My work has been primarily with students in special education programs due to significant social, emotional, and behavioral challenges, and their educators. The intensity of the issues presented by these students bring school culture concerns into clearer focus, but many of these issues are pervasive throughout schools.

The layers of these constraining problems are built on a foundational idea about school: teachers have all the answers. What a reassuring idea! In some parts of school life, it’s true. Your second-grade math teacher has in fact memorized the multiplication tables, and more. 

It can be largely true in more complicated situations as well. Your special education teacher may be able to administer assessments and know quite confidently what reading intervention is likely to be effective. Special education teachers are often amazing.

And then we encounter a student who is really struggling emotionally. This emotional distress is showing up in their behavior and interfering with their access to education, and to some degree even interfering with other students’ access to education. The usual incentives and disincentives for “good student behavior” are ineffective. We have reached a point where we educators no longer know the answers. 

This is a frightening crossroads for many, cutting to the heart of the teacher identity. What kind of teacher doesn’t know the answers?

Blocking out this troubling question, educators seek quick answers, hoping to return to their regular knowledgeable position as quickly as possible. Someone administer an FBA! (Functional Behavioral Assessment) 

Educators are increasingly taught that the answers lie in data. Let me be clear, data is a fundamentally good thing – more information is better than less. But, educators fall prey to the comforting illusion of easy and understandable answers. They feel the pressure of the expectation to be an expert, and an expert teacher (or school counselor) must know the answers. Welcome to perfect storm conditions for imposter phenomenon. 

Children, their families, and classroom groups are complicated. An individual child can’t entirely account for their behavior, thoughts, and feelings. -Nor can we do it on their behalf. We can’t even entirely account for our own behavior! Have you ever done something you intended not to do, or not done something you intended to? Why do you keep doing that?

However, we can move toward deeper understanding together. Part of what Laura Balogh and I advocate for in our book The Therapeutic Inclusion Program is shifting the classroom culture toward curiosity, wonder, and collaboration. We can think about it together. The more we do that, the more we will understand, but we still won’t know all the answers.