Dear Readers,
I have a confession. I have no pictures to share, not because we have been boring, but because we have been present. So, with big promises to provide future photos soon, I write to you with simple reflections instead.
This is one of those times when the chaos threatens to reign, with lists and social engagements and lots of trying to finish just that one last project before we pause. And in the rush to pause, we drive ourselves into the frenzy. We create some version of perfect and just right and then claim failure when we cannot possibly meet our own unrealistic expectations. Rush. Frenzy. Perfection. Failure. They have the potential to be the stealers of our presence....
The frenzy in middle school includes:
American Revolution unit
Finishing Chains
Pizza
Making spa products
Skateboarding (that was sooo fun!)
Designing a community coffee cafe!
Preparing for a Socratic discussion
Making wreaths
Weaving
Math tests. Yes, Testsss.
Set planning
Play writing
Set making
Journals
Costume making
Play implementation
Did I mention THE PLAY??? That we wrote our very own play????
Due to the frenzy, my personal ability to focus has diminished. I find myself distracted, starting multiple tasks, only to remember something else I left undone. There have been days where I have left school feeling less efficient, less productive, as if there has been a secret measure of some sort that I have not met. We can - and by "we" I mean "me" - trap ourselves in some fictional standard that we have silently proclaimed for ourselves.... That standard of perfection, of making sure all the frenzy, in the end, looks pristine and lovely and neat.
But this year, in the midst of it all, the middle school students have pulled me out of that lull, of that need for perfect everything. We are busy. We have work to accomplish. And they have ownership in all things happening in the loft. And when it comes to intercession, well. They are embracing this play with enthusiasm. With a brand new drama teacher thrown in during November for good measure, middle schoolers have written and planned and tried and failed fabulously. And then made adjustments and tried again. This year, merely due to circumstance, the students have created their performance from scratch. And instead of memorizing lines and songs and creating sets from templates, they are engaged, writing and rewriting, planning and processing and starting over. Watching them birth with this year's production has been truly enjoyable. In letting go of perfect, they are creating and learning. They are stretching. They are growing.
This is my third year. Each performance so far has been chaotic fun, and I have gotten teary every time. So, please don't take my joy this year to mean previous years were anything less than fabulous. Maybe I'm just finally relaxing into the heart of DGS or maybe this year really is different. But this time they are having fun. FUN. They are deep in the weeds, and the experiments are happening, and the education from all the stuff is clicking. It really is. Clicking.
So I'm letting go of the frenzy and the perfection. I'm breathing. Pausing. Watching. Smiling. And I wish the same for you.
I hope when you come to watch your students on stage, you can see the process behind the production. That in these moments when they step into the light, the chaos of December stays at bay, and you truly enjoy the presence of their creative efforts. You notice the care they took in cutting and building and painting sets. In designing costumes or choreographing their own dance moves. You catch the engineering conundrum solved in making a moving fire that can be seen forty feet away. You recognize their courage in speaking out loud to a full auditorium, especially for our quiet ones. That you sense their desire to get it right. To do their best. And - most importantly - to do it themselves.
I hope you find yourself so present, that maybe even you forget to take pictures.
Peace,
Patricia
P.S. I've heard rumors of a video, so we have a backup plan. No worries!
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