Worry is an expression of love

Posted in DemEd in Real LifeParentingTeaching on Nov 05, 2009 - 03:32 PM

As a parent of a ten- and two-year old, I continue to be awed and humbled by what parenting asks of me. Whoever said that raising children is like watching your heart move around outside your body was spot on. As an educator who spends my day with other people's kids, I'm also deeply aware of the ways parents and educators can work and grow together as well as the potential impact when we don't.

I've come to love the worry parents feel and often express (including my own). I didn't start there, but as my kids got older and I found my own anxieties arrive at how my son spent his day, I found myself needing to rethink my responses to worry.

The way I see it, the worry a so called "anxious parent" feels is an expression of love and care. While it might be misguided at times, the root emotions are something to celebrate, not shun. That doesn't mean our worries about our kids, their teachers, or their school's aren't worth challenging, in fact they often need to be, but something powerful can happen when we remember to focus on what is best for each child and their family.

Last year, I got an email from an upset parent about their student's experience at the school I work at. The email was full of strong judgments and worry. I share an excerpt of my response because in writing this parent back I found a deep, reverent, and strong place to respond from. I hope you get something from it:

Dear Steve,

I gave myself last night to sit with and consider your email and the struggles and conversations I've been privy to regarding your experience of the school over the last several months. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the Zen saying that one step towards finding peace in life is to "put an end to ongoing mental lawsuits." I don't condone some of the struggles of our growing school - and certainly not many of the behaviors that arise from time to time amongst our students. They mirror a world that has hate, unkindness, deep sadness, pain, and stupidity in it. In the first two years of the school, I was consistently at odds with the very place I was helping to create. I would often find myself deeply irritated by what I considered to be a lack of staff effort, wisdom, engagement or a lack of student interest, care, or respect. Somewhere along the line, I started to accept (without condoning) the brokenness of our school, other people, and eventually and most deeply - myself. Several of my initial concerns have been resolved. Several others remain. But what has shifted is my perspective on the process of how the school, staff, and students grow and change through time.

I no longer take a single moment (as I once did) and use it to tell/create a story that feeds my bigger struggles. I rarely evaluate each moment or day as I once did - where every day symbolized the "goodness" or "badness" of this school we are creating. I'm committed to the thread that flows from one day to another and to understanding each situation from the many different contexts from which it can be viewed. I've also become more comfortable in my own skin and in taking a stand. I feel clearer about when to do so and when not to - and how to breathe and be softer in all of these situations. I certainly don't have it all figured out - and I still get overwhelmed and frustrated at times. But in general, I have come to peace with where the school is, how it grows, and where it is headed.

You are wrestling each day - perhaps when here each hour - with whether the school is a place you want your precious and wonderful son to grow up in and be impacted by. You are his parents and it is your function to decide what conditions will allow your son to blossom and be well nourished. I don't know him as either of you do and I trust you to do what is best for him based on your deep love of him. I do know that no place or school will be perfect. No place can be all things. This school is full of wonderful people doing wonderful things. This school is committed to the value of people not doing and not doing in wonderful ways. This school is also sometimes broken, slow to change, messy, and immature.

I think you will find more peace here if you can either determine that you can accept what the school is (perhaps even moving to enjoyment or enthusiasm some days) or if you can put down your need to evaluate it consistently for a time (maybe three months of not spending each day debating, making meaning, or getting charged about any particular thing) and then evaluating what you think. Or, you can find peace by allowing yourself to say that this is not the people and attitudes and values you want your son to be surrounded by and growing amongst - and you will withdraw. I will care about all of you either way. But I hope you can move towards one or the other - because honestly (and with love) while the school has its work - much of the irritation and struggle and spark you get when here are yours to work through. I can share this only because it is journey I've traveled myself. I think I'm better for it - and if these kids grow in love and confidence and joy in the ways I have over the course of five years - no amount of tuition or occasional parent frustration is high enough.

With deep love and respect,

Scott

Tags for this entry:
k-12 education, youth-adult relationships, parent involvement, joy of learning, trust, love, experimenting, worry, uncertainty

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