A former student showed up to visit this week and with her was a friend who had not been a student at our school. We had a lovely visit, talking about the past and the future, and wandering through the hallways of our incredibly beautiful building. The friend was blown away by the light, the space, the furniture, the colors and the newness of our school. "My middle school was not this nice," she remarked.
My immediate family is fortunate in our academic and professional places. My older son works at an arboretum, which we not-jokingly refer to as "the most beautiful place on earth." It's filled with plants, space, structures and light that are all designed to bring beauty and peace. My younger son is working towards his PhD in applied mathematics in Hoboken, New Jersey. Each time I visit him there I am in a awe of the Hudson River and all the buildings and lights and walkways that support human wonder. And, of course, my school was designed to keep middle school students comfortable, curious and free to create and learn things. Each of us is privileged with place.
Seeing my place though the eyes of a person who's school experience was more typical and, perhaps, bland, gave me an appreciation of room 206 and SLA-MS in general. When you have daily views of magnificent gardens, the Empire State Building or a brand new classroom that no one has taught in besides you, it is easy to forget to feel grateful and in awe of your surroundings. While this complacency may be human nature, it is not something we should allow ourselves to do.
I say kids all the time when I see them doodle on a table or mishandle a ruler, "I don't come to your house and write on your furniture. Why would you that here?" Kids are taken aback by the idea that our classroom is, in a way, our home. I do spend many hours per week therein and as I am teaching class, I am usually also wiping off a table or tidying a bookshelf or sweeping someone's Taki's off the floor. I fuss at kids to push in their chairs when they leave and hang up their backpacks, rather than leave them on the floor.
It matters to me that we have a clean and happy place in which to learn. And yet, rarely do I have the kids pause and appreciate the beauty of our surroundings. Humans crave beauty and we frequently forget to appreciate the beauty that is inherent in day-to-day living or the beautifully designed space that is our workplace.
Let's not. Just as we stop to say, "wow, the Statue of Liberty looks so cool at night from I-78" or "that might be the prettiest flower garden I have ever seen," we should stop math class to say, "look how the sun is streaming in through the window" or "check out how the trees are starting to bud in the school yard" or even "Mr Raheem really cleaned our window well and you can see everything that's happening in the hallways - wow."
We take care of the places that take care of us. I wonder if kids would be less likely to doodle on our tables or leave their Taki's on the floor if we were better at reminding them how lucky we are to have this amazing place in which to learn. Take some time this week to notice what is lovely and life-giving in your place. Stop what you are doing, admire the beauty and tell someone else about it. Maybe, even take a picture so you remember to be grateful for it later. Being intentional in this way might not change the world, but it will give you a better appreciation for the place you're in.
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