Thursday, May 26, 2016

If only they lived near The Country School…

'Let My Kids Be Kids': After Slight, Mom Pens Permanent Tree Climbing Permission Slip

Here at The Country School, many of us have been captured by this heartfelt plea from a mother whose children were prevented from climbing a tree on their school campus. As a school that commits substantial time each day for outside play – before school, during recesses, after lunch, during outdoor PE class, and after school – The Country School applauds this mother’s perspective.

It’s almost impossible to set foot on The Country School campus without hearing joyful noise emanating from some outdoor space. Maybe it’s a group of 5th Graders, inspired by their study of ancient Egypt, gleefully recreating a muddy Aswan dam by a stream in the woods. Or perhaps it’s a collection of students from multiple grades collaborating on one of the structures that surround the perimeter of campus. Or maybe it’s just a good, old-fashioned game of kickball.   




Each day, as I watch our 3 and 4 year olds at pick-up time – and even their younger siblings! – climb up on the rocks by the front entrance and jump off them, I have remarked how trusting and happily "old-fashioned" our Country School parents are. Of course, we don't protect our children by protecting our children. We protect our children by allowing them to take appropriate risks, occasionally scrape their knees or foreheads, and learn how to jump or land differently.



Can a student fall out of a tree and break an arm or a leg? Certainly. Some of the adults reading this blog will have done exactly that. But do you fall out of a tree twice? Probably not.

I revel in the fact that our students get to absorb the outdoor atmosphere regardless of the weather. They sled on our hills and build snow forts (and even snow pyramids – thank you, 5th Graders) in the winter. They happily traverse campus between classes, even when it’s raining. They run cross country soaking wet and cold and they play soccer in the mud – the more mud, the better. After we introduced our new Gaga Pit this winter, they even created something they call gaga knuckles – a condition that arises from smacking the ground too hard when playing Israeli hand-ball in our beloved Gaga Pit. It’s a badge of honor.





A Country School mother remarked the other day that her son came home with two Band-Aids on his legs and she never asked him what happened and it never occurred to him to tell her. Reflecting on it, she told me she figured he must have been having a good day to have put his body in some sort of minor danger. I like that comment.

Not every family at The Country School is raising "free range children" but our families do embrace the ethos – which has been alive since 1955 when our school was founded – that at The Country School students are going to be outside. They will be hiking outside, camping outside, canoeing on rivers, building rafts on lakes, and then – just before graduation – they will spend eight days in the mountains, deserts, and canyons of Utah. They will get hot, cold, wet, dirty, and tired, and they will enjoy better childhoods and live fuller lives because of it.

I wish this Pennsylvania mother lived closer to our campus. I know the perfect the school for her children.

More Outdoor Fun at The Country School

This afternoon.



On the hill in February (this is a teacher).



A special reading nook (this photo is an old favorite, but it's pretty timeless, since structures like this are erected on campus year after year).



Read the complete blog, "Let My Kids Be Kids"



For additional reading on the subject, check out the following articles and interviews:








Wednesday, May 4, 2016

The Fine Art of Persuasion (Or Please, Sir...)

When our son was young and wanted a toy or possession, he would march up and ask for it. A couple of years later, there was a time when he would clean his room voluntarily or take out the garbage or snuggle my wife, Liza, or me and then, an hour later, ask us for money for a toy or other possession.

I remember being struck by the growth in postponing gratification that must have taken. And then, as he got more sophisticated, he would do tasks voluntarily and then come up with a four-point argument why he should be given this or that toy or possession.

I was reminded of that natural evolution when I was invited to our 3rd Grade classroom here at The Country School and was presented with an array of letters from 3rd Grade students. Here are some lines from those letters:

Dear Mr. Fixx – We want a swimming pool at school!

Dear Mr. Fixx – I think we should have an ice cream bar at school.

Dear Mr. Fixx – We would like a pet day.

Dear Mr. Fixx – We want flag football teams at school!

What was happening is that 3rd Grade teacher Alyson Hill was teaching her children how to write persuasive letters. The enterprising student who was asking for an ice cream bar, for example, buttressed his argument with 11 points, among them:

Firstly, it gets hotter in the school year.… Third, it would refresh everyone. … Fifth, people like ice cream. Sixth, it could be free for students to eat weekly. Seventh, it would not be tons of sugar because it would be one scoop. Eighth, it would go well with the pool. Ninth, Owen’s aunt is a nurse and she says that if you do what you like to do, you work hard. … 11th, it is tasty.

The argument in favor of a pet day was this: 

Our pets miss us during the day. Second, it would be really cool to see other students’ pets. Third, the pets may want to see each other. So please give us a pet day, Mr. Fixx.

The request for a swimming pool at The Country School was crafted this way:

First, on Mondays or after spring break, we will be even more excited to come back to school. Second, we can learn how to swim at school. Third, in science we could learn how to take care of pool water in different environments. … Fifth, on field day we can swim the pool if we get hot. Sixth, last but not least, we want one and the whole 3rd Grade does and maybe the whole school. Thank you for reading this letter.

And here was the argument in favor of a football team:

Kids like sports and they want more recess and gym. Also, it would give kids fun exercise and they wouldn't get hurt. So please can we get a flag football team at school?

While I don't know that I can immediately promise a swimming pool or a permanent ice cream bar, I do think a pet day and occasional flag football game are entirely possible. What I'm more impressed with, however, is the discipline it takes for students to think of what they want to achieve and then to craft persuasive arguments in favor of their goal. I applaud Miss Hill – as I do all of our strong teachers all of the time – for taking the time to reinforce such an important skill.

As an English teacher and as an educator, I worry that the focus on the ephemeral and the youth culture of texting and slang is eroding the syntactical and written conventions that create precise, clear communication. I lv u is not the same as writing, I love you. One makes your heart beat faster and one, if you are of a certain age, makes you fear the full decline of western civilization.

I am proud that at The Country School, accurate spoken and written communication are valued and required. The families who trust their children's education to us expect precise discourse and celebrate “the King’s English” as much as the educators do on campus. Furthermore, the private and public secondary schools to which our students enroll demand exactly what we are teaching our young people, which is to speak and write clearly, accurately, and precisely.

Not every young person can persuade the school administration to create a swimming pool or a pet day or an ice cream bar or a flag football team. And you certainly are not going to be able to if you cannot create a good, authentic, logical argument in favor of it.

Miss Hill will be to blame, not incidentally, as her students become ever more persuasive in lobbying their parents for a higher allowance or specific toy or possession. When they approach their parents with a 10-point argument in favor of staying up later or getting a dog, The Country School will be totally to blame. I am proud of that.


Oh, and for the record, there is some precedent for Pet Day at The Country School...



Monday, May 2, 2016

Positive Language

In a recent blog, I wrote about the power of words and a growth mindset to encourage appropriate behavior and inspire students to rise to academic, artistic, and athletic challenges. In the days and weeks following the publication of that blog, we have all been astounded by the confusing oral and written emanations from political arenas across the country. Many of the words we have heard have been hateful and inflammatory, and while I find that offensive as an adult, I find it even more troubling as an educator.

Our young people must be baffled. After all, at The Country School, we talk about our three major school rules: Be kind to others. Respect everyone's right to learn. Take responsibility for yourself and your school.

A graphic of The Country School Core Values hangs on a wall in the Farmhouse.



The language we have heard, from both the left and the right, is often in direct contradiction to those rules, and some of the loudest voices belong to people we might one day call President. The way this use of language contradicts our school rules is troubling, but so is what could be an even more chilling ultimate effect. Why, after listening to that Beltway cacophony, would any young person be attracted to serving their country as a politician?

The debasing of the political process through language of turmoil and fear is beneath any office and any candidate. The distortion of language confuses the issues and distracts from a healthy debate about policy and possibilities, and just as the use of this language can be troubling for parents, so it can be troubling for teachers.

Archimedes, the Greek mathematician, scientist, and innovator for whom our Country School mascot is named, reportedly wrote, “Give me but one firm spot on which to stand, and I will move the earth.” I believe the precise and proper use of words is that fulcrum point with which we will collectively move the earth. Accurate syntax, and thoughtful language that is, if not kind, at least respectful, can lead to a calmer political process. On Opening Hill Road, it can help set clear goals and messages for our students.

When we are precise with language and when we are honest about our talents and our areas of potential growth, we can –– as humans –– establish long-term ambitions and then identify the steps it will take to achieve those goals.

We all know that just as liars can figure, so figures can lie. What we are perhaps less aware of is that words, even apparently well-behaved words that give every appearance of telling the truth, can lie, too. I'm not really worried about the occasional misuse of words and phrases. Politicians saying, for example, “At this point in time,” when they mean “now.” Practically everyone these days saying, “Hopefully,” when they mean, “I hope.” People beginning their sentences with, “So,” when that is a clumsy “Umm” opening. Those are mainly harmless mistakes.

What I'm writing about here is using words in one way but slyly pretending they're acting in a quite different way –– words in sheep's clothing. When we describe someone as famous –– forgetting that if she really is, then it's unnecessary to say so, and if she really isn't, then it's false to say so –– we do the same thing. Our words and reality are at war, or at least not on speaking terms. When we say that something is “tremendously small,” we are losing the logic of our language. We might as well be speaking Swahili to each other. To the extent that we let our language go untended, allowing it to become as unruly as a weed-choked garden, we let our minds become weed-choked, too.

A shampoo is said to be “earth born” but what on earth, except perhaps meteorites, isn't? And “organic” and “natural” are used in so many different ways that we end up knowing less about the products than more. Such words act as if they are conveying truth. They are doing nothing of the sort. They are conveying pure confusion. And when we are working with young people, who already abbreviate their thoughts in text messaging and emoticons, it is more essential than ever that words are used in full sentences to convey truth and reality.

And, of course, we need to be careful about language that is hateful or hurtful or unnecessarily provocative. When politicians and parents and teachers teach students to use words honestly and truly, like carpenters using their tools properly, we can lead, inspire, and be a beacon of truth about what we as human beings are and what our world is. We may not clear up a whole lot of the world’s confusion, but at least we won't be adding to it either.

There are always temptations to let words take a day or two off, become ill-mannered and go slumming with bad company. Instead, we need to ask our students to elevate their language. Likewise, we need to model syntactical precision for them as well as the proper use of positive language. We need to keep a close eye on our words. We need to discipline our words. We need to crack them on the knuckles when they misbehave. If we do, in the end, our words will do a lot for us, as well as for the world’s balance of sense and sanity. 

The good news is that the view is not all bleak out there, at least not on Opening Hill Road. Recently, during our first-ever TEDx conference at The Country School, we had some remarkable examples of language being used beautifully –– and for good. We will have much more to show when the official videos are ready, but for now, here's a snippet from a collaborative TEDx talk given by the youngest speakers at the conference –– 4th Grade poets:



And here, too, is some photographic evidence of language being used for good on our campus.

Sharing rules to live by.