Is the planning you have to do for your lesson a joy or a drag?
Is the research phase the boring bit or the juicy bit?
Is delaying gratification a necessary pain or an adventurous pleasure?
It may look like our experiences decide what they’ll be on our behalf. But the truth is, we get to choose what anything means.
Is this the end or the beginning?
Is this a breakdown or a breakthough?
Choose wisely.
The world has so much stimulus flying at us in all directions.
We tune a lot of it out.
I’m thinking a lot about how to resensitise ourselves to the world.
What do you focus on? What do you put in your body on a regular basis? How do you move your body?
All of these things have an effect on my capacity to feel and be moved by the world around me.
A feather can be moved by a baby’s breath.
A rock cannot.
If you know, you know.
And you’re responsible, by the way, to be the best yoghurt you can be.
As an actor, I’ve often been challenged by learning lines. Yesterday in acting class I had a breakthrough.
The theory was simple: We absorb, learn, retain and are better able to recall things we learn in a highly emotional state.
Makes sense, right? We all remember minute details of where we were when we got the news of major life or world events.
It soaks in.
So in practice, our teacher Jon had a person feeding us a line auditorily. They held the script and read each line to the actor who was learning the text.
Importantly, when you’re the one learning the lines you have no visual reference of the text. So you’re not reaching internally to create an image of the text to recall it. You are hearing it, but that’s not what this technique encourages you to do either- you aren’t supposed to hear the word in your minds ‘ear’.
Instead, as we’re being fed the line, we are working extremely physically inside one of five actions that relate to emotions; essentially variations of pushing and pulling.
While we are working physically in this way, the line is fed to us, and we repeat the line over and over, using the words we’re saying to help us play our action of pushing or pulling. We are generating physicalised emotion with the body.
We continued this for 15 minutes per actor. And the lines went in, yes… but not in a way I’m used to.
When it came time to recall the text, I wasn’t grabbing at it the same way I usually do, it was more… seeping up from underneath. Coming up from underneath to support me. Much more like how ideas form into sentences for me in real life. It didn’t feel like I knew them, but as I said the first line, the next one came out and then the next and the next.
The best part was they came out differently every time (which is gold for an actor)
It changed a fundamental building block of my whole craft as an actor- how I learn lines. If this fundamental thing changes, I wonder what the trickle down effects are?
I made a tiny breakthrough today.
Here I was thinking that pushing through is a what a resilient person does. Turns out it’s what a ‘stressor’ does.
Turns out there are three types of people:
The dabbler is someone who dabbles in things but it doesn’t last. They’ll do it something while feels good then stop the minute it gets hard.
The stressor is someone who stresses as they push through to achieve what they want. They try and get things perfect and that actually causes resistance and stunts their growth.
The master is someone who practices the fundamentals every day. They aren’t afraid of taking a few steps back to take more steps forward. They also understand that success is a long game and it’s rare to see progress up close.
You don’t get any points for stressing your way through. Sure, it feels like you’re working really hard, but feeling like your working isn’t the same as being effecting.
I know which of the three I’d like to be.
In the pursuit of something you want to do or make happen, there are two options that might run through your mind:
I don’t know about you, but my brain LOVES to picture option 2. But just like when you buy a new shirt and suddenly see it everywhere, you tend to get what you focus on.
Let’s spend no energy on option 2.
Let’s spend it all on option 1, shall we?
Connect it to your highest values.
Write a paragraph about how the action you want to take links directly to the things you care about most in life.
Then you won’t have to brute force your way through, you’ll be pulled along effortlessly.
How you hold your body is how you appear to the world.
And, happily, how you hold your body will eventually affect your mood.
You should choose that pretty carefully too then
You might not need killer productivity
Or the best ideas
and you might not to be the best.
All you need it passion. That vital SPARK that emboldens others, makes them their best and brings out your best.
I’m pretty sure just priming this state each day is about 80% of the battle.
The first time I heard it, I thought it was a one off. Something that just this particular teacher struggled with. But the more I talked to different kaiako, the more this hidden fear popped up; this wasn’t the the outlier, this seemed to be the norm.
Back when I was teaching kapa haka in a handful of schools, teachers would come up to me all the time, beaming about the waiata we’d just learned with the kids:
“I’ve never heard the kids use so much reo! I’ve tried to do this before… but I’m scared of getting it wrong”
There it is, I’m scared of getting it wrong.
This is something we can all relate to; no one wants to be feel like they are wrong. But of course when it comes to te ao Māori, the stakes are so much higher. Everything we include in our classrooms comes in context of a long and complicated history in our country. This fear of getting it wrong is our mind (and heart!) doing all they can to respect and do right by our Māori people and culture.
The worst thing? This hidden fear is actually perpetuating the exact thing it’s there to supposedly counteract.
Think about it, where does this fear come from? Well, for me I want to take care of our sacred taonga. I want my students to respect the culture. I want them to say the right kupu and pronounce them beautifully. I want them to understand the context of our history and how it relates to them, their own culture and our place in the world.
It’s easy to see how the fear of getting it wrong can look like a safeguard, right?
One thing I know from working with tens of thousands of kids, watching my nieces and nephews grow up and indeed from my memory of being a kid… it’s that fear fear doesn’t nurture growth, it narrows it.
Fear based discipline is gross. There’s no place for purposefully induced fear in the classroom. Students shouldn’t be afraid to fail.
Neither should teachers.
fear doesn’t nurture growth, it narrows it.
When we feel and perpetuate the fear of getting it wrong with te ao Māori, we aren’t creating a respect and care for our taonga, we’re actually creating a fear based relationship with it.
And what we believe, our students tend to adopt. So the fear of getting it wrong is modeling the same fear in the next generation of New Zealanders and guess where that leads? Teachers don’t even try, kids never learn and our unique culture slowly fades into obscurity.
The alternative then is to model the beliefs, attitudes and behaviors we want in our learners. We may know this, but when fear grips us, it has a great way of making us forget the fundamentals. Our students are looking to us to lead them, and as leaders we have a responsibly to dance with our own fear and lead our kids to grow their confidence.
When I first started teaching, I’d pore hours over the actions and translations for the waiata I was teaching. I wanted to get it just right. Sadly my lessons always fell flat when I was focussed on perfection. Both because perfection doesn’t exist and because I was teaching from fear. It wasn’t until I saw a colleague completely light the classroom on fire with her kapa haka lesson that I had to rethink my approach…
I decided to do a bit of investigative interviewing to figure out her recipe for success. The first piece to her success seemed to be her outcome. She said that all she wanted to do was feel a sense of energy in the room. Whether teaching a new waiata or learning about similes and metaphors, she is hunting for that life in her students. Compare that to my outcome, which was to get it just right.
She also had a different approach to resource to me; where mine was linear, her’s was like an all you can eat buffet (the Pizza Hut one they used to have). I had an ABC approach, where I’d do ‘this’, then ‘this’ and hopefully we could then do ‘that’. My colleague on the other hand, knowing that she’d be much more relaxed, had a brimming resource pool. She didn’t rely on a single source, she brought videos, audio tracks, interviews, a few games, worksheets, resource pages and personal anecdotes. Knowing that her outcome was to bring the lesson to life, she had a myriad of things to pick from to follow the natural progression of the lesson.
The final bit was watching her bring it to life in action; and this is the beautiful thing about teachers, we all have our unique style. When we have an empowering outcome and we’re loaded up with resource, we have the luxury of dancing through a lesson with our unique way of teaching. When we know what we’re after (like how my colleague’s outcome was to see that sense of energy in the room) and we’re flexible in our approach, the possibilities for getting there completely open up and suddenly we’re free.
This kind of freedom feels like a world away from being fearful. And it’s this freedom that got me into teaching in the first place!
When I talk to teachers about this antidote to fear they sometimes say to me that the fear keeps them in check. They’re afraid that if they lose the fear they lose the respect for taonga Māori. To some, ‘respect’ isn’t a useful word. For some teachers the word ‘love’ suits a bit better. What is it to love the Māori culture? So if you think the fear is your safeguard, maybe a ‘love’ for our nations culture can be your new safeguard.
This kind of freedom feels like a world away from being fearful. And it’s this freedom that got me into teaching in the first place!
You might also feel resistant to working in this way because you may truly be completely wrong and deliver a terrible lesson! The truth it we always run this risk. The stakes are always high for us teachers. It’s our willingness to still play when the stakes are high that makes our work special. As with any lesson, do the best you can with what you have, get resourced up, ask for help and get playful. When your intention is to bring life to the learning and deliver it with curiosity and love, I don’t think you really can fail.
The fear of getting it wrong is so common and worse still it hides in plain sight disguised as a guardian of te ao Māori. But protecting something using fear is a bit like the plastic covering over my Nan’s couch. Sure, it’s not going to get spaghetti bolognese on it… but then we never get to enjoy it in it’s full corduroy glory. (No offense Nani)
Culture was never meant to survive behind glass. A waiata survives because people sing it imperfectly at first, courageously over time, and together. That’s how we bring te reo to life in our classrooms and more importantly, that’s how the unique culture of Aotearoa survives and thrives into the future.
Have you felt a similar fear of getting it wrong? Comment below and let me know; what strategies do you use to dance with your fear?
