My teaching to-do list the past few weeks has been lengthy. Next week I will be video-recording kids yoga classes for my teachers’ review. I’ve known about this assignment for awhile, yet the preparation has taken on more stages than I assumed. It’s also proving to be an educator-of-sorts in mindfulness. As always though, I am grateful for the experiences and lessons thus far.
Stage #1/Learning Opportunity #1: Get my headspace in order.
I was not in a “fun” mindset for many weeks about this assignment. I may love sharing practices with kids, but I’m not a fan of cameras. This was going to be one of those times I’d need to get good and comfortable with being uncomfortable. I don’t know how I diffused bouts of nervousness prior to meditating and practicing yoga. It seems so obvious now…use my meditation and yoga practices to curb my self-doubt, recharge my energy levels, and dial in on tasks that need attention.
As I tell my adult students, “whatever you’ve been thinking, you’ve paid it enough attention.” So for several weeks I was laughing at my mind as it tried to get me all tied in knots. I was frequently reminding myself that there’s no need to fuel nerves with energy. (Yes, there were moments of talking to myself). Thankfully, I reined in my nervousness about being on camera and meeting my own expectations, just in time to tackle Stage #2.
Stage #2/Learning Opportunity #2: Handle the logistics. Secure class locations, dates and times (check). Purchase videocamera. Find old tripod. Create media releases/permission slips (check, check, check). The mind stays calm when we are focused. I felt great with all these pieces in order…
next…
Stage #3/Learning Opportunity #3: Create lesson plans. (i.e. create brand new to-do lists!) Design three one-hour classes for K-5th grade students. Note to self: Planning is essential!
Well, I’m writing from the middle of Stage #3. I’ve been working with these students for five weeks, so I’ve been asking myself what I really want to impart. I’ve questioned the best use of an hour. Logically, I feel those answers should be in my lesson plans.
I’ve already committed to using a standard class template. While I’m okay with changing things up sometimes, I know kids thrive with a certain level of consistency. So in each class I will incorporate the usual: breathing, asana, and relaxation activities. We’ll build from warm-ups, then burn off some energy, and then get good and relaxed- so we have more energy!
I’m lucky the students have a practice foundation from which I can build. Sequencing those activities shouldn’t be too time-consuming or nerve-wracking. And my teachers honor the creative spirit, so I have room to infuse each activity with fun.
I have a template, a foundation, and I’m a fan of fun. The lesson plans should just be pouring out of me, right?
Umm. It’s not shaping up that way so far. I still haven’t addressed what I want for them and the best ways to do that in one hour. I could spin on this for days, thereby needing to go all the way back to Stage #1. I don’t want to do that though, so I think it’s time to keep it simple. It’s time to address: What do I want?
Well, I want the classes to be more than a series of activities. I want the classes to be steeped in mindfulness, compassion and freedom. I want the classes to give them chances to succeed.
It feels like I need a to-do list for my teaching methodology!
It’s possible one more to-do list is unnecessary. But, I’ve sat with the idea. It’s not the worst plan. While it’s very type-A, it has some innate benefits. As each class unfolds, I can “check” back in with that “list” so I don’t get too focused on just ticking off activities for an hour. It’s similar to having a mission statement for each class; the activities support the mission, so the mission is accomplished by executing the activities. (Yes, here’s another instance of logical problem-solving).
If my mission is mindfulness, compassion and freedom, I need to link that to a class structure. And a good place to start I suppose is the beginning. We teach children mantra and affirmations at the opening of each class. For this group, their mantra are: I do my best. I am kind. I am focused.
What if I turn those upside down, teach from those, and create space for kids to live up to their mantra? Could that create a meaningful and applicable methodology? All I need to figure out is what I can do to hold the space for them to live up to those for an hour.
I’m still brainstorming, but so far, I’ve come up with the following approaches:
- Let them get it wrong. Why? Doing our best means leaving room for and accepting imperfection. While I can guide them to overcome challenges in the practices, I run the risk of downplaying their best efforts if I press too hard for them to complete activities a certain way.
- Remove distractions. Children are curious. Finding and maintaining focus is a practice all its own. Whatever I can do to eliminate known distractions from the practice space…toys that will catch their eyes, interruptions, etc. will help them maintain their utmost focus.
- Model kindness. Children are great mirrors. They often show us behaviors that they have seen unfold around them. If I demonstrate kindness to myself and others during the hour, they can model that behavior instead of saying or doing something unkind that they’ve seen used to handle moments of confusion, fear, disappointment, etc.
That feels like a workable start. Now…How can I use the tools, like children’s books, that make me comfortable to support these three approaches? The classes aren’t about me, but if I teach what I love, I might have an easier time getting in fun-mode, ignoring the camera and being present for them.
I have a lot of literary options, but I’ve narrowed it down to three (for now). Perhaps I can read One by Kathryn Otoshi. Her story about bullying can highlight our natural ability to be kind and offer the idea that sometimes it just takes one moment of being inclusive to make changes. Or maybe we look for Waldo for a few minutes to improve our focus if distractions seem high. Or maybe we read ish by Peter H. Reynolds. He reminds us that our best effort is enough. His message and phrasing could come in handy when working on tricky poses; for example, their Tree Poses don’t look like trees or even one-another’s poses. Perhaps they look a little more “Tree-ish” and we could have fun seeing all the varieties of the same.
That’s a few ideas. I still have some planning to do, but I have time. And my gratitude for these lessons should carry me through sorting out the finer details in the days ahead.
Writing this post over the week has been helpful. Learning to share practices with children has taught me much. It’s taught me a lot about myself. I’m grateful today that I notice my self-created challenges sometimes. I can be in my head, logical, and over-think, but solving challenges gets me inspired. And being inspired is a decent way to transition through Stage #3: Planning into Stage #4: Execution.
And I can’t wait to see what I learn from Stage #4!
I thank you for listening while I worked through planning. I’ll devote some posts in the future to Reynolds and Otoshi. They deserve some deeper discussion. So please check back!
Namaste.
