Julie: Whew...the edge of my seat is fully occupied.
Great story...great learnings. Thanks, Chris --- CHRIS CORRIGAN Bowen Island, BC, Canada http://www.chriscorrigan.com [email protected] (604) 947-9236 > -----Original Message----- > From: OSLIST [mailto:[email protected]] On Behalf Of Julie > Smith > Sent: Monday, September 15, 2003 2:13 PM > To: [email protected] > Subject: Re: Comparing methodologies > > Chris and All ~ > > Your story about leaving the room (because you needed to) brings to mind > my most recent OST, where I stayed visibly present in the room (because > I needed to). I offer this because I think the art of living, and of > OST, is to know when to be visible, and when to be invisible; when to > speak, and when to be silent. Not yin or yang, but both yin and yang. > (I bring this up because it seems to me that our OST conversation tends > to articulate and support OST as a way for facilitators to express the > receptive yin, and provides less permission for facilitators to express > the assertive yang. I think wholeness as a human being and as a > facilitator requires comfort with and ability to express both.) > > Two weeks ago I facilitated an OST for a class of 30 7th and 8th graders > (12 - 14 years old) in one of our local schools. When I met with them > the prior week to plan the OST, it was clear there were many conflicts > impeding the harmony of the classroom. They were pretty sure OST > wouldn't work for them, but they agreed they were willing to give it a > try. They decided on a theme of "Respect In Our Classroom." We were > allotted 3 hours (a relatively long period of time in a classroom > setting). I left the planning meeting curious, but unconcerned. I > expected a typical OST to follow. > > My first inkling that this would not be business as usual was during the > posting of topics. Insults were slung freely. Arguments erupted. > Emotional appeals for intervention were made to the teacher. The > wording of a posted topic was altered without permission of the original > author. General mayhem ensued. The teacher was very worried, and needed > some semblance of order. We all did. The students actively ignored my > presence in the circle and my requests for attention. Finally, somehow, > I had their attention. I suggested that the best way for them to talk > about their issues was to start the sessions. I also told them that > given the level of dissension in the room, I would be willing to > facilitate a mediation between conflicting parties if invited to do so. > (I'm not sure what I think about this choice, but this is what I did.) > > All but a handful of students ended up in one session, where the > discussion again raged at full tilt. Students talked over each other in > a heated frenzy of words. The noise level escalated. Students shouted > to be heard. Some students stood up and talked even louder to gain > attention. Several students attempted to take a leading role in > facilitating the conversation, but failed. One student came to me to > tell me how he was trying to help the group, as if he wanted me to > anoint him the facilitator. I told him I couldn't do that, and observed > that he wasn't exactly a neutral person in the group, and that might be > why he wasn't being allowed to facilitate. I also told him I would be > willing to come in and try to help the group hold their conversation, > but only if the group invited me to do so. He went back. They voted on > whether they wanted my help. The vote was about 50% for and 50% > against. He decided that meant they didn't want my help. The battle > raged. Two students faced off, then backed down. I was worried. The > teacher was VERY worried. I seriously considered intervening without > invitation, but kept resisting that impulse, wanting to give them every > opportunity to make the process work. Finally, a key student (I'll call > her Ann) left the room. Ann was the student who seemed to magnetize the > most energy and drama. If I believed in space invaders, I might have > thought her one. Wherever she went, fireworks erupted. When she left, > everything changed. Whew. (Harrison, our conversation of old helped me > get through this. In retrospect I can see that you were exactly right. > There was enough space for her to leave, and leave she did. That made > what happened next possible.) > > After Ann left, the original group dispersed and mostly reformed in a > different space for the next session. They selected a respected (and > neutral) classmate to facilitate the discussion. This conversation was > important because it concerned the care of another living being, the > classroom gecko. It turns out Ann was the gecko's current caretaker, > and there were some concerns about feeding and cleanliness. The group > agreed on the identification of care issues, and they carefully thought > through how they wanted to approach the topic with Ann. They agreed to > send a person she trusted to talk with her about the issues, and he > decided to ask me to accompany him to do so. Ann was back in the > regular classroom. We walked there to talk with her. At first she > refused to talk, then gave me a long look, and agreed. The conversation > took less than a minute. He gave her information she didn't have (where > the food for the crickets was stored, why the crickets were dying before > they were fed to the gecko, how often the aquarium should be cleaned). > She was relieved to have the information because it resolved many of her > concerns for the gecko. She clearly wanted to take good care of the > gecko. She thanked him for the information. They agreed they would > talk again if any new problems developed. > > The boy walked away, problem solved. Ann muttered under her breath that > the people she REALLY wanted to talk with were two other boys. I > accepted her invitation, and asked what she wanted to talk with them > about. She said she couldn't say, because one of her teachers had told > her not to talk about it. I asked her if she could tell me. Her eyes > welled up with tears. She told me a friend had died a year ago, and the > two boys had spread rumors about him. She said she didn't understand why > they did that, and since that time she could barely stand to look at > either of them. I asked her if she wanted me to talk with her teacher > to see if it would be okay if she talked with them about it. She said > yes. By the time I came back to the room, they had somehow already > gathered and begun talking. I quietly sat down on the floor next to > them. She told of her long friendship with her friend, how sad she was > when he died, and the memories it raised of other losses in her life. > The boys were both deeply respectful. They listened fully as she spoke. > They asked questions. Both told of the serious consequences they had > received from their parents for what they had done. One revealed the > losses he was facing in his life, and his sadness that his father was > again stationed in Afghanistan. She listened and expressed sympathy for > his situation. One was very remorseful, and expressed a sincere and > heartfelt apology. The other expressed less remorse because he was a > friend to a girl who had been seriously harmed by the boy who died. He > felt a deep loyalty to his friend and her suffering. Still, he > expressed a sincere apology for hurting Ann, something he never intended > to do. Ann dried her tears and said she felt better. The boys again > apologized. Again, whew. (I now understand "whew." It is the out > breath of release and relief.) > > I went back to our OST meeting room. In between things I had been > watching a very quiet and reserved young boy who had spent the entire > time in his own session. He had taken some flip chart paper and markers > and created a poster titled "Respecting Each Other." He wrote if > someone was crying we should ask them what was wrong, and that we should > be compassionate and merciful. He didn't know how to spell > compassionate and merciful, so he found a dictionary and made sure he > spelled them right. And then he defined each of those word. Then he > added a little more about being loving and kind. I could have hugged > him. > > We did a short talking stick closing. People still wanted to talk after > one pass, so we did a second round. > > And then we were done. They went back to class and I slowly put the > room back in order, filled with the wonder of it all. > > Julie > > * > * > ========================================================== > [email protected] > ------------------------------ > To subscribe, unsubscribe, change your options, > view the archives of [email protected], > Visit: > > http://listserv.boisestate.edu/archives/oslist.html * * ========================================================== [email protected] ------------------------------ To subscribe, unsubscribe, change your options, view the archives of [email protected], Visit: http://listserv.boisestate.edu/archives/oslist.html
