Brookdale

My mother lives in a nursing home now. She is one of the many people sitting in the middle of the common room of Claire Bridge community. The residents are placed there because it is easier to care for everyone when they are rallied together instead of being alone in their rooms.

My mother is not happy. She is in the middle of this world and the next. Dementia seeps in and spreads quickly. There are many simple things, some of them basic hygienic practises, my mother can no longer do. She needs the regular care of others to help her in her daily tasks.

Brookdale is a good place. The people who work there show a great deal of compassion and care. They seem to genuinely like my mother. It’s the best we can do. And my mother is not happy. Mom puts up with the people in her midst. She is trying to fit in quietly.

“What’s your name, young lady?” That’s Georgia. Georgia has Alzheimer’s. Her eyes barely move. She seems to be looking at the same thing all the time. Her head moves but her eyeballs stay constant. Georgia smiles a lot though, especially when she looks across the table.

“That’s my husband”, she says. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. We’ve been married for 63 years”

I look inquisitively at the man sitting next to my mom at the lunch table. The same people eat their meals together regularly. This is my first visit. I am meeting them for the first time.

“63 years!”, I exclaim. “Wow” that’s amazing!”

“Yes” says Harvey, “We’ve been together for 65 years. I live upstairs. I come down every day to have lunch with Georgia and to make sure she’s getting whatever she needs. We moved here from Arizona a few years ago to be near our children. We moved in to one of the apartments upstairs. Now Georgia needs to be down here, but we get to see each other every day.”

“Yep” says Georgia. “We met 65 years ago. He just walked in to my brother in law’s gas station and we’ve been together ever since. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. “

“That’s true”, Harvey pipes in. “It was a real gasser” He’s obviously used that joke before.

Constance sits across the table from me. She too, seems a bit disoriented. I watch her turn her head to look straight at Georgia. Her hand slowly crawls “I love you.” She says clearly. “I would love you even more if you loved me too. Give me your hand.” Georgia ignores her. Constance continues to stare.

I slowly slide my hand across the table. “I’ll hold your hand.” I say. Constance shifts her eyes from Georgia to me. She smiles gently. She thinks briefly and then switches her hand from Georgia’s direction into mine. Her eyes close just a touch and she says, “Hmmm, that feels so good. You feel so warm.” We sit holding hands for several minutes massaging each other’s palms and warmly moving our hands around one another.

The man sitting at the end of the table is called Ben. Ben never speaks with his voice. Everything Ben says happens with his eye gestures and the nature of his smile. Today, Ben is happy. His toothless smiles shows contentment with each bite of the hamburger he munches. Ben smiles and winks at me, a stranger. I am a friendly face sitting at his table.

Mom doesn’t want to talk to anyone. I am acutely aware of the stories that will never be told. Nobody seems to care about the stories. Nursing homes are necessary places in this society in which we live. I am uncomfortable.

As warm and compassionate and loving as the staff might be, they are still strangers to my mom. I wish I could take her home and be there for her on a daily basis. I know she is comforted when we hug together or when, while lying on her bed we lie side by side as two spoons in a drawer.

It will take a few generations to get us back to caring for our parents. It won’t happen in my lifetime. But if I plant a seed in my grandchildren’s soul, it is possible that they might nurture it and help it grow.

For now, I am comforted by the fact that (at least) my two oldest boys know that, whatever they choose to do about me better be pretty nice because they are not long after me.

Doing and Being

There is a woman who comes to our synagogue every week. She’s not Jewish. I know this because I’ve talked to her.

Eva is a small framed, solid-looking Philippino woman with long, thick dark hair pulled together into a simple ponytail at the back of her head. The wheelchair that she maneuvers holds middle-aged Penny. She is paraplegic with coiffed sandy red hair, and thick wide rimmed glasses that often fall down the arch of her nose. Eva, I find out is Catholic. She is non practicing and unsure of her religious commitment. She has been sponsored from her homeland to be a full time caregiver for Penny.

Penny is Jewish and tells me she is relieved to have found our Reconstructionist synagogue in Toronto. Here, she can practice Judaism in a liberal, traditional practice that values inclusivity and diversity. As a Reconstructionist, women and men have the same rights and responsibilities, Jews and non-Jews are both considered chosen by God, and the synagogue sanctuary is a home for all.

Penny’s accident a year and a half ago prevents her from living independently. She relies completely on the help she gets from others. Attending synagogue has brought her back to her roots, allows her to self reflect and helps her to feel reconnected. I’m not surprised to learn that Penny anticipates her weekly involvement in Shabbat service, time for prayer and meditation, and opportunity to interact and engage with others. I feel the same way about my attendance each week.

Eva makes sure that Penny gets to services each week, pushing her wheelchair through the snowy streets and settling her among the synagogue pews. Eva sits down beside her and throughout our very long service attends to Penny’s needs, sometimes turning the pages of the prayer book, often wiping her nose with a fresh tissue, occasionally whispering something to her.

Week after week they are there. As the traditional prayers and songs are sung together, I often sympathize somewhat with Eva. “She must be so bored,” I think to myself. “How noble is she to sit patiently with Penny during a 3 hour service.” I wonder about the depth of the relationship that must be developing between these two women and how each depends so much on the other.

At the end of each service, as we all meet in the dining area for our shared Shabbat meal together, I greet them both with a “Shabbat Shalom”; in English means “Good resting day”.

A few weeks ago, engaged in my own self-reflective prayer, I happened to glance over to the other side of our sanctuary. There was Penny in her wheelchair, leaning back, cushioned in her protective neck brace. Next to her was Eva. This time Eva had her own prayer book in hand and she was confidently and knowingly singing along with the rest of the congregation. “A real Jew.” I said to myself, and with a smile and a nod shared the sight with my husband Paul.

Eva was being Jewish. I wondered how much she understood…how much she knew. And then I thought, that for those three hours of practice, it didn’t really matter. She was engaged in communal prayer in our Jewish community. The two women shared something profound.

It reminded me then of what an old mentor of mine once said. In preparing me for professional growth and possible promotion, she commented, “In order to get this job, Amy, you will need to already be doing the job.” It made sense to me that I need to show that I could do what the job required.

Sometimes being depends on what we do. In Judaic law you don’t have to believe in God to serve God. Judaism is a religion of practice - lighting candles on Friday night, sharing a ritual meal before the Sabbath, sitting Shiva for deceased family members, and remembering the anniversary of their death by saying a memorial prayer each year, fasting on Yom Kippur, and symbolically throwing our sins in to the rivers in the form of breadcrumbs for ducks to eat as they swim away. For many the practice is the beginning of the belief. If we “do” Jewish before we feel Jewish, it is only a matter of time before what we do becomes who we are.

I don’t know if Eva will ever consider herself to be religious. And religion isn’t what this is all about. I realized that what we do in this world eventually translates to who we are. And what we are is recognizable, ultimately, in what we choose to do.

Singing in a Choir

I sing in a woman’s choir. Every other Monday night I ride my bike down to the community centre to join about 35 other women who also love to sing. There is no auditioning for this choir. The only pre-requisite to membership is a desire to sing, an ability to (at least) try to stay on key and enough adventure in musical skill to harmonize with the rest of the group. I learn a lot about music by being a member of the choir.

I listen carefully to the other people surrounding me so I fit myself in harmonically. That takes careful listening skills. It’s about listening with an open heart. No judgement. I just want to fill in where everybody is.

In June we had our end of the year performance. Our choir had 7 selections that our choir leader, Gillian had chosen. It was the first time we had two nights of performance instead of one. And both nights were completely sold out!

My husband, Paul, loves to come to see me perform in the choir. He says I beam up there on the stage. I’m not sure what he means by that! He says it looks like I’m having such a good time. I do have such a good time. And I feel glowing and energetic with the other women on stage. It reminds me a little of Canada geese. Their flying formation suggests the perfect support system. They fly in a V formation and rotate leadership simply by sharing the responsibilities of the front flyers.

Singing is like that too. I maintain my pace based on the energy and skill of my co singers. We have an amazing group of singers!

This year I reflected on the performance process. I was thinking about my connection to the audience, and, before the second night of performance I asked Gillian

“Should I be looking at the audience to connect with them? Or should I be reading my music, neatly piled in my black binder? Or should I be watching you?”

“All of them,” she replied,” If you want to maximize performance possibilities.”

I got it, I thought. It is just like learning! The best learning happens when we are able to help our students connect 1) to themselves, 2) to their immediate world, and 3) to the content we share with them.

Welcome back to school 2010-2011

Sharing Space in Nature

Our outside living situation on Gabriola happens only during the summer. Paul and I decided that we would hold off building a house, because, quite honestly, if we built a house, we would probably live in it. And we really like living outside!

So we have a beautiful tent and we put a firm foamy mattress inside. We cover the mattress with clean sheets and warm blankets. And we’re happy each night looking out of the top of the tent, becoming familiar with the star formation that design in the sky above our bed. The moon becomes memorable as the season progresses and her position swings further and further west as the summer continues.

I usually sleep well in our tent. And if I’m not sleeping well, I still appreciate being awake and aware of the outside. Last night there was a mouse in our kitchen and I could hear the little critter gnawing away at the paper towel that I inadvertently left out on the counter top. Every few minutes there would be a scurrying of mouse feet running past our tent. The straight pathway from kitchen to woods was repeated several times. It sounded as if there was a shuttle party running back and forth. I could almost hear the shrieks of joy from the mice as they carried the bits of treasure from source to home. I Think I lay awake for a long time, a gentle smile on my face, listening to the action.

I was thinking about what it would be like for me if this were in my kitchen in Toronto. A mouse in my kitchen would completely freak me out. I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I would be investigating the nearest and greatest rodent removal company. There is no way I would be able to withstand the idea of mice running around my house and infiltrating my kitchen.

I realized how, here, I gratefully share the environment with the mice.It is, after all, their space too. I have no fear. I experience no sense of disgust. I simply enjoy listening to the commotion and welcoming the presence in our home. I feel a true sense of co habitation and I love the idea of being a part of this natural world! And I am humbled.

Learning From Spence Kagan

I finally went to The Glacie Conference that happens annually in Toronto. The Glacie conference features Spence Kagan and is two days full of information and networking with teachers. The topic is cooperative learning, but I always think of it without the learning part. That would make it about cooperation. For me, the question becomes “How do we make cooperation more attainable in our world?” What skills are necessary to make sure that we all cooperate whether it is in the nursery school classroom, the sports fields, the university lecture halls or the corporate boardrooms?

For me, the educational environment is a perfect laboratory for how we want to be behaving in real life. If we practise enough in the comfort of the classroom, we’ll get good enough to be able to do it out in the real world. Wouldn’t it be great if we cooperated in the real world?

I read something lately that talked about the difference between group work and cooperative work. It referred to two sports figures to illustrate the concept. One was Tiger Woods. The other was Michael Jordan. The writer said that if your pursuit is to be the best individual, you can work in a group but you probably aren’t working cooperatively. Michael Jordan, as good as he is in basketball, is only as good as his team allows him to be. Tiger Woods, although he plays with many golfers, can shine. Tiger plays in an environment where there is no interdependence.

Interdependence is the key to a cooperative environment. Members of the team who feel respected and useful, contribute more. They are more enthusiastic and motivated to participate. The more active participation from members the more chance for success results.

Research (David and Roger Johnson) supports the idea that groups excel when there exists a sense of interdependence. That makes sense to me. If we are taking care of ourselves first and then taking care of our neighbours, chances are we all prosper.

In the winter months, I volunteer weekly at a church where I serve dinner to homeless and hungry people. I’ve been doing this for 12 years so I have become quite close with some of the people who are guests at the dinners. Recently one of my friends from the church was diagnosed with cancer. Last month he had serious surgery to remove a cluster of intestines and some of the malignancy. He’s been in the hospital since the surgery (June 8). He has no family and no friends that I know about. There are about 8 of us from the church who have been visiting Derek and advocating for him while he is recuperating and in convalescence.

It is inspiring to be part of a group that works so diligently to care for others. There are many of us so we don’t tire. Although I am away for the summer, I know the rest of the group picks up the slack that my absence leaves. There are times when I work more to pick up the slack of others. Imagine a world where everyone took care of themselves and even had enough energy left over to give to others.

Taking Care

I spent last week in Houston, Texas attending the biennial International Tribes Trainers Conference. It was a great week!

Tribes conferences are different from any other. The process of Tribes emphasizes the practise of appreciation, mutual respect, attentive listening and inclusive participation. Tribes people are genuinely kind and compassionate. At this conference the people are also smart, enthusiastic, and committed. They are people who genuinely care about teaching and learning and about making the world a better place. They are really, really, really nice!

I think I’m usually like that too. I like people! I’m the kind of person who makes my way to the kitchen in a restaurant to say thank you to the chefs after I’ve eaten. I initiate eye contact with strangers so they see me smile and hear my “good morning.” When a panhandler on the street asks me for ‘spare change’ I don’t ever ignore him/her. I respond. “No….and please, have a nice day anyway!” I try to do good things in the world and I remain open to know what more I can do.

I do love people, and I would never not be nice. although sometimes it's hard to maintain a smile and a positive disposition. I manage to do it though....almost always. I feel responsible to model appreciation and optimism. I believe that one person can influence others to be positive and affect change in this world.

When I’m with Tribes trainers, it seems like others feels similarly. Thank you’s are abundant. Compliments flow between people. Hugs, high fives, ‘pats on the back’, words of encouragement, and positive affirmations are the norm. I begin to notice the behaviours and I think, “Hey, with everyone else being nice and kind and compassionate, I don’t have to try so hard. I can just be natural. Natural is good.”

It reminds me of the David and Roger Johnson’s elements of cooperation. When we have a culture that is functioning ideally there is a comfortable balance between individual accountability and positive interdependence. If each member is actually behaving responsibly, then no one has to work too hard to compensate for those not working. Think about it in the context of our global environment. If each person in our universe did what simply needed to be done for the health of our earth (energy reduction, responsible use of plastics and non compostable products, reuse of materials, etc) we wouldn’t have to rely on the energies of the few. No one would get ‘burnt out’. Our world would maintain the richness and fertility with which it was lent to us.

Just imagine if each of us smiled throughout the day, generated positive energy, and accepted with love and compassion all those in our immediate community. We would have so much more energy and spark to give to those who really needed it. There would be fewer of them too. Our world would be a better place to be!

Margaret Meade says “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

Thank you Jeanne Gibbs, Centre Source, and all the Tribes trainers this weekend. Let’s keep working towards a better, happier world. See you in two years!

The Whole Is Worth More Than The Sum of It's Parts

I don’t get the drama about Luiz Suarez, the soccer player on the Uruguay team who is being criticized for ‘cheating’ in the World Cup Soccer Championship.

I actually consider myself to be a pretty ethical person. I stopped watching basketball games because I don’t like the way the opposite teams’ fans wiggle furiously, long colourful balloons, to distract the player from achieving a successful foul shot. I encourage cheering at baseball games and “tsk tsk” those around me who are booing and shouting profanities to the players on the field. I applaud regularly regardless of who scores at hockey games and shout positive encouragements to those in the spotlight. I usually root for the underdog, and I fully participate in the excitement and glory of the game; including the win.

Suarez did something that apparently is a moral sin in soccer. He used his hands to stop the ball from going into the net. Now, Luiz admits that he knew exactly what he was doing. It was not unconscious or inadvertent. He knew it would get him thrown out of the game and suspended from the next game his team played. Everyone knows in soccer YOU DON’T TOUCH THE BALL WITH YOUR HANDS!

But in answer to the Globe and Mail’s question “So how do you explain that one to the kids?” here’s my answer:

I don’t consider Suarez to be a cheater at all. I think of him as a quintessential team player. Soccer is a team sport. Luiz was thinking as a player in the team. If the whole is worth more than the sum of it’s parts, Luiz comprised a very important part. Ghana would have won the game had Luiz not prevented that goal! But he was not thinking about himself. He didn’t have his own glory in mind. He was thinking about the whole team. He did it for the sake of his team’s success. That’s cooperation!