“I can…. and still….”
This blog post is inspired by the Holding Space for Duality Affirmation Guided Meditation by Alexandra Elle. Listen here. The duality affirmations throughout the blog post are my own.
Have you ever heard of a disability classification called Emotional Disturbance or Emotional Disability? (Please read this definition with a critical lens.) According to IDEA, Emotional disturbance means a condition exhibiting one or more of the following characteristics over a long period of time and to a marked degree that adversely affects a child’s educational performance:
(A) An inability to learn that cannot be explained by intellectual, sensory, or health factors.
(B) An inability to build or maintain satisfactory interpersonal relationships with peers and teachers.
(C) Inappropriate types of behavior or feelings under normal circumstances.
(D) A general pervasive mood of unhappiness or depression.
(E) A tendency to develop physical symptoms or fears associated with personal or school problems.
Emotional disability is an educational disability. Traditional schools and even ones that provide specialized instruction are the issue, not our students. Maybe if our schools were set up differently, there would not be as many characteristics that “adversely affect a child’s educational performance.” What does that mean anyway? Does it mean that people blame students for the reasons they are not successful, instead of cultivating the conditions for success? Of course they do! That is what deficit based mindsets are. Deficit thinking blames students for their shortcomings and can lead to educators believing that such shortcomings are incapable of being changed or supported at school. The whole definition of Emotional Disturbance is deficit thinking, but I digress.
Anyway, I am a new Assistant Principal leading a standardized program that supports students classified as having an emotional disability. Let me just say, my students are the best! Just look at my favorite card from National Assistant Principal’s week. I got so many lovely cards from everyone in the school, but this one is my favorite: From K*****: S*** my d***
One might wonder why this is my legitimate favorite? I received over 150 note cards with handwritten notes for National Assistant Principals week. I read every one and this is DEFINITELY my favorite, hands down. I am going to frame it. It’s my favorite because I KNOW my kids. My kids teach me the beauty of duality every single day. So often, we are taught things are black and white. Yes or no. Good or bad. But there will be moments where we have to hold space…for more than one truth, for more than one thing. A person can show up as gentle, fun, curious, kind, empathetic, and still have their “moments.” There is no such thing as a “bad” kid.
I can imagine this exact scenario in the classroom. The teacher is engaging the student in a brainstorm of kind words they can write to express gratitude to the Assistant Principal. As everyone works decorating their notecard, one student decides that it would be hilarious to write the opposite. His mom agreed when I called her. He thinks it's so funny in his own way to do the opposite. I could even hear his stepdad in the background asking, “Isn’t that the lady he said he feels safe with?” We had a laugh. I could have taken what he said personally. But why? Understanding duality means that my student may feel safe with me, and still engage in behavior that doesn’t communicate that to me always.
Don’t get me wrong, sometimes I do take things personally. I am only human. But working in a school that provides specialized instruction is a different type of emotional superpower. We experience the full spectrum of emotions as a collective, in a day, sometimes in a class period. We all have to make room for each other throughout the day, and sometimes there are crisis moments. A crisis is when a student demonstrates behavior that is dangerous to themselves or others. As much as the students can drive each other crazy at times, if they see someone having a tough moment, I can guarantee that kids will be asking about that person later in the day. While crisis moments can be intense, still they can serve as an opportunity for connection. I have seen my babies break things, throw things, hit people, run away, say cruel things, and still, it is when a child is in crisis, that I get to witness some of the most beautiful acts of love and care from staff and other students. Deep breaths, jokes thats force a smile, cold water, preferred people, caring gestures, and most important, listening to the student and seeking to understand the miscommunication, injustice, or situation, gets us through every time.
At the same time, I have to remember to offer myself care in these moments too. It is not easy to see students you love experience intense emotional pain. I have to serve as a thermostat that can help cool things down sometimes. I can be in any place or situation and still be a home for myself. My breath is always available to me. On the other side of the crisis, when everyone is calm and the conflict is resolved, people will always remember who was there for them. Intense moments turn into moments of collective healing. We share stories. We laugh. We apologize. We strengthen bonds. We move on, eventually -everytime.
I have learned that a moment does not have to mean you had a bad day. I think sometimes we are quick to conclude that a day was “good” or “bad.” Duality helps us to recognize that each day is made up of moments, some good, some bad. Just like the weather, things are constantly changing - never static. What a relief that one moment does not necessarily ruin a day and deem it a bad one. I have learned that every experience is an opportunity for learning. That mindset has been everything.
Throughout the day and outside of work, I have to give myself constant reminders that I can care about myself and still care about the job. The work is not always fun, easy, or fair. I can be honest with myself about how certain situations, circumstances, and people make me feel, and still be a dedicated staff member. It’s not perfect. There are constraints and clashes that are uncomfortable, anxiety-inducing, even. I can love certain aspects of my role, but still be critical about people and systems that do not center educators and students.
Certain aspects of my work in school leadership brings me an incredible amount of joy. My students and staff give me reasons to smile and keep going. But sometimes, I do feel overwhelmed. I have to take care of myself and know that it is not selfish to do so. I can care for myself and still be productive. I hear “you cannot pour from an empty cup” a lot. I get it, but we are not just filling our cups so that we can pour the contents out and fill our cups again. We should pour into ourselves so that our cups are full for US. We care for ourselves so that we can be whole and enjoy life and our loved ones. We should seek to share our overflow at work, not the contents of our cups. I want to run over!
I’m working on resting more and resting more meaningfully. I’m still working on reminding myself of my power and believing it. There will be tough moments, mean notes, and hard days. You can feel broken, and still remember that you are whole. This is a reminder to hold space for the many beautiful ways that two (or more) things can be true at once.