Change
I remember when The Goldfinch, by Donna Tartt, was super hot five or so years ago. Readers around me basically fell into two camps. Camp One: YES! I love it. It’s sprawling and Dickensonian, yet modern. Camp Two: I love it...But gosh who was that editor and why didn’t they help Tartt cut 150 pages?
A few weeks ago I sent the parent community a crisp, one-page letter that was technically about our Fall Feast and Winter Sing. In my heart of hearts, I wanted to write a five-page letter about change, tradition, resistance, and how uniquely food and holidays cut to our very core as human beings. I also wanted to write a letter about Westland culture and how we can, to the best of our abilities, ensure that everybody belongs.
I sent the one pager, though, because there’s so much content out there right now. There’s impeachment trials, basketball practices, out-of-town-guests, flooded inboxes, and paperless post invites that you haven’t RSVP’d to yet. We’re busy! There isn’t enough time to get to it all. But here goes. This is my letter that I never sent. This is my Goldfinch blog. Damn ye editors; I’m putting it all out there.
Onions
So often, the metaphor of “peeling an onion” is used when an institution is taking on an issue and pulling back the many layers of complexities to understand history, context, and what’s next. I don’t know about you, but I’m not much of a raw onion fan. When I am working with a raw onion, I get a little dramatic. I put a bandana around my face–Western movie style–and I make sure to put on what Westland students would call woodworking glasses to protect me from the crying and burning that occurs. So I tend to stay away from the whole “peeling the onion” metaphor.
I want to try something new in regards to a conversation on holidays and tradition and change at Westland. Let’s picture–and even smell–the act of sautéing an onion. The complex aroma fills up a kitchen and even an entire home, the anticipation of a great dinner to come. I want to approach the work of analyzing our holiday practices, not crying or rushing through the uncomfortable task, but doing the work with a sense of being at home in a kitchen, calm and hopeful. This way we might be more comfortable with getting uncomfortable and feel okay about disagreeing as we look to understand history, what’s ahead, and the surrounding context.
My blog is called “In Context,” inspired by the John Dewey quote: “I should venture to assert that the most pervasive fallacy of thinking goes back to neglect of context.” I recently came across another thinker’s take on context. Danielle Sered, author of Until We Reckon, opens paragraph two of her book with the bold line: “It is an American habit to try to solve problems apart from their context.” So let’s sauté and fill up the room with context.
“We Don’t Do Holidays” and Holidays
When I arrived at Westland School two and a half years ago, I learned that the school, for years, was becoming more intentional about being “holiday neutral,” because so often schools across this country, independent and public alike, typically and mindlessly focus on Judeo-Christian holidays.
We want children to bring themselves–and all aspects of their cultures and family traditions– into the classroom. The sharing of a family’s Shabbat Dinner traditions, the sharing of a family’s Day of the Dead altar, and the sharing of a family’s seven foods of Nowruz are all beautiful past moments from Westland classrooms. If our children couldn’t bring in these parts of their identity to school, then we would be headed towards a school culture that is antiseptic, a word that is *out there* right now. The intent behind a school saying, “We have a ‘no holiday policy,’ is to have as even a playing field as possible for each child’s experience, so as not to perpetuate one dominant culture.
I recently toured an independent elementary school where all of the children made Christmas ornaments for their winter boutique. All of the students just made Christmas ornaments in art class, no questions asked. “Why wouldn’t you make Christmas ornaments?” was the assumption I presumed. At the very next stop on my tour, there was a science teacher who was talking about her class to me. She stopped, having noticed a cool, crystallized snowflake form on a student desk following a lab. The teacher proclaimed, “Wow, this will be a great project to make Christmas ornaments.” Again, no questions asked, and this school was not called St. ________. With the best of intentions, Westland is trying to avoid this slip into one dominant culture. Hence our, “We don’t do holidays” approach.
Now, there is a different line of thinking and research that invites schools to acknowledge the significance that holidays play in people’s lives. With this approach, schools intentionally choose which holidays to honor and why. This research says, pay attention to your school community. In her article “Rethinking Holidays From an Anti-Bias Perspective,” Julie Bisson writes:
An effective approach to holidays also advocates anti-bias goals, including helping children feel good about themselves, and teaching about and valuing similarities and differences. Holiday activities can be one more way that teachers help children feel valued for who they are and what they do at home with their families. In addition, participating in activities and discussions about holidays that other children celebrate is one more way that children can learn about the similarities and differences between themselves and others.
In another article on school’s practices with holidays, Julie Bisson (again) with Louise Derman Sparks writes that a school’s first step must be to reflect critically on their own current approach to holidays. They continue: “This includes uncovering your own beliefs and feelings about specific holidays, identifying the messages your activities convey, considering concerns raised by families or staff, and reflecting on potential challenges to change in yourself, your classroom, and program.”
One of the initiatives this year that Rasheda is leading in concert with the Board’s Diversity Leadership Team is to explore these different approaches towards holidays at Westland School. Our intended outcome is to create policy and a belief statement about holidays. We’ll be working closely with the staff, and we intend to utilize input from children and parents as well. Bisson and Sparks confirm, “Ask for everyone’s essential input and collaboration in the process.” A process like this takes time, and it has multiple dimensions and moving parts. Frankly, the process has been stalled by two flashpoint incidents: the Fall Feast Menu and the Winter Sing song slate (as well as the communication leading up to it). The process has been deepened too.
The Winter Sing, “Turkeygate,” Mother’s Day Hats, and Change
Alluded to in the one-page letter, changes to the Winter Sing got miscommunicated to the children. In retrospect, Westland’s shifting away from holidays, which I alluded to above, could have been communicated about years ago. This isn’t to blame or shame, it’s to name and to understand how we move forward more productively. Currently, the teachers are sharing with each other the conversations they’re having with their students about the Winter Sing, holiday traditions, and our differences in community together. The children are genuinely getting excited about the Winter Sing performance and the celebration to come. There are wonderful music rehearsals going on right now, and the Group Sixers are beside themselves with the anticipation of the Follies.
At about the time of the Winter Sing miscommunication, the staff and I decided to try macaroni and cheese as our main course for the Fall Feast. I’ve learned that there’s myriad theories out there about why the staff and I chose not to serve turkey. We came to this decision, similar to how we’ve made other Fall Feast menu decisions the last few years, where we set aside time at staff meetings to discuss what each Group will be preparing and what the administrative staff and specialists will be preparing for the main course. Of note, the menu has changed dozens of times over the last 20 years or so, and it has always been a decision making process contained at the staff level.
The main dish conversation first started because turkeys are either excruciatingly labor intensive to make or exorbitantly expensive to purchase prepared. We also reflected upon the decision made five or so years ago to make the feast be more fall-harvesty. What proceeded was a casual brainstorm sesh. A majority of folks easily got excited about macaroni and cheese, and these noodle-and-cheese-loving fans (um, me included) spoke up. Gluten-free-non-dairy volunteers shared their energy to try out recipes. (Later, staff lounge taste testing ensued.) During the conversation there was a nod towards the growing consensus that one aspect of active citizenry is the practice of choosing certain days of the week to eat plant-based meals in response to our global warming crisis. I got excited about this perspective. (Me! Who came from the quintessential, “You don’t eat meat? We give you lamb!” kind of family.) It was all very nonchalant and casual, even fun. That there was such pushback and concern that we didn’t serve turkey surprised me. Definitely, food for thought...
A big “aha” we had was that while the school was endeavoring to pull away from holidays, contradictions abounded. And, contradictions have abounded for decades. The Follies, our beloved and fun Winter Sing Group Six tradition used to be called, “The 12 Days.” When that name changed in 2007, there was heartbreak and even outrage. There used to be a beloved Mother’s Day tradition in the early 1990’s. Group One children, guided by Michelle and her associate teacher, set up a precious spring tea time celebration for all Group One mothers. Picture if you will, crustless, cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches; homemade hats with child-designed flower arrangements; and an honoring of each individual mother. When Michelle considered the time it took to put this holiday celebration together as well as the changing nature of what constitutes a family, she knew it was the right moment to sunset the tradition. One very disappointed mother, who had beautifully framed her first two children’s hats, pointed at Michelle and whispered, “You’re taking away my favorite moment.”
No doubt change is hard. Resistance is a natural and expected part of change initiatives. I share these stories because they have been helpful for me as I orient myself in this current holiday process and this work ahead. Westland is 70 years strong and has cycled through this moment before. I don’t want us to lose sight of this history.
Does Westland Need to Lighten Up?
This question has been posed to me. In some ways I’ve wondered it too, I admit. Let’s step back for a moment though. When I was in Reggio Emilia, Italy, last spring my American counterparts from the five-state tour frequently commented upon the intensity, scholarship, and thoughtfulness of the early childhood educators in Reggio Emilia. I just silently smirked a little bit though. I could only think of my colleagues at Westland School, knowing they would have been right at home in the intensity, scholarship, and thoughtfulness department. To work at Westland is to be caring, thoughtful, and yes, intense and serious-minded about the responsibility of helping children to use their minds and hearts well. I wouldn’t diminish their intensity and seriousness for the world, however.
I will assure you though, there is plenty of laughter and joy, too, in the staff room. On that note, I’ll use this as an official opportunity to share that at this year’s spring fundraiser, as in years past, the staff will be preparing a made-from-scratch multiple course meal come June to be auctioned off as part of the Silent Auction.
My proposal to the staff this year is that we prepare a classic Turkey supper with all the fixins: Turkey, gravy, cranberry sauce, candied yams, pumpkin bread, apple pie, and yes, squash hand pies. I suggest we throw in macaroni and cheese, too, to round it all off.
The Conversations We Need to Keep on Having
There are questions that have come up as a result of our collective conversations:
What’s so bad about celebrating Thanksgiving?
If we don’t do holidays, why have we always sung Christmas and Hanukkah songs at the Winter Sing?
Can we talk about “The Woke Olympics,” PC-ness, and if it’s really okay to disagree?
What is the decision making process at Westland School?
How do we address the rise of anti-semitism and other forms of overt oppression in our society and the impact on our children?
How as a school are we prepared to have conversations during next year’s presidential election?
How is white privilege showing up at Westland?
If turkey has caused such turmoil for people, what do we do as a school when we are stepping into a more significant change initiative?
How do we manage the intersection of consumerism with holidays?
Why is school open on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur?
Are we going too fast? Are we going too slow?
Sautéing Forward
My hope is that you trust the school. When we make mistakes, we will endeavor to account for them and repair them. When we don’t get communication right, we will seek to be truthful and acknowledge where we went wrong, and reset our course with you and with children.
I think we get so much right too! Westland is a special, extraordinary school. I am proud of it and I am proud to be head of school here. As conversations and parking lot controversies are happening at the adult level of the school community, amazing, in-depth, powerful work is always still happening in the classrooms. The work of this school is exceptional. I think this fact might get lost sometimes, and I don’t want us to lose sight of it.
I will keep accounting to you when I don’t get something right. For example, something that was pointed out to me was that in my last letter to the full school community, I called macaroni and cheese the “quintessential comfort food,” which I now see is a generalization. “Whose comfort food?” was posed to me. It’s in these small moments where I endeavor to stay in someone’s impact and use the learning as an opportunity to grow. It was a good learning moment for me.
Part of acknowledging when I don’t get something right on an ongoing basis is countercultural as a leader. I want to redefine the traditional models of the headship. One way I do this is by acknowledging my missteps. So know that I will make future missteps and mistakes. I and the school won’t get everything right. We’re not going to act like we did either. I’ve heard the phrase, “‘Easier to say sorry than ask for permission’ gets old over time.” Let’s dismantle that saying. I invite us to co-create decisions when appropriate. And when there’s a top-down decision, I’ll endeavor to clearly communicate such a decision and leave space for people to respond.
I know that in a small community when issues arise, there will be dynamic conversation and idea exchanging, in the Breezeway and out in the parking lot. In a small community, though, misguided and misinformed blaming/shaming groups or families for a particular policy is toxic and taxing. I ask each and every community member to draw that line in conversations you find yourselves in, distinguishing between productive grappling and gossiping.
Embarking on this holiday process is good, important work. Dealing with the impact of the Winter Sing and the Fall Feast has–I’ll admit–taken a surprising and inordinate amount of time to manage. I am excited to share with you other work that I am eager to put back into the mix of priorities:
I want to share our recently revised evacuation plan and the work that the administrative team has done on emergency preparation in concert with the Board’s Risk Management Committee.
I’m excited to update the community on our math consultant, Cynthia Garland Dore’s most recent visit and our plan to have her facilitate a parent education evening for parents to learn experientially about Westland’s math program.
I’m excited to share the Board’s Sustainability Task Force’s upcoming initiatives.
I’m excited to enter the final stages of our Facilities Master Plan led by our Board’s Campus Improvement Committee.
As always, I’m excited to spend time in the classrooms with teachers and children and report out the patterns of my observations.
I’ll stop there, though there’s more initiatives! More good work.
May Sarton wrote, “We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be.” I hope we all feel the liberty to be ourselves at Westland School; I have through this blog. Perhaps most importantly, we hope our children know that they can show up whole and as themselves, too. I also hope our children know that if they are uncertain about a change that they can come with their questions, wonderings, and concerns. That no matter what, they belong. That their questions, their worries, and their hopes matter.
Change is hard. Change is inevitable. Westland should...will...must... always hold onto its core philosophy, values, and identity: to what makes Westland, Westland, so that it can “be itself too.” The words of two parents of a graduating sixth grader, one of whom is an alum of Westland, come to mind as they reflected on change and their hopes for Westland: “Mostly the same, but a little different.” We’ll endeavor to strike that right balance of preservation and change, one decision and communication opportunity at a time.