Dynamic Facilitation ... In Left Field

(* Adapted from a paper for the Seminar:"Working With Children and Aggression in a Jungian Way," C.G. Jung Society, Seattle; Oct 29, 1988.)

I am a professional facilitator. As a consultant I help people in meetings think together creatively. My experiences with teachers, loggers, programmers, politicians, millworkers, accountants, parents, scientists, and numerous other groups had convinced me that people can always be helped to think together creatively. Facilitating seventh and eighth graders in a school environment was my most severe test. Below is a summary of the situation and some personal comments.

DESCRIPTION

In Left Field was a voluntary "class" for 7th and 8th graders offered during the 1987/8 school year. It was offered because a group of parents were concerned that their children were not being provided with the same educational opportunity of those in other grades. For seventh and eighth graders, school ended after only 6 periods at 2:15. In all other grades school ended almost an hour later. A parent committee called a meeting with the school administration to address this problem and asked me to facilitate the meeting. In Left Field was the result. A small budget was created for an additional, voluntary 7th period class that the parent committee would manage.The parent group decided that they wanted a class modeled on the committee's facilitated meetings, something related to creativity and decision-making. They asked me to teach such a class.

I had to earn a living. My plan was to facilitate the kids for a few days to help them determine what kind of course they'd like. The plan was to use as much as two weeks for a decision-making process in which kids determined what they wanted. Appropriate faculty would then be found from community resources.

Things did not go as planned. About 40 kids showed up for the first sessions, and for the first time in my experience, there was no "meeting." It was as though forty pre-conscious beings, operating on instinct and random impulse had entered the room. People had warned me beforehand that the attention span for this age was about 6 minutes but I was sure that it would be much longer if I responded to their energy appropriately. I made no attempt to control or manipulate, but rather tried to help them attend effectively to what they wanted. This is usually effective. When it became clear to the kids that I wasn't going to direct their time, that it was truly theirs, most of the kids seemed pleased with the chaos that resulted.

My goals were:

1 The kids would be free to choose their own curriculum. The content of the class would not be directed. The kids would be helped to take responsibility for their own educational experience.
2 The process of the class would be the true curriculum. The environment would be nonjudgmental and include any child who wished to be a part. Each child was encouraged to discover for themselves what they wanted. As much as possible, individual desires and behaviors would be allowed and supported.
3 The class would be entirely voluntary. It would function only as long as it met a need -- as determined by voluntary participation.
4 The parent committee would provide oversight and guidance for the class.

REVIEW

1 After the first few meetings I summarized for the kids their goals as I perceived them. They wanted to do, not think. They didn't want Dyconstrained by a plan. They wanted everyone to be included and to be together as much as possible.

2 The structure that evolved was that the class met for 4 days each week in a classroom with the tables pushed to the side. From 8 to 25 kids attended, about 12 of whom became "regulars." For two days a week one of the parents planned activities which usually involved someone from the community making a presentation of some kind. The other two days each week, I continued to "facilitate" the kids. They just came and something usually happened. We called it "hanging out."

a) Some of the planned activities which the kids did are listed below:
golfing bowling cheerleading pottery makeup techniques dancing electronics jazzercise body building tai chi drugs/alcohol guitar and singing windsurfing magic show storytelling

b) Some of the "hanging out" activities that the kids decided on during the unplanned times were:
just talking the rhythm game doing puzzles playing basketball "the un-game" poker/roulette 20 questions personal questions board games
paperwad battle sculpture of chairs making a collage

Although the kids showed interest in a wide variety of subject areas, "hanging out" together was usually more important to them than the planned activities. They were drawn into learning experiences more through interest in the group than through interest in a topic.

3 As an add-on to the school program the class did not enjoy much teacher or administration involvement. The level of freedom provided to the children in this setting seemed to threaten the necessary environment of stricter discipline established in other class settings.

4 The tone in the room evolved over time. Disruptiveness and constant need for attention by individuals marked initial sessions. Later, a sense of stability and acceptance came to those students who were regulars. There was a sense of allegiance and friendship among the regulars. Less attention-seeking behavior and critical judgements of others occurred over time as well. Many of these positive changes carried over to the entire school day according to some teacher comments.

5 Occasionally, it was difficult for the parent committee and any adults involved to countenance some of the choices that the kids made in the "hanging out" time. Once, the children began throwing paperwads. In the fashion of a facilitator I asked them if they would rather do the activity of the moment or move to paperwad throwing. They wanted paperwads and organized the room into a battleground. At a later meeting of the parent committee, members were upset when they heard about this. I encouraged the parents who were upset to come and present their concerns to the students directly. This session was an especially important learning experience for the adults, I think, more than the children. Paperwad throwing was an innocent fun aberration to the kids. The adults felt strongly that this shouldn't be a choice of theirs, but struggled to articulate their reasons.

My conclusions from the program that were communicated to the school are:

A) This type of offering appears to meet a critical need for some kids at a specific time in their development. It provides a place for them to experience acceptance of some of their own aberrant behaviors and their feelings and to discuss them.

B) We re-discovered that the social needs of the children at this age far outweigh the importance of adult-directed learning experiences -- certainly in the minds of the kids. The adults involved anticipated that the children would express interest in particular topics. However, when given the chance to choose from among exciting possibilities, the involved kids valued: being together, physical movement, allowing for spontaneous changes of interest, and peer acceptance. Also, it seemed important to the kids that an adult be an accepting part of these things.

C) On the basis of this experience parent feelings about a required seven period day changed. The seventh grade is a unique time of change for children. Extending the normal classroom environment doesn't necessarily meet those unique needs.

PERSONAL REMARKS

Most adults are blessed with feelings of joy and appreciation at the stirrings of babies. It can also be a joy and wonder to witness the strange stirrings of seventh grade, almost-adults. Mostly, however, we do not respond with this sense of appreciation to the urges of these older children. The parent committee for In Left Field responded typically when they heard about the paperwad fight, for example. They were upset and wanted that type of activity stopped. They wanted to angrily yell "You know better than that!" and demand a halt to that sort of thing.

But what kind of inner urge in the children wanted this? And where was the appreciation of such urges? Does this life stirring deserve the opportunity to live? And, why should these activities elicit such strong feelings from the parents?

To the credit of all, anger was restrained. There was discussion. There was respect for the kids, for this strange urge. "Why did you want to do this? We don't feel that school is the place for such things," parents said.

I am not suggesting, by the way, that children or adults, ignore the need to respect property and others. I am not necessarily recommending that teachers change their way of teaching. However, I do believe that each urge of each child (and each adult) needs some time and place where it is respected. In Left Field was such a time. Crazy urges were respected in each student, by each student, and by the adult in the room.

As another example, a common urge for students in this classroom was to stand on the tables. It was almost automatic. Why this aggression? Similarly automatic, some adult urge would have us say "Get down from there!" But what if both urges are to be respected? What if this adult urge to say "no" carries no more authority than the seventh grade urge to jump up on the school table? If both are accepted, and one does not dominate the other, then we are left in the creative lurch of these seeming opposites.

In this lurch it's easy to back away from the tension and say "I guess I don't really care" or "Just get down because I say so." To stay in the lurch we must begin to learn more about these urges. We must begin to understand more about who we are and to respect what life really is. This is the stuff of psychoanalysis and of everyday life. Why do I need so strongly for her to get down? Because I'm afraid of something . . . the table might be broken? that I will be judged by some onlooker as being too lenient? that the student could be hurt? that this leniency will open the dikes to allow even more urges? Maybe this last answer is it. If I allow this urge of hers to stand on the table, what else? What other urges in her . . . . and in me. . . must I then allow? In this case no answer works well enough for me to enact my automatic impulse to tell the student to get down. I'm stuck. I don't really think the table will be broken. I don't think the student will be hurt, either. I am concerned about adults who may pass by, but this is unlikely. What about my personal pledge to respect these urges? The temptation is to rely on a pseudo answer. . . ."because it's just not done," or, "because this isn't the place." These answers are aggressive. I can impose my urge, strike out, control this other person, and cloak my act in the guise of reason and justifiable passion. Society will back me up. It's a power play, though. This is true aggression.

The creative lurch of holding these two conflicting urges is why In Left Field had value. Something changed in me. My urge to control is transformed. I become a true facilitator. Something is changed in the kids as well. The seventh grader who stands on the table is striving for life. He/she acts from desperation, although not consciously. In Left Field supports this small act of aggression, helping to reclaim lost bits of creative passion that might yet live.

FOLLOW UP

It's a new school year and the parent committee has disbanded. The parental urge for the extra period of class instruction is gone. I need to get on with my consulting. The students passed around a petition asking for In Left Field to be offered again. The student council talked about it but there isn't a strong push to make it happen.