Demon Summoning and Stargazing

Part III

This is how the annual tradition of taking a group of worthy kids to Shaw Nature Reserve began.

I've been asked many times about this experience. Administrators, teachers, and parents want to know about not just the overnight itself, but the overarching, loving, and even familial bond that took root among the students in that Creative Writing class. They have asked how I formed such cohesion with a group of kids of various skill levels, racial identities, sexual identities, gender identities, and distinctiveness in just about every other descriptor associated with diversity.

Every time, I struggle to provide a clear answer because I've been trying to arrive at that answer myself. Who wouldn't want to recreate that magic? Who wouldn't want that level of love and trust in every classroom, anywhere?

First, let me say there was no "I" in this. I did not sit down as a teacher and say, "How do I get these kids to call one another family? To not just say it, but exhibit it during every class period? To take risks, to squabble and resolve, to laugh together, cry together, lean on one another?"

I would never have the courage to claim I have the skill or finesse to orchestrate such a thing. Instead, allow me to list some of the behaviors that facilitated habits of risk in our daily routines.

We acknowledged that writing is sometimes scary and always deeply personal work.

We took part in open sharing circles when everyone had to say something positive about their own writing as well as the writing of someone else.

We allowed flexible seating.

We made peer editing an option, not a requirement. Eventually, they all embraced this option as they learned to embrace one another.

We discussed topics other educators may consider taboo, and no words were devalued.

We held one another to high standards. If one of us succeeded, we all succeeded. If one of us screwed up and got suspended, we all felt and processed that hurt.

We never said "no" to an idea. We just asked questions.

We weren't afraid of getting loud with creative noise, but we also recognized the importance of perfect silence to the brain and soul.

And, yes, we had adventures together that took us out of our comfort zones and allowed us to push ourselves as well as one another to new heights.

For all of those reasons, we became a family. I'll never forget those kids. I'll never forget the tears in Tanni's eyes, the courage it took to fight through a mounting panic attack and scale that hill to see the stars.

And, no, I'll never forget that cross, either. It disappeared in the middle of the night, and no one ever saw it again.