This ain’t workin’.

Yesterday, I finally sat down to some serious book work (August is closer than it seems, and I have vowed to avoid my habits of procrastination). Hoping to find a flow, I stumbled into a stop. And just like that, forty minutes in, I was lost, and a mini-crisis crept into my being, as I confronted doubt for the first time, realizing my plan wasn’t going to work. August got closer.

But as I stopped, I remembered. And I turned to my old companions, Do, Reflect, and Do Better (my three amigos), and they pointed the way. And a bit abashedly, I set to reflecting, asking myself two questions:

What do I know?

What do I need to figure out?

And, after a time, what was lost was found. A better idea, more motivation, and a settled spirit. I found my way once again, and–once again–it was reflection who saved me.

But this isn’t supposed to be a post about the progress of the Project 180 book; it’s supposed to shine a light on the creative process, illuminating the necessity of time and reflection, two resources that are scarce in our classrooms. I

think about the creative work (not only in the “artistic” sense) we ask our kids to do, and then I think about the “hurry-them-along” reality of their experiences, and I can’t help but think of how diminished their experiences are because we cannot, do not, (will not?) give them time to learn.

I would suggest that if there’s no real reflection, there’s no real learning. But that takes time, and that runs counter to the educational experience we give our kids. We seem to be content–and confident–that grades in the grade book are sufficient sign posts of learning, but I wonder if they aren’t but bread crumbs that disappear, for there is rarely a way back or time to travel if there is. And that’s learning’s loss. That’s our kids’ loss.

I am lucky. I have time to reflect. I have time to learn. And, importantly, I have a publisher who understands and supports the creative process, so I have time to find what’s working when it’s not. And this is in the real world. Yes, I have a deadline (that can change), and yes, I have a lot of work to do, but, I want to do the work, for I find the work worthy because I am learning. And that is what I want for our kids. Work not to be graded, but work to be worked out, wrestled with, reflected upon. I want our kids to learn–for the rest of their lives. I want them to carry the company of the learner’s constant companions: Do. Reflect. Do Better. That is the company I want them to keep.

Happy Monday, all.

Do. Reflect. Do Better.