Setting the Weather:
A Path to Resilience
I’ve been thinking about resilience a lot lately. Can it be taught?
When I was a senior in high school, I was cut from the volleyball team. My whole world changed in an instant. For many years of my life (5th through 11th grade), part of my identity had included volleyball player. That all came to a screeching halt when I didn’t make the team. My students faced a similar situation when the pandemic hit in March. Our worlds changed in an instant.
Life changing moments do not have to be bad. Knowing that my self-worth was not determined by a handful of high school volleyball coaches, I marched into the athletic director’s office and asked if I could still join the cross country team. The respect I gained in that moment stays with me today.
“I wish more students were like you,” he said. “So many get cut from teams, and they leave bitter. You can absolutely still join the cross country team. They will be thrilled to have you.”
Resiliency requires opportunity. If everything goes as planned, young people are not given the opportunity to persevere. I was 17 years old, and I was resilient. My identity was not defined by getting cut from the volleyball team, it was defined by joining cross country.
Today’s students are learning resilience. In a way, they have been cut from the team. Their identities are in crisis. All of ours are.
My students’ identities are in crisis as learners.
My identity is in crisis as a teacher.
Which leads me to ponder two conflicting ideas: this isn’t about me, and it’s all about me.
For years, my principal would drop this quote by Haim Gott into emails: “I’ve come to a frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element in the classroom. It’s my personal approach that creates the climate. It’s my daily mood that makes the weather.”
I’ve lived and breathed this quote. I still do. I’ve experienced its truth every day of my teaching career. When in my teaching space with students, I have a lot of power. I set the weather.
But now, I’ve also been thinking about how this just isn’t about me. The things that I am used to (facial expressions, back and forth conversations, large group interactions) just can’t happen in the same way. I experienced high school at a period of time in a certain way, and I learned a lot of things. My students are in high school and experiencing it very differently. But that doesn’t mean it’s bad.
For example, an off camera means no brain space wasted on worrying about appearance. Do you remember teenage acne? I certainly do, and at any given time in school, half of my focus was on how I was appearing to others. I am setting the weather by letting go of my need to see their facial expressions. It’s not about me.
It’s still all about me, but it’s really all about them. So much of learning is about creating opportunities — chances to be resilient — and with things being different, I need to be innovative in how I create opportunities. I still set the weather, but I’m not the one embarking on the journey. I’m the clouds and the sun, not the weather man and the raincoat.
I am a high school English teacher attempting to teach young people during a pandemic. Challenges abound, but it’s possible that, as a result, this generation of young people will be the most resilient generation yet.
