The Chakra

Let’s begin with this precious nugget: “Craig, I love the Messi analogy, and I agree. I think it serves as a metaphor for so many of the children in international schools. Our son, who although a New Zealander, was born in Italy, and he insists on being ‘Italian.’ He always says, ‘it is in my heart mummy.’ And he is determined, like Messi, to play football for Barca, and yet the only sport he actively supports is Indian Cricket.”

Today’s entry is the one-page synthesis of the 17 pages of comments (font 11) I received to the question: How can the “Messi” anecdote serve as a metaphor for ‘who our students are today’ and ‘who they might evolve into some day?’

Here’s the poster-child: “Our eldest son attended play group in Vietnam, Prep School in Kuala Lumpur, Grades 1-4 in Singapore, Grade 5-6 in Jakarta and now 7th at ASB.” It’s not just the children; it’s us adults aswell. A father wrote this: “My wife and I come from different faiths, Hinduism and Islam. Our best friends are Indian, Syrian, Italian, Balinese and Ethiopian. Our daughters know more about Christmas and Easter than Diwali or Eid.”

It sounds crazy doesn’t it? Well, at least it does to a 5th grade boy. Here’s his entire note to me: “Mr. Johnson, my mom asked me to read your blog. Having read it, here is what I think. I don’t know exactly what a metaphor is, but I think that it could show that many kids here at our school  have lived crazy lives. And we are different from our friends and families back
home.” He went on to write about how the students and parents here are “different from everybody except each other.” By “each other” he meant the other ASB kids with “crazy lives.”

But, it’s important to know that our “crazy lives” don’t necessary make us “better” than those with less craziness in their lives. One father offers us a healthy dose of humble perspective when he writes: “My son is Irish. He’s lived outside of Ireland more than in it. He will always call Ireland home, but his life experiences are much ‘larger’ than someone who has only lived in Ireland. This doesn’t mean he is better; just different.” I hope we would all agree.

And then there’s blissful-frustration. A mother-born and raised in Mumbai-wrote: “If I had put my son in the same school, I attended as a child (which was the original plan); I would know exactly how to be his mother, in regards to his educational experience. And my parents would think I was a great parent. However, we decided, against the opinion of our entire extended
family, to put him at ASB instead. Two years later, my husband and I know this is the best decision we have ever made, but we have no idea how to be an effective parent for the kind of education our son is receiving. We love what he is going through, the quality of education he is receiving, but we often feel helpless, and torn. We don’t really understand it; we have no experience to
compare to his experiences.” She ends by saying, “And, this is probably more information than you want to hear, but my parents think I am a disaster as a mother when it comes to their grandson’s education.” I wrote back to her, as I did to all those I’m quoting today, and asked if I could use xcerpts from her email in today’s blog. She said, “Please do. I want other parents, who are struggling with coming to terms with understanding ASB’s 21st Century education, and a parent’s role in it, to know they are not alone.” So, there you have it.

Many of you responded with short phrases of characteristics or attributes you believe your children are developing, as part of their ASB experience. The most common theme was one of “respect of diversity.” A parent wrote about this ability saying, “When I see my daughter socialize with children her age, here in India and when we travel, I am shocked, and obviously very proud, by how accepting she is of people. She gets along with everybody. And I’m shocked because she wasn’t like that three years ago. That happened at ASB.”

However, according to many of you, it’s not as simple as it sounds. One father, states, “To achieve this-this respect for diversity–students have to do more than just live overseas and attend an international school. They need to embrace the differences around them. Not just acknowledge it, but appreciate it. That’s where ASB comes in.”

And then there’s this beautiful image of a puzzle. A mother writes: “Our children pick pieces from different cultures and add them to who they are as an individual. They become unique puzzles. They no longer come from a factory with tons of others like them; they’ve been individually crafted and put together carefully. They can no longer be put into a single category; they have established a category of their own. And just like Messi, they are special!” Another parent wrote something very similar when he wrote: “Let’s hope the spirit of being a unique individual, and not being defined by too many labels, stays with our children
forever.”

Thank you all for your insightful and inspiring thoughts. I want to end with an excerpt from a 10th grade girl, who believes that
“…students, [coming from schools like ASB] are the voice of the future, the laughter of today, and that they are forward-movers, never lingering long on the past.” She believes most ASB students can do anything “their wildest dreams and deepest imaginations” can think of. She believes ASB students will change the world.

Oh, I sure hope so.

Thanks for reading and responding,

Craig

As you all SHOULD know, Kolkata hosted a friendly soccer match between the national teams of Argentina and Venezuela last week. Here’s a quote from the Sports’ Section of the Times of India: “Lionel Messi, although an Argentine by birth, no longer plays soccer like an Argentine.  Having grown up in Spain and having played for the Barcelona club most of his life, he plays like something completely different.  Messi’s style, his character, and his vision of the game are no longer Argentine; but they are not Spanish or Barca either. Messi is, well, he’s something unique, something ‘else’ altogether.  Who he is as a soccer player defies a label, it will not be contained, and it cannot be described other than to say:  Messi plays like Messi.”

So, here’s the question (I would very much appreciate receiving any responses I can get): Knowing that the student-communities of International and American Schools Overseas are usually comprised of individuals from 50+ countries, who speak 20+ languages, and believe in 15+different religions and faiths (not to mention all the other layers of diversity), how can the “Messi” anecdote serve as a metaphor for “who are students are today” and “who they may evolve into some day?”

I ended last week’s entry with this short paragraph: “His last and final question brought a smile to my face; and then, as I answered him, I laughed. I laughed because he is a 14 year-old boy, and that’s the kind of question I expect from 14 year-old boys. What do you think the question was? If you want to know, send a note and ask.”

Well, as it turns out, my 14-year-old turned out to be someone many readers were interested in. And within minutes of posting the entry the most engaging 72-hour conversation began between me and you–my readers.

So, this week, I thought I’d share some of the responses and excerpts from our conversations.

Most of your requests for the “final question” were short and precise and looked exactly like this: “I want to know!”

Others were different. One parent wrote: “This future mom, of a 14-year-old boy (11 years away), wants to know.” Some of you used capital letters, like this parent: “WHAT was the question? I hate the suspense!” Another wrote saying “I NEED to know.” And yes, she took the time to bold-face and underline the verb “to NEED.” I responded to her IMMEDIATELY.

A few of you were more philosophical about it. As in, “Please elucidate – this has been a most interesting read.” One reader’s “need to know” was also analytical, he wrote: “Craig, any insight into an adolescent’s head is a rare phenomenon. So, please share.” This line of thinking-regarding the phenomenon we know as the “adolescent”- was expanded by another reader who wrote, “OK, my curiosity has peaked.” She went on to admit, “I can perhaps guess what goes on in the mind of a fourteen year old adolescent boy, but won’t.”
In all, I received responses from at least 14 different countries. This one came from the United States: “Greetings from NYC, I’m stuck between an earthquake and hurricane, so I’ll bite. What was the 3rd question?”

Asking for the final question wasn’t all my readers did. Many of you did much more than that. Thirty-eight of you offered what you thought the question might be.  Here are a few snippets from your emails:

• “What are my chances of making the team?”  
• “Will we get a chance to socialize on trips?”
• “The question had to be about food and entertainment. Right?
• “After questions about homework and playing time, what else is on the mind of a 14-year-old boy? Perhaps a question about “why the girl’s soccer team plays at a different time?”
• “Something about your record for winning as a coach?”
• “My mind is boggled with many possibilities, but I am going to put in only one. Did he ask, “Do I get to carry my Iphone or any electronic gadget?”

One reader wrote to me sharing her thoughts and within seconds I received another email from her. The second one said this: “Whew. Craig, when I sent out my response to you, a minute ago, I panicked because I thought [it would go public for all readers]. I breathed a sigh of relief when [I realized] it went only to you.” Having read her second note, wouldn’t you all just love to know what she thought the question was? I’m not telling.

Anyway, once I started sending you the “final question.” The conversations evolved. Here’s a look at what came back from you once you knew the young man’s final question was: “Will there be girls watching me play?”

• “That’s priceless!”
• “And here’s me thinking his question was about the offside rule in soccer.”
• “I knew that was the answer!! I was going to ask, if the question related to girls.”
• “How refreshingly honest!”
• “Ha ha ha, I knew it.”
• “Certainly an impressive order of priorities for a 14 year old.”

One mother ‘s response, to discovering the final question, was: “I think you’re talking about my son.” This was a reader from my school, so at first her comment made me nervous. What if she was right? What if I was talking about her son? I didn’t know the parent, or whether or not my 14-year old protagonist was her son. So, I wrote back saying, “I’m not sure if he’s your son or not…” The mother responded, “I was only kidding, my son is in Kindergarten.” I was relieved; but being an educator, and a father of three sons, I had to warn her about something. So, I wrote back saying, “Your son might be in Kindergarten, but one never knows at what developmental age a boy, or a girl for that matter, might ask Are the girls (or in the case of a girl, “Are the boys…”) going to watch me play?” To which she replied. “LOL!”

One father wrote to me, perhaps speaking for many fathers and mothers out there, with: “I too would welcome the opportunity to think like a 14-year old boy again – albeit for a moment!”

And so the conversations continued through the first day and into the second. By Monday, I had received and sent over 500 emails. Luckily my wife was out of town, visiting our sons back in the States, for the week, so this enry had became my companion. It was an absolute blast. So, thank you to everyone who jumped in on my prompt. We will do it again soon.

I want to end by sharing a lengthier excerpt. This one could be the nudge for another conversation. A mother sent me this:

“Craig, I’m dying to know what the question is. I have a 15 year old son, who is just as precocious as the one described and I don’t have a clue about what goes on in his mind. We were having dinner at a 5-star restaurant last week. Clearly an expensive and special treat. Out of the blue, he asked me if he was allowed to date. I told him he was. Then he said, this is where I’ll come on a date. My husband and I were flabbergasted. A 15 year old, going on his first date, and to a 5-star restaurant…”

Yes, there’s no doubt as parents and educators we have much more to talk about; many more topics to explore. And miles and miles before we sleep…

Until next week, Craig

It all began with a question.

“Is there an official time-slot, set aside, for us to do our homework during the tournament?” he asked.

 Let me explain: Last week my High School had their annual Activity Fair. This is a 45-minute block of time where coaches and sponsors of the different sports, events, and clubs provide students with information and answer questions regarding the activities. I’m the coach of the Varsity Boys’ Soccer team.

The question above came from a 9th grade boy. He approached my booth with a pad, a pen, an inquisitive face, and three questions. 

“So, you’re making your rounds,” I said. 

“Yes, Sir,” he responded. “I am exploring the possibilities, and doing my research on how I might get involved in the various co-curricular programs.” 

I was impressed by how articulate he was, and by how clear he was about his mission. His mission is not an easy one because the American School of Bombay offers 152 co-curricular programs. This is an absolutely phenomenal bouquet for a school of 700 students. In fact, if an ASB student says “There’s nothing offered for me,” well, they’re wrong, and obviously haven’t looked hard enough. 

 Anyway, back to the young man’s question. He had asked “Is there an official time-slot, set aside, for us to do our homework during the tournament?” The tournament he was referring to is one of the three Varsity Tournaments ASB participates in every year. They are 4-day events where 200 athletes from nine schools, representing five countries descend upon a host school. The competition is built around sports; but as in all educationally-linked activities, so much more happens, on so many important levels, beyond the actual games.

 But my blog today is about his question. I find it exceptionally provocative (from a philosophical perspective) and highly relevant to the question: What is a 21st Century Education? However, I didn’t know the actual answer when he asked. In fact, I still haven’t asked our Activities Director for the answer. I told the young man, “I don’t know.” He clearly didn’t expect that answer from me; I am after all, the Superintendent of the school, and I should probably know things like this.

For several long second I didn’t say anything else.  I waited for his follow-up, but he didn’t have one for almost 20 seconds. He just stared at me with a sort-of are-you-kidding look. And when he realized I was serious, and really didn’t know whether there were “official time-slots set aside for homework,” he said, “Well, how can I find out?” What followed was a most delightful conversation, but I won’t share any more of it here.

 I have since seen him several times at car-drop off, in the hallways, and at lunch.  He now says, “Hi Coach.” I guess that means he plans to come out for soccer in October. I’m glad.

 But, the reason I write of him and his question today, is because his question (again, one I do not have the answer to yet) sits at the fundamental core of education and schools. There is no right answer to his question. There are just two different answers; each symbols of deeply different fundamental truths.

 He asked: “Is there an official time-slot set aside for homework during the tournament?” If the answer is “YES,” it means one very powerful thing; if the answer is “NO,” it means a completely different, and just as powerful, thing.

 I’m excited, nervous, and even a bit hesitant to discover ASB’s answer to the question. I hope the answer is consistent with our mission and core values. Consistent with my beleifs, my code, and I think it will be. 

Oh, before I forget: He asked me two other questions; again both primal in their roots and provocative in how they can be interpreted. His second question was, “How much playing time can each player expect to get at the tournament?” I had the answer to that one, and it is consistent with who we are as a school.

His last and final question brought a smile to my face; and then, as I answered him, I laughed. I laughed because he is a 14 year-old boy, and that’s the kind of question, as a father of three sons, have come to expect from 14 year-old boys. What do you think the question was? If you want to know, ask me in a comment to this post.

Earlier this week I had a dream in which I was speaking Hindi.  I’m not sure what I said in the dream, since I don’t understand Hindi, but I was most certainly speaking Hindi. India has not only infiltrated my dreams, it’s everywhere. And the longer I spend in Mumbai, and the deeper I become immersed in the culture of the American School of Bombay, the more pronounced India becomes in me. In other words, my “thoughts” are becoming Indianized; my Vichar (literally “thoughts” in Hindi) are no longer structured like they were a year ago.  They are, well…different!

I could explain the aphorism “Indianized thoughts” a billion different ways (one for every India on the sub-continent), but I’ve chosen to use the words of Gregory David Roberts, the author of Shantaram, to help me.

This quote comes early in the book, when the protagonist is experiencing his first train ride. The author’s narration of the “hustle-and-bustle of getting on the train” followed by the “calm and tranquility of the journey” is a powerful metaphor for India, and for the world, here in Mumbai, where we have chosen to live our lives. He writes:

 “…the scrambled fighting and courteous deference were both expressions of the one philosophy: the doctrine of necessity. The amount of force and violence necessary to board the train, for example, was no less and no more than the amount of politeness and consideration necessary to ensure that the cramped journey was as pleasant as possible afterwards. What is necessary? That was the unspoken, but implied and unavoidable, question everywhere in India. When I understood that, a great many of the characteristically perplexing aspects of public life became comprehensible. [And there is no doubt in my mind] that if there were a billion Frenchmen or Australians or Americans or [other ex-pats] living in such a small space, the fighting to board the train would be much worse, and the courtesy afterwards much less.

 On Monday, India, as a democracy in the 20^th century, turns 64 years old. However, if you look at the birth of India from a different perspective – considering the fact that the cities of Mohenjo-daro and Harappa are the birth places of earth’s first civilizations – well, then we’re actually turning 4500 years old on Monday.  

Rabindranath Tagore’s poem, Jana Gana Mana - now India’s national anthem – speaks of India’s destiny as one that “rouses hearts” and “mingles music and beauty” with “a people full of gratitude and praise.” The poem ends with this chant of victory:

 Jaya he jaya he jaya he
Jaya jaya jaya jaya he!

I’d like to wish every school around the world–all students, teachers and parents– that they open the 2011-2012 school-year with the words of Tagore’s chant. I hope your experiences this year, whereever you may be, rouse your hearts and that the diversity within our community, in all its configurations, basks over you like beautiful music.  Regardless of everything that is on fire in the world today, if you are reading this it means you are someone who has much to be grateful for.  You are on a computer somewhere reading a blog! You are free, and you are not hungry, and you can read.  You are lucky, you have the potential to make your dreams come true. Who knows, perhaps you to are dreaming in a language not your own!  I wish it so.

It’s August 10th.

At my school that’s our ”Start of the New School Year Eve.” I guess, as the Superintendent of the American School of Bombay, it is appropriate—if not expected—for me to send a note to my faculty and staff tonight.. After all, our students arrive tomorrow, which means: We can actually begin to do our thing!

 Writing the note is a no-brainer.  However, “what to write” is the difficult question. I could tell them about enrollment growth and our wait-pool (as the only American School in the city we are the  “school of choice” for a booming ex-pat and returning NRI population–we have a corner on the market, a monopoly on our clientel; this is a boon and a curse, a luxury and a massive responsibility– and a topic for a different blog some other time). Or I could give them a detailed update on where we are on the “facility expansion” front (we should have board approval for a new site within hours). Or I could share a few powerful anecdotes about our new families (three were evacuated from Libya, two are coming out of the Norwegian tragedy, and 7 have husbands/fathers in war-zones). Or I could write about the provocative insights from a few returning teacher who spent the vacation feeding the starving, cleaning up sewers, building roofs over families that had none, and taught reading to adults in Nepal. 

Yes, I could write about many such things; but I won’t. Not tonight.

 Tonight there’s something else I’d like to say to my people, and here it is: The only frontier truly worth exploring, in our business, is that which succeeds in elevating our students—and, in the process, our entire community; and thus, mankind—to a higher state of being; one on which a better world may perhaps, one day, be built.

 I am convinced that in order to “get there” (to that final frontier–to Hamlet’s “Paragon of Animals”) we must restructure schools; and redefine this thing called “education.” I am convinced, beyond any doubt whosoever–and here is an analogy only a few of you will get–, that our spaghetti structures (the schools of today; which are in essence the schools of the 19th century) are no longer capable of holding up our precious marshmallows (the students we have been entrusted with).

 In the end, no new physical structures, space or facilities; no decreased class size or co-teaching structures; no integrated-technology, or “things” or “stuff” no matter how spectacular–not even the holy grail of learning Mandarin–will make an iota of difference unless we unequivocally commit to, and succeed in, shattering our current educational paradigm for THE system this new century demands. The time for evolution is so very passed us by.  Revolution is all that is left. 

JFK once said ”we are going to the moon.”  The metaphor is blindingly appropriate today. We–us lucky few at the American School of Bombay–choose the moon–this revolution in education–not because it is easy, but because it is hard, because it is right, and because it is good.

Like I said: Tonight is the eve of a new school year. There is only one “first day of school” every year, and it is tomorrow. Our students will remember tomorrow forever. I hope we do something, here and at schools around the world, worth remembering.

1. Clean up the filth & litter, cut corruption by 50% and India emerges as 1 of the most livable &workable countries in the world. Other than the filth and corruption (the reason there are no trashcans) there are no other downsides to India. They have it all: Culture, Cuisine, Weather, People, Opportunities, Geography, and its all still very affordable.
2. Is it good news or bad news that Danish officials say the  ”bombing is not linked to Islamic Terror.” And, further–or more curious–is it good news or bad news that one of the first questions asked of the tragedy was: Is it Islam?
3. “If I had 8 hrs to chop a tree down, I’d spend 6 sharpening my ax,” said Lincoln. My question/concern: In today’s workplace are we sharpening axes or just chopping as fast as we can?
4. 10M users move to Google+ in 16 days. Why did they move? All 10M already had Facebook, and more. Did they move because it’s “new” or because it is “better?” What has power today: Being “new” or Being “better?” I worry because I think I know the answer!
5. “A brave man is a man who dares to look the Devil in the face and tell him he is a Devil.” –James A. Garfield
6. London School of Business launched a Global MBA entirely through Facebook. the “evolution” in Education is becoming,  by necessity a “Revolution.” And when there’s a revolt: Someone is getting overthrown!
7. In 1989 Univ. Phoenix had 12 students in online courses. Today .iTunes Univeristy has 350’000 college lectures from over 800 universities on line. They have Oxford, Stanford, Yale, MIT, and much more.  And it’s all free! Who and What are headed into obscurity, soon to be obsolete?
8. If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more and become more, you are a leader–John Quincy Adams
9. This is only the beginning: West Virginia takes a two-year hiatus on buying textbooks–it goes all-digital. http://t.co/Vo13qCr
10. New Law, ‘No Politician Left Behind,’ Pay Congressmen Based on Performance. Law Draws Howls of Protest from Lawmakers. http://t.co/Ukrp9vN
11. No leads-Mumbai attacks because it makes no sense, there’s no enemy, no target, no objective, no clear sides; just hate!http://t.co/w3rW2b6
12. Someone at the 2011 Annual Academy for International School Heads has the research to suggest that by 2018 50% of all K-12 course-work will be delivered online and off-site.
13. HBR’s L. Prusak: One thing to get right about collaboration is TRUST. There is collaboration without it, but not productive or sustainable.

21st Century Curriculum–Designed by 3 Bomb Blasts in Mumbai:

Indian authorities have confirmed that on July 13^th there were three explosions in Mumbai: At the Opera House district, Jhaveri Bazar, and at Dadar West.

India, as we all know—and that’s why many of us have chosen to live, work, and raise our families here—is one of the most remarkable countries in the world; an ancient civilization that never ceases to amaze me on an intellectual, spiritual, and emotional level every single day. And I mean it when I say: Every Single Day!

Like most who live in India, I love this country. I feel safer here than anywhere I have ever lived, and I’ve lived in Tonkawa, Oklahoma! Last year, my first year back in Mumbai, after being gone 20 years (I grew up in India from 1970-1981), I felt more engaged with humanity (with this thing called “life”) than ever before.

However, having said all of that, this too is true: Entrenched in India’s enormous and complex beauty there is something else. Down in the deepest, darkest places of India’s psyche there are pockets of fear, and pain, and loss, and agony, and hatred.  There is no doubt that India has come far, in the last few decades, in confronting, acknowledging, and dealing with the hate; come far in their healing process. Yet bombs exploded last night, and will probably explode again before they stop for good.

Ironically, in the wake of last night’s incident, I spent this morning visiting possible sites on which the American School of Bombay plans to expand our school.  I think this morning’s excursion was symbolic of my hope for and faith in the future.  I mean, here I was out and about town “campus-shopping,” the day after three bombs exploded. As a matter of fact, my efforts had more momentum, and a stronger sense of purpose.  After all, Mumbai needs outstanding International Schools; it needs access to the best schools in the world. In fact, India and the rest of the world need more outstanding 21st Century International schools.  After all,  schools, and the children we have the privileged to work with, are the solution.

I guess writing on my blog tonight is my way of saying: As an educator living in India, the bombs did not terrorize me, they energized me.  I’m jazzed, more than ever, about the future role of education here in India (especially in my beloved Maximum City), and around the globe.

Little do the terrorist know, but with every bomb, with every act of hate, on their part our curriculum gets stronger and our students more prepared to save the world.