Unsuspectingly, got hit by a hurricane. Then, uber-prepared, the hurricane never came — more like impossibly clear skies sprinkled by flash lightning storms.
Welcome to the first day of school. (“It’s not school!” six-year-old Vihan impatiently informed me this morning. “You’re right,” I agreed hastily, worrying that the school moniker would conjure negative predispositions. “What do you think we should call it?” “The Expanding Minds Program,” he replied, straight-faced. That… happens to be the exact name of the program. “All right,” I consented. While it may not be “school,” Vihan just schooled me.)
Today was about students and teachers getting a sense of our space and each other — characteristics, limits, resources, values. It was also chockful of sensory experiences: the chaos of 15 five- to seven-year-olds; the eerie silence of 9 seven- to nine-year-olds; sticky fingers from floam play and glue shmearing; the squishiness of mashing flower petal pulp and sliding barefoot on poster paint; tongue-twisting names (mine for them, Adit and Sidanthika for me); limb-constraining contexts (sitting on the carpet for meeting isn’t easy for anybody); light shifts, from the darkness of our simulated cave to the brightness of our clear-windowed/chandelier-rocking/riotously colorful decor; auditory challenges (can you hear the clap/chimes above the din? can you detect the subtle th embezzled in the t of Adit?); et cetera, et cetera, et cetera…*
When it comes to sense-making, rolling up your sleeves and getting hands-on is arguably the way to go. In terms of my own cultural education, that… happens to be the exact nature of the program. No better way to learn about a people’s particularities and all people’s similarities than being there.
How will our sense of it all shift over time, and what new capacities will we develop by engaging our bodies, ourselves in contexts of novelty and risk?
*as the Asian native would intone to his Western-imported schoolmistress…