Mindfulness in the Classroom

This week’s article summary is Why Mindfulness and Trauma-Induced Teaching Don't Always Go Together.

Beyond its intriguing title (I’d never heard the term trauma-induced teaching), the article provides an explanation of Mindfulness and its potential uses in schools.

When I was in 7^th grade, I moved to a Quaker school after having attended my local public elementary school. For the next six years I had a 45-minute weekly Quaker Meeting where all students and faculty sat in silence in a rustic Meeting House. (For those unfamiliar with the Quakerism, there are no clergy, choir, or sermons—just a group of people sitting in silence. Quakers believe that everyone can develop a personal, direct relationship with God and that the pomp and circumstance of other religions distract from that relationship.) I had never experienced communal silence before, and it took me a number of years for Quaker meeting to become for me what my Head of School called “the most important appointment of the week.” As I matured and became more comfortable with both group silence and my own thoughts, I grew to appreciate this weekly opportunity for personal quiet and reflection time. I’m sure others pondered spiritual and philosophical matters but for me these 45 minutes were a time where I could slow down and think about my life and what sort of person I was and wanted to be. To this day I miss weekly Quaker Meeting and the ironic collective energy that emanates from a group of people sitting quietly.

I think my fondness for Quaker Meeting is why Mindfulness has connected for me.

To me, Mindfulness is simply the opportunity to look inward and strengthen self-awareness and self-regulation skills. I see Mindfulness as a means to better understand myself and my emotions, and through this understanding to be more able to consciously respond to external stimuli rather than to react without thought. Through the years in Quaker Meetings and then through Mindfulness meditation, I have become less apt to let my emotions dictate how I interact with others and react to external situations, both good and bad. It’s not that I am devoid of feelings and emotions; it’s that I am more aware of them and decide to what I extent I share them with and speak to others. As the article points out, this is an empowering feeling and it has strengthened both my sense of self and my relationships with others, two social-emotional goals we have for our students at Trinity.

Mindfulness helps me take a metaphorical deep breath before acting, and those few seconds grant me time to act in a conscious versus subconscious manner. And in today’s technology-connected world , a few minutes of quiet, reflective time help my mind and body get in sync.

As you’ll see in the article, there is no one way to practice Mindfulness, and we all need to find a style that suits us. I don’t need the lotus position, deep breathing, or a mantra; I just sit quietly with my eyes closed and let my brain think freely.

As a reminder, feel free to stop by and join Pat Kerner and others in weekly Mindfulness meditation, which last about 15 minutes or so—while we’re all busy, I’m confident you will find the time soothing and energizing and you might then try it with your students.

Joe

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Mindfulness is a fast growing trend in schools. Teachers are turning to the practice as a simple way to restore calm to the classroom, help students find some quiet space, and build self-regulation skills.

But it’s also important to realize that some of the ways mindfulness is practiced -- sitting still, eyes closed, in silence -- can also be triggers for students who have experienced trauma.

“This isn’t about calming down,” said Sam Himelstein, a clinical psychologist, trainer and author who has spent most of his career working with incarcerated youth. “Calming down is great and it is a skill that youth can get better at. But if we’re talking about mindfulness, at its core, we are just talking about being present with whatever it is.”

Himelstein has worked with teachers who get upset when students don’t want to engage in mindfulness a certain way -- perhaps they don’t want to close their eyes or won’t sit the recommended way. But none of those things are truly about mindfulness, Himelstein said. Forcing students to engage with the practice in prescribed ways may do more harm than good, especially if the student has experienced trauma.

“You never want to force people to close their eyes,” he said. That alone can cause trauma for some kids. “The goal is not to turn people into meditation monks. It’s just about learning to turn inwards and practice self-awareness.”

When Himelstein explains mindfulness to young people he likes to use a metaphor coined by Larry Rosenberg the dog-mind versus the lion-mind. If a human waves a bone in front of a dog, the dog will track that bone and chase it when it’s thrown. But wave a bone in front of a lion’s face and that lion might eat the human behind the bone.

The dog can’t see beyond the bone. If I control the bone, I control the dog’s reality. But the lion sees a broader picture. He sees the human behind the bone. That ability to see the larger picture gives the lion more autonomy, more choices.

Himelstein directs students to think of the bone as anger or anxiety. Reacting with the mind of a lion allows a person to say, “I’m angry right now,” and that little bit of metacognitive space between the person and the thought allows them to choose how to respond.

“It’s much easier said than done, but that’s what mindfulness is,” Himelstein said. “It’s noticing what’s happening in the present moment with a non-responsive mind.” When he’s presenting to youths, he asks them: Who’s the king of the jungle? The lion. And who doesn’t want to be the king of their inner jungle?

Himelstein has found that teens gravitate to this metaphor because it makes the concept less abstract. They can see how mindfulness will be useful to them and how it could give them an edge. Additionally, the metaphor becomes a language thread Himelstein can return to over and over again. “Lion-mind” is a shorthand for that ability to choose a reaction.

Himelstein says building an authentic relationship is key to accessing the trust required to make mindfulness effective. For some kids, chaos is part of trauma so when adults are unpredictable they can’t be trusted. That’s why being a “predictable adult” is a good way to be authentic with kids.

Himelstein also offers these guidelines for teachers using mindfulness:

• Don’t force it

• Don’t focus on the logistics like sitting with eyes closed

• Somatic awareness, like counting breaths, could be a good place to start. “There’s different types of awareness. Sometimes we’re really aware of what’s going on in the mind and sometimes we’re more aware of what’s going on in the body.”

• Build relationships firs

“Classroom management skills that are based in trauma informed principles, which means learning how to redirect, learning how to confront people with a non-aggressive pose, not taking it personally, all of that overlaps to help form a relationship,” Himelstein said.

If teachers can see the trauma-informed approach as a way to better build relationships, he thinks it may feel less daunting. Once those relationships are formed and students trust their teachers, it’s more likely that mindfulness will be an effective tool for them.

Many teachers already see relationship building as a core part of their effectiveness, but one practice Himelstein recommends may be less intuitive in the rush to deliver information to students: active listening. “That’s a super simple concept, but it goes a long way, especially in an educational setting because kids are used to not just being presented to, but talked down to,” Himelstein said.

Ultimately, Himelstein wants teachers to be aware of how students who have experienced trauma might be experiencing mindfulness in the classroom so they can respond in more empathetic ways. And, recognizing that sometimes teaching is traumatic and the practice may be more for the adults than the kids.