Great Teachers

"Look at that guy dad - he's one of the maths teacher. How cool are his laces?"

My daughter is driving to school... logging in 10 minutes of the 120 hours she needs to take her driving test next year. She points out this man waiting to cross the road as we too, wait for a 'green arrow' at the traffic lights on Bell Street. No fashion expert writing here but to the untrained eye he does look cool. A mop of black curly hair under his bicycle helmet, dark clothes and black boots with some striking red laces, brightly standing out. Again - please note, this is not a fashion blog... but there is a 'grunge cool' look there. The maths teacher is alongside some students and looks happy and content, coming to work to teach.

My daughter offers, "you know what is great about my school? All of the teachers love to teach." You cannot buy that kind of endorsement... these are the sorts of compliments that are earned.

Earlier this week, a Time & Space evening at Simonds College, saw a hardy bunch of parents and even a couple of students come together on a cold, wet night. The evening themes focus the discussion around what is most important in life. At all Simonds events, there in the background... present but unassuming is Bernie, the Principal. He is accompanied by about six of his staff. They've just come along to be part of the night. This may not seem particularly remarkable but in the world of schools, teachers get asked along to so many 'extras', that an optional event like this one might get a polite 'no thanks', in most places. My experience is that the Simonds teachers 'rock up'.

In exploring 'what's important', Eder... a young man from the staff talks up in the group discussion. For someone who is relatively early in his career, he speaks from a place of earned authority... one that comes from the respect that the boys at the school have for him.

"I'm not a parent yet... well, I will be a dad in a few months but I want to say that as a teacher, all the best things happen when kids stop and want to chat with me."

"I might be in between classes and in a rush to the next one but I do try and stop and listen to them. If we tell them we are in a hurry, we might miss the moment. I think being a parent must be like that. There are so many reasons why we are too busy but it is in those times that all the good stuff happens."

I remind Bernie, the Principal, of something he had shared with me at an event earlier this year.

"Bernie, you said that when you are interviewing for a new teaching position, you are looking at the person first."

"That's right," Bernie replies, "We can always help them develop their teaching skills, but it is important to get good people."

Good people like Eder and that cool maths teacher with the red laces who loves teaching.

Thanks for taking the Time & Space to read this.

Bill Jennings

http://www.time-space.com.au/

A Quiet Inspiration

A cold rainy night in Hobart earlier this week saw a good crowd of brave people come to St Virgil's College to listen to Stan Alves and find out about the Time & Space programs.

Stan tells his powerful story... we set up a bit of a 'let's move and chat to the people around us' situation. Talk to someone you haven't met... all that usual uncomfortable stuff!

People start to move, react and connect to the powerful messages Stan has had to share about his own dad, about another man who mentored him, helped him train to be a player for the Melbourne Football Club and about his message 'How Lucky Am I?' This message is forged optimistically and comes from some dimensions of Stan's life story where he had to face intense adversity. It is always good to work with Stan. I find something new in his story every time I hear it. It is something to witness how people connect their own experiences to what Stan offers them.

I meet Steven and Annette - what a team! They have a boy at the school who has just started this year. When younger, Steven played at a high level in the Tasmanian State Football Competition. He was a real all rounder, having been a champion in the diving pool as well. I don't find these things out from Steven directly - I get that information from Annette later on. He strikes me as a very humble person.

Steven and Annette just shine and I'm moved by the extraordinary privilege it is to visit schools around Australia, meeting parents who are really having a go at being the best they can be for their kids. We discover we have daughters about the same age. The three of us swap notes. How best do we manage the challenges? We want our girls to be safe as they go out and socialise - how do we balance this with their wishes to be trusted? Here are two people who are just great to be around. There's a strong sense that they have been very intentional about how they have raised their kids. And you know, they have had to be, because...

To have the conversation, the audience were invited down from their tiered seating to stand and mingle on the stage floor below them. Annette had helped Steven down the stairs as I imagine she would have done many times before. She helps by holding, propping, supporting as Steven moves his legs, swinging out in a kind of circling motion, to create a forward momentum so that he can get down from one stair to the next. He laughs a bit as he gets to the stage floor... looks me in the eye, and says kindly, "I'm not drunk you know! It's just that I've got MS."

Annette and Steven explain how their gender roles are a bit non-traditional. Annette kicks the footy with the kids (it doesn't stop Steven from passing on a few tips). Steven explains that Stan's message 'How Lucky Am I', applies to him.

He explains that his dad once asked him if a cure for Multiple Sclerosis was suddenly found, would he be lining up to receive the treatment?

"I told dad, 'no I wouldn't do it' - you see, I've gained so much from this disease. If I didn't have MS, I'd be out working in an office or something like that and missing out on so closely seeing my kids grow up. There are a lot of dads that don't get the chances that I get."

I talk to Annette again later. There is a comfort that Steven has with the world. He got the most out his body prior to the MS onset, when he was able to take himself to high performance levels. Now he is getting the most out of his high performance spirit! Annette states simply, she finds Steven an inspiration.

"He is a great dad", she says. Annette, you're an inspiration as well, just quietly! They are both pretty chuffed when I seek their permission to be 'the story' for this week's post.

Steven seems surprised but offers, "you can write what you like, no worries, but I really don't see myself as that special."

Steven, I'd say that sums up exactly what is special about you.

Thanks for taking the Time and Space to read this.

Bill Jennings

http://www.time-space.com.au/

Old School Fun

Now I know you will probably get a bit suspicious if you read this blog regularly because the star of this post is someone called... yep, you guessed it, Joe. That makes it three 'Joes' now who have featured in recent weeks. I promise you it is not my default name for someone else!

This is Joe, my son's soccer coach.

Joe provided a moment that was just delightful for its simplicity. What he did, got me asking myself questions.

How do kids have fun today?

Is there too much screen time... too much virtual world?

Are we obsessed with safety and cleanliness to the point that childhood is threatened... risk is eliminated? What learning gets lost? What happens to spontaneity?

The key elements to the back story of this great moment are...

1. It is an extremely cold winter here in Melbourne. In recent times there has also been constant rain. The sports grounds have become waterlogged for the first time in years (it looks like Melbourne may be finally emerging from a drought).

2. Despite the very cold winter these kids, who could be at home on their Play Stations, consistently get to training with their coach, Joe.

3. Joe is a volunteer - he comes down and trains my son's team two nights a week, two hours each session after he has worked for the day. He coaches the team on match day Sunday.

4. Joe is great with the kids. He sets expectations - they respect him and respond. He recently, said humbly "I mightn't know much technically but I do know how to build a team spirit".

And that's exactly what he did at a recent training session. The rain had pelted down in the previous days and a sheet of water had spread across the usual spot where the kids train. At the end of training, Joe brought the team over from the other side of the ground and lined them up at the edge of the massive rain puddle that had formed on the ground. It was big enough for them to stand shoulder to shoulder.

"OK", yells Joe "Take three steps back... now on my count... ONE, TWO, THREE - go for it!"

As a unit the kids sprinted towards the pool, flung themselves into the air, stretched their arms forward... landed and slid on their bellies for a few seconds across the water and mud. They were saturated, filthy and incredibly happy!

This was old school fun.

Thanks for taking the Time & Space to read this.

Bill Jennings

http://www.time-space.com.au/

P.S. Released my first e-book last week - enjoy! http://bit.ly/agsyUi

'Alongside' Conversations

Recently, I received a text message from my daughter. Verbatim, I quote…

‘Hey can you pick me up at like 4.15 and we can go for a drive yeah?? :)’.

She writes like she talks but… like there were not as many ‘likes’ as she like, usually like puts into her like normal-like speech patterns.

Do you resonate with what I’m… like, saying here?

Sometimes the best conversations occur when you are on your way somewhere. Let’s face it. The modern parent is a taxi service to their kids. And with my daughter being 17 years old, we are racking up the hours in her Learner Driver log book as well.

I find that no matter where we are at as dad and daughter (and sometimes that is a challenging place), driving alongside each other is pretty soothing. In Victoria (Australia), Learner Drivers have to spend 120 hours behind the wheel with a supervisor alongside them to be allowed to apply for their driver’s license. We could see that 120 hours as a massive hassle or, as an extraordinary opportunity.

What I am learning is that as we drive, there are quiet periods. Quite often my daughter will start talking about something a friend has said… something that is really capturing her at school – the important thing is that it comes from her first. It might be the motion of the car – it is carrying us somewhere – but talk can be different when we are side to side, not face to face.

As adults, often, we drive the discussion (if it can even be called a ‘discussion’). We bark the instructions and set the expectations. Leaving a gap for stuff to come up is key and even if your ‘parent-teenage child’ relationship is strained at times, I reckon regular ‘alongside’ time leaves that space for communication lines to have another channel.

Earlier this year, I read something on the day I started this Time & Space venture full-time. I was asked to consider what it is that I want to say to the world. Two things came to mind.

Firstly, we are not perfect. Our own parents were not perfect (and don’t we remember that), we are not perfect (and no doubt, our kids will remind us of this) and my prediction is that despite the fact that they currently believe that they will be the coolest parents to their own future kids, our children will not turn out to be perfect parents. We live in a world that assumes perfection - the media portrays images of super-parents and I believe that can put pressure on mums and dads trying their best with their kids. After all, my daughter gets 'L-Plates', then 'P-Plates' in her driver training but there is no license issued for being a parent!

The other thing I have to say is ‘half the battle is being there’. We may not be the most popular person in our kids’ lives every moment of the day but in time they will remember and put new meaning to how we hung in there and spent time alongside them.

Thanks for giving yourself the Time & Space to read this.

Bill Jennings

http://www.time-space.com.au

NB - Whenever I write about my kids, I always run the post past them first and get their 'OK' before I publish. Cheers, BJ.

Joe's son

My great friend of 20+ years, Tony, lost his dad Joe, on the 24th of June, 2009 at about 4.45am in the morning.

Tony and I are about the same age, in our forties and we met in 1989. The first thing I ever said to Tony was "Do you like a beer mate?" We were mates from that moment on.

Tony is from Sydney, I'm from Melbourne and how and where we met is a whole other story... suffice to say, we were part of a different year back then in 1989. Young people with ideals who were starting in a volunteers' program that saw me leaving my home to do my year in Sydney and Tony did the opposite - Sydney to Melbourne. We now live back in our own home towns. Over 21 years we have kept up contact and a great friendship has ensued. We often just talk about sport... lately we have been dissecting Australia's flagging fortunes in the FIFA World Cup.

I met Joe, Tony's dad, a couple of times. How would I describe him? Joe was old school. Practical. He was an 'unrevised' man... no modern 'sensitive, new-age' elements to Joe. An Aussie bloke who had endured his fair share of adversity in life and 'sucked it up' as they say in sporting circles. There was never any 'wordy' expression of sentiment from Joe. The last time I visited his place, travelling through with Tony... he gave Tony some chops.

"There you go, you've got your mate up from Melbourne... I got you some chops." Simple expressions, practical gifts.

On Joe's funeral booklet... a black & white photo from 1947 shows Joe and Barbara (who would become his wife) on one of their first dates walking through George Street in Sydney. Joe and Barbara are holding hands - she is beaming, her eyes are smiling. Joe can't hide half a smile curling up the right side of his mouth. He is looking sharp in his pinstripe suit. Tall, broad shoulders. She looks so pretty. A young couple in bliss.

Another photo shows Joe the footballer - Rugby League is the football code of the workers in New South Wales and Joe played over 100 games for the North Sydney Bears (who disappeared as a senior club in the 1990's). Joe is being tackled by a St George player. He has two hands on the ball and is about to pass it... one finger is sticking out from the ball. It was probably dislocated. As a forward, Joe took all the big hits - that was part of his role on the team. He endured a lot of injuries. Legend has it that in one game on the Sydney Cricket Ground, Joe was so badly cut that he was taken to St Vincent's hospital. These were in the days when a side could not replace players so the Bears were down to 12 men. Once they had stitched him up... Joe got in a taxi back to the ground and went out and played the last 15 minutes!

Those injuries are a powerful metaphor for the ones that didn't show as scars or dislocations in Joe's lot in life. They were deep within and restricted Joe's capacity to play the 'game of life' in a fully fit fashion.

Injury number 1 - Joe lost his son in motorcycle accident.

Injury number 2 - He lost Barbara too early - a long battle with cancer that eventually claimed her. Appreciate that Tony, the youngest of Joe's kids, lost his older brother and then his mum at sixteen. That is a lot for a young boy to endure.

Joe, having access to only the narrow band of masculinity available to men of that age, became withdrawn. He was angry and distant. From what I have gauged from Tony's stories, Joe sounded heart-broken and he pushed love away. Where Joe got back on the park as a footballer, he took a much longer time to find his way back as a father. Remember Tony was only a boy when all of that sadness happened. He needed his dad but sometimes traumas happen to people that stop them doing their key roles.

Lets cut through to early last year. Tony has been consciously visiting his dad regularly now. Joe had moved a couple of hours north of Sydney. Tony decided that despite the emotional absence of Joe, he would reach out with a forgiving heart to his dad and try to reconnect. He just gave back practical kindness to his dad. It was over about ten years that the son had faithfully been visiting and caring for his ageing father.

As we chatted over the years, I heard via Tony about Joe and built up a picture of how ever so gradually the father started to drop his guard. It was his son who was reaching out. As he got older, Joe needed Tony... for all the practical stuff - shopping errands, odd jobs around the house and visits to the doctor.

So, on one of those visits to the doctor, early last year, Joe found out that he had cancer. It was serious and Tony, being a 'career bachelor' was in the position to move up and live with his dad through his final months. Tony gave up work and nursed Joe in his own home. In the final days as he weakened, Joe had to go into palliative care at the local hospital. He was not happy about this.

I laughed as Tony explained that he tried putting a reassuring hand on his dad's head, he stroked his hair, as the paramedics moved him on the trolley into the hospital...

"I'm not a bloody cat!" - Joe was fighting to the end and growling at his son but he he was too weak to fully push away now. I do know that in those final days in the hospital, in those final months living full-time with his dad, in that ten year period of reconnecting... Tony built to a point that some lucid conversations were shared. Joe's guard was down and he had got back on the field of life because of his son's willingness to reach him.

So it is nearly a year since I saw my great mate get up and tell Joe's story in a moving eulogy. I am proud to be Tony's mate... he has endured tough stuff in his own life but he has never built a complete fence around his own heart.

I got a voice message from him yesterday. He has worked out how Australia can beat Serbia this Thursday morning in the final match of the group stage of the World Cup. He had done the statistical analysis. We are hanging on to a slim hope of qualifying for the final group of 16. One stat' is if Germany and Ghana draw, Australia only need to beat Serbia by eight goals! But the most important statistic is this one... at the 15 minute mark of the Australia-Serbia game which I will be watching in West Preston (Melbourne) and Tony will be watching in Marickville (Sydney), it will be exactly one year since Joe died.

We may not get the movie script which would see Australia scoring a goal just at that point but I will be thinking of my good friend at that time... about Joe and holding a quiet thought of respect out to a son who forgave his dad and helped him re-join the game of life.

Thanks for taking the Time & Space to read this.

Bill Jennings

http://www.time-space.com.au

Community Rituals

There is the small matter of a football tournament presently taking place in South Africa - had you heard?

It is Sunday night in Melbourne and as I write Australia is undefeated in this year's World Cup (well, we haven't played yet!). If you are into soccer, by the time you read this, you will know the result of the long awaited opening game with Germany. Looking at my computer clock right now, the game starts in 4 hours and 25 minutes. It is a special time for some families in our local community - here underneath (what we call) the West Preston skies!

Four years ago during the last World Cup, a West Preston tradition was born. Our group of friends had intended to rotate the venue for a our shared viewing of the World Cup. But Australia won the first game against Japan (3-1) kicking three goals in the last ten minutes of the game - our superstitions kicked in and so it was sort of subconsciously decided that every other game would be watched at Nick and Clare's place. We brought the same food to share, we sat in the same seats so as not to upset Australia's progress through the tournament. Four years on and a collection of mums, dads and kids will gather again at Nick and Clare's and watch and hold our collective breath. Food will be shared, the match will be dissected and new memories will be built.

My son was not quite ten years old last time. He was then and is now, mad about the game. Last time the event was so large in his reality that he provided some wonderful memories for all who gathered at Nick and Clare's. Australia was down needing a draw in the final game of its three first round matches and Croatia had pushed ahead. It was too much for my son when Croatia took the lead that would give them, and not us, a place amongst the final 16 teams. He was distraught. Tears could not be hidden. Seeing my son Jack, a couple of the mums present including Clare, started crying - a young boy's World Cup dream was vanishing. The tension was too great. A game shouldn't matter this much but try telling that to my son.

Then, a miracle that created more tears... Harry Kewell magically weaved in and around a ball and slotted an equaliser into the goal deep into the second half.

Jubilation! A lounge room under the West Preston skies was full of people who were jumping and screaming in sheer delight. My son burst into tears again... tears of joy that flowed even more when the final whistle blew. Australia was through to the next round.

Now you can get far more expertly reported accounts of one game between Australia and Croatia in the 2006 World Cup but regard the angle of vision we had as our community enjoyed the afterglow of the win we had shared. The group were chatting and enjoying the win but also remarking how helpless they felt as a young boy willed his national team to keep their campaign alive.

I still clearly recall seeing, when it was time to go, Jack going up to Clare to do the right thing, manners-wise.

"Thanks for having us Clare" said Jack... and instead of just leaving it as a polite 'thank you' - his arms wrapped around Clare and she received an enormous hug.

Alot of us saw the moment. Clare reciprocated the hug and said "You are a wonderful boy you know Jack! You have made this night very special."

And here's my point. There is something lovely that in a few hours, we will be doing this all again. It has become a ritual for our community. I'll go over to Nick and Clare's tonight with Jack who is now my teenage son, nearly fourteen. He's a little more aware of how hard it might be to win... more wise in the ways and fortunes of the world. He is growing up and as we observe our community World Cup ritual, a point in time is marked again.

I think community rituals are so important for our kids. They give them a memory. The one Jack has will grow in its richness in time. In time Jack's appreciation will grow that he belongs to a family that loves him but he will also hold a memory of his village, the people who enjoyed his uniqueness... his special character that added to the life of his community.

Whenever I mention my kids in this blog, I always sit them down and show them the gist of the post - I seek their permission to publish. As I read this to Jack, a smile grew over his face... "Yep, that's fine... you can put that up" he says. I'm smiling too.

Off to bed now. Three hours and fifty-five minutes till kick off! I can't wait.

Thanks for taking the Time and Space to read this.

Bill Jennings

http://www.time-space.com.au

Presence

Joe's dad stood at the door to the big school hall every Friday night.

This was when I was a teacher and coordinated kids who went off voluntarily to Friday night community service programs. School was officially over for the week, so it was always something of a privilege to be around young people who wanted to go and do something for someone else. The most popular activity was a tutoring program for kids who were new to the country... asylum seekers and refugees. At the time, you could walk up to this church hall in East Melbourne and see 100+ pairs of kids engaged in what I called, 'mutual learning'. Typically, a private school student was paired with a young person of similar age. Perhaps that kid had just arrived as an asylum seeker from war ravaged, East Timor.

You'd see laughter, enthusiasm - a lot of magic happening in the big room. Most of the kids made their own way home but Joe's dad was there every week.

"You're a good dad to be here and pick up your son every week" I said one night, "I notice you always get here fifteen minutes before tutoring finishes."

Joe's dad replied with a line I have never forgotten... "I believe in presence".

Every Friday night, Joe's dad built into his schedule that he would arrive in time to see his son tutoring a peer who, by their accident of birth, had started their life in the 'majority world' where education is not a given. He saw his son acting generously. He witnessed his son learning perspective, learning 'not taking things for granted' and being inspired by the enthusiasm of the people he met and taught.

Joe's dad was there at the door quietly witnessing his son's choice to make a contribution.

Joe's dad was present.

Thanks for taking the 'Time & Space' to read this.

Bill Jennings

http://www.time-space.com.au