Trading Powerpoint for Play-doh

Reblogged from The Wabash Center's Blog

12 Surprises When Lecturing Less

(and Teaching more!) 

Karyn L. Wiseman is the Associate Professor of Homiletics at Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia.

One of my goals is to be as creative as I can be – in my preaching and teaching. I have not always thought that I was creative, but I have come to appreciate my creativity more in the last few years. However, it’s often very hard to convince others of their creativity. Most people, in my experience, when asked if they are creative, quickly answer, “No.” A few years ago I ran across Julia Cameron’s book, The Artist's Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity. Through it I was reminded that we are ALL created by the Divine Creator to be creative.

Many of my preaching students answer that creativity question with a big NO, as well. But preaching requires creativity – in crafting a sermon, finding images and metaphors, and presenting the sermon in an engaging and creative manner. Getting students to acknowledge that reality, come to own it, and embrace their creativity has meant trying something new for me as a professor.

My preaching classes every semester have a “Play-doh Day” when we look at a number of preaching texts and then spend time playing with them to find images and metaphors for preaching. We start by having a conversation for about 20 minutes of a 2 hour class session about creativity and I use a few sections from Cameron’s book as conversation starters. And then I break out the crayons, colored paper, play-doh, and other crafting supplies and the students begin to work on expressing their creativity around those ideas.

They pick an idea from the text and find a concrete image or metaphor to use in the exercise. Then they have time to create something with Play-doh or crayons that expresses that. I try to create a relaxed environment for this activity by playing music and letting students work casually on their creative expressions. Many students have created some very good art work – stick figures are ok and affirmed – and have found ideas that others in the room never would have thought of. But not everyone finds their groove.

A big piece of the learning is moving around the room as students describe and show their artwork. Teaching with crayons and Play-doh is an amazing way to teach without lecturing but some will still balk at owning their creativity. But it’s a start.

     

Growing Older But Not Up

 In the song, "Growing Older, But Not Up," Jimmy Buffet sings about the idea of growing older but still having a sense of fun and play by not fully growing up. He is experiencing the realities of growing older - pain, creaking joints, brittle bones, etc. - but he is determined to live to the fullest.  He proudly proclaims, "I'd rather die while I'm living than live while I'm dead."

I am a 50 year old woman who likes to watch action movies, go to the park, golf or putt-putt, and spend time on the beach. I play video games with my son and go out for fun on date night. I laugh at life and at myself ... often.

But I also spend a lot of time paying bills, cleaning house, working for my professional advancement, grading papers, writing my next book, and taking care of "grown-up" things. They take up too much time, but I actually took some advice growing up to find something I love to do and figure out a way to get paid for it. I do love my job.

I have joints that creak and more than one story of a bone breaking without much drama involved. I feel my age some days more than others. There are times I crackle and pop more than a breakfast cereal. It is all part of growing older.

But being a "grown-up" can be rough at times. There are days I just want to sleep until noon and pull the covers up to make the world go away. There are days when I want to slap on the skis and go up the chairlift to take on a black diamond run again. There are days that I want someone else to be the grown up so that I can go play.

And there are days when I wish I could go back and be a 20 year old taking on the world all over again with new possibilities. (And there are definitely a few things my older self would tell my younger self NOT to do the second time around).

However, when I stop and look at my family I am amazed. I sit and watch my 14 year old son - who is annoying, amazing, compassionate, grumpy, messy, intelligent, creative, loving, and talented - and I cannot imagine my life without him. My immediate and extended family makes me a better person and adds joy to my life daily. I can't imagine not having them in my life.

I think back on the amazing years of classroom experience I had in Texas teaching History, Government, and Geography to sophomores and seniors and I would not pass that up. What fabulous memories I have of those days creating a game called Wheel of Feudalism for my students and playing Trivia with Historic facts and figures. How would I teach seminary students today the way I do without those early experiments with engaging learning?

I reminisce about helping my sister raise her two daughters while she was going back to school. I would not trade that time with Jordyn and Jonna for anything in the world. They are brave, bold and independent young women. And I can see glimpses of me in both of them and that makes me proud. How would I trade that in for being young again?

I remember the many lives I touched and was touched by in ministry as a United Methodist pastor in Kansas and New Jersey and I would not change a thing. I remember the 11pm Bible Studies at Kansas State and the Campus Ministry and Youth trips to Tennessee and Chicago.  I remember the hospital visits, a wedding when the drapes caught on fire, and the many baptisms I was privileged to be part of. I went to countless lock-ins and had more bad pizza than I care to remember. (A big reason I rarely eat it now.)

So I am growing older. And I am growing up. I don't want to miss out on the amazing things that have happened and that are yet to happen. I want to live fully into my old age. I want to remember all of these great experiences and have even more with my family, in the classroom, and with my writing/scholarship.

But I'm still gonna play. I'm going to take off on a Wednesday afternoon and go see an action movie. I'm going to go play putt-putt with the family, I am going to go to the beach and be lazy or maybe float for hours on the waves. I am going to go to Beer-B-Q events with my Lutheran friends even though I do not drink.

I am going to throw the frisbee and tickle my almost grown son. I am going to run off to see a musical in the city when I can. I am going to play video games with my kid and go on walks through the woods. And I am going to sleep-in on occasion and pull the covers up to make the world go away.

But only for a little while. Because my life is too amazing and too rich to miss anything - past, present or future.

I'm growing older, but not up to the point I forget to have fun.

So I share a favorite prayer -- "In Christ's name we play."

Go have fun. Enjoy the day.

Be a kid again - just don't wish your life away.

Go live it.

On Being 50

Yesterday was my birthday. I am a half a century young. I am 50 years of age and am actually really excited about it. Several celebrations have already occurred (with my son before he went off on a 10 day mission trip with our church, with my Wabash friends in Indiana, and last night with friends). Amazingly some have made it known that turning 50 should make me sad. They have flat out stated that 50 is old. Of course most of them were much younger than I am. And I do not believe it. 50 is just a number and it doesn’t make me sad in the least. I am proud to be 50.

So today I pause to look back at 50 years of life.  And it has been a great life. I was blessed with an astonishingly great family of origin. My parents taught me to stand up and speak for myself. They taught me to be open and affirming of persons not like myself. They taught me my faith and how to live it boldly. They provided me with a wonderfully loving home and two sisters who are my dear friends. Not many people can say that. 

I was also blessed to receive a fantastic education. I taught with some amazing colleagues for 9 years in secondary education in Texas. I am so grateful for the education and the M.Div. I later received from Saint Paul School of Theology and for the churches I served as a United Methodist pastor in Kansas and New Jersey. Blessings continued to flow as I received a Masters of Philosophy and a Doctor of Philosophy degree from Drew University. I have received amazing support and collegial encouragement from colleagues at both Hood Theological Seminary in NC and Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia. In my work I have found friends for life who are so important to me.

I am blessed with an amazing family of choice. They lift me up when I am down and call me into accountability when I screw up. They love me no matter what and I love them as well. They are friends, family, and loved ones who make my life worth living. I cannot imagine my life without them.

I am blessed with a vocation that I love. I have been teaching in one form or another for most of my adult life and it is in my blood. I teach and in those moments I am the best of who I can be. I teach and I help propel the church into the 21^st century in exciting and engaging ways. I teaching and it makes me happier than almost any time else in my life. I am lucky to have this joy in my life.

But most of all I am blessed by a faith that keeps me sane, makes my life complete, and connects me to the Creator in ways that lift me off the ground. I am blessed with a church community that inspires and challenges me. I am blessed by a life that brings me hope, love and joy! Thank you to all of you who play a role in it.

I am 50 – and I am proud and blessed.

Cleaning House Makes Me Happy!?

I am admitting something on this blog.  It is something that I often don’t admit publicly but most people who know me will not be surprised by the news.   I inherited it from my parents and I have even passed it on to my son in some small ways (though maybe not as much as I wish I had).  It is hard to hide and even harder to explain sometimes but I will tell you anyway.  I have OCD (or CDO with the letters in alphabetical order as they should be).   OCD is Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.  It is defined in my life as needing everything to be in order, wanting every place in my life at home and at work über organized, and being personally and systematically ordered in the things I do.  My sock drawer is organized by color, I have files for everything and know where they are, and my digital calendar is color coded for different types of events for each person in the family.  Sometimes it drives my family crazy.  And truth be told – sometimes it makes me a bit frazzled as it affects others.  But it is my life.

It also made me annoyed at times when I was younger and living with my OCD parents.  I would take my tea glass into the living room to watch TV or something.  Later I might go into the other room for a minute and when I returned my glass was in the dishwasher.  My Dad would threaten to leave us if we were not in the car when he was ready to go – but I do not remember if he ever really left us.  It was not always a lot of fun but they taught me to keep things in order, that on time meant being there five minutes early, and to make sure I got things done on time.  I am grateful in a way since there are a lot of things about my OCD that are very helpful in my life.  And my OCD is not debilitating – like it is for so many who deal with the condition on a daily basis.  I pray for those afflicted in ways that keep them from accomplishing all they could in their lives and for those who have overcome OCD to live full and productive lives.

But for me it is still a persistent way of life.  I get up and do thing in the same way day in and day out.  My house has to be clean and organized or it makes me cringe – and living with others who do not have OCD means I do cringe on occasion.  In academia it is a bit odd to have an organized office, but my desk has nothing out on it unless I am currently using it.  Some of my colleagues are well known for piles of books and papers in their offices to the point that no one can even visit and find a pace to sit.   I know it’s a bit cliché, but some of my professor friends make it real on a daily basis – and I love them for it (even if we cannot have a meeting in their office).

But the need for order sometimes causes conflict.  My 12 year old son and I have very different ideas about what a clean room looks like.  He thinks as long as his piles are not falling over it’s ok.  He thinks as long as the clothes are near the hamper it’s alright.  He thinks a messy desk is the sign of an imaginative mind.  He thinks the fact that all of this drives me crazy is reason enough to keep it the same.  I guess that is more a part of being 12 than it is a reaction to my OCD but it is more than likely a bit of both.

The debate in my house is about whether my needs should supersede his.  The debate is one that comes up often.  Part of me wants to teach my son the same things my parents taught me – about order and being responsible.  But part of me wants him to be his own person and create his own style.  Right now – unfortunately the OCD side of me wins more than the other side. 

What does it mean to pass something on to the next generation?   I hope it means passing on the good things.  So what I want to pass on to my son is not just flashes of my OCD.  I want to pass on compassion, love of others, faithful living, joy of life, good humor, enjoyment of reading, love of learning, care for the earth, and kindness to all.  If my son gets this from me I will be one proud and happy Mom.  I will also be happy if his room is clean but I’ll take what I can get.  

New Shoes and No Bullying

School starts next week in Philadelphia and my family has made the usually trek to buy school supplies.  We got 14 (yes, 14) composition books, glue sticks, crayons, markers, protractor, pencil box, book covers, folders, and pens/pencils.  We send our son to a school that requires school uniforms so we also bought the required shirts, shorts and gym uniforms.  And we had to buy the required shoes.  Yes – the required shoes.  They are black dress shoes that he will wear with either his short or long pant uniforms.  They are chunky and are not cheap.  All summer my son has worn Crocs or tennis shoes – or nothing at all.  Now he is going to be wearing these heavy dress shoes for school.  (He also has to wear a tie when he wears long pants but that is potentially a whole different post).  The chunky shoes mean something.

Putting on the big boy shoes means school is upon us.  Buying school supplies means the summer is about over.  We are entering into Labor Day Weekend and that means back to school for my son and back to work for me.  So I am mourning a bit, but I am also ready.  This has been a great summer but it is time to get back into a regular routine.  School does that for families.  It puts them back into a routine of waking, working, studying, and homework.  It is usually a time of anxiety for younger kids starting to Kindergarten for the first time, for Middle Schoolers entering into a new school, or High Schoolers heading into a major change of their lives.  It also happens for college students and professors, which is what I am.  So back to school leads many to feel queasy, uneasy, anxious, etc.  It is also a time for new possibilities, connecting to old friends, learning new things, and amazing opportunities.  It is a time to make new friends and a time for new adventures to stretch us.

But it is also a time when some students dread the inevitable painful experiences of being treated as outsiders.  Bullying and teasing kids for being different happens all the time.  It is an unfortunate part of school.  I experienced it growing up.  Many have in their lives.  Some say it is simply a natural part of school.  I disagree completely.  It is something that should not only be discouraged, but should be removed from our school environments completely.

Recently a post started circulating around Facebook.  It said …

See that girl right there?  The one you just called fat?
She's been starving herself, and she's lost over 30 pounds.
The one you just called stupid?  She has a learning disability, she studies 6 hours per night.
The one you just called ugly?  She spends over 3 hours putting makeup on.
The one you just called baby? You would be crying too if your mother was dead.
The one you just tripped?  I think she's abused enough at home.
There's a lot more to a person than you think.  Stop bullying those who are different.

You cannot tell enough by just looking at someone who they are inside, but folks try all the time.  They look at someone and make assumptions about who they are, what their lives are like, how they express their personhood, and what they believe.  And then they use those assumptions to tease, belittle, bully, and abuse those “other” than themselves.  It is time we started a new school tradition – one where we accept each other.  I realize I may be idealistic and unrealistic but I believe we can achieve it.  Talk to your kids about bullying – so they will not participate in it, so they know what to do if it happens in their presence to others, and so they will know who to talk to if they are victims.  But bullying happens outside of school, too.  So talk to them about cyber-bullying and how they can avoid it, report it, and help their friends who might be cyber-bullied.  

One person at a time can make a difference.  You can make a difference … and so can you kids.  Educate them to be kind, to be accepting of others, to not use derogatory words or phrases, and to report bullying to teachers and administrators.  You can make a difference. 

Civility is Hard But Necessary!

I am part of several Facebook discussion groups, follow a number of blogs, and read a lot of political and religious websites on a daily basis.  And one thing I have gotten extremely tired of lately is the lack of civility.  Folks on several of the Facebook discussion groups I am part of ask questions and then blast anyone who differs from their opinion.  The discussion on several topics has gotten downright ugly at times.  Now, a disclaimer – I have participated in these discussions but have tried to stay civil.  I believe I have played nice but others might see my participation differently.  I am, after all, a very opinionated person who is not shy about sharing her beliefs, political stances, etc.  But I have tried.  And one glance on political websites or at cable news shows and your “lack of civility meter” will be on full overload.

It is really nothing new.  Even though folks have been talking about the lack of civility a lot lately – (especially before and since the 2008 election) it is nothing new.  In the 1870s political cartoonists used their voice – sometimes in very uncivil manners – to bring down Boss Tweed in New York.  In the 1960 election, the Catholicism of John F. Kennedy was discussed by some in clearly uncivil ways.  Attacking political opponents is a long standing tradition around the world.  But it does seem that civility has taken a decidedly negative turn of late.  Some of it seems politically based, some seems racially based to me (in presidential politics right now), but mostly it is simply differences in ideology and how they view the role of government.

I remember growing up in Texas being told – never discuss religion or politics around the table.  The reason was that arguments would likely erupt.  But my family always encouraged these types of discussions.  And today, the result is politically savvy children and grandchildren … folks who vote, work for their candidates, and make their voices known.  And children and grandchildren who are greatly involved in their churches and know what they believe.  We do not always agree on any of these things, but we try to be respectful of each other.  Even when my son was younger and found out his grandparents were Republicans we took a moment and he called to talk to them about it.  He respectfully asked if they knew the candidate they were backing was against something important to his family.  They talked about how they did not agree with everything their candidate said but overall agreed more with them than the others in the field.  They applauded his inquiry and interest.  And he learned to ask intelligent questions of others about their beliefs and to discuss it in a civil way.

But that is not what I have experienced in some of my web based discussion groups.  There has been some real animosity and lack of civility.  I want to have important discussions and to do that with a variety of people.  I want to have important discussions with folks I disagree with and be respected in that discussion – while I am at the same time affirming their right to be wrong.  Whoops … I meant their right to have their own opinion.  But I seldom get that.  Is it me?  Am I not affirming of other’s opinions?  I think I am.  But I also would guess we all believe that about ourselves. 

So here is my advice to myself and to others.  STOP yelling at each other.  Stop being so entrenched in your own views that you cannot even listen to other people.  Stop  being disagreeable.  Stop being so rigid.  Stop being so mean.  Stop assuming the other person is wrong.

Listen to each other, disagree in love, discuss in a civil manner, and for goodness sake be aware that how you treat each other in these discourses is being watched by the next generation.  I am so grateful that my son learned one good thing from me – to be civil in his discussions and disagreements with others.  And I hope to echo that behavior in my own life – on the web or in person.  

Being civil is hard work – but it is also necessary!

My YaYa Seatmate

I was flying home this weekend from a Wabash Institute Pre-Tenure Seminary Faculty Consultation in Indianapolis and wanted nothing more than to take a nap for the almost 2 hour flight.  I was tired after a late night karaoke party on the patio with the other participants and staff.  When I boarded the plane I noticed a smiling elderly woman in the seat next to mine.  I told her I needed in to take my seat and then settled in for the flight.  We did the normal introductions and I took time to ask about her travel plans.  She was on her way to visit her son in Boston and to play with her grandkids.  She showed me pictures of her grandkids and bragged about her son, the doctor.  I asked where her accent was from – “I’m Greek.  I’m YaYa,” she said.  Next she asked about my family and I showed her a picture of my son, Shelby. She was suitably impressed – as I was with her pictures.  As the plane began to taxi I put my head back and closed my eyes.  Naptime!!

Then it happened … she asked me what I do for a living.  I wondered – “Do I just say I teach or tell her the full story?”  I erred and said “I teach preaching to persons training to be pastors.”  Oops. Big mistake. “What do you think about a priest who talks about money every week?  What about preaching and being boring?  Do you believe in a third world war that will start in Jerusalem?  (she was born there – she told me five or six times).”   Her questions kept on coming - one after the other - about faith, preaching, world religions, church life, etc.  I answered with simple but complete statements hoping we could settle back into rest.

As we were flying and talking, I had noticed a few times that she emphatically talked with her hands – and poked my right arm with her finger to emphasize a point.  She then began to roll up her magazine and started hitting my arm to make sure I was listening and that I got her point.  She would say, “Bravo, bravo” if I agreed with her or said something she liked.  And then she would hit or poke my arm.  That was our trip – she would ask me a question, I would answer, and she would give me her “Bravo, bravo” and whack my arm.

Several times I put my head back to rest and she would pause – read for a minute or two – then ask another question if I moved a centimeter.  I never got my nap – and I have a sore arm today from her pokes and hits.  But she was a fun seatmate.  Her zest for life at 78 years of age was infectious.  Her emphatic belief in what she was asking and saying was amazing.  Her joy of life and enthusiasm for interaction was adorable (but also painful – so I may put some Windex on it today - LOL).

I just hope that I am that excited about life, faith and learning when I am 78 years old.  So “Bravo, Bravo!” to my YaYa seatmate. 

I Needed a Timeout

I have had three careers over the course of my life.  I taught High School History and Government for 9 years, pastored churches for fourteen years as a United Methodist clergyperson, and have been a seminary professor for four years teaching Preaching and Worship, Ministry Formation and UM courses (among others).  In that time I have obviously felt called to move from one place and profession to another.  During those times of calling and change – I reflected on my call and how God wanted to use me in the world in new ways.  And those reflective times sent me back to graduate school twice – once for a Master of Divinity degree and then for Master and Doctor of Philosophy degrees.  But this week I have been blessed with a rare opportunity to reflect on my vocation as a seminary professor and my identity as a theological educator.  I was chosen to attend the Wabash Institute’s Consultation for Pre-Tenure Seminary Faculty over the next year (1 week this week, 1 long weekend in January 2012, and 1 week next summer).  This is a group of 14 pre-tenure profs and 5 leaders reflecting intentionally on teaching; on our identity in seminary education; and the role of power, gender, and rank in our lives as faculty members.

One of the first things I noticed about our schedule was that there was a lot of free time scheduled.  I was perplexed.  Shouldn’t we be working the entire time?  Shouldn’t this week wear us out?  Shouldn’t we have more homework to do?  We’re going bowling?  We're going on a canoe trip?  We’re learning to drum?  Seriously?

Then after only 1½ days of us talking together – formally and informally – I know why we have down time.  It is exhausting work.  But it is work that is so worth it.  We are asking BIG questions about our lives as educators, our goals for our students, our values as educators for our students’ learning, and how our courses reflect those goals and values.  Taking time to assess our work is important.  It is not the first time I have done this – but this guided and collaborative process this week is a gift beyond what I usually do.

Being with other seminary colleagues who are exploring who they are and who they want to be as theological educators is a powerful experience.  Getting to know them and hearing their stories and experiences is phenomenal.  But  I wonder how often folks really take the time to assess their vocation - their work?  I wonder how much intentional time people spend discerning why they do that they do in their work?  I wonder why it took a week away to ask some of the questions I am asking.  But I am so grateful for it?

I needed this time out.  I did not know how much I needed it until I got here.  So bring on the drumming lessons tonight.  I wanna see how this helps me become a better teacher – because I know it will. 

I promise to think even more intentionally about what I am doing from now on – but I will also try to remember to take a time out more often.  Amazing how great it is. 

Try it sometime …