Translator: Carol Wang Reviewer: Peter van de Ven
It's true.
(Gong strikes)
Wait for it.
I was 17, and up to this point in my life,
it was the biggest mistake I had ever made.
I've been working with kids since I was a kid,
and I've learned so much.
We've all had school experiences - some good, some not so good -
some of us have even been sent to the principal's office.
TED?
(Laughter)
I come to you today as a messenger from the kids.
They crave connections.
Just watch them in the mall - if you can stand it - for five minutes.
Before we slam their devices or social media,
let's think about what danah boyd meant in It's Complicated when she wrote,
"Most teens today aren't addicted to social media,
they're addicted to each other."
I think about my daughter at home, in her bedroom, doing her homework:
Her laptop's open - she's watching The Mindy Project or The Office.
Her science textbooks open - she's completing an experiment.
She's tethered with one earbud to her iPhone,
where she's FaceTiming with her best friend Zoey.
Yes, there're two Zoeys in my home.
They're FaceTiming with each other for hours on end,
and they don't even talk -
they just be together, virtually, in their own bedrooms, connected.
Kids are more connected today than they've ever been.
What I want to talk to you today about
is how I stay connected to kids
because I believe that is the most important thing
in schools and in my home.
I want to share with you three principles
that I use to stay connected to kids.
They are: Be playful. Be present. And be a coach.
Ever more it seems that we've got rules in place, of play, for children -
rules that govern the way they are allowed to play -
and these rules often get in the way of learning.
My son loves to go to the town dances in the town that we live in.
He started going in grade five.
My wife and I were flabbergasted
when he came down with slicked hair and smelled like me.
(Laughter)
He asked for a ride in grade five, so I drove him.
And being a good parent,
I walked in to make sure the environment was conducive to safe play.
When I was met by a man in a golf shirt
standing beside the white board with the rules of engagement,
I had a little laugh.
The cost of the dance across the top of the whiteboard
with the three rules of engagement for the night:
No. 1, no running.
No. 2, no stealing hats.
No. 3, no kissing.
(Laughter)
Some rules seemed very arbitrary to my son, like, no kissing -
it's still not in his wheel house, and he's going into grade seven.
The days of 35-page handbooks with bold and capitalized letters
illustrating the do-nots and the or-elses for all the children in my school
are over.
The one-hour assemblies on the first day of school
where Principal Cowper reads his litany of rules, consequences,
so all the children in audience know how to behave in school -
they're gone for me too.
In place, we keep it pretty simple, and we play.
And when we play, we learn.
I don't believe
that safety, kindness and order in schools
need to come by threats, intimidation and fear.
I am not a Diary of a Wimpy Kid character.
I believe that play is a safe space for kids,
a place where they can learn from consequences,
play together, and have fun.
To employ this idea of being more playful with kids,
I am going to ask you as adults,
whether you are parents or teachers, principals,
relatives, grandparents -
actually, grandparents, forget that, you're really good at this stuff -
as adults, look for those times
when kids call upon you to create playful situation for them
or get involved in playful situations with and around them,
and just go for it.
Recess at school,
traditionally a time when the bell rings and all kids head outside,
is a time now when students choose where they want to go.
Our gym is open for active play.
The music room is open for individual lessons,
or little mini groups have started forming.
The library's open for clubs and reading and technology and board games.
Instead of kids going where they are supposed to go at school,
we let them go where they want to go.
You can find me in the gym, at recess, shooting baskets with kids
and usually Cranking Queen on my iPhone and playing the air guitar
to an entourage of teenagers on the stage pointing and laughing.
Many of them have started joining in with me though.
We keep it simple at my school.
These are the rules of engagement.
The forest, traditionally a place that was out of bounds
because it was full of dangers and hazards,
was a place that the kids wanted to learn and play in.
When I got to this school,
the kids were paying close attention to my leadership style.
They knew that there was some wiggle room,
and shortly after I arrived, they started sending in their minions:
"Mr. Cowper, can we go in the forest? The last principal said no."
(Laughter)
They knew that their voice carried more weight
than even the collective voice of all the teachers in the school.
I don't know if you're picking up what Isabella's laying down here or not -
she's at the front -
but this fort and this forest is now her realm.
And if I shut it down, I'm going to have to answer to her and her posse.
(Laughter)
Max is a seven-year-old entomologist from my school -
he's missing his two front teeth.
He was quite concerned this year when we opened the forest.
And he wanted help from me.
He just finished his 22-room spring tour,
where he visited every class in the school
and taught all of his schoolmates
about the dangers of the ticks in the forest
and the sickness they carry inside of them.
(Laughter)
He hung posters all over the school.
We took learning from play that used to be off-limits.
Let's stay connected to our kids by being more playful.
I have a 15-year-old daughter, Zoey.
I've spent the last two years of my life wondering:
where did everything go wrong?
She won't talk to me anymore.
I've been taking everything personally.
I built up the courage one day, a couple months ago, to ask her,
"Zoey, why won't you talk to me anymore?"
She looked at me blankly and said, "Dad, you never listen!"
Ouch!
It turns out listening to Zoey is far more about being present with her
than the actual act of noise travelling through my ear canals.
She misses the bus, and I have to driver her -
I get to drive her -
to school in the morning,
30 minutes, two ways: pure silence.
And our relationship has improved big time.
I think, lately, she's been missing the bus on purpose.
What have I learned?
I've learned that listening to kids is about being present and in the moment.
Kids tell us things at school - believe me, parents,
your secrets from home are not safe with your children.
My mom says I have bugs in my hair, but I'm not supposed to tell anybody.
(Laughter)
I peed the bed last night and I have a rash on my bum, Mr. Cowper.
(Laughter)
Okay.
When kids come to me,
I make sure that they not only feel that they are heard,
but they know that they are heard.
I put away my distractions, and I just be with them.
I've been working with three-year-olds to 14-year-olds for 23 years now.
I've learned some things.
My best friend - see, I'm a kid at heart, I still got best friends -
my best friend, Richard,
says, "You're only as smart as the books you've read
and the people you know, James."
And I always add, "And the kids you've listened to."
Kids, you know, interrupt me all day on the phone, in meetings.
I never know when I'm going to have to hear something
that they really have to tell me.
Six-year-olds have told me about pet bunnies and cigarette burns.
13-year-olds have shared stories of attempted suicides, self-harm,
trips to the mall with girlfriends.
Kindergarten kids have asked me
why their dads yell at them so much every morning,
and 12-year-olds have told me that they're gay.
I respond to these things with what I call interested neutrality.
Gavin, my son, calls it me being a Vulcan.
(Laughter)
"You mean it's not too late for me, Mr. Cowper?"
a grade-five-girl asked me
after being removed from her class, sent to my office -
she had recently been removed from her home as well.
"Is it too late for my mom?
I never wanted to be a little girl anyways, Mr. Cowper.
I always wanted to be a bird so I could just fly away."
Kids are poets.
Elise tells me I'm not the least bit condescending,
"a trait that many people in positions of authority use, Mr. Cowper."
She continued,
"I don't think there's anybody in this school that's afraid of you,
and I think that's a good thing."
Let's stay connected to our kids by always being present.
(Sighs)
(Laughter)
The superintendent visits the school three times a year.
(Laughter)
He was there on this day.
(Laughter)
I, too, know what it's like to stare at an adult and not have all the answers.
(Giggles)
Helping kids when they've made mistakes is pretty much my job description.
It takes guts to get in trouble.
It's risky.
It takes even more to get out of trouble.
Tobogganing Club. Archery club in the gym.
Tree forts. No more student handbooks.
I'm a bit of a disrupter.
I know what it's like to feel like you're in trouble.
Kids know when they come to me,
puzzled by the question "Am I in trouble?"
that I'm going to honor their experience,
let's just call it.
Freddie calls it me helping kids through their trouble.
They know that when they come,
I'm going to help get them out of the trouble
that they got themselves into.
My approach when working with kids
that are perplexed by this question "Am I in trouble?"
is a blend of cognitive behavioral therapy -
which I'm completely unqualified to deliver -
restorative practices, some co-active coaching,
and good old-fashioned parenting.
Yes, you're welcome, mom and dad -
the kind that comes with the time-honored experiences of natural consequences.
When you play in the puddles, you get wet, Susie.
And when you dig in the dirt, Mason, you get muddy.
It's okay. Let's go back to class and learn.
For me, it's about trust in relationships with the kids I serve.
When they come to me and ask, "Am I in trouble?"
what I hear is "Can I trust you not to shame me?”
I use co-active coaching skills to help kids own their mistakes,
fix their mistakes and move on from their mistakes.
Every individual has difficulty in one of those three spots.
Lessons on accountability are tough for kids,
sometimes even tougher for their parents when I have to call them.
Styrofoam packing peanuts,
well, they become a snowstorm in the classroom
on a day when the superintendent visits.
Kids make mistakes. Teachers make mistakes.
Our credibility with kids and with each other
isn't based on our age or our authority;
it's based on our patience, our understanding
and our connections to them.
Let's stay connected to our kids by being a little more coach
and a little less control freak.
3D printers,
online handheld devices and robots are awesome in schools.
I've seen it.
My innovation is about always making sure that I'm connected to the kids.
So I'm challenging you today to think of my three principals.
See what I did there?
(Laughter)
That joke for Kevin Tran - he's a grade eight student -
gave me feedback and he told me to put it in, so I put it in.
(Laughter)
Be playful.
I'm not asking you to be Batdad,
just play a little air guitar, let your guard down.
As my wife tells me, lighten up a little bit.
Be present.
Put away your distractions.
Listen to the silence.
Stop giving advice and respond with "Talk more about that."
And be a coach.
Don't judge. Don't punish. And don't shame.
Instead of asking kids why they've made the mistakes they've made,
work them through how they can improve upon them for the future.
I have given up my polkadot underwear,
but I still wear my polkadots as a reminder to myself
that I know what it's like to feel and be a kid, to make big mistakes
and then step back on center stage.
Thank you so much, everybody.
(Applause)