New Focus

The end of the semester is arriving at an unbelievable pace and as due dates loom I find myself spending more and more of my waking hours thinking about my final paper. Not in a dreading “I don’t want to write this paper” sort of way, but in a “my mind won’t let this idea slip far from my consciousness sort of way”.  This is how I know I’ve chosen the right topic to write about.

The intention for the assignment is that this paper develops from a first person narrative and my recent parent orientation presentation leapt to my mind. During my orientation session for the parents of my new kindergarteners I belabored the nutrition portion of my presentation in hopes that I would positively influence my students eating habits throughout the year. After the session parent and child interview with each individual family and it soon became clear that my nutritious lunch spiel had missed the mark. After having tense, worried, and obstinate conversations with many of the parents about food I began to think that my attempt making healthy eating a focus at school might have done more harm than good.

After typing out the narrative I thought the focus for my paper was clear, why was food shopping, choice, and preparation, and feeding children such a struggle for many young families and how the social determinants of food security play into it. I was curious to look into how much influence children had over their food and the factors that influenced them. But as I started researching and thinking more about myself and my own health practices I began to wonder if what I was pulling out of the narrative was really the most telling force in my interaction with the parents.

After continued feedback about my paper and much soul searching about my own beliefs, conceptions, and insecurities related to eating and nutrition I decided to take a leap of faith and take on a topic far more personal, which while hard to admit gave me a far amount of trepidation.

I’ve instead decided to write instead of how my own fears, convictions, and practices in regards to eating and food create barriers between myself and those I speak with. When I look back at my presentation I find myself more focused on how the parents perceived what I said, how I said it, and what was left unsaid. I find myself wondering now who was judging who more. Was I overly judgmental when I assumed that they needed to be told how to feed their children, that they could afford the sort of foods I was suggesting, or that they must not know how to eat themselves due to their own physical appearance? Or did my words serve to make it easier for them to judge me as a young know it all teacher without picky eaters to contend with, time, money, and energy with which to allow nutrition to be a focus in my life, and an appearance that would suggest I equate nutrition with a certain body image.

It’s hard to admit to myself how much my concern over food can be a negative factor in my life and how the idealism I strive for could be the greatest barrier between being someone who could affect positive change in my students, which was the entire intention of the nutrition talk in the first place.

I want to know how best to break down barriers between others and myself. What are my intentions when I engage others in conversations of health and how can I remain authentic, yet helpful and nonjudgmental. How can I work to mitigate barriers between myself and others when it may be a barrier created by age, appearance, or vitality?

For the most part, I seem to have found many, many more questions than answers, but learning is a journey and this is not something I will be able to reconcile to myself in 3 months of thought and 15 pages of text. I know it will be an ongoing dialogue with myself and will shape my practice in the classroom. But that is the most exciting part of this discourse, because no matter what conclusion I come to, I will have to give a parent orientation presentation next September and while I don’t know now what I will say, I know it won’t be a regurgitation of this year’s. And that is what I truly believe is at the heart of meaningful pedagogy, constant re-evaluation of current practices, beliefs, and biases, and the willingness and acceptance of the need for change and growth.