Into the Great Wide Open: My Struggle As A Risk-taker

     Let me begin by clarifying: I am not a nature girl by any means. I don't mind being outside, but sleeping there is not my idea of optimal conditions. Bugs. Hiking. Sweat--all are unchartered territory for me. I'm much more comfortable with sand between my toes, a book in hand, sipping on a diet Coke or unsweet tea.

     Yet, somehow, many of my life events have centered on the outdoors. I got engaged while hiking. My husband popped the question at the top of the mountain. I am surprised I didn't fall down the mountain when we descended, as I was in such shock by the entire event that I kept looking down at the ring on my finger. Even a diamond ring could not make me a nature girl, though.

    So when I went to the mountains this summer because my husband is directing a sports camp and my children are attending different camp sessions there,  I planned on reading my book on the porch under the ceiling fan and watching my kids...well...be kids on the campground. The area is pretty remote. There is no WiFi for making phone calls, texting, or even for me to troll Twitter. So what did I do?

I unplugged.

I read my 400-page book.

I swatted more bugs than I wanted, defending myself from the relentless mosquitoes. I'd like to think I won that battle, but the bites on my legs say otherwise.

I also found myself on a hike with my eight year-old son on the very same trail where my husband proposed. It was the first time that I was "in charge" of the hike. All other times I had been hiking, someone else was more experienced and led the way. I definitely was nervous to direct Jack on the hike. Yet, let's be honest; for those of you who know my eight year-old son, Jack probably did more of the directing.

Regardless, I took a risk. I knew I would dislike the hike and the bugs and the sweat that came once the impending sun broke through the leaves of the trees, but I also knew I was making my son happy. In hindsight, I realized perhaps trying something "risky" will stretch me as a person. I also saw some beautiful sights in nature along the way. Perhaps this will be the summer I become a true risk-taker.

     At the start of last school year, I presented my IB students in TOK with the IB learner profile. I asked students what characteristic (inquirers, knowledgeable, thinkers, communicators, principled, open-minded, caring, risk-takers, balanced, reflective) of the IB learner profile do they most embody and least embody. We discuss to get to know one another. Last year, I admitted that I am not a risk taker by any sense of the definition. I like being comfortable with my surroundings and tend to be afraid to take risks. Yet, this weekend, not only did I hike with my son as the pilot of the operation, but I also hiked on very rugged terrain with my entire family in a separate excursion.

     At one point, we were climbing up the rocky terrain, my husband reached out his hand to help me. Yet, in my stubbornness, I wanted to prove that I didn't need his help. After all, I had hiked with my son by myself the day before; I didn't need a hand....until I found myself slipping down the mountain of rocks. I tried to brace myself as to not get dirty (remember a non-outdoors girl would never get herself dirty), but the rocks were too slippery. I grabbed hold of my husband's hand, and he pulled me up, gingerly helping me regain my balance. Yet, unlike the person I was at the start of last school year, this time, I was a risk-taker--but one who also knows it's okay to ask for help.

     How did this happen? Every time I found myself comfortable with where I was, I set out to do something different, to take a chance. I became a little more vulnerable in doing so, but I also found that my confidence grew. I watched people in my life--mainly my students--take risks with great ease. This year I thought about what was holding me back--was it that I was worried about what others would think? Yes. Was it that I was afraid? Yes. Do I still worry? Absolutely. Am I still afraid? At times. Yet, I know I never would have hiked that mountain had I not consciously worked on this during the year.

     One of the biggest risks I took this year was in the way I taught writing. It was not intentional, but I started to notice students getting burned out by turning in analytical paper after analytical paper. It was like they were on a rinse and repeat wash cycle that could not be broken; in turn, their writing became stale and boring to read. So, I decided to teach more skill based writing through creative writing prompts and exercises. For example, when I wanted to teach students the art of embedding quotations, I had them create a project modeled after Humans of New York. When I wanted them to learn voice in writing and its importance, they wrote open letters to the characters in A Streetcar Named Desire. I brought music back in my classroom to teach writing mini lessons. We analyzed the apologies of Matt Lauer and Harvey Weinstein to teach compare/contrast writing. I took risks all year long by doing many things in a rather unconventional manner, and after reading evaluations from my students, they seem to have seen the value in many of the assignments. I will continue to take such risks and hopefully reap the rewards. In turn, I started to see my students taking risks with the way they played with language in their writing, but the sentences they constructed, by the way they analyzed and thought about a piece of writing. Their analytical writing had voice that spoke so loudly at times there's no way I couldn't stay awake, and their final college essays were far more risky and creative than the safe essays I was used to reading. 

     I guess the point I want to reiterate is to find that one trait on your learner profile that you know needs work. Commit to that. Resolve to do things one percent better each day. And maybe, just maybe, you'll see changes. I'm still far from a nature girl, but I learned to appreciate the world around me through the risks I've taken. I even found myself riding an upside down roller coaster with my son at King's Dominion this week. I kept my eyes closed and screamed the entire time. Perhaps next time I will resolve to keep my eyes wide open, but for now, I'm satisfied with the risks I've taken. 

 In one of Tom Petty's songs, "Into the Great Wide Open," he writes,

                                                     

That song pretty much sums up my experience as a risk-taker. While I would not claim rebel status, and I certainly like to think I have a clue, I've gone into the great wide open. I've seen the skies of blue. I've tried new things in my classroom. I've climbed mountains. I've taken risks.