Decluttering to Find Joy

When was the last time you stopped and thought about how to bring joy into your life? I typically feel joyful when I've carried a positive attitude and applied it to my profession--teaching or my role as a parent, and my effort and connection as a spouse (lol); I've also felt joyful when those I spend time with-- students I mentor, family, friends, or people I run into also exude positivity. But it wasn't until recently when I finished reading Timothy D. Walker's relevant and insightful book, Teach Like Finland, that I began examining my life and looking for ways to bring more joy into it. Not that one chapter nor strategy is better than another in his book, they are all equally important in my opinion, but one did resonate almost immediately.

Walker's strategy for "Simplifying the space" punctuates the importance of limiting visible distractions in the classroom. He explains that when "we're purposeful about the stuff that goes on our walls, there's joy there." I suddenly found myself reexamining student work on display. Beginning with our unit of the year which asks students to write personal narrative, I had decided last year to kickstart the unit by asking my students to bring in a picture of themselves and create a short biography. I then titled certain sections of our walls to "Authors" and when students completed a writing task their piece would go up on display under their portfolio picture and bio. While thinking about our room, how this connected with Walker's ideas and my own, I began to explore the notion of displaying student work and asking whether the intention was for reasons of vanity or if student work actually produced more meaning and sparked joy within a learner. It didn't take me long to admit in reflection, that like some of my colleagues, even outside on the walls of our ELA hallway my student's work had spilled out and tattooed the walls. In retrospect, was I putting up student work to show it off? Yes, absolutely. I wanted my students to feel proud that they completed a piece? But if I were to be really honest with myself wasn't I also putting their pieces on the walls and outside our door to stay afloat with the pressures of my colleagues and to communicate to administration and everyone else that we were doing really important and relevant things in my classroom? Ugh. Now looking back on last year--and all the other years of displaying student work--I realize that the longer my student's pieces were left up the more the purpose and relevance, and joy was washed away.

The less-is-more approach was the way to go I decided and now that summer is here, I figure why not test out decluttering at home and later transfer this kind of minimalist approach to my classroom in the fall? If we are intentional about what is displayed on our walls, within closets, heck even a garage or shed then there surely must be a sense of congruity,right? Just yesterday, I started investigating my girls' room. I have two risky and precocious little people who are submerged in learning every moment of every day. They are absolutely curiousity-striken (yes, I am coining that phrase) and everything is new and exciting for them--except when it's not because they get stuck in the clutter that starts to desensitize and limit their imaginations: Where is that sentence puzzle game? I remember placing my baby's shoes somewhere around here, but I can't seem to find them; Where did my new book go or where's the other tinker toy that would help me finish my castle? In the search for making learning and their lives more meaningful, my husband and I agreed that our children would not only need to be able to "see" where their belongings were located but also to have easy access in pulling these materials from a shelf on their own. In doing so, I have already seen a happier individual emerged from her bedroom full of confidence that she can get started building, tinkering, and creating, independent of me. Yes, this transformation is one about material objects finding a place, but most importantly it is also an exercise in developing a more mindful space that truly brings joy to a child. Having material to work with is essential for creating, so why not be able to find it!

As the next school year approaches, I want to apply strategies for designing a decluttered room in which students are front and center. My own strategy will be first asking students what they want to be displayed; what they see value in; what they are proud of. I see myself placing value and importance on those pieces that are deserving of visible recognition, but I don't necessarily be the one has to decide what goes up, what comes down, when, why, etc. I want my students to have that responsibility. And if it works out the way I see it, my student's work will bring more meaning and relevance to their work because emphasis will be placed on the pieces that illustrate higher-level work. Thus, my students will learn the importance in holding themselves accountable, taking ownership in their work, and finding joy in the process.

Just today, my own little creatures of learning tinkered with rock painting and collaging in our backyard and while my five year old didn't feel her piece was finished enough to hang up in their room, my three year old did. From the looks of it, you would have thought that the 5yr old's more developed collage was ready for display, but she did not feel it was. In contrast, her sister was ready and proud and filled with joy to have finished the art project. Right away, Jet wanted me to help her pin her piece up on the wall. While I'm still exploring Walker's idea that work that goes up should earn it's place, I'm also confronted with my role in bringing importance to our tasks so that my students want to have their projects on our walls independent of the pressures I convey. As you can see, I'm still working out the glitches but excited to pull my foot off the gas pedal and reserve the lane for the real driver, our learners who get there when they are ready.