School Teamwork and Unexpected Results

Breakfast with Pandora has an entertaining post, A Memoir in the Voice of Haven Kimmel, about the downs, and ups, of group work in middle school:

In sixth grade we were in Mrs. Woolridge's class. She was a large, perpetually annoyed woman who spent her life attempting to carry out the latest educational methods on a class that was about as cooperative as a mule on Mr. Pibb.

At the beginning of the year we were divided into teams, which meant that four or five of us would push our desks together and make a kind of desert island with pencil wells.

One of the team was the Team Leader. This was the kid with High Potential, the smart one.

Another kid was the Co-Leader, also a smarty-pants, but not quite as smart as the Leader.

The third and fourth kids in the team, the Team Members, were dumb, or troublemakers, or both. The theory was that the Team Leader would do his or her work quickly and efficiently, then spend the rest of the time helping the others, walking around the island making helpful suggestions as necessary. Kids, being supervised by their own peers rather than an authority figure, would relax and learn naturally. Mrs. Woolridge would then be free to preside from her desk at the front of the room and watch the good teaching awards roll in.

All this we learned lightning-quick, because as sixth graders and the kings of Malcolm X Elementary School, we were nobody's fools.

And we were not about to make Mrs. Woolridge's theories look good.

(Definitely read the rest here).

Now, this post started as a comment to the above post, but it grew. 

My experience of team work in school was different than that described above.  I was painfully shy in most of middle school and high school, and so I didn't say a word in teams unless they were made up of other girls like me - quiet, bookish, polite and hard-working.  Then things would go fine - occasionally slowing down as we would politely defer to each other. 

Mixed teams, however, turned out more like this:

What do you think we should do?

I don't know, what do you think?

This is a dumb assignment!

And I would shrug my shoulders occasionally.  And tear my fingernails, which is what I did when I was stressed.  There was one team-work experience in 9th grade that I remember only because all ten fingernails bit the dust. 

Fast forward to senior year of high school.  I was a little more comfortable because I was actually in the same school for the second year in a row.*  We were supposed to split up into lab groups in physics class.  Everything was going well - I was in a group of (polite, hard-working, etc.) girls from marching band which included one of my best friends. 

However...

...the first day of class that year, there was a new guy (those of us in advanced classes pretty much knew each other).  He sat in the middle of the class - 3rd seat, 3rd row (I sat at the edge, of course).  I first noticed him when he laughed.  He just threw back his head with his eyes closed and laughed like he was enjoying himself and didn't care what anyone thought (in high school?!).

Clunk!

I fell.  Big time. 

One of those crushes that, at first, makes you just happy to be alive, and feeling like "How beauteous mankind is!  O brave new world That has such people in't."**  One where you bounce around the house and jump up to touch the top of the doorways (not easy when you're 5' 1").  Okay, the angsty part came later in the winter (I'd never had a crush that actually went anywhere at that point).  But, in September, it was just a fun crush.

Then, into my nice, neat, little, well-behaved, PEACEFUL, band geek, girl-world which was our newly formed physics lab group, HE barged.  Why is this new guy joining OUR lab group?  We were NOT the stylish, popular girls that guys would want to know.  We weren't the dangerous, exciting girls either.  I didn't even know who the dangerous girls were in our large high school, and I was only vaguely aware of the popular ones.  We were happy in our own world on the musical periphery - and this guy was from the art crowd!

I was comfortable with the other girls in the lab group, though, so I didn't clam up for too long.  I eventually was able to talk to him (more bounding around the house) and tease him, and send a Valentin-o-gram to him (long story here).

And the rest of the long story is that we've been married for 26 years and 3 kids.  And lots of daffodils.

Of course you're going to get a song.  This one, Ten Year Night, by Lucy Kaplansky (from the CD, Ten Year Night" just jumped out at me this week.  However, you have to listen to the feeling behind the words, because the words themselves have nothing to do with us.  Verse 1 - I don't usually drive when we're together.   Verse 2 - I don't go to bars and I'm not that impetuous! 

I don't drive "80 on the highway," but the words that fit best in the song are in the bridge and the chorus:

Going 80 on the highway.  We're all rushing somewhere.
But the way I feel tonight, It's like I'm already there.
Open your eyes and look at me, and look at me
Open your eyes and look at me
'Cause I have and hold this love for you
Before this ten year night is through
I'm telling you
Take if from me, take it from me.

So, it's the intensity of her feelings about him in this song, the direction, the pull, and the focus, rather than the biography of the words, that are so familiar to me in my feelings for dear husband.

* I had new schools in 5th, 6th, 9th, 10th and 11th grades.  Not helpful if you're shy.

**  "The Tempest," Shakespeare, Act V, scene i, lines 181 - 4.

Comments

[moominpapa]

At first I was speechless reading this. I've known the basic story for years, of course, but you've never described the feelings in this much detail before. That would take writing, of course, so I shouldn't be surprised to read this. But I am.

When I joined that lab group I was the goody-two-shoes, bookworm, un-athletic, shy, and awkward guy from NY who had never had any luck with girls and had no self confidence to speak of. In NC no one knew this. For ten years of school before this everyone knew this. The freedom to reinvent myself was intoxicating. I'm not sure I have ever felt that free. I could be anyone. So I decided to ride high and feel the wind in my face. I took the roads that looked to be the most interesting, most different, most daring compared to my past. I was going to leave that timid guy as far behind as I possibly could. So a lab group of all girls - intelligent, interesting, intense girls - seemed by far the most out of my former character. I held my breath and jumped.

And besides, there was this particularly cute blond with a great figure. On the first day she had been wearing a short sleeved top that set her shape off nicely. I had never known what to say to girls, so when joining the group I just acted like I'd never had any doubt, and made it up as I went along. It was scary - it was amazing. Part of me watched agog while another part carried on like I had all the confidence in the world.

I hadn't banked on the blond's sarcastic wit, or how much fun she and her friends were to tease. It made it possible to sustain the act. If it had been the popular girls I would have run out of gas and confidence and dropped back into old habits. If it had been the dangerous girls, I'm not sure what would have happened. I met two of the dangerous girls later, and managed to skirt peril in both cases. No, these band girls were just the right girls to gain some real confidence - they were able to appreciate my weird style. I could not believe my luck. It was hard to focus on the physics experiments.

Because the blond was hard to read, though, I never detected any interest, so I never thought to ask her out. (From your post I now see how much you were trying to hide - you succeeded completely).

Months later, I had a hard time concentrating the rest of the day after that Valentin-o-gram. I had to chill and refocus on everything else. I had to think. I had to lay plans on how I would try to approach you again. That snow storm made me fey enough to just come knock on your door. A walk in the snow seemed in keeping with my off-beat methods, and maybe just a little romantic.

What really made me speechless tonight, when I read your post, was your use of Lucy Kaplanski's song. I always think of your love for me as very deep and constant. To me it has always felt stronger, more sure, than mine - like your heart is made for longer voyages than mine. Now I catch a glimpse of the intensity, too, and everything stops. You got me this time - even more than the Valentin-o-gram. I sat with my mouth in an o trying to figure out how to start this comment.

So here you are, again, passing love notes in front of everyone. Taking me by surprise in front of everyone. "Everyone is looking at you." Let 'em look. I'm the luckiest man alive - they oughtta look. They don't get to see this every day.

But I do. Oh you great glorious gift... I adore you. Let the whole world know how much I love this woman - who is still so much that sweet girl in that lab group, but also so much more.

[M Light]

I'm all teary again!

[DF]

It is such a great blessing and inspiration to read your sloppy virtual PDAs.

Ever may you gush.

[Justin Thibault]

Thanks for submitting this article to Tarheel Tavern #108!

I look forward to another great one in next week's Tarheel Tavern.