A Jar of Jellybeans

You know what's great about jellybeans? Yes, they're candy. True, they do contain sugar and food coloring. From a nutritional standpoints, there's nothing to love there. BUT: they're tiny! One or two little beans can give a child an instant happiness boost, and it's not like you're handing them a Snickers bar. Also? They're colorful and fun to look at. Ergo, I find myself using them for illustrations with some regularity.

(Image source here.)

This past Wednesday in morning launch, I introduced to the children the idea of the Emotional Bank Account. I told them that in every one of their relationships ("look around the room and meet every pair of eyes"), there is an account where they make deposits and withdrawals. We discussed some ways we make deposits, demonstrating by putting jellybeans into a jar: Giving compliments. Sharing our things. Helping with math problems. Keeping promises. Apologizing when we do wrong. Offering forgiveness.

Of course, we can also make withdrawals: Teasing. Touching each other's things without asking. Being rude. Singing loudly after being asked to stop. Lying. Excluding.

With their permission, I used two of the children as an example. Let's call them B and C. :-) Last week, B had teased C during closing when she admitted to not cleaning up her project area properly. I reminded the kids that C had said she wasn't offended by that teasing. (It wasn't malicious, but with different children, it could have felt hurtful.) I asked them why they thought B was able to tease C without C getting offended. Pointing to our two jars -- one full of beans, one almost empty -- I asked, "Which jar represents B and C's relationship?"

Since B and C have been friends for several years and have many "deposits" accrued, the teasing withdrawal didn't even register. However, if over those years B had made fun of C's choice of outfits, and C had broken one of B's toys and then blamed him for it, and B had tried to boss C around, and C had formed a club that excluded B ... well, with such a low balance to start off with, that teasing incident would have gone a lot differently, no?

Cyrus came up with the fun idea that during that day, each child would have a cup and would come to me each time someone made a deposit in their relationship, asking me to put a jellybean in that classmate's cup. There was some discussion about whether rewarding kind behavior creates impure motives, but it was ultimately agreed that doing this for just one day would be fun, harmless, and potentially motivational.

I enjoyed having the children approach me all day with good reports of one another, lobbying unselfishly to have each other's cups tended with jellybeans. "Abigail deserves a jellybean. She shared her Hershey's kisses with me." "Milam and Reed persevered on their project all the way through free time. That inspired me." "Hope made a deposit when she gave me a hug." Why does this matter? How does it relate to reaching higher in math, spelling, and economics? Well, don't we all learn more easily in an atmosphere in an atmosphere of love and kindness?

I hope this illustration may be useful around your homes in the days and weeks ahead. Asking "how can you make a deposit here instead of a withdrawal?" is a great calibration. If your house is anything like mine, balances in the jars among siblings fluctuate more than the stock market!

That's Generosity

As you probably know, every session at AI we zoom in the lens on a different character trait. This session, in tandem with our Entrepreneurship Quest, we're highlighting generosity. (Why do we seek to make money and succeed in business? To get rich and chase the American Dream, or to glorify God by sharing freely our newfound resources? How can we be generous with everything we have -- not only with money, but also with compliments, with encouragement, with time, with skills, with ... um, candy?)

Last week in one of our morning launches, I shared with the kids the very moving story of Rachel Beckwith, a 9-year-old girl who wanted to raise money for charity:water in lieu of birthday gifts. Initially disappointed at not meeting her goal, she soon afterward was the victim of a terrible car accident. As she lay in the hospital in critical condition and eventually passed away, her small campaign for charity:water went viral. In the wake of her death, over one million dollars was raised for wells in Africa. This sweet girl was responsible for bringing clean drinking water to over 37,000 Ethiopians.

Many of the children's hearts were obviously touched by the story of a girl their age whose life and death inspired generosity in so many. And without any prompting, Josiah remarked, "You know, I think we should stop complaining about the way the water in the schoolhouse tastes funny. [And that, my friends, is a whole 'nother saga!] For the people she was trying to raise money for, our water would probably taste GREAT."

Hear, hear.

There was much excitement last week over Thursday's Snack Mix Wars, which is just one of the challenges along the way to each project team's creation of a mini-company. Some of you may have wondered, what happens to the profits that the kids made off of all the kindhearted mamas (and dad, and a few siblings)? And what about all the points they're earning along the way by completing challenges and (ouch) documenting their work?

The answer is that we're so passionate about encouraging generosity that each team is going to use their funds to choose a gift from the World Vision catalog to send to others! All that snack mix hawking, diligence with the dreaded paperwork, and initiative in completing bonus challenges means pigs, goats, chickens, a mosquito net, or maybe a well, sponsored by each of the project teams. In fact, the team with the most points from ES and from MS gets to have their contribution DOUBLED. Moms and dads, feel free to join with us at home in building excitement for this opportunity to be generous!

Treasure Hunting

(A role-playing moment from the Entrepreneurship Quest, kicked off this past week.)

This week, we've been pondering gratitude. Last weekend my family and I had the privilege of attending a concert of the African Children's Choir, where it was brought home to us just what a priceless privilege it is for the children of the choir to attend school and receive an education. Scarcity breeds appreciation, and they realize that education is their ticket out of poverty and into their dreams of becoming a pilot, a pastor, an accountant, a mechanical engineer or a midwife. Yet our own kids are chauffeured to school each morning in comfortable cars, laden with healthy lunches and snacks. Education is not scarce. So can we blame them if they sometimes fixate on what's missing (the project teammates they would have preferred, the seat assignment they would have wanted, etc.) instead of what's there?

So Wednesday morning during launch, I handed each of the children a marker, pencil or pen. There was no rhyme or reason to who got what. And what they got was what they got. We went around the room and each expressed something to be grateful for about the particular gift they had received. For some, it was easy ("I got a pink marker and it's my favorite color!"). For others, the muscles of gratitude and imagination got to stretch a bit. Abigail dug deep to point out that her gray marker reminded her of God being light in the darkness. Meg thought her brown marker could be useful should she ever want to draw a dog!

Then we practiced a bit with other scenarios. How could we be grateful for a disappointing team assignment, or something else that falls to our lot, unwelcome? I challenged the children to "treasure hunt" during the day. And what do you know, during Core Skills my extremely fizzy bottle of kombucha made a big mess when I tried to open it, foaming all over my jeans and the carpet. As some of the children leaped to the rescue and we sponged up the mess, Josiah remarked that we could be grateful that the kombucha didn't explode on my Chromebook!

I've noticed an unfortunate tendency in myself as a guide, which is that I am affected easily by the emotional and relational fluctuations in the room. If something has gone awry in the afternoon, I go to the staff meeting wanting to vent about it, or go home feeling defeated. I allow that one thing to cloud the truth and beauty of the rest of the day, and forget the good that God is bringing out of even (especially?) the harder moments. Just like the children, I need a conscious reminder to give thanks in EVERYTHING, and to turn my eyes away from what is missing to what is already there.

So here are a just a few reminders to myself -- some of the many moments this week that deserve my real focus -- that may bless you as well.

• Caroline telling me, "Mom, ever since the break when I was missing my classmates so much, I've really started seeing them more as Stradivariuses." [A reference to a launch about how each of them is more valuable and precious than a Stradivarius violin.]
• Ben explaining to our visiting child what a session is: "It's six weeks of school." Me: "And Ben, what happens at the end of the six weeks?" Ben: "We have to take a break. It's horrible." (!) Murmurs of general assent from the class. Genevieve: "I know, I was SO BORED without you guys over the break!" [I can't imagine too many schools where a conversation like this takes place!]
• The loud cheering and big hugs when Cyrus and Milam walked into Thursday morning launch a few minutes late after being out sick for two days after the break. 
• Aliya and Abigail mentioning our visiting child being a highlight of the week for them. 
• The rush to fill the jar of Character Call-outs on Thursday afternoon. 
• Gage running to check on a younger boy who was hurt during GaGa.

The math, spelling, grammar and writing are happening. But perhaps more importantly, they are learning through ups and downs to love one another, and for that I am truly grateful. 

(DEAR time reading buddies)