What I’ve Learned from Teaching Mindfulness in NYC Public Schools
You might say that the goal of mindfulness is to change our perspective by seeing thoughts, emotions, body sensations and outer events more clearly.
And yet, how do we do this under the stress of a pandemic? And how can we “see clearly” while a collective outrage over injustices that have remained hidden in plain sight for centuries, is now erupting in cities, suburbs and screens across the globe?
I have a somewhat unique perspective on these two major upheavals. As the Dean of a NYC public high school in Manhattan (Food and Finance High School) I am confronted on a daily basis by the perspective of the kids I am serving -- almost all of whom are Black or brown -- whose circumstances are far less cushy than my own.
And for six years, I’ve taught an accredited class I created and call “Mindful Fitness,” incorporating meditation, neuroscience, and, most importantly, a support network of kids sharing with one another.
I have found this work to be a surprising ally in my own (slow) awakening process.
Through it all, my students revealed their humanity to me and each other, in ways that had never been apparent in my English classroom: vulnerable, honest, brave, and without a hint of BS. These are New York City kids after all! And they understand suffering.
Meanwhile, some students reported family dynamics changing simply because they were changing. Solviany, a 10th grader, said that her relationship with her mother had improved because she could now see that her Mom had too much on her plate. Somehow, she had never looked before. Jenaiya, a 12th grader, made Honor Roll for the first time, though she’d never earned higher than mid-seventies before.
To quantify the results for my own understanding, I administered a behavioral assessment exam before and after the course in concert with the school psychologist. Across the board kids showed a 9.5% ability to improve focus. Among the ones who initially scored as at-risk, their improvement was 18.5 percent. Schoolwide disciplinary infractions lowered more than 40% by incorporating mindfulness and social emotional learning strategies in the handling of behavior.
And then came Covid-19.
As the crisis hit – and hit communities of color disproportionately hard – I launched a mindfulness zoom show called Calm and Connected. The idea was that I would interview a guest expert live each week with questions submitted from the kids around anxiety, anger, loss, identity and anything else they were struggling with.
It seemed like a superb idea somewhere between the third and fourth Guinness. But then something bizarre happened: it worked.
Sebene Selassie empathized with the pain of a freshman who felt unsafe trapped in close quarters with a family that didn’t accept her. Leslie Booker clarified the common misconception amongst many students that yoga was a “white thing.” Joanna Hardy taught how mindfulness is necessary in times of protest and injustice.
Jon Kabat-Zinn listened intently to a senior named Dakota who was struggling to transition to college without an actual graduation ceremony, and confessed that when he was a kid he “never felt smart.” Jay Michaelson counseled a sophomore named Chris who had been bullied for being gay. Damian, a 10th grader, boldly interrupted a conversation on forgiveness between Sharon Salzberg and me when he thought the two of us were “overcomplicating it.”
But just like before the pandemic, the students have been the real teachers.
They’ve helped me see more clearly into the relative comfort of my own life. After all, I have all the food I need. And Netflix. And the luxury to meditate for sport.
Whereas, I’ve heard from a 17-year-old working 55 hours a week to keep her family afloat, an 18-year-old forced into a homeless shelter during quarantine, and a 16-year-old who hasn’t left her cramped studio apartment a single time since the pandemic began.
This is not to say that cabin fever isn’t very real for all of us. It’s just that it’s more real for some of us.
All this has been a part of, not in conflict with, my own mindfulness practice. Which after all is about expanding our narrow bubble of attention, bursting our habitual mental commentary about how bad things are for us, and galvanizing a sense of gratitude for the things that are actually working well in our lives despite the things that aren’t.
Not to mention developing a sense of compassion for those who don’t have it as good.
And now, of course, a change in perspective is being demanded for everyone in the wake of the George Floyd murder. Looking away is not an option no matter how comfortable we have had it.
I’ve also learned that so-called “underprivileged” kids (a term most of my students hate, by the way) have a wisdom that shines in the face of disaster like some sort of immutable law of youth. So, to close, let me share some nuggets my students have shared in their weekly polls that have helped me, and might help you too.
What are some lessons you have learned during the Pandemic?
Rely on yourself
Never be too scared to take advantage of opportunities
Be kind to one another- we are all going through the same thing
Don’t take life for granted
People should start listening and stop inferring
The things we own are not that important
Life has a mind of its own
What are you doing to take care of your emotional health?
Meditating
Jotting down my feelings
Trying to be more organized
Creating boundaries
Acknowledging my sadness
Sticking to my routine and exercising
Taking a reeeeeaaaaaallllyyyyyy long shower
Staying as close as I can with the people I love
Writing
Talking to my friends as much as I can
Staying on track with my skincare!
Breathing
Brian Simmons is a pioneer in the development of mindfulness programs in public schools. Currently he is Dean of Mindfulness and Restorative Interventions at Food and Finance High School in Manhattan.Brian’s work has been featured in the NY Times and other media outlets including an NPR documentary on the adolescent brain. Before becoming a teacher, he was an award-winning writer/producer for Comedy Central.