The Soles Of The Feet: An Initiation

Never before have I had difficulty with behavior management in a T’ai Chi Chih class. However, recently, a small subset of the high school age children I taught proved extremely challenging. In spite of my best efforts, I was failing. Something was terribly wrong. In the end, the experience forced me to examine the constructs or assumptions that informed my teaching.

Generally speaking, within the context of my TCC classes, I have always been fairly lenient about the sequence of activities. Because I have many classroom sessions (50 minutes per class 3 times a week for 18 weeks), there exists an atypical challenge of maintaining student interest while trying essentially to teach what it means to be “grounded” (as teenagers are quite dissociated from their bodies), “the effort of no effort” and “softness and continuity” over and over and over again. If a student occasionally asks to start with the Nei Kung or “Duck Egg” rather than TCC movements, I have always responded flexibly to honor the request.

With this current group, however, students began to request their preferences more and more frequently. Initially, I allowed the children to dictate the form of the class. “Give them what they want until they come to want what you have to give.” One of the ideals underlying everything I had done with the students originated from the hope that they felt accepted simply as they were and felt at peace to be themselves, in part to counteract the rigorous expectations of their college prep school environment. Another hope was that they would come to experience TCC as an ally, which could offer support and rejuvenation in the midst of their already frenzied young lives.

However, a small subset of students continued not only to demand and whine, but also felt comfortable in chit-chatting throughout the period. The constant chatter prevented everyone from maintaining their concentration in the soles of the feet. Despite repeated gentle reminders to stop talking, focus and take a breath, they wouldn’t stop. Despite classic teacher moves of breaking up the offending party into smaller groups and requiring silent individual practices, the challenging students still found ways to disrupt.

Remembering Paul Reps’ edict, “If it isn’t fun, it’s better left undone,” I tried distracting the distracters by making the class more enjoyable. I had the children take walks, listen to relevant readings and CDs, watch the TCC movement DVD, practice to music, have crabwalk races, blah blah blah. I included a wide range of activities to keep the interest level high and the children present and embodied so we could actually get to a deeper receptivity in learning TCC. Basically, I was trying to use entertainment to occupy their minds and bodies long enough for the deeper subject matter to take hold. Not surprisingly, though, this “effort of ridiculous effort” made me exhausted. It did not serve the greater need of the group.

In April, the class reached a pinnacle of disrespect. One student rolled her eyes every time I corrected her movement. Another student constantly interrupted, offering random comments and opinions about anything and drew the entire class off their already tentative focus. General discontent spread. Students were miserable because their teacher had lost control. The class was falling apart. Enough was enough. The hell with fun. The hell with giving them what they (thought they) wanted. They couldn’t handle the freedom.

I had to develop qualities of teaching which were foreign to me: unfriendly, strict, excessively structured and seemingly cold. I told the students they no longer had a vote, that they had been rude and disrespectful to their teacher, the subject matter, their peers and themselves. I laid out detailed expectations: do not talk amongst yourselves, do not make requests and do not distract one another. I also spoke privately to the child whom I perceived was the ringleader.

And then I proceeded with the class. To their credit, the students responded to the best of their ability. The last few weeks of class were more structured and “successful” even though I still sensed discomfort. Several of the most challenging students seemed angry at me, even if they were superficially more appropriate. To end the class, I had the students respond in writing to several questions: 1) What could you have changed about your behavior to make the class more successful? 2) If you were the teacher and were teaching yourself, how would you have taught yourself? 3) If you were the teacher teaching this class – with the content, different student levels and the personalities – how would you have taught it? 4) What activities most encouraged a sense of grounding or feeling at peace? 5) What did you learn about yourself that was unexpected or surprising? 

Some interesting responses resulted from my survey, most particularly from the talkative “ringleader.” In answer to number 1 she wrote: “I sometimes have too much energy and little focus; however, that is not specific to this class. I could try to focus more and be less social. Number 2: “The concept of this class is difficult for me – as difficult for me to be 100% present as it is for a teacher to work with me. My mind is not used to calming down, and I need to work on that. If I was a teacher, I would try to recognize that not everyone can act or learn the way you want them to. TCC is certainly not easy and not the same to everyone.” Number 3: “Embrace every personality, and don’t expect that everyone learns the same way. Be as happy and helping as you can be without targeting anybody. Number 4: “I liked individual meditation and being able to move without being critiqued. I struggle when I feel I am being watched or criticized, so individual practices without instruction are best for me.” Number 5: “My mind is restless; it’s hard for me to relax when there are always so many things that need to be done. I stress easily but I have also learned that when I set my mind to it, I can relax and get really involved in TCC.”

Ironically, I believe this student accessed some connection to herself through TCC after all! What did I learn? Being empathetic and responsive to superficial needs must be second to structures that support deeper student learning. First and foremost, students must learn how to stay connected to the soles of their feet. TCC can teach you TCC (as Justin has often said) but not if the students aren’t embodied in the first place. “Fun” (a la Paul Reps) is still a requirement, but only when contained within a level appropriate. What a rigorous experience and what intense learning … though such rigor is often necessary to purify, clarify and allow necessary changes within the self.