Graduation

It’s all moving so fast and it’s so big. And it’s painfully beautiful.

If you prefer, you can listen to me read this post…

Have you ever had that feeling when something is so powerful and moving it makes your heart hurt, but in a good way. Like when the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes in one day. No matter the causes, that kind of rapid change tears muscle fibers and it hurts even as it makes you feel fuller and more joyful than you can understand.  

That’s what has happened to my heart over the past year in Kenya. And my brain. And my whole body. 

There’s a long backstory here – and someday I’ll tell it all, probably in pieces – but for now I just want to sink into the joyful, heart-rending, almost-now: the first cohort of Kenyan Good Natured Learning fellows will graduate this weekend. These 14 teachers are each – and all – the kind of teachers who make you cry they’re so good. I know for certain that each of them has a student in their class right now who – when asked as an adult about an important role model from their youth – will name these teachers. 

They love their students without restraint. They are masters of their craft. They are scrappy and resourceful. They are no-excuses-against-long-odds teachers who show up. And they teach. 

A year ago, I didn’t know I would ever get to do what I love in Kenya. We moved here in August of 2022, with me as the “trailing spouse” (as we’re known among the expat set). I strongly dislike (Clara has trained me not to say hate) that term, and its associated image of me tethered to Eric, drifting in the wind of his whims. That sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me. And it’s not accurate. 

Quick story: When Eric proposed to me, he fell into a backwards patriarchal moment harkening some 1950’s-Donna-Reed-perfect-housewife-crap where he felt the need to ask my dad for my hand in marriage, but knew that I would NOT approve of that. He threaded a fine needle by asking my dad AFTER he had proposed to me and I had accepted (and actually after I had sort-of proposed to him with carrot soup, but that’s a story for another day). He disclosed this order of operations to my dad, saying something like, “I want to marry Becca and I am reaching out to you because it seems like the thing to do, but I have already asked her because I thought she would be pissed off if I asked you first.” 

“Sounds like you know my daughter,” my dad answered. 

Anyhow, although I reject the term, I was technically a trailing spouse. Or whatever. And based on my lack of familiarity with the African continent as a whole and with Kenya specifically – having spent all of 5 days here prior to our move – I didn’t anticipate I would be running Good Natured Learning (the Colorado-based-start-up-zygote non-profit Erin Allaman and I had just incorporated) here in Kenya.

There’s a lot to say about the journey to launching Good Natured Learning here. Aligned stars, embracing the woo, saying yes, Mildred – who is a force of – and for – nature. Someday soon I need to get it all down on paper just to make sense of it all. And make it more tangible.

For now - I just want to tell you that these 14 Kenyan teachers – Shem, Fred, Khadija, Esther, Liz, Ruth, Carol, Melissa, Ellah, Aggie, Sophia, Jackson, Sadia, and Lyne – our first cohort of fellows in Africa – and certainly not the last – have taught me more about the world and the work than I ever could have imagined. 

Last December, when we gathered at Brackenhurst – a peaceful, forested retreat venue just an hour’s drive from the hustle and bustle of Nairobi – for the 5-day, 4-night Nature Retreat that marks the official beginning of the Good Natured Learning Fellowship for teacher leaders, I was scared out of my gourd. My hackles were up. I thought, ‘These teachers are going to look at me and say, “Hey crazy Mzungu (White lady), why are you telling us to hug trees when our students are struggling to read and we don’t have pencils?’” 

I had written so many stories like this in my mind that I nearly caved. 

Were it not for Mildred showing up at my house ready to go, I don’t know how I would have gotten out the door let alone to Brackenhurst. 

But I did go. 

And the stories in my head weren’t the story. 

The actual story (from my vantage) goes like this:

Over our 5-day, 4-night retreat in nature, these 14 teachers said to me in a gazillion different ways: 

You’re saying nature connections can make a positive difference in the lives of our students – helping them learn better and feel better. 

And they can help us feel more joyful and whole as teachers. 

And they can help the planet. 

You’re telling us that we are experts and can make this part of the way we teach.

And then they looked at me and said in all.the.ways, 

Let’s go. 

And they haven’t looked back.

Each of these Fellows has successfully integrated nature connections into their teaching practice. And all of them have seen positive results in their students – calmer, more engaged, more collaborative – and in themselves – happier, more joyful, more creative. 

They have trained their colleagues too, spreading the love.

And they have taught me to dream big and imagine what can happen when 81 million teachers in schools around the planet facilitate nature connections for their 1.5 billion students who are with them for almost 20% of their waking hours. 

This Saturday we return to Brackenhurst for our “Graduation and What’s Next?” Nature Retreat. Our whole family of 16 – the 14 Fellows, Mildred, and I – will be together in and with Nature.  

So my heart fibers tear and my eyes tear and I’ll share more when I’m ready.

❤️,

B