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  • Decommissioning Our Lives

    My mother, the furthest thing from a hoarder, collects napkins. And straws. My family has a ritual of meeting on Saturday mornings for coffee, and when it’s time to leave, she collects everyone’s unused items and tucks them into her purse. To be clear, Mom and Dad have no problem purchasing napkins from the store. My mom simply hates waste. While she certainly cares about the environment, her actions are more a matter of practicality and purpose. You will find stacks of these unused napkins in my parents’ cars, their garage, and my mom’s sewing room - anywhere a small spill might require ready access. It’s probably not surprising, then, that after a recent trip to the local Dairy Queen, I had difficulty throwing away the unused plastic spoon included in the bottom of the sack. I found myself conducting a weird anthropomorphic exercise in which the spoon was lamenting the fact that it had not fulfilled its destiny. This led me to consider how incredibly well designed single-use items are. Cheaply made, purposeful, and ubiquitous, like Forky from the movie Toy Story 4 , they long to be used and then discarded. The less notoriety the better. Still, one would have to imagine that among all of those discarded single-use items, at least a few of them would be wondering, “Is that it?” The same could be said for other consumer goods that have lost favor with their owners resulting in a trip to the trash bin. Fortunately, there has been an awakening among many to preserve our planet which includes a rethinking of a number of previously reflexive practices including waste disposal. Staying on the topic of single-use items, for example, efforts are being made by manufacturers to utilize more compostable materials, and many restaurants are curbing their distribution practices regarding condiments, napkins, and other items. This awakening has been fueled in part by the leadership of schools and universities where sustainability efforts have been a focus in the classroom and in campus operations. Whether it is lunch service composting programs, alternative energy initiatives, or intelligent lighting solutions, when schools model with intention what is being taught in the classroom regarding our environment and sustainability, students witness firsthand how their efforts matter. In my opinion, this is one area where those involved in education, both public and private, have earned high marks. The ethos of the Church compels Catholic schools to dive deeper still. The protection of our common home , the term Pope Francis uses, is not simply a social good, it is a moral imperative that cannot be properly addressed without recognizing the imbalance in the ways in which environmental degradation most negatively impacts the poor and voiceless. Laudato Si states, “[St. Francis of Assisi] helps us to see that an integral ecology calls for openness to categories which transcend the language of mathematics and biology, and take us to the heart of what it is to be human...Such a conviction cannot be written off as naive romanticism, for it affects the choices which determine our behaviour. If we approach nature and the environment without this openness to awe and wonder, if we no longer speak the language of fraternity and beauty in our relationship with the world, our attitude will be that of masters, consumers, ruthless exploiters, unable to set limits on their immediate needs.” By framing our teaching and sustainability efforts through this others-centered lens, students in Catholic schools and universities are challenged to think more critically about issues like, What trash do we produce and where does it end up? , Who has access to water and how is it used? , and What are greenhouse gasses and why do they matter? This does not suggest that there be universal agreement regarding a response. Reasoned people can and will disagree. However, it does emphasize our need to respond , and to do so with generosity. The Church’s call to build God’s kingdom animates our work. Thus, the large-scale sustainability efforts of Loyola University as laid out in their climate action plan A Just Future makes a difference. So too does the small community garden and composting program at St. Bonaventure's College, a K-12 school in St. John’s, Newfoundland. Spring is a time for cleaning, and this often includes decluttering. With that in mind, I’d like to suggest taking a modified page from the playbook of tidying expert Mari Kondo. For the next 7 days, every time you throw something away - whether it’s a napkin, a plastic spoon, or an old bike that has been sitting in the garage - first thank it for its service. Then let it go. I realize this decommissioning exercise seems hokie, and the purpose is not to make you feel badly every time you toss something out. Some things just need to be thrown away. The intent is to simply increase awareness regarding the amount and types of trash we generate, the virtue of those items, and the ways in which we as a society manage their continued existence. As the KonMari Method suggests, “Thinking deeply about each item you discard will affect how you live and acquire new things moving forward.” Decommission, count your blessings, and live accordingly. CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman is the Founder & President of Arrupe Virtual vol 3 issue 8

  • 2021 Stakeholders' Report

    We are pleased to share with you Looking Forward, AVLI's annual Stakeholders' Report telling the story of where we have been and where we are heading. Thanks to all those accompanying us on the journey.

  • Do I Really Want To Be Holy?

    I pray the rosary. I admit this with trepidation as I can feel judgment being formed by readers, some thinking “he’s one of us” and others thinking “he’s one of them.” The truth is, I’m probably neither. At various times in my life, I have felt a visceral closeness to God while at other times there is great distance. My current state is a bit more distant so I have been including the rosary in my prayer routine a few times each week as a placeholder which also enables me to spend time thinking about various intentions. As with most things these days, there’s an app for that. The one I use for the rosary mentions the special virtue or “fruit” that is associated with each rosary decade. For the fourth Luminous Mystery, the fruit is a desire for holiness . This seemed perfectly reasonable for many rosary sessions, but this past Tuesday, I found myself thinking, “Is that something I really aspire to?” Often, when we use the word holy in reference to a person, we’re doing so in a derogatory way. In addition, it seems as though the efforts of some who aspire to holiness are misplaced and judgmental. Even for those of us fortunate enough to know someone we consider to be truly holy, it’s complicated. My experience of holy people is that they tend to be uber authentic which is refreshing but also a bit unnerving. While we are attracted to their light, the insecurities stemming from our own imperfections often prevent us from getting too close. While exploring more deeply the idea of holiness, I learned that the Hebrew word most closely aligned with the concept of holiness is “kodesh” which means distinct or set apart for a purpose . This resonated with me because the holy people I know seem distinct. Even in the midst of their daily work, they are set apart. I was also reminded that I am already a holy person. Through the grace of Baptism, “a permanent spiritual mark [has been left] on our soul that makes us holy and opens us to salvation and eternal life with God.”(1) That means that I am set apart for a purpose. You are too. So what gives, then? Why the apprehension to desire holiness? For me, I think it’s because holiness seems like such a high bar. There is a never-ending stream of causes and moral dilemmas, and a holy person needs to be up to the task all of the time. This is too big of an ask for me. I fail too often to act, to give, to feel compassion in every circumstance. (Is it ok not to give money to the homeless person at the traffic light?) Then I recalled 1 Corinthians which refers to the body being made of many parts. If the holy realm is the entire body, I just need to be my part. In fact, if my call to holiness sets me apart for a purpose, then I should be compelled to do that which makes me distinct. Nothing more is expected. To use a sports metaphor, most Catholic saints weren’t all-stars; they were really good position players. I’ve been attached to Catholic secondary education for a long time. In my previous job at an all-boys Jesuit school, the president used to tell the students that they were precious and unrepeatable. I was always touched by this tender characterization, particularly for boys. The crux of Catholic education is to help young people grow in their understanding of self and their connection to the world around them. Each student is a gift, precious and unrepeatable, who will leave his/her mark on their family and community. Our job is to tease out their talents and aspirations. Though rarely stated this way, we educate to help students find their holiness. So what’s required of us in our journey toward greater holiness? In Pope Francis’ most recent sermon on the feast of Pentecost, he mentions three things - to “live in the present,” “look to the whole,” and “put God before yourself.” None of these things are particularly easy to do, but I’d like to briefly expound on “look[ing] to the whole” where Pope Francis goes on to say, “The Spirit does not mould isolated individuals but shapes us into a Church in the wide variety of our charisms, into a unity that is never uniformity.” In other words, we all have a role to play. The trick is knowing what that role is. That requires putting God before self and listening intently. Some of us know our calling. Others are likely living their holy journey without recognizing it as such. Those caring for a parent with dementia or a special needs child come to mind. This can be exceedingly demanding, and very much requires living in the present. Still, when recognized as holy time set apart for a purpose, moments of grace are revealed. For what purpose have you been set apart? I leave you with the following to ponder. Ephesians 1:18 May the eyes of your heart be enlightened, that you may know what is the hope that belongs to his call. (1) What Happens At Baptism, Loyola Press, https://www.loyolapress.com/catholic-resources/sacraments/baptism/what-happens-at-baptism/ CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman is the Founder & President of Arrupe Virtual vol 3 issue 9

  • Listening (as we do it) is overrated

    Folks, we have a listening problem. This has been written about ad nauseum in recent years, and there is plenty of blame to go around as to why. However, through a series of experiences and reflections this summer, I’d like to add the following thoughts to the conversation. It all started in June when reading Fr. Bill McCormick’s poignant article The Biden Communion debate shows the exhaustion of the U.S. church . We’re all familiar with the debate in question, and the article does a masterful job of exploring the blurring of Catholicism and the combative nature of politics in America, stating, “These are symptoms of exhaustion. Yes, this conflict, like others, involved frenetic activity, but that is only a sign of the sterility of the ritual. The ferocity of debates in the U.S. Catholic Church is a sign that we are desperately trapped in intellectual ruts. Our brains have become re-wired by years of futile conflict, and there is no obvious way out. We are simply habituated to react, and it would take tremendous energy and time to change, both of which we lack.” A few days later, a second article crossed my desk, College graduates lack preparation in the skill most valued by employers - collaboration . The crux of the article states that, not only do recent graduates lack the teamwork “skill,” half of all students have negative views toward their team-based class projects and other collaborative learning experiences. They’re not good at collaboration AND they don’t like it. (Though this claim is limited to recent graduates, my sense is that the same sentiments exist across a broader distribution of workers.) During the same timeframe, I was preparing for and participating in an international online conference of Jesuit school educators and leaders. The themes of this global colloquium were educating for faith, depth, reconciliation, and global citizenship. The small group engagement technique utilized was designed for spiritual conversation - a process that, among other things, encouraged participants to share openly, to suspend judgment, and to value reflection. Though the presentations and conversations were very rich and personally meaningful, a part of me thought, “Is that it? Where is this leading us? There doesn’t seem to be any concrete actionables.” Weeks later, Jesuit Schools Network Executive Director Fr. Bob Reiser and I met to discuss various aspects of the conference. Through the course of conversation he introduced me to Theory U, a leadership and change management method that incorporates a process for dialogue similar to that of the previously mentioned spiritual conversations. At its core, Theory U explores the interiority of systems, noting that, “We rarely pay attention to the deeper root condition: the source and interior condition from which we operate.” While this is true of systems, it is also true of people, and this is where the problem lies. We live through our senses. From seeing to feeling, our senses enable us to internalize external stimuli. The more we internalize, the better we’re able to interact with the world around us. Because our senses are largely working every minute of every day, we have internalized enough stimuli to operate 99.9% of our lives with great efficiency and hardly a thought. While our senses are innate, we know that we can also develop them through focused attention and practice. Think, for instance, of a master sommelier keenly developing her sense of taste and smell over years of training, or a precocious 7 year old who loves Where’s Waldo and practices so much that he can find Waldo nearly instantly upon seeing a new puzzle. In this way, senses are internalization skills. The more we develop these skills, the better we are at making sense of our surroundings. We teach these skills accordingly, and reward systems exist to reinforce the value society places on their development. Except for hearing - or at least the all-important subset of hearing, listening. Listening is the hearing skill we actively develop over our lifetime, and it is so important to our communal existence that no skill gets more attention. The issue is that the ways in which we teach and reward listening rarely focus on internalization. We frame listening as an externalization skill. When we are young, we equate proper listening to following directions. As we age, the focus turns to knowledge acquisition (often for the short term), the reward for which is good grades. Finally, we begin to seek understanding, but not for the purpose of internalization. Rather, we seek understanding as a means of gaining advantage. Whether it’s sales training, law school, marketing, journalism, or more, we learn to listen with an agenda. In fact those who get really good at listening are able to tease out and exploit others’ internalizations. Even leadership, one of our most treasured characteristics, is often taught from an agenda-based perspective. While this brand of leadership most certainly involves the internalization of narratives that ultimately leads to one taking a stand and “having one’s voice heard,” it can also be rigid, uncompromising, and ego-centric - leaving little room for the hard work of listening and dialogue. When was the last time you heard a role model or a commencement speaker tell you to demonstrate humility, to show deference, or to follow along rather than to be bold, blaze your own path, and to never yield? In short, we’ve been building the skill of listening with great precision and effectiveness. It’s just the wrong kind of listening. It’s incomplete. Catholic education’s humanist approach affords us the opportunity to promote a different listening narrative. In fact, educating for faith, depth, reconciliation, and global citizenship compels it. Theory U suggests that generative change requires listening with an open mind, an open heart, and, perhaps most importantly, an open will. An open mind enables us to consider new and conflicting information. An open heart is empathic, enabling us to see and acknowledge the viewpoints of others. And an open will enables movement. This is an internalized brand of listening that recognizes that we are always in motion. Even when we wish to remain in a fixed position, time is passing - the journey continues. As the spiritual conversations exercise referenced above most humbly reminded me, action and change don’t always need to be the objective of dialogue. Sometimes listening and being heard are enough. Dialogue doesn’t require either party to change their mind; it just requires that we be open to the prospect that our minds can be changed - and with it, our hearts and will as well. CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman is the Founder & President of Arrupe Virtual vol 4 issue 1

  • Young People and a Hope-Filled Future

    I’m about to break every rule regarding the do’s and don’ts of entertaining an audience. I’m going to tell you about my vacation. My wife and I just returned from the most wonderful trip - nearly three weeks in France, primarily in Paris. This was our first time traveling to Europe, and I was equally excited and anxious. Both Cathy and I worked diligently over the past nine months to learn some basic French, but this did little to alleviate my trepidations when our first encounters with French speakers washed over me like a wave. That being said, it’s amazing what you can learn by simply watching others and following their lead. After just a few days, we had our footing, and we had a command of public transportation and the use of GoogleMaps that enabled us to negotiate the city fairly well in spite of our language limitation. When we did have an issue, we weren’t afraid to ask for assistance, and people responded with great charity. In short, we were assimilated into the routine hustle and bustle of Paris. One of the general curiosities we all likely have when visiting new places is seeing how our norms, practices, and colloquialisms compare. We also want to get a sense of the people themselves, and to draw some generalizations based on our encounters. Are people from this town/region/country welcoming, conservative, liberal, boorish, authentic, trustworthy...? With that in mind, I’d like to share a few quick anecdotes. The first stems from a routine practice that I’ve witnessed in numerous cities from Paris to New York, Chicago, Washington D.C, and more - how we handle encounters with homeless people on the subway. As in the States, such encounters are relatively regular, so when it first happened in Paris, I looked to the actions of others to inform my strategy. Predictably, our collective response was to pretend that this particularly vocal homeless person wasn't there. We simply diverted our eyes and attention to other things. Then something remarkable happened that I feel privileged to have witnessed. A person approached the homeless man, stood directly in front of him, looked into his eyes as if to say, “I see you,” respectfully and tenderly handed him a few coins, and then returned to the place he had previously been standing. Not a word was spoken, yet so much was said. Some 10 days later, my wife and I traveled by train to Versailles. After a long day spent walking the palace grounds we were set to return to Paris via the same train. While waiting on the station platform, there was an announcement over the intercom that caused other would-be passengers to begin rushing for the exit. Of course, Cathy and I understood none of the announcement, but it became quite evident that our plans had changed. While following the crowds in a panic, we learned that our train’s line had been shut down for the evening. We were instructed to board a bus which would take us to a different station where we could try our luck on a different line. The bus was full of frantic people, none more so than us as we did our best to solicit help from complete strangers who themselves were attempting to find their way. It was in this chaos that a voice from behind us emerged, saying, “I’ll help you. I’m traveling to the same Paris station, so come with me.” And help us she did. Not only did she lead us to our new platform, she stood with us until the train arrived, she sat with us during the ride back to Paris, AND she rushed us all the way to the open doors of our connecting train which we boarded seconds before its departure, leaving our guardian angel standing on the platform waving. Among the many great experiences on this trip, these two encounters are imprinted on my soul. What have they revealed to me? How fortunate I am to work for and with young people. The woman in Versailles was in her mid-20s. The person on the subway, a boy of 13 or 14. As another school year begins and us adults argue about school mask mandates, critical race theory, and all sorts of other issues, our Catholic school teachers and students are going about the business of teaching and learning. The Jesuits refer to this as “accompanying young people in the creation of a hope-filled future,” and I can think of nothing that is more human or more important. Education is messy. Each day, the myriad of human encounters produce joy, conflict, frustration, consolation, sadness, pride, and more. It’s a rollercoaster ride that can leave teachers and administrators feeling wrung out. Yet it’s in these moments that room is made for the Holy Spirit to enter and inch us closer to our final destiny. The world seems so complicated right now. It’s the simplicity of the two experiences mentioned above that made them so personally impactful. These two young people have illuminated my path to a hope-filled future. These are the types of moments that inspire educators to push all of their chips in year after year. Blessings to all of our young people, and to the parents and teachers accompanying them on their journeys. CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman is the Founder & President of Arrupe Virtual vol 4 issue 2

  • Charity and Indifference (The Art of Giving the Benefit of the Doubt)

    I think it’s fair to say that things have gotten a bit weird in schools. What started in the Spring of 2020 as a universal sense of disappointment from the pandemic-related shutdown of schools has devolved into divisive finger pointing and vitriol over everything from masks and vaccines to white-hot disagreement over how we discuss race, gender, climate, the American Dream, and a host of other topics. Many of these topics are really important, but the one guarantee I can make is that, unless something seriously changes, there will be no winners. If and when the dust settles, the only thing that will remain is hurt feelings and disenfranchisement. Some would say that we are in the midst of the next big debate between faith and science. Others see it as a debate regarding individual rights versus the responsibility to the collective. I simply see it as two sides not wanting to admit that they might be wrong, and doubling down at every opportunity to prove it. Distorting truth through the convenient selection of validating facts while disregarding the remaining body of evidence. Weaponizing shame. Unfortunately at times, I recognize myself in this state, as I think most people do. This isn’t the first time American schools were on the frontlines of deep seated societal discord. In the 1970s, similar scenes of protest and school board acrimony raged over bilingual education, textbook controversies, “new math,” and more. The good news is that we survived. The white-hot flames died down. The bad news is that iterations of some of these same controversies still flare up today, with little change in the opposing arguments. One might look to this previous era for solutions to our current malaise. I’d like to take us a bit further back in time to the 16th century, and St. Ignatius’ introduction of the Spiritual Exercises . In it, Ignatius makes the following claim. “… it should be presupposed that every good Christian ought to be more eager to put a good interpretation on a neighbor’s statement than to condemn it. Further, if one cannot interpret it favorably, one should ask how the other means it. If the meaning is wrong, one should correct the person with love; if this is not enough, one should search out every appropriate means through which, by understanding the statement in a good way, it may be saved.” Adapted from the Spiritual Exercises [22] by Katherine Dyckman, Mary Garvin, and Elizabeth Liebert in The Spiritual Exercises Reclaimed This is referred to as the Ignatian Presupposition. I simply think of it as a form of charity, and the lesson to be learned is quite clear. But what strikes me most is that this was written more than 450 years ago, meaning that similar controversies have been an issue for a VERY long time - begging the question, “Why?” With all of our worldly advancements, why can’t we conquer this societal flaw? The short answer is that we simply don’t want to. As is the case in most areas of our lives, change is hard. This is especially true when a particular way of thinking has become a part of our identity. A similar character flaw exists in business around a concept called sunk cost fallacy where a previous large investment is allowed to substantially influence future decision-making lest the previous investment might be squandered. The idea that the investment will be lost is not accurate. The investment has already been made and cannot be recaptured regardless of what future decisions are ultimately made. This is a hard concept to rectify intellectually and often emotionally, but failure to act with some level of indifference toward a previous investment often prevents organizations from making the correct choices in a dynamic marketplace. Put differently, organizations (and people) are willing to tether their future to the past in part because they don’t want to be proven wrong about previous choices. It’s important to recognize that being indifferent toward closely held memories, decisions, and values doesn’t diminish them. Indeed, it makes them more valuable as you can see them through a much richer lens. You are able to recognize with gratitude how they have helped shape you within the changing context of our world, and to better adapt - dare I say change - to more boldly face tomorrow’s challenges. This isn’t abandonment of the past, but rather an acknowledgement that your full story hasn’t been written yet. This brings me back to the current issues playing out within schools, and in a particular way within Catholic schools which have a deep and necessary rootedness in the Church and in their local communities that cannot be ignored. These schools attract certain kinds of people as teachers and leaders whose desire it is to form young men and women of competence, conscience and compassionate commitment. Parents share that same desire for their children. Alumni and benefactors too. Yet somehow, when confronted with difficult situations, we fail to recognize that we’re on the same team with the same goal. Rather than seeking to “put a good interpretation on a statement (or action)” of a school leader, Board member, teacher, coach, OR parent, we immediately demonize, thus reducing the other to enemy rather than collaborator in mission. Charity and indifference matter. I previously wrote about the need for listening with an open mind, an open heart, and an open will. Even the most polarizing experiences are opportunities for learning, but only if we allow the spirit to move within us, and we are willing to give each other the benefit of the doubt. So give a neighbor a break today. Really. Give a neighbor a break. CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman is the Founder & President of Arrupe Virtual vol 4 issue 3

  • Three Cheers for Burning Hair

    Today there are 125 people counting on me to deliver. Personally. To each of them. What I deliver has the potential to impact them for the rest of their lives. Not all of them all the time, of course, but daily, and sometimes dramatically. Doing well and better by each of these souls occupies my thoughts as I greet the other people who count on me. We call these other people my family. Spouses, partners, children, ageing parents, extended relatives. Friends. I’ll include my dwelling place on the list because it, and its associated costs and maintenance, need me too. You see where this is going. It would surely be easier – at least psychically less stressful – to compartmentalize. Take a bit of a mental rest. Compartmentalizing, though, is not an option. I am a frontline worker. Compartmentalization is not an option for teachers. Teaching is a vocation of relationships that exist and grow in a cycle of love. The first love is for learning itself. This first love evolves into love for a vein of knowledge that academics call disciplines, because that is what is required to get the learning done. Then comes the mature and compelling love for students, within whom the cycle begins anew. Love resists compartmentalization. Instead, it lights a flame within, a flame that has persisted through the oxygen-deprived, labyrinthine tunnel of a global pandemic. A break is long overdue. And yet, what about that doing well and better thing? The commitment to doing well and better, despite a very real and rational need for a break, has drawn together a cohort of colleagues in the AVLI RESET program. The commitment is not small. The seven-month-long program involves ongoing and sustained support for experienced Catholic teachers to leverage existing capacities, while challenging them to center engagement, growth, and wellness in their planning, instruction, assessment and reflection practices. The teachers in the program have agreed to this, all while those 125+ people are counting on them still – every day – to deliver, personally. That is the cycle of love in action. As one of the teachers in the program describes it: “My goal is to make sure that I keep my spirit and my attitude toward my vocation fresh. I wear a lot of hats both within and outside school. I want to maintain a sense of wonder and enthusiasm from which both I and my students can draw life.“ The educational cycle of love is not new. The scaffold of both ancient and modern education is built upon it, from Aristotle to Abelard, from Ignatius to AVLI’s own namesake, Fr. Arrupe. All of them considered deeply being lit from within with a passion for learning and a quest to draw forth learning in others. All of them explored how this cycle of love interacted with the world, and wondered about how they might implement their teaching strategies more effectively. They all considered the power of education in response to the topical arguments of the day, of new social and educational landscapes impacted by local and global factors such as… well, pandemics. They saw teaching as a frontline of defense in a battle for a better future. Teaching as a vocation. Vocare is the Latin origin of vocation. The word means to both draw forth and to draw out. As Jonathan Doyle puts it: “Vocation draws out of you the skills and talents God wants you to use… It also allows you to draw forth the goodness and possibilities inside your students. When you’re tired and disillusioned [you] remember that something bigger is happening.” This is at the heart of Catholic education. Catholic education views the response of education to the world through the ideals of magis – more. More than learning for learning’s sake. Learning as fuel to make the world a better place. Education in a faith-based community means understanding that the cycle of love begins with A Godhead as the One who has lit the original flame. To paraphrase Saint Aquinas: “The teacher does not brighten the student’s intellectual capacity,” – only God can do that - “but helps the student see things they have not seen before.” De Veritate, q.11. And, when a student truly sees something that they have not seen before, their teacher sees in their eyes a flame kindled, hears in their animated voices the electric current of curiosity. For the past month, I have had the privilege of walking with the teachers in the RESET program as they made their way through the first portion of their seven-month journey in the program. Notes from our conversations reflect the flame that burns within them, a flame fueled by love for their students and love of their vocation. In their own words, they express goals for students who will be: “Independently analyzing big ideas and relating them to their community;” “Self functioning;” “Self-propelled learners;” “Fully awake and exchanging joyous words as I enter the classroom;” and “On fire with curiosity.” I hear echoes of Rafe Esquith’s famous story about being so ‘in the zone’ with intent to help one student in a chemistry lab get a flame burning in her alcohol lamp that he did not notice, when the wick lit, that the flame had ignited his hair. As Esquith writes: “…as ridiculous as that was, I actually thought, if I could care so much I didn't even know my hair was on fire, I was moving in the right direction as a teacher — when I realized that you have to ignore all the crap, and the children are the only thing that matter." Having gotten to know these teachers, I can attest that – while their hair may not be on fire – they are definitely lit from within. The teachers in the program, I’m certain, would want you to know that they are not unique among their peers. They are, in point of fact, among the most humble and self-deprecating group of people I’ve ever met. They would likely want you to know that they represent and reflect the goals and ideals of their peers across the spectrum of all educators – faith-based and otherwise. Their academic disciplines span the interdisciplinary nature of a holistic education, and their experience spans the breadth of those who have been in the classroom for 45 years to those whose vocations are less than a decade in the making, and who are braving a new school environment in this shifted post-pandemic landscape. They are teachers who have been given assignments to teach outside their discipline, teachers who still find their discipline riveting after 20 years, teachers who work to light the flame of curiosity across the fields that include: Global Literature, Philosophy, Spanish; the Hebrew Bible, AP Chemistry, British Literature, Health; Ethics; World Religions; AP History; Honors English; and Theology. They are teachers serving extra duty as coach, peer advisor, and Kairos leader. They are teachers eager to be ‘in the zone’ who are daily fulfilling Saint Aquinas’ goal of integrating faith and reason. They view “researching, analyzing, cross-referencing, discussing, integrating, drawing conclusions, and generating ideas with a community of [students] as sacred processes that bring about new life.” The teachers in the RESET program provide a window through which we can see and appreciate the contribution and enormous responsibility that they and their colleagues willingly accept each day in classrooms across the world. It makes me – and I hope you – want to open that window and cheer them on. Grab a pot, stand on the porch, sing an aria, and get the dog barking. And, should your neighbors think you’ve gone nuts, remind them that love cannot be compartmentalized, flames are out there being lit in classrooms across the country, and that there is a teacher out there on the frontline striving to help students see what they have not seen before so that their world – and ours – will be a better place for all. CONTRIBUTOR: Carol Kelly, AVLI Professional Development Lead and Instructor vol 4 issue 4

  • Everyday Advent

    I wasn’t a big reader when I was young. I always thought I was a slow reader and that frustrated me a great deal. Over time I realized that it wasn’t my reading speed or skill that was lacking; it was my patience. Even when I was reading for enjoyment, it felt like a bit of a chore, so you can imagine how I was when it came to textbooks. Thank God for pictures and graphs! The truth is, I still have a hard time reading for more than an hour at a time. I envy those who can fall into a book for an entire afternoon. It’s helpful for me to recall this from time to time because it reminds me just how arduous the path to learning is for many, many people. I was a slightly above average student but I could very easily have been the opposite. When considering the skills AVLI works to develop in students today , I was middling at best. My success was a product of my circumstance. I was blessed with a stable, loving home, reliable role models, and - though never explicitly stated - an expectation that college was the natural “next step” after high school. My family certainly wasn't rich, but my dad always had a job and I don’t ever remember worrying about the basics of food and shelter. I had friends, was involved in numerous activities and sports, and, from the age of 16, I always had a job. In short, the terrain of my life’s path was pretty flat; all I needed to do was follow along. The path for most teens is much more formidable. Negotiating divorced parents or an acrimonious family life. Managing caretaker responsibilities to support an exhausted single parent. Witnessing addiction. Poverty. Loneliness. Bullying. Abuse. How would I have fared in such circumstances? Common amongst all teens is an inability to grasp just how long life often is. What I was graced with in my teen years were circumstances that enabled me to anticipate good things. Tomorrow would come, and I assumed it would be filled with possibilities. Thus, where I lacked patience, I still had hope. This enabled me to persevere. In this way, Advent was part of my daily reality. Advent is the season of waiting. It points us toward Christ and fosters a spirit of anticipation. But what exactly is it we’re waiting for? This reflection [the ideas of which are attributed to Cardinal Dolan] resonates with me, “We’re waiting for Jesus to answer our prayers. We wait for his grace and mercy upon us. We wait for clarity in our lives. We wait for resolution to our problems. We wait for answers to the particular prayers…answers to why our relationships go through struggles…why our loved ones get cancer…why we struggle sustaining our prayers and our faith…why our hopes and dreams still wait to be fulfilled.” I find this idea of Advent appealing - particularly for young people - because it lacks aspiration, focusing instead on the realities of our present day. Sometimes the concept of salvation can seem out of reach, but finding hope in tomorrow is often enough to sustain us. Christ is with us and we persevere until a time when we might be able to look up and see a horizon further ahead. That’s when the idea of salvation makes sense. This is the blessing of Catholic high schools where educating for a hope-filled future is central to our mission. Here we accompany each young person through the ups and downs of daily life. Our faith dimension provides a glimpse of the horizon, while our love, care and compassion provides many students a second place to call home. Under such circumstances, it’s Advent everyday. Students can anticipate good things ahead, and, thus, better respond to the challenges of learning and life. For those involved in Catholic education, we must never forget this awesome privilege. These are difficult times to be in education. Thankless might be the best way to describe some of our current day situations. So many young people are struggling to regain their footing, and progress can seem fleeting. My hope is that this Advent Season graces you with a spirit of anticipation, knowing that your days of patient waiting will be rewarded. For those parents who entrust Catholic high schools with your children, I hope for similar graces for you. Seattle Prep teacher Deana Duke McNeill recently wrote, “I think one of the hardest things about parenting is acknowledging that we really have little control over who our children become. Our greatest task is to love them into themselves - not what we want them to be or think they should be.” The difficulty of letting go is likely part of the reason you chose a Catholic school because, during this time of transition, you want all the support you can get in keeping your child pointed in the right direction. Still, the imperfect circumstances of the past few years may have you wondering if you’ve done enough. May the family time you spend this Advent Season provide consolation and confirmation that your efforts to love, protect, and gently guide are making a difference in the life of your child. It may, however, take a bit more patience. Christmas blessings to all. CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman is the Founder & President of Arrupe Virtual vol 4 issue 5

  • The Sophomore Situation

    As most of you know, Arrupe Virtual exists to support our member Catholic schools in their quest to provide the best possible educational experience for their students. It is from this context that we write the following regarding a particular curiosity we are witnessing this school year relating to the sophomores (Class of 2024) we have encountered in our courses. One unique benefit of the online environment in which we operate is that, unlike the traditional brick and mortar school, many of the activities in which students engage produce data. Each week, we share some of these metrics with our member schools and parents to build a web of support around our students. For the past few years, AVLI has been archiving that weekly data in anticipation of using this information to better serve our schools and students, and this past summer, we felt as though we had enough data to begin to look for trends. Trying to draw conclusions during a period as unsettled as COVID is not ideal. Norms aren't really norms. However, what has been revealed, we believe, is that there is something noteworthy occurring with this year's sophomore class. When we first began noticing this in the fall, we reached out to a number of our member schools who expressed similar sentiments. We share the following not to raise alarm but to raise awareness. The better we understand, the better equipped we are to help. We provide here a particular narrative based on our observations, but this is certainly not a complete picture of what is happening with all sophomores or within all schools. In our AVLI fall courses: REGARDING GRADES , sophomores’ average grade was 67.8% and the median grade was 78.6% compared to a previous two-years average of 90.0% and median grade of 93.2% for sophomores. These two measures together indicate that sophomores are not doing as well overall, but also that the gap between those doing well and those doing poorly has increased significantly. The average and median scores for juniors and seniors remained relatively constant, straddling the 90% mark. REGARDING ENROLLMENTS AND STUDENT DROPS , the previous 2 years, sophomores represented 10% of students and just 3% of drops. In the fall term, sophomores represented 14% of students but accounted for 21% of drops. REGARDING ENGAGEMENT As part of our pre-course tutorial, students are instructed to complete a short learner skills inventory (LSI) to help focus attention on student metacognition. While strongly encouraged, this is not compulsory, and consistently between 40% and 45% of students do not complete the LSI. This fall, however, 67% of sophomores chose not to complete it, suggesting that they are either less inclined or able to process written instructions, or they are simply choosing not to bother. Regarding coursework, the average number of weekly minutes sophomore students spent on their course site decreased by almost 34% compared to the previous two years. And where sophomores used to spend 19% more time than their junior and senior counterparts, they are now spending, on average, almost 21% less time. In short, while it is well documented that all students have been negotiating unique challenges during the pandemic, students from the Class of 2024 seem to be experiencing struggles unique to their cohort. We know that the transition from grade school to high school is a big step. Rigor, expectations, and accountability all increase. A hallmark of our Catholic schools is the care they provide students during these initial months. One factor that may have contributed to the difficulties being experienced by the Class of 2024 is that in spite of the best efforts of schools, many of the current sophomores were not afforded the full depth of programming and support normally provided students during the introductory months of high school. The pandemic simply did not allow it. This and other factors may be contributing to some notable variations in LSI data* among these students as well. As the following graphs indicate, the sophomores completing our self-assessment this past fall scored lower on all skill categories than the sophomores in previous years. So where do we go from here? Believe it or not, there is good news. First, we know from our conversations with our partner schools that they are keenly aware of the struggles that students are facing, and they are working tirelessly every day to walk with each and every student along their imperfect path. While caring goes a long way, it’s simply not enough in this circumstance. What’s needed is strategy. Once again, our schools are up to the task. We know of many who are combing their own school data to develop new, coordinated approaches and programs. This includes specific strategies focusing on the Class of 2024. In sharing our data and observations, we hope to contribute to an overall improved understanding of the situation and to provide, alongside our many partners, a platform for strategic discussions between schools. The last bit of good news is that we have time. As it relates to the Class of 2024, we collectively recognize the need within many of our schools to act. Though we’d obviously prefer that these challenges not exist, in many ways this is the ideal moment to help these students. Like a ship on a four year journey, we’ve sailed long enough to recognize the state of our current course. By making subtle corrections now, the final destination of these students can be substantially different. For what it’s worth, we’re betting on the captains and crews of our schools to expertly navigate these treacherous waters. And as always, we’ll be here to help. * The self-assessment inventory we have developed for the Learner Skills Initiative borrows many questions from other research-based open-source inventories. Our inventory is not meant to be diagnostic. Rather, it introduces students to the learner skills and provides general markers (low/middle/high) as to their current skill development. CONTRIBUTORS: Jeff Hausman, President, and Gabrielle Martin, Chief Academic Officer vol 4 issue 6

  • Here I Am

    Air travel. Those two words often conjure visceral sentiments - fear, excitement, anticipation, dread, impatience, anger, adventure. Whatever your feelings are toward air travel, one thing seems fairly certain; we used to do it better. Within the last few weeks alone, there have been news stories of an international flight returning to its port of origin because of an unruly first-class passenger, a second flight was diverted to an alternate airport due to threats made toward crew members, and most recently a third flight was diverted and a passenger subdued when he attempted to storm the cockpit and open the door of the plane while in flight. In many ways, air travel is a mini-drama running parallel to the larger saga unfolding in our daily lives. It forces us to encounter others in a fairly intimate way for extended periods of time, sitting inches away from perfect strangers while negotiating for elbow room and luggage space. People used to use air travel as an opportunity to practice their skills of diplomacy, compromise, civility, and politeness. Much of that is gone. Somehow, we’ve forgotten how to behave. We’re out of practice. A similar thing appears to be happening in schools. My colleague Gabrielle Martin and I recently posted some concerning findings regarding the engagement of early high school students enrolled in our AVLI courses. Since that posting, we’ve been able to further unpack this with our member schools, discussing common concerns and sharing strategies. What struck me most was the degree to which schools expressed concern about behavioral issues among their students, particularly those in the lower high school grades. It’s not that our schools are filled with “bad apples” or even that they are witnessing good kids making poor choices. Instead, it’s more like some of these youngsters don’t know how to act. Whether it be in classrooms or hallways, during free periods, extracurricular activities, dances, or sports practices, a good number of students appear to be struggling with socialization. While learning loss is a major issue, the hit to social skill development among young people may be the greater casualty of COVID. We all recognize that COVID has led to greater isolation. Collectively, we aren’t as practiced at socialization simply because we’ve lacked the opportunity. For us adults, that means we’re rusty. For kids, though, it’s completely different. Like the old analogy of riding a bike, adults can get on and quickly get back up to speed. Some kids, however, have never been on the “socialization bike”, while most others are still using training wheels. Thus, without the practice of these past two years, they lack the fundamental capacity to thrive in what would once be considered fairly routine social circumstances. Not knowing how to behave tends to make people feel adrift, like they’re lost and don’t belong. Being that place and providing that space for students to be found is what makes Catholic high schools so special. It’s at the heart of our collective mission. No matter the circumstances, Catholic schools continue to call out, waiting for the moment when a student says, “Here I am.” So it didn’t go unnoticed to me that one of the common frustrations expressed in our recent conversations with our schools was the number of students who didn’t seem to “buy in”. Hearing this lament from numerous people was particularly disheartening knowing how hard school leaders and teachers have worked to maintain the character and ethos of their respective schools, and to ensure that each student was supported to the greatest extent possible throughout these imperfect times. It was at this point that one of the people involved in our conversations proposed a correlation between students’ tenuous buy in and the necessary suspension of her school’s traditional retreats and service programs. For me, this seems to be a compelling piece to a largely incomplete puzzle. The past few years, schools did yeoman's work to reinforce mission and identity, and to welcome students in. What was lacking was the capacity to provide the meaningful, life-altering experiences that have long animated Catholic schools’ mission. Thus, early on students likely felt the care and concern of their new Catholic high school and were fully prepared to buy in. But without the opportunity to actively engage, students’ “here I am” was never followed by the more important words, “Send me.” Without a way to extend the care and concern outward, they became the object of that care but never the subject. Ambivalence is an understandable outcome. Lacking socialization skills, and student ambivalence. If this were baseball, we’d be down in the count 0-2, and things would be looking pretty bleak. But the “at bat” isn’t over yet. Both of these issues have a common origin, a reflexive focus on self. This doesn’t mean these youngsters are selfish. Rather, life’s circumstances have consistently tilted their gaze inward while limiting their exposure to those beyond an established sphere of family and friends. The good news is that with COVID diminishing, the inertia of these issues is bumping up against the very core of our Catholic schools whose other-centered mission is to form young women and men of competence, conscience, and compassion. Students are benefiting from a balance of new and renewed programs and opportunities the purpose of which are to help students find their place in the world. And slowly, these experiences will begin influencing students’ inward movements. This is the gift of Catholic schools and why I believe they are among the best positioned to help young people thrive. You can count on Catholic schools to stay the course. Students, parents, and benefactors, I encourage you to do the same. You won’t regret it. A quick plug: I don't do this often, but with Lent around the corner, I'd like to mention my friend Kent Hickey's book 40 Days with God: Time Out to Journey Through the Bible . (Also available on Audible.) Kent is the former President of Seattle Prep and all proceeds go to the school's learning resource center. CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman, AVLI President vol 4 issue 7

  • Be a Doer

    Recently, AVLI began working on a new foreign language initiative . As new things go, it has taken a great deal of effort to make what feels like a tiny bit of progress. This seems perfectly understandable. After all, Newton’s 1st Law of Motion suggests that a body at rest tends to stay at rest, and where friction exists the initial force necessary for movement needs to be substantial. The only problem with referencing Newton’s Law, however, is that we aren’t talking about a physical body here, but an idea. Why are ideas so hard to move forward? A few weeks back, I encountered a Bible verse from the Book of James that I don’t recall hearing before (though likely have and ignored). Everyone should be quick to hear, slow to speak…humbly welcome the word that has been planted in you…Be doers of the word and not hearers only, deluding yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks at his own face in a mirror. He sees himself, then goes off and promptly forgets what he looked like. But the one who peers into the perfect law of freedom and perseveres, and is not a hearer who forgets but a doer who acts; such a one shall be blessed in what he does. James 1:19-27 Wow. There’s a lot in there to unpack. Let’s start with “peers into the perfect law of freedom” - a wonderfully beautiful expression. In short, the perfect law of freedom is about our redemption. Through his suffering and death, Jesus frees us, allowing us to pursue our imperfect paths to eternal life. Thus, while laws normally restrict what we can do, this law requires that we expand . Our freedom obligates us to be more and to do more. “Peering into” the perfect law of freedom suggests not only that we recognize that we are free, but more importantly that we want to understand that freedom more deeply so as to pursue it with intention. This is where we find purpose and hope. It is the spiritual practice of contemplation. Contemplation is what allows us to “humbly welcome the word that has been planted” and it is an important first step on the road to freedom, serving as a compass. Contemplation without action, though, makes us the “man who looks at his own face in a mirror.” In that moment, he knows himself in relation to the world around him. Ideas form. He may even utter words like “I ought to” or “I wish I” before promptly walking away from the mirror; the moment lost. This is me all too often. The hurdle is doing. Last evening, our AVLI teachers were meeting to discuss ways in which we can care for our students. As our previous two CrossCurrents posts ( here and here ) discuss, many students are struggling not only with learning loss, but with a variety of important skills including motivation and time management. One teacher shared insights from this video (15 minutes) that shed important light. Common thought suggests that motivation leads to action. In practice, though, it is often reversed. A person performs an action which produces a reward which serves to motivate the person to perform another action. In addition, while external rewards such as money and recognition can sustain motivation for a period, intrinsic rewards foster perseverance. For the past two years we have been essentially homebound. “Doing” has been difficult, and while certain aspects of this “slowing down” have been positive, we are seeing the effects of disrupted reward systems and our inability to act on many of the things we value most. The action - reward - motivation - action cycle has been replaced with a cycle of empty activity (tv, video games, social media) - transactional reward-indifference - empty activity . No wonder adults are quitting their jobs in record numbers and teens are having difficulty reengaging in school. Once again, this leads me to express how important it is for our Catholic high schools to stay the course. It also takes me back to two critical words from the Bible verse above - “and perseveres.” This represents the acting that goes with the hearing . During this time, it has been difficult for young people to extricate themselves from their motivational malaise, particularly when the traditional external rewards secular society dangles seem so imperative and yet so empty. In words and deeds, our Catholic schools call students to something more. It’s not that the pressures to go to the best college, to make the most money, and to be the most popular don’t exist in Catholic schools, it’s that there are counterweights focusing on intrinsic matters of the heart. Retreats, service experiences, and every-day classroom conversations foster a contemplative spirit, and provide young people the opportunity to move beyond hearing and into action. Is it counter-cultural? At times. Is it out of step? That depends on the path on which you are walking. Peering into the perfect law of freedom can be daunting. It’s important that we persevere because hearing isn’t enough. Whether you’re an organization discerning a new language learning idea, a recent empty nester thinking of a way to get more involved in your community, or a timid teen considering whether to involve yourself in your school’s musical, study the options, listen with your heart, then act. Even if that action involves continuing down the current path, start walking with intention and embrace the journey. After all, Jesus didn’t say, “Blessed are the peace-contemplators.” Sometimes we need to be makers. CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman, AVLI President vol 4 issue 8

  • Convenience, Spheres, and the Problem With Movements - Part 1

    I need to roll away the stone. Allow me to explain. My new kitchen countertops were installed this week, and I’m a little embarrassed about it. For anyone who has done a kitchen remodel lately, you know that the process of selecting, measuring, procuring, custom crafting, and installing a countertop can be onerous. So I was really pleased with my first encounter with the company doing our work who not only scheduled a timely visit for measuring, but also set a date for installation at the same time. Problems arose, however, when a third party involved in the order failed to mention to the company that we needed a single-well sink rather than a standard double. Thus, the drawings were slightly delayed, and by the time everything was approved the product we had selected was on backorder. That call came on a Monday morning and, though I didn’t berate or belittle the representative, my displeasure certainly came through. The call couldn’t have lasted longer than 30 seconds but when I got off the phone, I realized that throughout the encounter my goal was to make her feel bad about something which she and the company had no control over; the product simply wasn’t available. I’m sure she wasn’t looking forward to making that call, and I didn’t help matters. Instead, my passive-aggressive behavior set the tone for her work week by taking a small chip out of her humanity. I exacted a cost. Fortunately, I got the opportunity to apologize when she called the following week to reschedule the installation, but that got me thinking of all the other insignificant events that I allow to enter into my consciousness and stew. A “next-day” delivery that takes two days. Standing in a line of more than four at a checkout counter. Being placed on hold when calling customer service. Traffic. I have become so accustomed to modern conveniences, I am actually annoyed by inconvenience. And I don’t think I’m alone. While there have been numerous groundbreaking scientific achievements over the past quarter century that will benefit mankind immensely, many of the technological advancements influencing society most greatly center around one thing - convenience. In many instances, we’ve over-engineered things to the point of making our actions and activities nearly meaningless. How many regrettable late-night purchases would be foiled if we had to take the time to fill in our delivery address and credit card information rather than simply pressing “Buy Now”? Do we really need shelf-scanning refrigerators that alert us when we are low on milk? Do cars really need to store driver profiles to automatically adjust seat positions based on who’s behind the wheel? We’ve reduced the cost of most transactions - human and other - to a point just north of zero. Our goal each day is weightlessness: to experience the least physical, cognitive, and emotional friction possible so when our heads hit the pillow at night we feel like a feather being added to down. The problem is, despite our best efforts, weightlessness isn't ever really possible. The realities of the world weigh us down with conflict, uncertainty, and regret. Most of us want to do what’s right, but the issues we face within our sphere of influence are complex. Add to that the myriad of larger social issues, and things seem overwhelming. How do we resolve and/or reconcile things conveniently so our sleep is restful? Enter the balms of social media and 24-hour news - the penultimate convenience breakthroughs. Here we are able to quickly and effectively survey the latest events, associate accordingly, and feel empowered by liking/sharing/retweeting. Sometimes, we might text a four-digit number to donate $10 to an urgent cause. Other times we might choose to “make our voices heard” by adding our name to an online petition. Once we’ve done these civic duties, weightlessness returns. It is time for bed. On its face, there is nothing wrong with the above scenario. In fact, in many ways, we are adapting to current times the same way humankind has always adapted. Toward efficiency. Toward things that make us feel safe and in control. Recently, though, I think we may have crossed a threshold that needs to be recognized. It is now perfectly possible to be a “good person” while leading a life devoid of human intimacy. And many of us are ok with that. This thought struck me during the Easter homily. The priest was recounting the scene of Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb, establishing a beautiful image of the stone having been rolled away to allow light to enter. Then the priest reflected on how he often prefers to remain sealed shut, the stone firmly in place, safe and secure. I recognized the same in myself. Rolling the stone away leaves us vulnerable. Others can peer inside, and perhaps even enter. They can judge and even reject. Still, moving the stone is the only way for light to penetrate, and without light we cannot see and understand. We cannot find comfort in a familiar view, be awed by beauty, or experience warmth from a shared smile. Rolling the stone away illuminates our purpose, showing the way. Joy is found in the light. The problem is that we cannot remain weightless and expect to move the stone. This is the incongruence of our modern life and one of the reasons, I believe, that so many people are suffering, depressed, and anxious. This is normally the point in my CrossCurrents posts where I attempt to tie everything together and establish a connection to Catholic schools. But, alas, the treatment needed to do so requires substantially more space and I fear I have already exceeded the limits of your generosity and attention. Thus, I hope you will entertain Part 2 of this post which I will send next week. The primary topic will be on one of the great gifts of Catholic Social Teaching, the principle of subsidiarity . CONTRIBUTOR: Jeff Hausman, AVLI President vol 4 issue 9

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