The Spirit
of Ma’at Vol 1, No 10
with Joanne Lauck
author of The Voice of the
Infinite in the Small
by Sun Mi Kim
''If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to
preside over the christening of all children I should ask that her gift to each
child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last
throughout life, as an unfailing antidote against the boredom and
disenchantments of later years, the sterile preoccupation with things that are
artificial, the alienation from the sources of our strength.''
- Rachel Carson, A Sense of Wonder
Rachel
Carson, ''the patron saint of the environmental movement,'' said that a child
''needs the companionship of at least one adult who can share [the wonder],
rediscovering with him the joy, excitement and mystery of the world we live
in.'' In the San Jose school system, Joanne Lauck feeds children's spirits with
wonders from nature, particularly the insect world.
Of all
the vast world of Nature's creatures, why a particular focus on insects? If
children (and adults) can look beyond the dense prejudices surrounding insects
and reclaim their natural kinship - a relationship welcome in nearly all indigenous
cultures - then think how much easier a loving relationship with the rest of
the world would be.
Sun:
Can you talk a little bit about your ''Thinking Like a Bug'' program and your
educational work in general?
Joanne:
The course's objective was to encourage a feeling or heart connection to
insects through what English educator Peter Kelly calls ''biological empathy.''
In other words you don't portray insects as people or machines as is often done
- they would resist both transformations. Instead, you focus on trying to see
the world from their vantage point. That takes imagination and empathy,
important ingredients of emotional intelligence.
In the
course, I adapted Joanna Macy and John Seed's Council of All Beings for
children and changed its name to the Council of All Insects. As a culmination
of the course, the children (who composed the Council of All Insects) were
invited to the United Nations for an historic event. Wearing insect masks that
they had made themselves, and pretending that they really were the insects,
they were promised safety if they went.
At this
international conference, the insect's representatives told the humans what
they needed in order to live on the earth - what gifts the insects provided,
and how it felt to be on the receiving end of the current Insect-as-Adversary
mentality.
There
were parents and students from other classes in the audience. It was very
heartwarming to see how the kids really got into their roles. I was the news
reporter and conference facilitator so I interviewed the ''insects'' after the
event was over. They continued their roles, and some were teary as they
expressed their feelings about whether human beings would change their ways.
To
prepare for this event we had class once a week for six weeks. The first couple
of classes were all about breaking down any barriers they may have already
adopted about relating to insects. I was surprised that by 5th grade the
children had begun to divide the world up into good and bad species. Insects
were mostly bad and creepy. They had never met an adult who told them that this
learned response isn't true. To me, bugs are great and I love them.
On the
first day, to begin the process of breaking apart any initial prejudices toward
insects, I asked them if they had ever been picked on by somebody else. They
all raised their hand. I asked them if they had ever been made fun of because
of the way they looked or ran on the playground. Most of them raised their hand
in response to that question as well. So I continued with a few more questions
and then said, ''Well now you know what it must feel like to be a bug in this
world.''
They
really understood that. Then I asked them to try and think like a bug and speak
as though they were a bug - that we already had heard way too much from human
beings, and so it was the bugs' turn to speak. Then I told stories - like the
story of Freddie the Fly and Sarah the Scorpion, both of which I include in my
book. I also told them how other societies had viewed different insects. For
example, when I talked about the fly, I shared slides of flies with them and
showed them an ancient gold fly necklace worn by Egyptian officers because to
them the fly meant bravery and heroic deeds in battle.
Most of
them took readily to the idea of trying to assume an insect's perspective. They
also liked the idea that they might have a special connection to a particular
kind of insect who would be a helper and guide to them if they paid attention
to it and treated it with respect - an idea many cultures hold.
Sun:
Your description of the children wearing insect masks reminds me of how during
sacred rituals many indigenous peoples put on animal skins and headdresses and
actually become the animal they portray. And it is my understanding that
violence is practically unheard of in most indigenous cultures. Apparently,
wearing the masks seems to give empathy with nature. Can you talk a little
about how empathy with animals and insects creates emotional intelligence? How
does this work exactly? And how might the lack of biological empathy relate to
the rise in school violence?
Joanne:
I think the children donning their masks and each of them speaking as though he
or she were an insect was the just culmination of the six weeks. The mask was a
reminder to them and others that they were speaking as insects, as the other
species. It took the entire course and its focus to think like an insect and
imagine being one. This allowed each child a natural organic empathy - hard to
do in a world that ridicules and trivializes insects because of their size and
appearance.
One
year I did a similar version of the class with other animals like 'possums and
earthworms and bats. There was even a large mammal group. Each species has
issues with how humans conduct themselves. Identification with these groups was
an easy and quite natural process for the children.
As to
the low occurrence of violence in cultures with sacred rituals like you
mentioned, I think that when you teach people to identify with others, to
assume others' worldview, there is far less chance that they will act against
them. It seems to me that violence occurs when there is no relating, no
identification. The victim is stripped of any redeeming qualities, so the act
of violence can and does take place.
Sun:
You use a lot of stories from indigenous cultures in your book. Do you find
that helps as a teaching tool?
Joanne:
I use stories from indigenous cultures for a couple of reasons. I think it is
important for people to realize that our mistrust and animosity toward insects
is something we learned. It is not natural. The fact that other cultures feel
differently about these kinds of creatures is important to note. It means we
can change.
I also
turn to indigenous cultures in order to restore a context of kinship through
which we can translate and understand any interactions with insects that might
cause us pain and discomfort.
Sun:
Your book touches on a lot of things that simply exists outside of the normal
curriculum that most schools offer. For instance, the folklore and the mystical
significance of nature in indigenous cultures would not be included in most
schools. How do you think these things fit into the education of an individual?
Does it add in some way to the humanness of an individual in a way that
traditional educational structures cannot?
Joanne:
I can only speak from personal experience, but from what I have seen there is a
lot of lip service given to educating the whole person, even though it's not
done in any systematic or consistent way. If teachers haven't done work on
themselves to bring forth their own wholeness, they won't be able to model that
for their students.
The
rise of school violence can, at the very least, bring attention to the need for
instruction and activities to develop emotional intelligence. That is our door
to bring in other kinds of curricula.
I was
able to bring in a lot of material of my own in the ''Thinking Like A Bug''
class because it was an elective. When I decided to become a high school
teacher, I decided I wanted to teach students about themselves - their
ancestry, or roots; their affinity with nature; their connection to the world
and their capacity for tolerance of what is different from themselves. I
currently teach computer graphics - it's a relatively new subject without a set
curriculum. The administration doesn't control the content as long as students
learn the graphics software, so I can design lessons around themes that I feel
are vital to becoming an authentic and empowered person.
And
outside of public high school I still speak and write more directly on these
same issues. The need for tolerance is central to my message as an
environmental educator. I always say that, after working for the insects,
working with teenagers is easy.
Sun:
Speaking on a global level, there are obvious reasons why it's important to
raise environmental awareness. On the personal level, what kinds of
transformations do you see happening to your students?
Joanne:
I can't help but think many were changed by their experience. Hard to document
that, but one child in particular I know was transformed. His name was Brian,
and he was a pistol. He had obviously seen all the horror movies on insects,
and he resisted identifying with the insects and preferred to entertain the
class with his insect-terrorizing-humans imitations. The parent helpers were
ready to kick him out of the class the first day. Meanwhile, I was still trying
to find a way into his imagination and heart and thereby enlist his participation.
When
that first class ended I asked the children to pay attention during the week to
see what kind of insect was trying to get their attention, and reminded them it
could come in a dream or a waking experience.
The
next week Brian came up to me before we started the class and told me that the
night before he had had a dream that Jason - the psychopathic killer in a
popular horror film - had been after him. Then a human size fly had emerged out
of a wall with some kind of a sword and had gone after Jason for Brian.
I
praised Brian for remembering the dream and said that I thought the fly was his
special insect. He agreed and wanted to make sure he was put in the fly group
when it was time to do mask making.
This is
what is so rewarding about this kind of work. It is simply helping kids
remember their connections. You don't have to create the connection; it is
already there inside them. Your job is to bring it out so they can see it and
feel it.
And as
an after note, Brian became my assistant for the next couple of years. He had
an amazing sensitivity to animals. I just tried to feed his gift during our
time together. His folks were fighting a lot and on the verge of divorce at the
time, so I think his time with me (we'd go out for lunch in preparation for
class) was an anchor for him. He also had a memorable experience with a
Madagascar hissing cockroach I called Cedar. I wrote about that experience in
my book in the chapter called ''Divine Genius,'' which is all about our relationship
with these amazing creatures.
Sun:
Most people view nature as the original primordial ground for competition -
where animals have to attack or be attacked. They generally feel that this
battle with Nature proves that our own basic nature is geared toward
competition, ruthlessness, and fear. How do you respond to that?
Joanne:
Animals eat and are eaten. All life is food for some other creature. We feed
two colonies of mites on our faces - one on our forehead and another species on
our eyelids - as well as thousands of other microorganisms. The new view of how
the world works is very different from the one most of us learned in school.
The new view says that life developed because of networking and community.
Advances were made because people cooperated with each other, helped each
other. They have found this cooperation at the level of microorganisms who
share a common gene pool and join together to become different life forms. This
view is very much aligned with native ideas of creation and how the
foundational pieces for life on earth were put into place.
Sun:
Are there other ways that children and teachers alike can find a connection
with nature?
Joanne:
I think being out in nature is essential - and being out there in a heart-full
way is critical for teaching children to have respect for others' lives.
Allowing children to disturb other animals under the guise of satisfying their
curiosity seems to teach them that their own wants have a priority over the
wants of other beings. I think we do everyone a disservice when we allow this.
In the ''Thinking Like a Bug'' class, we went on ''Bug Hunts'' without
disturbing any insects. The children were not allowed to use anything but their
eyes, and then they were to name the insect based on its coloring or the shape
of its wings. We had some wonderful names like Cloudy Wing and Polka Dot. The
naming was tied into the seeing. The children didn't have to memorize and learn
species in order to connect to what they experienced.
I also
started a butterfly garden on the school property. It was a haven for all
creatures. The kids would rescue insects, worms, snails, and the like, and
place them in the butterfly garden. I remember pulling up to the garden, and
different kids would be respectfully hanging over the fence looking at some
creature or another. I like to think it taught them that you could create
places of safety in the world.
Those
lessons, of course, were sometimes ''untaught'' by unconscious behavior on the
part of adults. A case in point was one Family Fun Night. A few parents who had
learned to hate snails had gathered them up from the flowerbeds around the
school, then encouraged the children to use them as paint brushes. They showed
the children how to dip these living creatures into paint and then rub them on
the paper. It was really upsetting. The children told me about it, and some of
the teachers who knew what I was trying to teach just looked sheepish.
Unfortunately,
that is not an isolated case. We often celebrate our hostility toward living
creatures with annual events like one ''Bug Hunt'' at an archery club in
Northern California where they use cut-out copies of insects and other small
creatures for target practice. Universities also put on events forcing certain
creatures - ones our culture has condemned and labeled as pests - to race each
other. Illustrious places like the San Francisco Exploritorium host flea
circuses where fleas are abused. The audience doesn't recognize what they see
as abuse because they are disconnected from fleas and think fleas deserve to be
mistreated.
Biological
empathy is important because it combines seeing and feeling. You learn for
example what another species needs to live its life. Earthworms need earth and
darkness, so you don't pick them up and put them on a piece of paper in the
light or in a plastic home filled with grass. Caterpillars usually eat one kind
of food, so you don't raise them unless you can provide that food. One mother
told me her child found a caterpillar and she placed it in their garden window
with some lettuce. Obviously, it died. Her actions lacked an understanding of
the creature's biological needs.
The
empathy part is just leading with your heart. What would you want if you were
this creature? Together, you and the creature have the ingredients for a
respectful relationship. But without the respect, we will impose our will on
others as we have so far done. Without this feeling aspect we will allow other
creatures to become extinct, not understanding that we are losing a part of
ourselves. Without some biological knowledge about the creature we will not
know how to save its habitat or care for it if it needs our help.
Do you
still believe that the insect world is impervious to our attitudes? to who we
are? This story from Joanne Lauck's The Voice of the Infinite in the Small may
change your mind!
A
Lesson from a Cockroach
In one
of my classes on Thinking Like a Bug [we had a presentation that included] a
Giant Madagascar Hissing cockroach. ... [M]y class clown Brian asked with one
eye toward me, ''If I step on it, will its shell crack?'' The class laughed,
giving Brian the response he wanted. ...
After
the presentation, I decided to take the cockroach, called Cedar because of his
coloring, around the room. ... Most of the children wanted to pick Cedar up,
but I suggested that we could best demonstrate our respect for him by letting
him choose to be held or not. I asked them to hold their hand palm up next to
mine. Cedar, at ease in the palm of my hand, might choose to walk over to their
hand, or not. They liked that idea and lined up for a turn.
Brian
was first in line. I told him since he couched his question about the strength
of Cedar's shell in an aggressive manner, Cedar might not go on his hand. ... I
could tell that Brian didn't really believe that the cockroach might have been
aware of his attitude. ...
Brian
held his hand, palm out, next to mine. Cedar crawled to the edge of my open
palm until his antennae briefly touched Brian's hand. Then Cedar withdrew and
turned around, walking away. Brian was disappointed and suddenly not so sure he
had been right. He stayed and watched as child after child came up and put his
or her hand next to mine. The cockroach moved slowly, without hesitation, onto
each child's hand, exploring.
After a
short while, Brian was back in line, asking for another chance. I agreed and
again he put his hand next to mine. Again, Cedar moved to the edge of my hand,
antennae moving. When he reached Brian's hand, he stopped and turned around,
moving away. Brian was visibly upset now. I suggested that he make his peace
with the insect by sending him his sincere apology and desire for connection.
More
children lined up for a chance to have the cockroach on their hand. Each time,
he obliged. Then one little girl approached, exclaiming: ''Ooh! He's ugly, he's
ugly!'' Nothing I said got through to her or stopped her from reciting this
shrill chant of distaste. But despite her words, she held her hand next to
mine. Cedar refused to go on it - wouldn't even move toward it. She left
without absorbing the fact that the cockroach acted as though he knew she was
insulting him, for the insect crawled without hesitation onto the hand of the
next child in line. It was a powerful lesson for all of us.
When
the class period was almost over ... Brian begged for one last chance... He
said he had been really working on his thoughts and was ready. He held his hand
next to mine. Cedar again moved to the edge of my hand and then crawled onto
Brian's hand. Judging from the look of pleasure and triumph on the boy's face,
you would have thought that he had just received a great gift - and he had.
Joanne
Lauck, a writer and certified wildlife rehabilitator, in researching a book on
the healing and transformative potential of the human-animal bond, became
dismayed at the intolerance and hostility toward the insect world that was
being taught under the auspices of education and science. She found this
attitude everywhere - on the Web, in movies, comic books, and even in
textbooks. It was then that she fully realized how pervasively our culture
believed in the Insect-as-Adversary. The myth of our separation from nature had
taken a disturbing foothold in our interactions with these living beings. A
heartfelt need to shift these perceptions in children and adults was born,
resulting in her book The Voice of the Infinite in the Small.
Joanne
started work in children's education in 1991, creating a course called
''Thinking Like a Bug'' for 3rd, 4th and 5th graders, where they learned
compassion and empathy for insects. Two years ago, she began giving courses in
computer graphics to high school students, filling her lesson plans with
subject matter that teaches tolerance and connection to our world and its
history. With her passion, experience, and knowledge of the natural world,
Joanne maintains a unique and specific viewpoint on education - one that is
almost completely lacking in today's curricula at every level.