Lean into your weirdness
That weird kid in school? That was you, too.
Reading time: 3 minutes, 13 seconds
Being a good teacher is like being Professor X from the X-men: give every kid a place they belong and help them to use their unique weirdness to help others.
Have you ever felt that combination of slight dread, curiosity, and wonder for that moment when your son or daughter brings home a new playmate from school for the first time, and you have no idea how weird they’re gonna be?
Yeah, me neither... (Between you and me, I do, but don’t let the parents of my kids’ playmates know, please 😉).
For those of you who don’t have (school-aged) children, let me relate a few examples:
I’ve had a boy constantly asking me for food, then getting it, but then requesting more as if six sandwiches wasn’t enough in two hours. (Timmy didn’t fall down the well, Timmy was the bottomless well!)
Then there was a kid that opened EVERY cupboard, box, door, and bag. Then took out ALL the stuff in there as if she was searching for the keys to her soul.
One boy voraciously dug up the garden bed like a dog, searching for rodents.
And then there was another boy that actually identified as a rodent (a hamster) for three hours straight…
You get the picture.
Now, most of this can be pretty amusing, and it’s definitely not boring, particularly when I’m trying to guess from which of the kid’s parents the weirdness came. But it’s also important for me to draw a line somewhere, or I’ll become bitter with their behavior. So when I tell a kid something just ain’t gonna happen, they may look at me funny or a bit sad. But to not become resentful toward kids, I find it is necessary to be compassionate and straightforward.
How are my kids weird?
This weirdness in my house is good; I love that my kids have someone that’s different to play with. However, every time my kids bring a playmate who’s especially weird—very lovely, but weird—I have a thought that pops up in my head: “In what way are my own kids weird?” (Because they undoubtedly are.) And, “how do other parents look at the weirdness of my kids?”
So, how are my kids weird? Well, a few ways that are obvious to me: My daughter is very loud, talks all the time and talks over other people all the time as well. Not out of malice or anything, just out of enthusiasm. She also demonstrates that liveliness in that she hugs people out of the blue, even if she doesn’t know them… without asking them. So yeah, that’s a unique way of weird, I guess.
As for my son, the only liquid he drinks is water. And he can get ‘hangry’ quickly when his blood sugar level drops. There’s not much other weirdness I can think of for him. But because he and I are very much alike, I likely have a blind spot for my own weirdness that he inherited.
I hope other parents also have straightforward rules for my kids, so Bran and Daisy learn that it’s okay to be your own kind of weird as long as you don’t cross too many lines. I also hope they learn and accept that everyone is a bit different and weird, so they learn to accept their own weirdness.
How are you weird?
This weirdness is a beautiful thing. It’s what makes each of these kids unique. And each kid has the propensity to act out that weirdness somehow. If they can guide it to something that they can use later in life, all the better.
Helping kids to lean into their weirdness and use their strengths to build confidence in acting out their true selves is basically what a good teacher (and parent) does. Being a good teacher is like being Professor X from the X-men: give every kid a place they belong and help them to use their unique weirdness to help others.
I find that enjoying how these kids do their uniquely weird stuff is like seeing the potential in them. It is hoping for a beautiful future where they can be themselves in the best way possible. Of course, they won’t all become like Steve Jobs, though you can’t question that Steve definitely leaned into his weirdness. As do Elon Musk, Lady Gaga, and Donald Trump for that matter.
So when you, dear grown-up reader, (re)discover this potential in yourself, you may realize it was there all along, in the form of that “the weird kid.” (S)he was just hidden beneath layers of culture, “education,”—no wonder ‘unlearning’ is trending—and “professionalism.”
My challenge to you and myself would be to ask, “what kind of weird are you?” And if you want to take it a step further, like the X-Men: “how could your ‘weirdness’ save the world?”
So, what kind of weird are you? Let me know in the comments if you dare 😘
Thanks for reading!
Sincerely,
Jibran