by Debra Paxton-Buursma with Becca Brasser, Shanna Pargellis, Mark Ponstine, and Gary Warners

This final article explores tensions experienced living with one foot headed toward heaven and the other firmly stuck in earthly educational muck. By sharing professional tensions, we acknowledge our earthly location while simultaneously stepping into the sacred, holy space where Christ enters our humanity to teach and transform. With gratitude for educator stories, we explore the tightrope between necessary structures and dynamic cultural changes, trusting that we are all navigating familiar ground.

Christian Pedagogy in a Changing Culture

Mark Ponstine, principal at The Potter’s House, notes the tension that can arise when educating Christianly bumps into contemporary culture (see also “The Practice of Hospitality: From Cup to Community”):

I have found it increasingly difficult . . . to be hospitable and to meet the growing . . . expectation for school security. . . .  I want [students] to feel that they are welcomed . . . to extend peace. I also have increasing pressures to install security equipment at the front doors, . . . to be ‘buzzed in,’ . . . to swipe a driver’s license to record a visit, . . . to perform drills. . . . To respond to an intruder, . . . we practice locking doors and hiding. I have a deep desire toward loving the stranger yet an increasing pressure to fear some strangers.

We are called to faith-shaped pedagogy within school cultures that are increasingly diverse and complex; we hope stories of tension and transformation will tether us together in Christ.

“The Way”

We found that schools struggled establishing practices and routines that were stable, yet responsive enough to bend with changes impacting school culture. As Jo-Ann Van Reeuwyk and I analyzed conversations with administrators and teachers, we noted that four of the five schools used the phrase “The (insert name of school) Way.” While the “ways” of the schools differed, each school intentionally structured a particular way through well-honed practices that students and teachers learned and followed.

Schools spoke about creating coherence between beliefs, vision, policies, practices, and places that developed strong community identity. However, intentional “ways” also created specific tensions: (1) when new educators (and students) were apprenticed into “the way” through discussions about enacted practices, it took a full year or two to acclimate them to this new “way.” The more structured the practices, the greater the length of apprenticeship and the less teacher-student autonomy; (2) the more a school grew in numbers, diversity, or programs, the more educators struggled with consistent decisions around transmission of “the way”; and (3) while schools focused on community, “the way” offered newcomers (novice or veteran teachers) little cultural capital for voicing their ideas.

Being Neighbors: Changing People, Places, and Practices

Tensions in a school’s “way” related to change and the ability of a school community to respond flexibly to cultural changes. Shanna Pargellis and Becca Brasser write about tensions arising from changing demographics in schools with a core identity and “way” connected to serving the poor.

When a school decides to be intentional about connecting its practices with its philosophy, it means continued dialogue and re-examination of what is owned or changed within a dynamic learning community. Tensions inevitably arise between old ideas and new ones—what is kept and what is released for a better way.

Grappling with Sociocultural Change

One change relates to the sociocultural changes of the geographic area around the school. The demographics . . . have changed since the beginning of the school thirty-five years ago. Hoboken (home of the Mustard Seed School) has become gentrified. We still have the poor in the projects, although they are less visible, for we now see million-dollar condos lining the waterfront. Those from the middle class, struggling to find affordable living near school, often move out to surrounding areas. The identity that once formed a Mustard Seed Way responded positively to an intentional move into a poor neighborhood. Whom do we serve? Who is our neighbor? Can we, from all socioeconomic spheres, be in a learning community together? Does this community gather for social as well as school events? How does the changing neighborhood with new recruitment strategies change ways of being and doing together?

Geographic transformation created identity questions around specific practices originally structured for one particular demographic group. Many of our schools are realizing increased diversity around class, race, ethnicity, and religion; we are faced with new questions that impact how our spaces operate concerning school security or gender. A school’s identity is structured by its practices, policies, and the physical dynamics of place. Changes in enrollment patterns transform a place, affecting identity. While growth in admissions is generally considered positive, transformations disrupt placed-based routines and practices, raising tensions and questions around which practices to keep, which to revise, and which to remove.

Embracing Cultural Transformations

Mustard Seed’s early demographic history was linked to a nomadic school identity as we moved from church basement to church basement. As the whole school could not fit in one space, a lower and an upper school were developed, each with a slightly different culture. When the school came together in one space on one floor, we delighted in the K–8 family community that developed in response to what our neighbors, those with few resources, needed from their education. That space was outgrown and a move was made to a four story building. . . . Can a mid-sized school community function like a small community? What ways are lost or [become irrelevant] and what new ways might need to be introduced?

At Pargellis and Brasser’s school, questions were raised and examined in order to consider how tensions could catalyze intentional transformations.

Expansion . . . has brought us back to some earlier practices,       . . . which we are embracing. It also has led to more team teaching, opportunities for team leaders to develop among the teaching staff, [and] necessitated collaboration. For teachers who are used to being in charge of their own classroom, this is a different way of planning and working. Some relish this and embrace it, others are challenged by the loss of control.

Incorporating Newcomers into “the Way”

Change ripples into practices as well as into communication about and apprenticeship of new staff to those practices. Informal modeling and conversational apprenticeship effective in a small school community stretches educators new to “the way.”

Tensions can also rise with an influx of new staff and students. The culture is carried by the current staff who share the burden of communicating the culture. Culture is more caught than taught, and when one is so intentional it can seem like everything matters. There are more students and staff to know and yet, there is only so much one can know or do. A week’s worth of new teacher orientation seems minimal in light of all the new communal practices teachers will encounter. How to build community with more people continues to be a challenge. . . . New groupings and new relationships make us rework the design of the school and how we teach and learn. And now . . . we are faced with new challenges that have the power to transform us. . . . We want to be strongly rooted and grow in ways that are flexible. ‘Can you be flexible?’ ‘Is this work strong?’ These questions are often used with the students, but they are now questions we need to ask ourselves as well.

Changes in school size or demographics affect place and practices. Changes expose and threaten school culture and how we communicate that culture. Questions become tools for seeking deeper understanding of our work in God’s renewal plan. Brasser and Pargellis raise important questions for their school and perhaps for your school. They recognize that they are now asking themselves the very questions they’ve asked their students. Perhaps the greatest tension—after such intentional work at a distinctive “way”—is accepting that not only are we agents of renewal and transformation, we ourselves are called to be transformed by others, even those we intended to transform. Our conversations with newcomers reminded us to hold intentional practices loosely. While apprenticeship of new staff creates coherence and consistency, we may benefit from creating safe spaces for newcomers to voice their opinions. A person not yet immersed in a school culture may offer an important perspective for refining our practices.

Culturally Responsive “Reforming” Instruction

Sacred spaces emerge through listening for truth in professional work. In this last story, Gary Warners describes how the school’s vision transverses any tension in order to fully welcome diverse students. Warners heard one small student voice, then listened for tensions within the school community as a practice toward hope-filled transformations.

Presented with a Challenge

When I am teaching, . . . I am using the abilities God has given me to serve Him and help my students grow in ways that God intended. . . . When I am in relationship with people who are different from me, I add richness to my life and learn more about my God. . . . My teaching, relationships, and faith are inextricably bound together and shape my perspective of the world. This ‘who-I-am-as-a-Christian-teacher’ came into question one day when one of my students, Elsie, claimed I was not a Christian because I was a racist. Wow! This 12-year-old African-American sixth grader from my own classroom was challenging my own ideas about using my God-given abilities to create a welcoming learning environment for all my students. In processing this claim with her, . . . what she was really saying was, ‘I don’t feel that you really know me, and I don’t feel comfortable being myself at this school.’ What a wonderful learning opportunity for me, the teacher!

Responding to the Challenge

Warners responsively and systematically explored the tension between his well-intentioned actions and one learner’s articulation of her school experience.

I began conducting research related to racism in schools so that students need not call their teachers ‘racist’ to get the message across about feeling left out, under-appreciated, or under-represented. I want schools to be fertile soil for all types of students. Christian schools especially ought to be continually reforming themselves to reflect the cultural groups of their students. Becoming a welcoming space for all learners ought to be a goal for all schools. . . . Culturally responsive education makes room for all cultures. . . . We believe that all children are created in God’s image and have intrinsic worth . . . nuanced through their cultural background. So, how does [our school] become more culturally responsive?

Warners dug more deeply into literature on cultural difference and learned about the insidious nature of structural, institutional, and individual racism. He probed experiences of diversity and inclusion through focus group interviews and surveys, listening to students and staff to unearth the tensions in order to fully embrace the transformations.

The presence of cultural diversity in the student body does not equate with being a culturally responsive school. A school’s responsibility includes making sure minority groups feel they have a significant role in the school social climate and learning experiences. . . . Exploring often leads to more questions. . . . How can [our school] move beyond celebration of cultural diversity into being more culturally responsive to all students and their families? How culturally responsive are our school-wide policies? How can students be taught to counteract the negative cultural stereotypes they talked about in their interviews? How can we all internalize what it means to be a Christian community so that those values impact our daily interactions with each other?

As a result of Warner’s research, he and his administrator, Ashanti Bryant, have been working toward changes in school practices and conducting professional development and presentations on “Eracism.”

Every Knee Shall Bow

Sacred Space Pedagogy celebrates practices, asks tough questions, and listens to tough responses. James Schaap probes the fragile, yet fruitful nexus of earthly reconciliation—God’s divinity in the midst of human frailty (“Every Knee”). Schaap reflects back on his family’s participation in Rehoboth mission work, recognizing the “struggle of well-intentioned, faithful Christians being so wrong” (“Rehoboth” 34). As Christian educators, we head to school each day hoping to create spaces that offer glimpses of God’s kingdom, and yet human history reminds us how imperfectly we come alongside Christ in transformational teaching. Schaap’s reflections recognize that God weaves renewal deeply and gracefully within historical tensions. So, yes, “the message-bringers were flawed, as we are too, looking back from our enlightened vantage point.” (“Rehoboth” 33). Sacred Space Pedagogy trusts that God honors our intentions and blesses the work rising from bent knees. … 

Works Cited

Schaap, James C. “‘Every Knee Shall Bow’: Righteous Acts, Filthy Rags, and a Mission Cemetery.” Books & Culture., Christianity Today, March/April 2009. Print.

—. “Rehoboth: Righteous Acts, Filthy Rags, and a Mission Cemetery.” Books & Culture, Christianity Today, Jan/Feb. 2009, pp. 33–34. Print.