It’s Friday afternoon, the end of the first full week of school, and I’m sitting at a table in the makerspace across from J., who is eleven and dissecting an owl pellet.

Across the room, D. is reassembling a 6x6 Rubix cube. We’re all masked and the windows are open; it’s humid even with the whir of the fans. In other rooms, people are reading or watching videos and the door jingled as a crew just came back from the deli - N. just slid into the room, held up a Poptart like Simba from the Lion King (“AHHHHHHHHH” she sang, one lone member of a heavenly choir), and scrambled back out as I cracked up.

Last week’s feeling of deep contentedness hasn’t faded; if anything, our first full week has been even more affirming that this work is deeply important, deeply meaningful. What a gift it is to be witnessing the curiosity and joy of young people, affirming their choices and supporting their initiatives, being in intentional community together.

This season, I’m trying to facilitate all-school meetings in a way that sets young people up to take over for me by winter break. I’m prepping a D&D campaign that sets up my players to do more fun and complex storytelling than ever before. I’m committed to finding time to write, and to support young people with whatever writing they want to do. I’m practicing moving my body - from exercise club to bouldering in Central Park to jumping into any impromptu dance party that comes my way. I’m reminding young people that when they say “we could do this,” it’s true and also, if they actually want it to get done, they need to practice the doing part. I’m scaffolding the practice of doing for humans who aren’t sure how to get started. I’m expanding my idea of what “documentation” looks like and helping young people identify modes of reflection and sharing that feel good for their present and future selves. I’m encouraging chase games and pillow fights while reminding everyone to ask for consent. I’m making art-making materials available to whoever needs them. I’m offering stretching and vocal warm-ups and crochet and music-reading lessons. I’m learning to weave from a teen’s teaching. I’m making myself less visible so that young people get in the habit of talking to each other before talking to me. I’m practicing reminding young people that the words they use matter, they shape your world, they change what is or is not possible for you.

D. just came over and excitedly high-fived me - he got the central part of the cube together, which is the trickiest part. Two days ago, he was saying “this is impossible” but I challenged him on that phrasing, and we talked about other ways to approach the puzzle instead of continuing to try the method that wasn’t working. With some tape and fresh eyes and a new days’ patience, he got it!

I’m proud of the ways my facilitation practices have gotten me to this place of delightful zen chaos and curiosity. I’m grateful to be in this community, in this space, with these humans. We’re gonna get into that good trouble, together.