This is something I wrote awhile ago, but it leads into something I want to write about later. Consider it a preface:
I've been giving my students permission a lot lately... Sometimes I ask, "Why didn't you...?" reach for a weapon, use a preemptive strike, run, call for help...
And the students says, "I didn't know I could." For the longest time, I assumed that meant the student had never considered it or didn't know how... it didn't occur to me that they thought it might be forbidden.
These are things that should never need to be said but still must, because there is power in the words.
You have permission to defend yourself.
You have permission to be rude.
You have permission to survive, no matter what it takes.
You have permission to act when the scary man reaches for his belt. You do not need to wait until he draws the weapon or until he points it at you or until he hurts you.
You have permission to act.
You have permission to beat me, even if I wear a blackbelt.
You have permission to become better than the best instructor you ever had.
You have permission to invent something better than I ever taught you, and permission to use it in my class and permission to use it to defeat me and permission to teach it to your students.
You have blanket permission to grow and live and survive and fight and run and scream and talk and play and learn and experiment.
You have permission to win, and you have permission to decide what winning is.
And Your LIttle Dog, Too ... - Did I mention that the new toilets we are having installed–two in, one more to go–are made by the Japanese/American company Toto? That just gives rise to...
4 hours ago