Magical Rabbits and Radical Meetings: A Mansion Market with a Difference
My daughter, now aged 3, is slowly learning to sleep through the night. Her mother (me), now aged 45, has yet to learn this skill. Last night was particularly hopeless. I had just come back from facilitating an Open Space meeting at my son’s Steiner school. I lay awake, whilst my children slept through, with all the things that happened, and all the things that could have happened, and the things I might have said, thrumming through me. I went on Woman’s Hour last summer, and similarly came off air brim full of all the things I hadn’t managed to say to 3.5 million listeners. I dealt with that by writing a blog (you can read it here) so I am going to do the same now – you never know, it might help me sleep through the night later. Here goes….
For me, one of the real stars of the meeting last night was a seven year old girl. She was the single representative, in a room of over sixty adults, of the people for whom the whole enterprise is organised, the people at the centre of everything: our children. Earlier that day, at pick-up time, her mother had asked me, with some anxiety, whether it would be okay for her to bring her daughter to the meeting. The mother really wanted to come but her husband was away so it was the only way she would be able to make it. She was worried people might disapprove. I said she should come. I said her daughter could sit in a cosy corner – it would be fine. The meeting had been advertised as being open to pre-school aged children but not older ones. There was a fear that the children would be at best a distraction and at worst would overhear discussions that it would not be appropriate for them to take on board. However, to the surprise of the mother and the 7 year old girl herself, she did not ‘sit in a cosy corner’ but stayed the entire 3 hours of the meeting and participated fully, even calling her own session: ‘I want some animals in this school, like rabbits or guinea pigs’ – it was a great session. Lots of people came. The girl will submit notes and pictures from the meeting which will form part of a big report we will be co-creating as a result of Opening Space at the school. People worry that actions – tangible outcomes - don’t emerge out of such meetings. I reckon a rabbit or a guinea pig would be a wonderfully tangible outcome – a warm, soft and cuddly one and at the same time an irrefutably hard fact. Today I am feeling exhausted but optimistic: real change is possible - I look forward to stroking the school’s new pet rabbit.
In the closing circle, another participant, equally touched and impressed by the 7 year old girl’s contribution to the evening, said she thought it would be wonderful to welcome the children to more Open Space meetings, to engage them and gather in their many thoughts and ideas on how to make their school the best that it can be – it’s there for them after all. One of the things I wish I had said last night, one of the things that kept me awake, is in reply to this. Open Space Technology (OST), to give it its full rather grand sounding name, has already been used, to great effect, with school children. One of the brilliant things about running an OST meeting for children is that they get it – they understand the form more easily and more quickly than most adults. The one ‘law’ on which Open Space runs is the ‘law of two feet’ or ‘law of mobility’ which states that “You don’t stay where you don’t want to be. You follow yourself, go where you wish, where you will have the best time and only you know where this is.” Children are experts in using this law – it’s innate to them. Why on earth would you do anything else? Unfortunately, most adults think not-following-yourself is a compulsory component of life. They have been trained - probably in large part through their own school experience – that most of the time you have to stay stuck in meetings, work places, activities that are not where you want to be at all. It is why I find it particularly thrilling to think of an Open Space meeting that includes children – because they can teach us how to do it. I remember hearing a story about a day long OST meeting held in one school in the States for over 1000 children, aged 6 to 16. In one corner of the huge room in which the meeting was held were children discussing how to handle bullying and disputes, in another were others sharing different skipping techniques, in another an intense conversation about marbles, in another one about under confidence and how to get over it.
So, I didn’t say it last night, but yes, we could invite and include the children. We really could. Which brings me on to my bigger vision, which kept me awake through the early hours. Opening Space is a practice. We need to do it again. And again. And again. And then, as if by magic, wonderful things start to happen – rabbits appear, for example. Our overall theme and title for last night’s meeting was this: “Our Chance to Help Change the Story of the School.” Through the sessions people called they were beginning to name how they would like to see the story unfold from here. I would like to share with you one vision I have, one version of the story I would love to see emerging, in which Open Space could become part of the fabric of the school’s life.
OST came about because 30 years ago a man called Harrison Owen spent a year organising a big conference – panels, talks etc – and afterwards everyone said, “That was great, but the really good part, the part where the really juicy, creative stuff happened, was in the coffee break” –in other words in the part that he had done nothing to organise, except to provide the coffee. Harrison wanted to find a way to have a meeting that had the energy of a good coffee break: Open Space was born. In this format the agenda wall – which is blank at the start of the meeting – is often referred to as ‘the village market place.’ It makes me think of the ‘Mansion Markets’ which are held once a month at my son’s school. There are lots of stalls. There is cake. Children and adults alike can have a good time and come away with wonderful goods. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could hold full school meetings with the atmosphere of a great marketplace? If instead of people complaining, “I don’t want to go to yet another meeting. I don’t want the school and its business to take up precious hours of my evening or weekend. I give enough time/ money/ energy already! etc etc.” What if people went to the meetings because it was a joyful way to choose to spend some of their time off, with their whole family? What if people came away richer not poorer, energised not drained? What if people went because it was fun, the place to be – a funky centre of creativity to hang out on a Saturday, a place to get the things done you keep wanting to do but not managing? Everything from the felting for the next Advent Fair, to a key conversation about teacher welfare, to a chance to practice doing handstands on the grass, to a fund-raising group to work on re-opening the school pool (a personal mission of mine). It may sound outlandish, utopian, far-fetched but it’s good to dream, essential even, and also, sometimes, things happen…. So that’s how I’d like the story to go from here. That’s the magic rabbit I’d like to come out of the hat of these meetings.
And guess what? We could make it happen this Saturday?! Because that’s the other thing that I wish I’d said last night, the other thing that kept me awake: I forgot to tell people that we are doing it again – in two days time!!! On Saturday 15thJune from 10am to 1pm. If you came before, come again – it will be totally different, new people, a new day, a new agenda co-created. If you missed last night, and you are a part of the school community, in whatever role, come to this one. Teachers, maintenance staff, parents, trustees, caterers – all are welcome. Come to the mansion. Come to a mansion marketplace with a difference - no money will change hands but many ideas might. And there could be cake. Biscuits for certain. Come for an hour, come for all three. And, if you wish, bring your children. I will be bringing mine. I will also bring toys but they might not need them, because guess what? The meeting might be fun. Rabbits might appear at school. I might sleep tonight. Surprising things can happen and to hope for them is vital.