Cathy Ota

Cyber spirituality: Facebook, Twitter, and the adolescent quest for connection

Two of us have spent time on Facebook recently with adolescent children. Brendan discovered that he would have to create an account with Facebook to view photographs of a local musical in which he ...

Moving against the grain?: investigating the efficacy of a touch-based intervention in a climate of suspicion

This article considers the implications of a small‐scale research project, undertaken by the authors, which used the example of the Massage in Schools Programme (a simple peer massage programme) to ascertain whether the planned use of touch‐based activity can support the growth of social and emotional skills in the primary classroom. Such claims are considered within the context of a modern society that is ill at ease with touch. Data, including observations of children and interviews with children and staff, were collected in two primary school classrooms pre, during and post the introduction of a six‐week massage programme, led by Massage in Schools practitioners. The findings of this project demonstrate that the number of social relationships reported by children did increase post intervention. The article goes on to consider the possible mechanisms by which this was achieved and features of the classroom context that may mediate the impact of the intervention. The authors conclude that a touch‐based intervention such as the Massage in Schools Programme may have a positive and potentially educational value for children and schools and support the growth of social and emotional skills.

Building Bridges and Right Relations: A Study In Fostering Spiritual, Moral and Social Growth Through Groupwork Skills with Young Children

This chapter reports on research with young children conducted as part of a unique 4 year large scale UK project investigating effective groupwork skills across all age ranges. This chapter adds to current debate and academic inquiry in the field of moral and spiritual education, proposing a theoretical understanding of the significance of how the relationship between teacher and pupils is a key factor in enabling children’s religious, moral, cultural, spiritual and social development. Drawing on practitioner discourse analysis the chapter offers research evidence to demonstrate the ability of children to trust, reflect, construct meaning, build relationships and develop social skills with peers. Discussing the enabling of pupil voice the chapter offers an original and innovative approach to understanding the teacher’s role; it impacts on educational policy and practice in identifying how teachers can develop groupwork skills with their class, thereby encouraging a meaningful, enriched, safe classroom climate for pupils.

Spirituality and physicality

The Twelfth International Conference on Children’s Spirituality to be hosted by the University of East Anglia, Norwich, England is planned to occur in July of this year. It seems an opportune time then for this editorial to begin to reflect upon some issues and questions in relation to the theme for this year’s conference, Spirituality and physicality: Crossing thresholds – chosen as it coincides in the Olympic Games to be hosted in London shortly after the conference. Physicality is, and has always been, essential in the conceptualisation and discussion of spirituality. From a religious perspective, the spiritual practice of meditation in both eastern and western traditions involves, in the first instance, the individual focusing on her or his physicality – the rhythm of slowly breathing in and out, becoming aware of one’s body sitting on the floor, the tensing and relaxing of the body’s muscles and the like. This is critical in preparing the ground for the emptying of the mind in eastern traditions (and the filling of the mind in many western practices) in order to achieve, or reach, a state of heightened consciousness, often termed variously as a state of Absolute Unitary Being (Newberg, d’ Aquili, and Rause 2001) and Ultimate Unity (de Souza 2005). However, outside of meditative practices, physicality has often been undervalued in western culture. Physicality – conscious bodily perception – as an ontological way of knowing is a natural predisposition of humankind, although it is one that is largely neglected in western culture, which prefers to favour the domain of rational thinking (Del Prete 2002). The individual is not encouraged to draw upon the wisdom of the body as a natural way of knowing. And yet such physicality is more primal than thoughts and words. It enables one to engage in the immediacy of awareness and experience – a trait which was common to the Mystics of both eastern and western traditions in their spirituality. American psychotherapist Eugene Gendlin (1981) argued that individuals encounter and act upon the world in which they live with the whole of their bodies. He called this focusing, maintaining that it involved attending to the bodily awareness of situations, persons and events. Such bodily awareness is not a mental experience, but a physical one. It doesn’t come from thoughts, words or other separate components, but rather as a single, though sometimes puzzling and complex, bodily feeling. Attending to one’s own body may then assist with personal difficulties and in being sensitively aware in relationships with others. For many people in western culture, sport and physical activity become avenues through which they may draw upon the wisdom of the body as a natural way of knowing, and perhaps, may experience and express something of their spiritualty, although most people would not, of course, express this in these words. In fact, most would be unaware of the fact that spirituality can be encountered and International Journal of Children’s Spirituality Vol. 17, No. 1, February 2012, 1–3

The Secrets of the Playground

Using the approach of qualitative research, the writers set out to examine the contribution that ‘play’ makes to childrens development. Central to this is the role of the play ground: ‘We aim to uncover the significance of the play ground as an environment where children are empowered to participate, create and develop in a unique and fundamental way.’ The play ground is a place where the child is in control and able to develop ideas away from the influence of adults. Using transcripts of conversations with children, the authors reveal the feelings that children have about these special places. They go on to argue that school playgrounds should be designed to respond to childrens need for safe secret places.

The deconstruction and social (re)construction of spirituality

There has been a considerable discussion among members of the Association for Children’s Spirituality in recent times concerning a definition, or description, of spirituality. While the quest for such a description or definition has long been sought, and seems to have proven thus far to be allusive, the pursuit of this goal seems to be gathering momentum and is the planned subject of a forthcoming editorial later this year. Reflecting upon the Association’s fervent discussion, it strikes me that what is in fact occurring is, firstly, an example of deconstruction (since assumptions that have been attached to the word ‘spirituality’ are likely to be exposed) and, secondly, of re-construction through the process of social constructionism (as distinct from constructivism, or social constructivism). It is through these processes that an understanding of the term ‘spirituality’ will be arrived at and, to some extent, agreed upon. That it will be ‘constructed’ does not in any way undermine notions of spirituality as a natural human predisposition, an a priori, if you will, as is argued in much of the literature. Rather, it suggests that the definition, or description, will be the product of a multiplicity of voices from both within and outside of the academy – a construction resulting from the interactions of human beings who, collectively, seek to create and sustain meaning. As a theory of knowledge, constructionism maintains that human beings together create and then sustain all social phenomena through social practice. In their seminal work, The Social Construction of Reality, Berger and Luckman (1966) demonstrate how this occurs through the processes of externalisation, objectivation and internalisation. But more than this, they show how knowledge, once created through social practice, can be experienced by people as pre-given and fixed. In other words, they show how knowledge is viewed as a feature of the natural world itself, rather than as a construction that has resulted from the interactions of human beings. Constructionism is grounded in a social ontology that conceives of the individual as an acting being, one who is engaged in the world. That is to say, it is grounded in an ontology in which the human person and the social world are internally related to one another, mutually constituting, if you will. In such a conception, the human person is not viewed as a natural entity but rather as a social and historical product. As Berger and Luckman (1966, 67) argue:

Wombing: chorionic companions, amniotic accompaniers and placental partners

In an age when those who study the spirituality of children are keenly aware of the need to recognize and respect the role of the child in experiential and investigative contexts of spiritual identity formation, finding an appropriate metaphor for an adult’s lively, supportive engagement in the process of a child’s formation can be difficult. Applying a term such as ‘midwives’ to educators and religious leaders, particularly as the practice of midwifery has taken on more of the characteristics of medical birth management, reinforces the passive nature of the child in the spiritual birthing process. Parenting images evoke the inequities of power and control that characterize social relations among family members. Artistic models – e.g. sculptors, musicians, painters – run the risk of reducing children to materials shaped by others’ ideas and hands. Invoking the concept of a sports figure, such as a ‘coach’ or ‘trainer’, suggests that setting the pace and direction of spiritual formation is an adult activity done for the benefit of the child trainee. Each of these metaphors reinforces a hierarchical relationship between adults and children that may diminish the agency of the child in the name of promoting spiritual well-being. It is intriguing, then, to encounter in the work of Anne Phillips (2011), a British educator and empirical researcher in the area of girls’ spirituality, the suggestion that adults might function as ‘wombs’ in a child’s spiritual formation process. She stretches this metaphor in three directions: the womb-like adult as: (1) chorion, or protective membrane, who ‘marks out a place of safety’ (p. 147) for healthy development; (2) amnion, or playroom, where children embrace self-discovery (p. 153); and (3) placenta, a point of connection with ‘those environments which offer [children] the greatest opportunity for flourishing’ (p. 158). Adults concerned about children’s spirituality thus have a role to play in creating safe, playful, interrelated spaces in which children can explore who they are and what they will do in the world, but this role is peripheral rather than central in the spiritual work of children’s lives. It involves actions that shape the world which children encounter and in which they dwell, rather than specific prescriptions for children’s daily activities. Imagine a healthy pregnant womb. This generative space is defined and protected by an outer membrane that protects the foetus and regulates the exchange of oxygenated and deoxygenated blood so the child can grow at an appropriate pace and in ways that are life-giving. Without the chorion, development might be disrupted or compromised because external forces could overwhelm the foetus. The chorion does not breathe for the foetus, yet it plays a significant role in managing the child’s environment so that essential oxygen is readily available. Adults as chorionic companions to a child’s spiritual development thus function as environmental engineers, creating strong barriers to child abuse and deprivation through social and political action. They monitor cultural trends and assumptions for threats to children’s well-being, manage campaigns to overcome those threats, and promote

Campaigning with children’s lives

The 2012 American presidential campaign, like many political contests, sought to sway parental voters by playing to their concerns about their children’s futures. One major candidate ran advertisements suggesting that mothers should be less concerned about his position on abortion and more concerned about the long-term effects of government debt on the children they already have. The other major candidate reminded parents that the desire to preserve their children’s access to affordable health care should strongly influence their Election Day choice. Both politicians engaged in photo opportunities with supporters’ babies and posed with their own children and grandchildren, using children as ‘decorations’ (Liebel 2008, 4) to underscore ‘family man’ claims. Images of school children in well-resourced and organised classrooms rolled on television screens as candidate voice-overs touted commitments to public education. Cherub-faced toddlers smiled out of strollers as actors posing as prospective voters enumerated why one candidate or the other was the right man to protect America’s hopes for its children. It seemed that children were at the heart of the election and each vote characterised as a referendum on what constitutes children’s true needs. Yet, all of this rhetoric and visual posturing was called into question just one week before the election when a mother posted a video online of her four-year-old daughter crying and saying, ‘I’m tired of Bronco Bama [sic] and Mitt Romney’ (Evans 2012). Her plaintive complaint went viral, touching a nerve among American voters weary after months of campaign sound bites and robo-calls. A real child, as opposed to a commercial-prop child, gave voice to what many adults were thinking: that political squabbling does little to further children’s well-being and may even leave some children (and adults) crying out for something different. Four-year-old Abigael’s tears remind us that politicians often see children more as archetypes of innocence and dependence than as embodied individuals with useful perspectives on what is right and good for them and for society. Ethicist John Wall writes, ‘The experiences of children need to become new lenses for interpreting what it means to exist, to live good lives, and to form just communities – for the sake of children and adults both’ (Wall 2010, 1). Stock images of childhood obscure the more complex realities of actual children’s lives. Understanding who children really are requires politicians to observe children at play, talk with them about their hopes and dreams, invite their questions about social issues and encourage them to engage in ethical reflection. Taking real children seriously means letting them participate in electoral politics on their own terms rather than solely in roles scripted by candidates. Some scholars even suggest that direct representation in the political process through children’s suffrage is necessary to ensure children’s wellbeing, arguing, ‘Children’s political rights should be exercised not only indirectly International Journal of Children’s Spirituality Vol. 17, No. 4, November 2012, 263–264

A risky business: the potential of groupwork skills for spiritual education in a classroom of difference

This article considers the notion of difference as we experience it in our daily lives, and specifically, within the classroom between pupils and teachers. Drawing on research and work with schools in the south of England, the paper describes how the Working with Others Unit at the University of Brighton has developed a practical process approach to exposing and working with difference in the classroom. In outlining this process and its impact on the class group, the paper explores how relationships and difference are recognized, negotiated and utilized in learning among the class group. The paper proposes that, as well as engaging with the theme of difference, this practical approach offers an understanding of spiritual education that is applicable and relevant for today’s classrooms and pupils.

The challenges of fostering an international and interdisciplinary conversation

As editors of an international and interdisciplinary journal, one of our primary tasks is to create a hospitable space for perspectives from many different cultures, academic fields and practical settings. At the same time, we must be attentive to diverse interpretations of academic rigour; varied institutional expectations regarding impact factor, acceptance rates and peer review practices; and financial limitations in relation to language translation and manuscript editing. We also remain aware of the high volume of journals competing in the academic marketplace and the increasingly difficult task of attracting article submissions in a world that still does not reward work on children or spirituality at the same level as other scholarly pursuits. Producing a high-quality journal in the face of these many challenges is an exercise in negotiation and compromise. Yet, we cannot lose sight of the importance of listening across cultures, exploring ideas from fields other than our own and attending to how theories are embodied in the practices of those who work most closely with children on a day-to-day basis. One of the most striking aspects of conversations that include scholars and practitioners from different countries is how quickly we discover that the vocabularies we take for granted do not always signify the same meaning outside our cultural context. Take, for example, the term ‘childhood’, which may mean the period of life before the onset of puberty, a longer period that extends from birth until legal adulthood, the first two decades of life or some other span of time defined by cultural norms. Or the term ‘evangelical’, which may refer to all non-Catholic religious traditions in some cultures, a specific set of Protestant traditions with particular theological beliefs in other settings or a specific historical tradition (e.g. the German Evangelical Church). ‘Kindergarten’ can refer to educational systems prior to the start of formal schooling or the first year of formal education. Similar interpretive difficulties can arise with terms like ‘philosophy’, ‘theology’, ‘humanist’, ‘pluralism’ and ‘spirituality’. Rather than expend time and energy looking for common definitions of these key terms, a well-constructed international and interdisciplinary conversation encourages each participant to define these terms contextually and share with listeners (readers) what the speaker (author) means. Furthermore, regular engagement in such conversations reminds us that our terms are socially constructed and thus must be regarded with a hermeneutics of suspicion. Meaning is fluid, not fixed, and we do well to hold our terminology lightly so that we can alter our definitions if they become unhelpful or distracting to our own work or our attempts to communicate with others. International and interdisciplinary conversations also reveal the plurality of academic standards that guide our research. Some scholars are steeped in the statistical methods of quantitative studies, others come from fields and institutional settings that model qualitative methodologies and still others are trained according to a