All the children of the world

Why are people’s differences such a big deal to some of us? I just don’t understand this and I’ve tried. We’re ALL DIFFERENT. I hate to have to state the obvious, but if it’s so obvious, then why do so many people miss it?

I spent some time with two intelligent young educators, Pat and Tim, the other day. They’re in our school for a college course at SUNY Fredonia, about understanding multicultural students. It sounds like a lot has been emphasized in their coursework about how our students differ from others, as Native Americans.

My thinking on this is that ethnicity doesn’t define a person; it’s just a part of who he is. Every student in the classroom is different; ethnicity is just one piece to understanding the student. And they differ in about a gazillion ways. These two guys got that, and better yet, they realized that it’s their responsibility as the teacher to know EVERY student in the classroom. From Rachel’s Challenge yesterday, “input equals output”. The more teachers put into their students, the more they care, the more they get to know them and their unique interests, the more time spent designing lessons that are of interest to them, the better. These two young guys get that it’s about teaching our students first, the subject second. Each student.

Now for anyone who thinks I just said content isn’t important–wrong! But I am saying that if you don’t connect with those students, if they don’t feel that you care about them as much or more than you care about your subject– forget about it. They aren’t going to learn your content from you anyway.

But this isn’t the only reason I’m thinking about this. I also have students who are talking to me about their own differences in regard to their sexual orientation. They talk about acceptance and tolerance and support.

I’m sorry that it matters. I’m sorry that their “differences” are such a big deal. I’m sorry that they will feel defined by this difference, instead of it just being a part of them.

Why can’t we just see the person? Why do we have to see Native or White or straight or gay or rich or poor? Why can’t we just see the person? Why is this so difficult for so many? Why must we be defined by people’s notions of us based on what they see on the surface? Why can’t we take more time to truly know the person?

 

 

Strange suspicions

I’m frustrated. I tried to explain blogging to someone over breakfast. Here’s how the conversation went. 

Them: You’re giving your ideas away for nothing. Someone else could take your ideas and advance their own careers or take credit for them.

Me: My ideas aren’t that valuable. If someone benefits from them, great. They also aren’t all that earth shattering.

Them: If your ideas aren’t valuable, then why are people reading your blog?

Me: We’re a community of learners, interested in the same topic, education. We share our ideas freely, hoping to advance learning for everyone.

Them: Nope, there’s gotta be something in it for them.

Me: Can’t they just be like me? Hoping to discuss that which they’re most passionate about? Hoping to connect, influence thinking, learn something?

Them: Nope, other people aren’t like you. You’re going to be taken advantage of.

Me: I don’t want to discuss this any longer.

Did I give up too quickly? Are these just the most cynical people alive? Why was it so hard for me to articulate what this is about? I felt defensive and judged by people who have maybe read one or two posts of mine. And when I tried to show them how I’ve been linked on other blogs like Christian Long’s think:lab, forget about it, I totally lost the argument.

Them: What’s he hoping to gain by doing that?

Me: Nothing! He actually helps me because he directs more readers my way.

Them: For what? So they can take your ideas?

Me: I don’t want to discuss this any longer.

Maybe this is the same way our students feel when defending their use of social networking sites?

Choosing the right route

I always have a pile of professional reading to attend to; in addition to the reading I do every day through my bloglines account and the daily papers. Currently, I have three journals and two professional books in the pile. I can’t ever seem to get to all of it, so I try to choose wisely.

Lately, I’ve been realizing how important those choices are in our future. During the 2005 winter break, I read Creating a Culture of Literacy: A Guide for Middle and High School Principals. This was sent to principals free of charge by the National Association of Secondary School Principals and is authored by Melvina Phillips.  For me, this book completely framed a major problem for our district, adolescent literacy. It was a catalyst for change, as I was able to articulate this to our superintendent, Charles Rinaldi, who totally supported and planned the literacy initiative that is ongoing in our district. I believe that the work our experts (our teachers) are doing right now will lead to great things for our students as we evaluate and change the course of reading in G-Town.  The best thing is that others, those most involved and able to support change, own the initiative.

Here’s the thing that’s on my mind. What if I hadn’t read that book? True, I already had reading on my mind because my high school teachers were telling me that our students don’t comprehend the Regents questions on their exams. I also nearly lost a student to graduation because of reading difficulties. So I was on the trail of the reading problem already. But I’m more convinced than ever that our planning for improvement must be purposeful. It must be data driven. More important, it must be kid driven. We have to continuously ask hard questions. We can never be content with the way things are, even when they’re going well, we have to ask, “but how can it be better?”

Our newly formed Curriculum Council, made up of the administrative team and the school leaders, both grade level and department, are taking on this task right now. We are evaluating what’s most important in teaching and learning, what’s happening in G-Town, how it’s supported now, and how it needs to be supported in the future. If there are any elephants in the corner, we’re bringing them into the middle of the room, looking at them from every angle, asking questions, and making them better.

 

After the interview

I went to a 50th birthday party last night for a terrific woman who works in our tech department. It was a local party, I work in the district in which I live.

I’ve lived in G-Town for 22 years and I’ve worked in four different school districts in my 18 years in education. I mention this because I have to admit that there are times when I see someone whom I can’t place. This happened last night at the party. Eventually, I realized why I knew this young woman, even though I couldn’t remember her name.

I interviewed her for a position at our school. And she didn’t get the job. And here we were at a party together. Awkward. I felt bad because I’m sure she knew who I was long before I realized. It’s too bad there isn’t a way that we can help candidates understand what they need to do differently. Or that we can’t say, “look, the candidate we hired just had much more experience.” Or some words of encouragement. Maybe it’s the teacher in me fighting with the administrator who understands hiring practices and liabilities. But who’s going to tell these kids what they need to do to get hired?

Be not afraid

Once again, I’ve had a post banging around in my head for a couple of days now. I’m thinking about school safety and the emails I’ve received from the people closest to me, asking if I’m safe, if our schools are safe, are we taking precautions. I’m thinking about the tragic events in the news, the real people left to pick up the pieces, and the horror of it all. Most of all, I wonder when and where it entered our collective consciousness that someone who’s disturbed, or hurting, or mentally ill takes innocent children out with them as a solution. Or when children learned they could kill someone who offers an answer they don’t like. For any parent, this strikes us where we’re most vulnerable.

As someone charged with the safety of 491 most precious people in parents’ lives, I think about what’s happening nationally and what is happening in G-Town. Are we secure enough with locked doors and our current system of security and safety plans? Are we talking to and more important, listening to, our students enough? Does every child feel connected with some adult in the building? Are our students comfortable enough with us as adults to tell us if something’s wrong with them or with someone they know? Does our staff know enough to really listen and then report? Am I responding appropriately? Is our Dean of Students? Are our counselors? Do parents feel that when they talk to us, we respond? Are we doing enough? We’re reevaluating, asking those questions, issuing reminders.

And yet, I don’t feel afraid in our school, ever.  We all still go about the business of education. That’s what we do. Day in and day out. What we’re doing is that important. I’m compelled to be here in G-Town, trying to make a difference, no matter what the consequences. In many ways, our schools are safer and more secure than they’ve ever been before. Children simply cannot be afraid to come here, nor can we. It’s our job to make good decisions, to keep our children safe, to safeguard against tragedy. We do the best we can, every single day and we go about our business, educating our children.

 

Who, me? Not me.

Why is it that disciplinary meetings with parents and students so often go the same way, with parents focusing on everything but the student’s bad behavior? I understand the importance of listening to students and parents so that they’re heard. I understand that we make some mistakes at school too and that we’re not perfect, none of us, not the kids and not me. And I do listen, it’s important.

But I also understand that taking the focus off of the child’s mistake, especially when it’s big enough to land in a hearing, does nothing to help that child learn something productive from the experience. It does nothing to help the child change. Assigning blame and responsibility everywhere else just teaches children that they have an external locus of control. If they do not control their own lives, how do they possibly function as a successful, productive adult? I’m truly not complaining here, I’m trying to express concern for the children who grow up with this perception about the world. I think this may be the single most important lesson we teach our children.

Our students who have parents who say to their children, “I don’t care why you did it, it was wrong and it will not happen again.“, are the parents and students whom I never have to meet with in a disciplinary hearing.

In my experience working with students of all kinds for seventeen years, those who are accountable for their actions, without excuses, are the most successful. We must teach our children personal responsibility instead of assigning blame elsewhere. It is, honest to goodness, in their best interest as future spouses, employees, and parents. It’s too important to mess up.

I don’t mean we never cut a kid some slack. They’re kids, not adults, and most of the adults I work with (including me) need some slack every now and then too. I mean teaching kids that when they do fall short, and we all do, that they stand up and be accountable.

I realize now, at 42 years old, that I’m grateful to my parents. I’m glad they expected good grades, told me I’d be punished at home if I ever dared receive detention, accepted no excuses, taught me how to say “I’m sorry”, expected me to fight my own battles and to stand on my own two feet. I’m grateful to my mother for telling me she wasn’t there to entertain me and therefore go find something to do. And I’m especially grateful that I have that model in my head as I raise my own two children.

I wish I could figure out a curriculum to teach this. I wish I could find a way to change the family climate and to change the model for children growing up this way.

High Schools Need Improvement

New York State listed the 228 High Schools Identified As Needing Improvement today. I’m happy to say we’re not on this list, but we are a high school in need of improvement. Our teachers and students can do better and we have too many dropouts. I can do better as their principal.

Every good teacher and administrator knows that we can always do better. In addition to the day to day management of our building and all that it encompasses, I spend a tremendous amount of time researching and problem solving to increase our achievement and graduation rate. We look at the test results, teaching practices, curriculum, literacy, professional development opportunities, culture, drop out prevention plans, school climate, and especially, at our students.  And thank goodness, we had gains in June’s Regents results that helped us make AYP (adequate yearly progress) and keeps us as a school in good standing.

I live in dread that we won’t continue to improve, despite our best efforts, and we’ll end up “on the list”. Defined as a failure.

But hey, New York State is happy to help as they’ve outlined corrective action. That’s great because I’ll take any good idea I can get, anything that’s scientifically research based anyway. And I’d like to spend more money and time on high quality professional development.  I provide written notification to parents on our results. We already have a teacher mentoring program. And hell, I’ve no idea how to promote more parent involvement. They’re either really involved or never involved. Our building improvement team sponsors six or seven major events per year to improve climate and to bring in our families, so we can do more there. Maybe being on the “list” won’t be so bad anyway. I just hope if G-Town lands on the list, they give us more direction than that ’cause I’m already there.

And still I wonder.

Why is it that some teachers wonder and worry about their students, thinking about what they can do to help them succeed while others just wish they had different students who would do whatever they say?

Why is it that some parents listen to their children complain about the school and tell them to deal with it while other parents agree with the kids and tell them it’s the school’s fault?

Why is it that some principals look at a school and wonder how they can make things better for everyone while others try not to change a thing to make it better for themselves?

Why is it that some of our kids couldn’t care less about drugs and alcohol while others couldn’t care less about school?

I wonder why personal responsibility to make something happen is so much harder than pointing at everyone else. I wonder why that makes people feel better at all.

Girl Interrupted

Our students, staff, and faculty have started the 2006-2007 school year with a smooth opening, a positive climate and a lot of hope for everything from our academic achievement to our undefeated football team (so what if it’s only been one game).

I’m back to my school year life of constant interruptions. Actually my workday is one long series of interruptions with the ability to complete a project coming at about 3:30 after most are long gone. I guess I just realize that’s the nature of my job and that working with people is the reason I’m in it. It’s also the reason that my outside of school life is devoid of as much social interaction as I can arrange. As someone who talks to people all day, every day, I kind of like my evenings or weekends at home, alone with my family. Yep, I’m the girl who says “look, we’re WORK friends, I don’t want to see you outside of school.” It’s not that I don’t enjoy the people at G-Town, it’s just that I need to refuel from time to time.

 

Any principal’s kids out there?

So my son enters ninth grade this year, in my building. Hmmm. Any ideas on what we can do to make this work? We have a great relationship and I’d pretty much like that to continue.

In the scope of what my some of my students have to deal with, being the principal’s kid hardly compares. I’m just not sure it’ll always feel that way to the one who lives in my house.

Has anyone experienced this, either as the kid or as the parent? Any advice?