Who’s going to own the responsibility of technology integration?

After a long weekend, I thought I would sign on tonight and just read through everything on my Bloglines. No time to write, just read what everyone else is thinking about as school begins. And of course there was a Will Richardson post on Weblogg-ed.com that got me thinking and then responding.

Will writes about technology integration, “I agree that there is a de facto irrelevance (whether we say we see the need for technology or not) if the people in leadership positions aren’t walking the walk and using technology as a part of their practice. I think of Tim Lauer and Tim Tyson who lead by example, and how rare that is when it comes to technology in schools. But is that only going to be solved when new, younger, technology facile leaders emerge?”

As one of those school leaders, I’m trying to walk the walk. I’m learning as I go and trying to stay relevant and in tune with everything new. I’m frustrated by spam,time constraints on my own ability to manage blogging, and by my inexperience with a lot of the techie “stuff”. I can’t even get the stinking link tool that Will showed me to work so that I can link his name to his site. But I’m trying, I’m out there, and I’m working at it.

This is much the same way as when I tried new strategies and worked at my teaching, experimenting with new ideas to determine if they engaged my students and helped them to own content. My “leaders” didn’t necessarily model it, they didn’t try it first, they may not have even heard about it. What did they do? My principals and superintendent supported me in my efforts. They trusted me to work hard, to have the best interest of my students at heart, to do my best and to get good results. They provided me with professional growth opportunities, listened to my ideas, and told me to “go for it“.

That’s the role of principals as leaders in technology integration too. If teachers want to try something, if they learn of a new idea, if they want to blog with their students, whatever, they darn sure better not sit around and wait for a leader to model it. That’s a cop out. If teachers have good ideas and work hard and have the best interest of their students at heart, their principals will most likely support them. Teachers need to step up and take the initiative and own the responsibility of technology integration.

It’s much easier for teachers to get support for a good idea from a principal than for a principal to move a building of teachers. Guess what else? Other teachers will be much more likely to follow the lead of the best teachers than to follow the directive of a principal. Teachers need to lead by example and principals need to support good ideas, get out of the way, and watch them work. And yeah, we need to keep learning and growing and leading too. It takes both to make it work. But hey, I’ve never been very good at waiting around for anyone else to take the responsibility for my growth. That’s my responsibility. 

How many students may I leave behind?

So how many dropouts does it take to deem a school a failure? Really. I get the NCLB requirements and the close focus New York State has on graduation rate. I pay close attention to our data, but more important, to our students. We all spend a great deal of our time and energy keeping kids in school. Why? Because it’s the reason we’re here and it’s important that every child has at least a high school diploma. I know with certainty that every student who leaves G-Town with a diploma is stronger and more capable in the world and for the children that they in turn will raise. I know all this and still, I wonder, how many dropouts are acceptable?

The school year signals a beginning, another fresh start, new school supplies. It’s a chance to make new friends and spend time with old friends, a chance to make a good impression, improve a GPA, attend school more often, learn new subjects and meet new teachers. We spend most of July and August planning for the return of our teachers and students and hoping that this year will be even better than the last.

But September also brings back those students who weren’t successful last year, or the year before, or the year before that one. Students who aren’t here to learn anything, they’re here because probation told them they have to be, or because they can’t or won’t get a job and the parent says you have to do something, or because they see this as a place to socialize, or as their “marketplace” for whatever it is they are peddling, or because they haven’t got anything else to do.

Let me further describe him or her. A typical student in this position is 18 years old or turning 18 this year, with only three or four credits earned of the 22 needed for graduation, so he’ll be 21 when he graduates if he does everything right from here out. This student has repeatedly been absent, suspended, disruptive, truant, and sometimes preying on the rest of our students. This is the student who teachers cringe at the sight of that name on a roster and the other students are either afraid of or poorly influenced by him.

And you know what? I must “leave this child behind”. I know he needs a diploma just like every other kid. But I also know that it’s not what she’s here for, it’s not going to happen no matter how helpful, hopeful and optimistic I am. And I must consider the impact this child has on the other 500 students in the building. I must consider that this young man will sit in class next to my incoming 13 and 14-year-old freshmen. How is that fair or appropriate or conducive to their learning?

I know that some dropouts are acceptable because despite our best efforts, and I sincerely tell you we make them, we can’t do anything to change the course of their lives. I hate to put that in writing, but it’s true. And every school has those students who return every September for no good reason.

But still I struggle. I think of each of these students when I should be enjoying my own family at home. I worry about the future and wonder what they do all day. And I hate that I don’t have any good alternatives for them and I can’t “fix” them now. I know what some will say, that they have lousy homes and parents, that they could have been identified ten years ago, maybe even in kindergarten, that it’s too late, that there’s nothing we can do. And it makes me angry because inside the mess that they present to the world and their bad behavior, is still a child. A child who wasn’t loved enough or taught enough or guided enough or smart enough or helped enough. And I can’t do a damn thing about it. I can only commit to spend the time to be certain there’s no other way within our setting. I can connect the child with the right and caring people here at school and from outside agencies to be certain we’ve done our best. But sometimes it is too late for us to change a young man or woman and I have to leave this child behind.

If the answer is in the elementary years and then in the middle school years, we better get busy fast. Because I turned one away yesterday, I know it was the right thing to do, and every time it breaks my heart.

How do we measure a man?

I’ve tried to start this post at least ten times and stopped.  As a high school principal, I am immersed in data and Regents results, drop out prevention, our literacy issues, staff development plans, hiring, and problem solving one hundred other day to day questions. I spend much time thinking about our teachers, our students, our school climate, and our achievement. I try to learn new things and to plan for our future. And then I have a conversation, or two, that stop me in my tracks.

I have a student who came to see me right before Regents week because he expects to go to jail for a few months, and he was struggling with a decision. Seems he thought he had the choice between two months of jail time with 3 years of probation or four months of jail time with no probation. He had already convinced the judge to prolong his sentencing date until after his exams were over. He figured the four months were better because he’d never manage to stay out of trouble for three years, but he didn’t want to miss so much school. His decision was a tough one because he really wants to graduate. Well, that’s easy, because I really want him to graduate too. So I’m trying to work out the details with the county jail and keep him moving through his curriculum. Here’s a kid who really wants to graduate, who understands the importance of it, who can’t get out of his own way to make it happen.  Sometimes it feels as if the issues, the obstacles, the stuff keeping them from graduating are so much bigger than I am. 

This makes me strip away all that we do, each and every day, all that the State expects, all of the testing and the data and the reporting and the planning. It makes me remember that it’s all about a boy. And a girl. Times 474. If we don’t get to know each and every one of those students, to care about them, to let them know that they matter in G-Town, to form those relationships, then the rest doesn’t really matter. Not to me anyway. I now have a boy, who’s in county jail, who called me at least four times since that initial meeting to let me know how his case was progressing. A boy who came to see me on Tuesday, in lousy shape, to tell me he was going to jail on Friday. A boy who has my word that I’ll do whatever it takes to get him to a diploma when he gets home. A boy with whom I’ve now formed a relationship. A boy who desperately needs that diploma as he’s minutes away from becoming a man.

How will our teachers measure him when he returns? Will they see only the jokes to be told, the gossip, and the angst of getting him on track with the rest of his class? Will our teachers see an inconvenience, a derelict, a convict, a problem?

Or will they see the whole person, the boy inside? Will they help him to succeed? Will they care even more because they know he’s not cared about enough outside of our school? Will they do even more because that’s what he needs? Will they even think he deserves it?

I’ll see a boy, who needs our help to become a man. I’ll see all of him. His four months away will not define him. He’s the reason we do this job, not the test results.

Cell phones, etc. in schools

Thinking about the students in our schools, their MP3 players, cell phones, and PSP’s that teachers are forever confiscating and turning into my office for “discipline”, I’m imagining there must be a better solution. Couple this question with the idea that my personal opinion on the subject is that students will always use the gadgets that they love and what’s wrong with that anyway? How do we reconcile the students’ desire to text and connect to friends 24/7 with the teachers’ need to engage the student? Maybe that’s the answer. If the students are engaged and interested in the learning, they won’t be more interested in the next text message. Is good teaching alone the answer? I think it certainly helps but why can’t we figure out a way to engage students using the technology that they are so comfortable with in a meaningful way that furthers our educational goals?

How do we embrace that which we cannot nor should not eliminate? How do we use it to our educational advantage in engaging students with our content?