What kind of "parent" should I be?

It's a question that every educator (whether teacher or administrator) asks him or herself, when it comes to communicating with the classroom teachers of his/her own children.  I have a 2nd grade daughter who goes to school in my own school district--the one in which I work as an administrator-in-training.  And a full three months into the school year, I'm feeling that this is simply going to be a "lost year" for my daughter in terms of her school-based academic growth.  Most of the comments my daughter innocently shares with me about her every day, reflect a classroom environment where "management skills" are lacking.  Once when I mentioned this frustration privately to my wife, she reminded me that my daughter's class has 30 students--a terribly difficult condition for a teacher to be effective.

I am a parent.  But I've decided that for me (a fellow educator), I can not express my feelings with my daughter's teacher or school as freely as other parents would and should.  This has nothing to do with concerns for my career as a future principal--it only has to do with empathy for her teacher.  First of all, I know the difficulty of having a handful of challenging students in a classroom.  Classroom management is not always a simple matter.  But secondly, I don't want to be the kind of educator that wields "insider knowledge" to exert pressure or influence on another educator. 

Today, my daughter told me that her school counselor described her class as "horrible".  That's the kind of frustrating news that would prompt me to open up about a topic like this--one that I've been struggling with since the beginning of the school year.  I will simply have to supplement my daughter's education with as much home-based learning this year, and hope for a better classroom experience next year.

Strength Finders 2.0

My family spent a couple of nights at a hotel over Thanksgiving break.  As I flipped through a complimentary Wall Street Journal one morning, I noticed they had a special "best sellers" list of books focused on business.  And on the top of the list?  "Strength Finders 2.0" by Tom Rath. 

I was actually assigned to read this book a couple of months ago, but had no idea that it was such a popular book.  What it amounts to is a $25 personality inventory.  Each book comes with a sealed code that allows you to take a 30 minute questionnaire online.  What the questionnaire purports to reveal are your top five "talent themes" from among a list of 34. 

This isn't a recommendation necessarily.  But it's worth recording here what my top five talent themes appear to be (according to Strength Finders, and paraphrased by me): 

1. Context:  I analyze words and deeds through a historical perspective
2. Relator:  Others seek my advise, insights, and counsel
3. Harmony:  I follow procedures, get jobs done, and don't seek special treatment
4. Connectedness:  I pay close attention to what people think and do
5. Learner:  I am determined to broaden my knowledge and acquire new skills

I don't necessarily agree with the results entirely, especially after studying the other possible 29 talent themes.  But I think there's something insightful in the underlying philosophy of the book, that in any organization we should strive to develop people based off of the assets they bring to the table, as opposed to focusing so much on their deficits.  Strong teams are developed when members with complementing strengths are brought together. 

School Stamps of Approval

I was fascinated to learn last week that schools can buy-in to a variety of programs that result in something akin to a "Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval" or "Better Business Bureau Award".  And just like these famous honors from the business world, these school certification programs cost a lot of money.

For starters, I learned of an organization called "International Baccalaureate".  A number of schools in my district are already certified "I.B."  I'd heard of the nomenclature before, and merely assumed that it was some (free) designation based on curriculum.  How naive of me!  For a school to earn the "I.B." tag, there is a $10,000 process involved!  Similarly, another school in our district has adopted the "Expeditionary Learning" model of schooling.  There is a fee associated with this as well.

Two thoughts come to mind:

• Having an explicit and comprehensive philosophical model to follow is an ingenious way to drive change in a school community (staff, students, parents).  People rally around sports teams' colors, logos, and mascots.  A certification is likewise something to rally around.  
• On the other hand, it's a shame that a fledgling industry is developing around school certifications.  Isn't it enough to strive for simple academic excellence?  The answer may apparently be "no".  Specialization is the by-product of societal affluence, because specialization cannot occur without the money to pay for it.  Are schools being pressured towards special certifications for their public relations value? 

Meg Whitman

Having once worked at eBay, I'm neither a believer or fan of Meg Whitman. And even though I have no credentials as a business or financial analyst, I felt the same disbelief as many other commentators in reaction to her selection as CEO of venerable Hewlett-Packard.

But I try to keep an open mind, and so I read this CBS MarketWatch opinion piece with great interest. Amazingly and admirably, Whitman is changing the minds of her doubters. How someone who goes into a leadership position with no well of respect and manages to turn the tide is a process that I want to learn more about.  The opening paragraph of the piece is key:

"As most readers know, I’m not necessarily a fan of Meg Whitman’s appointment as chief executive of Hewlett-Packard Co.  My complaint, in brief, is that she does not have the core competencies needed to guide a massive hardware company."

Exactly.  And some day when I become an administrator for the first time, this same criticism about a lack of "core competencies" will certainly be leveled at me.  With her decision-making acumen, Whitman has managed to convince a prominent critic to say, "I’m impressed with her decisions so far." I can certainly learn something from my former boss.

Responses to the Penn State Tragedy

I've been consumed for an entire week by news coverage of the horrific scandal at Penn State University.  Many commentators have correctly noted that this is another depressing example of how absolute power corrupts absolutely.  I have no words of my own to offer that haven't already been expressed by countless others.  On the other hand, I always respect the comments of people who are able to offer something unconventional, courageous, and thoughtful. 

I think Penn State alumnus and former NFL star Franco Harris makes a solid observation on the topic of hypocrisy. Said Harris regarding a police commissioner's suggestion that Paterno had a "moral obligation" to go directly to the police:

"When I heard that it blew my mind. Why would they bring the moral into the legal? Now, everyone gets to interpret in their own way. That's what really bothers me: Joe did what was right for him to do. He forwarded the information to his superiors. That's the legal procedure at Penn State.  If I had to choose today between the moral integrity and character of Joe Paterno and the politicians and commentators criticizing him, I would pick Joe Paterno, hands down, no contest every time."

While everyone else within the coaching fraternity refused to openly question the basic integrity of Paterno, former NCAA and NFL coach Barry Switzer offered this blistering opinion:

“Having been in this profession a long time and knowing how close coaching staffs are, I knew that this was a secret that was kept secret.  Everyone on that staff had to have known, the ones that had been around a long time."

And finally, I was impressed by the honesty of former NFL player Jon Ritchie (who absolutely idolized Jerry Sandusky from the time he was a teenager).  His courageous comments, viewable in the video below, stood in singular contrast to the sanctimony of seemingly everyone else, who claimed with 100% certainty they could have easily defied Penn State's culture of silence to bring an end to the abuse:

Article: "The Fragile Success of School Reform in the Bronx"

Jonathan Mahler authors a gut-punching profile of struggling, yet successful South Bronx middle school.  It's a lengthy article, but one worth reading, just to remind myself of the relative comfort I enjoy working in a largely prosperous suburban school district.  A salient excerpt:

And yet even as school reform made it possible for González to succeed, as the movement rolls inexorably forward, it also seems in many ways set up to make him fail. The grading system imposed by Klein that has bestowed three consecutive A’s on González is based in part on how well 223 does on state tests. But the school's relative success on these tests and other measures also disqualifies him from additional state resources earmarked for failing schools. The ever-growing number of charter schools, often privately subsidized and rarely bound by union rules, that Klein unleashed on the city skims off the neighborhood’s more ambitious, motivated families. And every year, as failing schools are shut down around González, a steady stream of children with poor intellectual habits and little family support continues to arrive at 223. González wouldn’t want it any other way — he takes pride in his school’s duty to educate all comers — but the endless flow of underperforming students drags down test scores, demoralizes teachers and makes the already daunting challenge of transforming 223 into a successful school, not just a relatively successful one, that much more difficult.

Fellow NY Times columnist Joe Nocera also wrote a thoughtful response ("The Limits of School Reform") that I believe is spot-on.  My favorite passage:

The point is obvious, or at least it should be: Good teaching alone can’t overcome the many obstacles Saquan faces when he is not in school... Going back to the famous Coleman report in the 1960s, social scientists have contended — and unquestionably proved — that students’ socioeconomic backgrounds vastly outweigh what goes on in the school as factors in determining how much they learn. Richard Rothstein of the Economic Policy Institute lists dozens of reasons why this is so, from the more frequent illness and stress poor students suffer, to the fact that they don’t hear the large vocabularies that middle-class children hear at home. Yet the reformers act as if a student’s home life is irrelevant.

Article: "How Not to Talk to Your Kids"

An insightful article on the impact of incessant praise on a child, "How Not to Talk to Your Kids," in the New York Magazine.  I've also seen it entitled "The Praise Paradox" in other publications.  The most pertinent passage from the article:

“Emphasizing effort gives a child a variable that they can control,” she explains. “They come to see themselves as in control of their success. Emphasizing natural intelligence takes it out of the child’s control, and it provides no good recipe for responding to a failure.”

Sprinters and marathon runners

Principals who visit classrooms to observe teachers are analogous to a well-rested sprinter running side-by-side with a runner who is in the middle of running a marathon.  There is a different level of energy, mental clarity, and strength between the two runners in that situation, just as there is between a principal and a classroom teacher.  I believe there would be a far greater probability of feedback from principals resulting in positive action by teachers if this analogy was openly acknowledged and embraced.

A theory of diminishing returns in teaching

Last week, I attended a SIOP facilitators meeting at our school.  No wonder that there's so much resistance and cynicism in my school about implementing SIOP.  The philosophy of SIOP demands faithful implementation by at least 75% of a school staff before promising any results.  There are eight SIOP components to lesson planning: 

1. Lesson Preparation
2. Building Background
3. Comprehensible Input
4. Strategies
5. Interaction
6. Practice/Application
7. Lesson Delivery
8. Review/Assessment

But here's the thing:  at some point, aren't we drilling down to such an excruciating level of detail in our demands of teachers, that we are making the act of teaching appear needlessly complex?  Granted, teaching is not "simple", but even simple actions can be made to appear complex through over-analysis.

If you wanted to, you could break down the act of catching a ball into a sequence of 100 steps supplemented with formulas from physics and calculus.  You could similarly break down the secrets to a healthy marriage down to the level of the timing and frequency of foot massages.  But would the benefits of internalizing such advice be worth the effort?  Isn't their a point of diminishing returns?

How should we view teachers?

There's an extremely fine line between viewing teachers as a problem, and viewing them as a solution.  The unstated assumption of so many texts on educational leadership is to view teachers (within a context of the need for change) as a problem.  I would hope that I am able to adopt a viewpoint of teachers as the solution to achieving excellence in schools.

Building Trust (Part 2)

When texts on educational leadership speak of "building trust," they are invariably referring to the ideal of staff trusting administrators.  But what about the other way around?  Isn't there room to discuss whether administrators are able to trust their staffs?

Building Trust

"Building trust" with staff is a central concern in the educational literature for school principals.  This worry is so prevalent that it almost exists as a convenience to explain away the failure to realize the gains in achievement promised by whatever trendy teacher-centered reforms are being pushed by educational researchers at the time.  (Heavens forbid, after all, that these researchers ever admit that their precious, meticulously "researched" ideas were either impractical, ineffective, or just plain out-of-touch.) 

The preoccupation with "building trust" has a flip side that I have yet to see be explored.  There exists in every school district veteran principals who are respected, trusted, and even loved by their staff.  I can think of many in my own school district.  In schools like these, what remains as a barrier to the enactment of any good idea?  Gains in school-wide achievement should be automatic, no? 

The fact that an achievement gap persists, in schools with both high and low trust among staff and administration, shows that the industry of educational research and publishing produces little that is of practical value for schools.  Instead of a relentless focus on how to make teachers better, a wider lens needs to be applied to the perceived underperformance of children in our public schools.  Our scope should also include the underlying systems and structures of schools and the cultural values of our communities and families. 

Teacher interview questions

One of my most valuable experiences this summer with my mentor principal has been participating in all of the summer interviews that are required to fill our school's staffing requirements.  All told so far, I have participated in four days worth of interviews. 

After the first day, I remember being enamored by one candidate's competence--she clearly knew her stuff, and I was convinced she would be an amazing teacher.  My principal, on the other hand, expressed reservations.  There were little clues in the wording of some of her responses that caught my principal's attention.  Like phrases that indicated a pride that she was able to do her job better than others.  Then on the second day of interviewing, we met a candidate that just lit up the room with enthusiasm.  Every teacher on the interview panel was energized by her.  I then realized that in today's world of public education, it's not enough to be adept in the classroom--a superior teacher is able to elevate the quality of teaching among her peers as well.  It is the power of collaboration, a key buzzword in education today. 

As a little bonus, here is a sampling of some of the questions that we used in our interview: 

• Can you briefly describe your level of familiarity with our school district's learning targets (in your subject area)?  
• In any subject area that you have taught, describe how you have used learning targets or state standards to guide your instruction.  
• How would you address a gap in knowledge that you have noticed between students who have access to a variety of technology in their own home, and those who do not?  
• Could you give us an example of how you have collaborated with members of a grade level team to improve learning in your classroom?  
• Could you give us an example of an instance where you worked effectively with a parent to improve his or her child's classroom achievement or behavior? 

Vice presidents and assistant principals

The debt ceiling compromise appears to be a done deal.  I enjoyed reading Politico's piece on the crucial role played by Vice President Joe Biden in negotiating the final details, "Joe Biden, Mitch McConnell and the making of a debt deal".

One of the ironies of the the coursework my classmates and I have gone through in order to earn our administrative credentials is the amount of time we spend discussing our personal visions and philosophies about being a leader, when in fact, the first many years of our administrative careers will most likely be spent as an assistant principal.  In other words, we will be working tirelessly to support someone else's conception of school leadership. 

For all future assistant principals (such as myself), the piece on Joe Biden provides an example of how even leaders in positions of secondary authority occasionally have central roles to play in critical matters.  The debt ceiling compromise is not one that I am pleased with, but I wholeheartedly appreciate the work of our Vice President.

My summer training

I am so fortunate to be mentored by a principal who trusts and values me.  I earned this stature as I worked with her for four months last year as part of my administrative licensing program, a formal process known as "the Practicum."  And because our relationship is so productive, she has allowed me to work with her throughout this year's summer vacation.

I am still technically a teacher.  I don't get paid anything extra.  But I have been spending two days every week this summer working at her school, simply soaking in all the wisdom and technical knowledge I can from her.  She generously shares her thoughts in her decision-making processes.  She has entrusted me with a sizable plate of responsibilities.  She values my input. 

I have been assigned by my school district to continue my mentorship with her when the new school year starts in a month.  It is going to be a pleasure to open the school together.

Headline irony

Just yesterday, in my reflection on the Women's World Cup, I wrote about how our ability to access knowledge is limited by our language.  In a "related development" (as a journalist might say) can you guess what is today's top headline among the Japanese news media?  It is the following:

米朝協議始まる、１年７か月ぶり

.. which loosely translates to "The United States and North Korea open talks for the first time in one year and seven months." 

Now, if it's "top news" about the U.S., and it's even garnering prime headlines in foreign news publications, wouldn't it be reasonable to expect at least one of my favored U.S.-based news websites to cover the story?  Apparently and ironically, no.  Google News homepage?  (Nowhere.)  Huffington Post homepage?  (Zippo.)  Politico?  (Korea is waaaay too far from the beltway.) 

Oh, so language is a barrier to knowing what's happening in other important parts of the world?  How about American media being a barrier to knowing what's happening right here in our own country.

The Women's World Cup and limits (gasp!) to the information age

I was enthralled by the World Cup championship match between the United States and Japan.  Being Asian-American, I found my heart tugged in opposite directions.  As inspiring as the American women's play was, it was almost more amazing just to live in a magical moment when all of America was focused on a women's sport--and this wasn't even the Olympics.  But ultimately, I couldn't help but feel jubilation witnessing the less talented and decidedly underdog Japanese band of women achieve their historic victory.

I'm a pretty big sports fan.  I listen to sports talk radio daily.  On days immediately following any notable event in the sports world, I practically disappear from my family, immersing myself in every variety of "post game analysis" on radio and TV, of which interviews with winners and losers are a staple.  And yet following Japan's win, nowhere in our entire spectrum of media was there to be found an interview with any member of the Japanese team.  The void was entirely understandable given the insurmountable barrier of language, and yet it was so frustrating.  "The winners..  the champions...  where are they?  Somebody let me hear from them!"  Thus was my mode of thought around that time. 

In this way, World Cup soccer taught me something.  We often view our current information age as if it represents a boundlessly and infinitely accessible entity.  But we can't forget that even in an increasingly global community, our individual capacities for knowledge will forever be capped by the languages we speak--or don't speak, to be more precise.  Even in the internet age, can we realistically ever believe we will be able to comprehend the universes of, say, Arabic music, Indian literature, Cambodian news, or Brazilian comedy?  Seen in this light, our perspectives are narrow indeed! 

The booming world of educational literature

For fun, I am currently reading "Albion's Seed," by David Hackett Fisher.  I learned about this book via Wikipedia, when I was researching material for a cultural diversity assembly at my elementary school.  (Look up Wikipedia's entry for "European American," for the enticing description of Fisher's book that drew me in.) 

On the other hand, the list of education-related books that my district mentors have assigned me over the past six months keeps piling up: 

• "Teach Like a Champion" (332 pages)
• "Unmistakable Impact" (313 pages)
• "Courageous Conversations about Race" (281 pages)
• "Change Leadership" (263 pages)
• "The Art and Science of Teaching" (219 pages)
• "RTI in the Classroom" (183 pages)
• "RTI for Diverse Learners" (275 pages)

Truthfully, I am looking forward to reading a couple of these books, especially the ones that address the gaps in my knowledge that I became aware of through my recent interview process.  This will be my first summer vacation ever where I will be focused on plowing through books. 

Sitting in a corner

Even though I'm not quite yet an administrator (one more year of waiting), I was invited by my supervisors to attend an "All Admin" meeting this morning.  That means that every principal and assistant principal in our district was there.  By my count, the conference room was filled with about 85 people.

In terms of this blog, the purpose of the meeting wasn't as important as where I chose to sit--as far into a back corner as possible.  And I made sure to wait until the last possible moment to enter the meeting room. I really don't know "this crowd" yet, and I am just awful--god awful--at chit chatting.  And as far as moving up the ranks, I would even describe my inability to engage in useless banter as an Achilles heel.  Whenever I go to these meetings, it just seems like everyone knows how to stir a coffee cup in one hand, while cackling it up with any nearby companion.

The interesting thing though is that once a meeting starts, I am quite fearless in sharing my thoughts or questions.  It's even become a part of my reputation, for better or for worse (mostly for the better, I would hope).  But for today's meeting, not a peep out of me.  There's also such thing as a time and place, and an "All Admin" gathering is not the place for a teacher to raise his hand.

300 Teen-Agers

My vision of becoming a principal has always included a "chief motivator"-type of component.  I visualize myself addressing a large auditorium, cafeteria, of gymnasium full of underachieving teenagers and inspiring them to achieve great things.  And why would this be an unreasonable vision?  I've done it with a classroom full of students time and again (even with classrooms of kids I didn't know).

"Nuh-uh."  Not so fast.  There's a huge difference between 30 kids and 300 kids, as I found out yesterday.  I have been charged with organizing my school's end-of-year celebration for 8th graders.  It's going to be a ton of fun, and to get the kids charged up, I created a quick little powerpoint preview to present during the 8th graders' lunch period.  Well wouldn't you know it, it was just downright impossible to get them all to be quiet.  There were moments where I was able to speak to them enough to convey information, but they were punctuated by multiple occasions where I had to simply turn off the projector and wait to re-gain their collective attention.

And darn it, there weren't any strings attached to my message either!  No orders for them to behave better, or respect their peers, or keep the cafeteria clean!  It was simply a message of pure fun.  And yet, they couldn't sit respectfully for a simple 5 minutes.  You'd think I'd understand teen-agers better than this!

My first American Indian Pow Wow

I attended an American Indian Pow Wow tonight for the first time.  The event is the largest annual gathering of American Indians in my town, and is organized by one of the very few American Indian teachers in my school district, on the campus of the high school where he teaches.

I don't want to somehow diminish the meaning of this community event by trying to describe it.  There was very little of it which I understood, as a matter of fact.  I will only say that I was moved, and plan on attending the event annually in the future.

As a result of the cultural assemblies that I have been managing for my elementary school, I have been thinking a lot lately about the collision of European explorers with the native Indian populations of North America.  This particular visual that I found was a real jolt to me:

 

This is a map that represents the dispersal of Indian tribes all across North America before European explorers arrived.  I had never seen any such map in my entire years of schooling, including college.  In any textbook I have ever seen, all maps of the early United States (e.g. the thirteen colonies, the Louisiana Purchase, Lewis and Clark's journey) portrayed vast American land as empty and unoccupied.  In fact, there was an unbelievably amazing tapestry of Indian civilization that existed.  What a different perspective we would all have as Americans if our textbooks had properly layered our colonies, our land grants, our trails, and our westward expansion on top of this tapestry. 

Not this time

A kind person from HR called me yesterday to tell me that I wasn't selected for the open administrative position.  I certainly do feel a range of emotions that take me up and down, but it's more like a gentle sled ride than a rickety roller coaster.  Mostly, I am fortunate to know that I am still landing in a wonderful place for next year, a position of pure learning as an administrative intern being mentored by some amazing leaders in our district.

Other random personal reactions from the experience...

• It's an awkward feeling to not be selected by a panel that consists of many people you know personally.  Do they think less of me?  Have I been tainted by losing in front of them?  Have I somehow been exposed?  Such questions run through my mind (though I know the answer in each case is "no").  
• I am actively trying to resist the tendency to place inordinate weight for the end result on my interview performance.  I consciously tell myself that even had I answered each question perfectly, it wouldn't have been enough to overcome the experience advantage that others had over me.  
• I am heading into administration from the starting point of being a capable teacher.  But to be selected as an administrator (and then do an adequate job), I need to fill in the sizable gaps in my knowledge of the systems, tools, procedures, and structures that make our district operate smoothly.  
• It's important for me to accept all of this in a positive manner.  Children learn from their parents, and I want to be an example to my daughters about how to handle setbacks in life.  

Including white families in the celebration of cultures

I'm on the verge of something interesting.  Once a week over the past month, I have been presenting mini-assemblies to my elementary school on cultural diversity.  So far, my content has been fairly standard stuff, introducing students to pictures of my own family, inserting plentiful references to Latino, Asian, and other minority cultures.  Last week, my topic was the presence of American Indian tribes throughout all of North America (prior to the arrival of Europeans on the scene).  But this week, my vision will reach a milestone when I talk about the influence of European culture on the United States.

In all my years in public schooling, both as a child and as a teacher, I don't remember anyone ever introducing European culture within the contemporary context of diversity or cultural contributions to the United States.  "Diversity" has always been understood to reference minority cultures and perspectives.  The reasons are understandable--the language, food, clothing, and skin color of people from other parts of the world "stand out" against the backdrop of our country's white-dominant society.

One of the goals of my assembly series, therefore, (the part that I think is unusual) is to give white students a sense of inclusiveness in the discussion about diversity.  I use the term "white students" instead of "students of European ancestry" because not all white families feel a sense of connectedness to their European roots, primarily because their generational roots in the United States run so deep.  My thesis is that providing white people the space and encouragement to explore and find pride in their heritage helps minorities in the long run by placing cultural celebrations of all types in a context that is neither "us versus them" or somehow "un-American."

The other critical reason that white students need to view their identity in a cultural context is that eventually (when they are older) they need to understand that American society, though pluralistic, multi-racial, and multi-cultural, is decidedly tilted in favor of people of European ancestry--"white people," if you will.  There is such thing as a "privilege" to being white in America that extends across all economic strata.  Such a knowledge places the nagging, persistent challenges facing people of color in a more contextual, non-judgmental light.

Remember by the way, that my audience is elementary school children.  At this age level, celebration and togetherness are my core objectives.  And so in deference to the 40% of Americans who trace at least some ancestry to Britain or Germany, this week we'll have fun talking about the cultural origins of apple pies and hot dogs!

The Interview

Twenty-four hours have passed since my interview.  (Actually, it's taken more than a day to complete this entry, so technically 48 hours have now passed.)  It took me about that long to decompress, including the wee hours of the night when I was supposed to be sleeping (instead of up half-awake wondering how I could have answered this-or-that question differently).  All in all, I did a pretty good job.  I regret dropping the ball on a few of the questions, but I understand this is the nature of interview situations--it's impossible to answer questions "in the moment" in the same way that you would answer them "in retrospect."

My reflections on the experience:  

1. I was interviewed by a panel of twelve.  As I made eye contact with them, it was difficult at times to not be distracted by the inevitable three or four people who looked otherwise disengaged and uninterested in what I had to say.  
2. My strategy of approaching the interview with personal anecdotes proved to be "right on"--almost all of the questions asked for specific examples of what I had done.  Unfortunately, I hadn't mentally prepared anecdotes in some areas that were the focus of some of the questions.  And so I had to improvise at times.  
3. I believe I had a slightly greater margin for error compared to other candidates because most of the members on the committee have seen me in other contexts.  Whereas first-time acquaintances could have somehow misinterpreted any of my given "answers-on-the-spot", those who have had prior experiences with me are more likely to view my responses within a larger frame of reference.  

What all of the above amounts to, in my estimation, is that whatever the outcome of the process, it will have been fair and accurate.  For the most part, I was able to portray myself to the committee in the way I had hoped.  If I end up not being selected, it will not be as a result of some uncharacteristically poor interview performance.  And therefore, there will be no "could have's" or "should have's." 

Mentally preparing an interview strategy

Roller coaster of a day (mentally).  I became so nervous about my upcoming interview that I was pretty much useless today.  My anxiety stemmed from an idea this weekend to pursue an unconventional interview strategy.  My thought was to openly acknowledge the gaps in my experience, while portraying myself as a fresh, self-assured candidate with a ton of "upside," to use a common sports term.  But this path was so unconventional and risky that it was hard to stay in tune with my natural confidence. 

At the end of today, however, a new approach came to mind:  anecdotes.  Wherever possible, answer questions with real anecdotes from my recent experience.  Establish myself as a do-er, not a talker.  Speak from experience, not from intelligence.  And so I spent some time at a coffee shop tonight, listing upwards of 40 anecdotes that reveal my special qualities as an educator and as a leader.  My confidence has been restored, and I stand on a more solid plane than when I woke up this morning. 

My mentor principal also gave me some great advice.  Be prepared to talk about my "non-negotiables" as an administrator.  Be prepared to describe a hypothetical program of professional development training. 

One wait ends, and another starts

So much for waiting, I just received an invitation to be interviewed by our District selection committee!  Now starts a different phase of waiting--and preparing.

Instructional Improvement

Instructional improvement is the latest catch phrase in the world of educational leadership.  The so-called experts proclaim it to be the primary responsibility of a school principal.  Instructional improvement refers to the responsibility of an administrator to provide regular, explicit feedback to teachers that elevate the level of learning in their classrooms.  (That's my own definition, not necessarily an official one.) 

Because I've been mentored quite a bit lately on how to conduct classroom teacher observations, I've been thinking more than I ever have before about instructional improvement.  In fact, I'm starting to develop my own blueprint for how a principal accomplishes instructional improvement.  As I see it, there are five discreet steps: 

1. Establish trust with teachers.  (based on interpersonal skills)
2. Find the time to frequently and regularly observe teachers when they are teaching.  (based on level of commitment)
3. Notice or uncover the gaps between a teacher's instruction and the students' learning.  (based on knowledge)
4. Provide teachers specific and ongoing feedback.  (based on communication skills)
5. Ensure that change occurs.  (based on leadership skills)

All the steps in the above process present enormous challenges in their own right and are equally important.  Based on my recent training experience, I feel I am currently trying to work my way through step 3. 

No longer counting the hours

In order fulfill the state licensing requirements for becoming a school administrator, you must log a total of 360 hours "practicing" to become a principal.  This requirement is referred to as the practicum.  The hours you log must be under the supervision of a licensed, mentor principal, and you must split the hours 240/120 between two different levels of schools, primary and secondary. 

I reached a milestone last week.  I attained my 360 practicum hours:  240 at a middle school and 120 at an elementary school.  Because of the truly unusual nature of my current position where I have been freed from all of my classroom teaching obligations, and instead am simply training to be a principal all day, every day, I fulfilled my hour count in something comparable to light speed:  in just over three calendar months. 

I still have two courses to complete, plus a state licensing exam before I am "official" (sometime this fall).  But with the practicum behind me, I've cleared the most daunting hurdle in the process. 

Waiting.. how long?

My wife sometimes wonders how much time we spend in life waiting.  Waiting in lines, waiting while being placed on hold, waiting in traffic, etc.  Right now I am in a classic waiting mode:  waiting to hear something after you've applied for a job.  Unlike many types of waiting, this waiting doesn't necessarily have an identifiable end time or date.  In fact, since you may get no response at all, you may not know when the waiting technically stops. 

Now that I've applied for an open position in our district as an assistant principal, I find myself going through an all too familiar pattern.  Some days I feel rather confident.  On other days, I feel I have no chance.  I read meaning into otherwise meaningless events, thinking they bear some hint about my standing.  I become cautious to avoid jeopardizing my chances.  I take measured steps to improve them. 

The truth, to answer my wife, is that we can't know how much time we spend waiting because we don't wait in isolation.  We live life within layer upon layer of contexts.  Though we may wait in one context, life goes on in all the others.  During some stretches of time, we may be in a continual state of waiting, in one form or another.  That's where I am right now, in fact. 

Parent Engagement

I've been putting off writing about this topic.  First of all, I can't think of much of an "angle" to make it interesting to the layperson.  But I've passed through so many touch-points on the matter lately, that I figure now is as good a time as any. 

Parent involvement in schools is a complicated love-hate relationship, or to describe it more accurately a delicate and tenuous one.  Schools and parents are partners in a child's overall education, and we absolutely rely on parents to share our values so that when a child's behavior turns sideways we count on mom or dad to set things straight at home.  On the other hand, our ability to operate with efficiency and fairness is often diminished when parents begin to behave in overbearing ways. 

This general topic has come up repeatedly in the course of my day-to-day activities of late: 

• My district is in the midst of a massive push to increase parent "engagement."  We choose "engagement" over "involvement" because of how the word implies a responsibility on the part of educators to reach out to parents. 
• My district is also trying to redefine what parent engagement means.  Traditionally, we think of parent involvement in terms of classroom volunteering, fund-raising, and the like.  The new age definition, however, is far more broad and includes what a parent does at home to support a child's needs--everything from making sure they aren't hungry to providing basic school supplies to having conversations over dinner.  Personally, I think this broader scope overlaps too much with the simple notion of "good parenting."  I'd rather the concept be more focused on what we can measure or track at school, otherwise there can never be any accountability.  
• I just completed a half-year tenure on a district-level committee convened to establish a school board policy on the topic.  
• Last week, I was both a participant and a facilitator in a half-day training on parent engagement that was attended by some 200 educators.  (Of course, their attendance was required, so one cannot draw any conclusion about the level of interest based upon that number.)  My most visible role in the training was being part of a panel of experts that answered questions about increasing involvement among families from minority backgrounds.  
• I attended my first ever PTO meeting last week.  I was expecting to walk into a room of 50 parents, but in fact, there was only a modest group of five.  I came away with a deep admiration for the sincerity of the small band of mothers (and one father).  
• At my other school, we had our annual "bring your parents to school" day which was surprisingly well attended.  Unfortunately, as in years' past, so many parents just couldn't exercise the simple courtesy of refraining from text messaging and taking cell calls right in the middle of classroom activities.  Such a shame that a potentially meaningful event ends up consistently leaving a sour taste in teachers' mouths. 
• And finally, our district is in the process of kicking off a campaign urging our community to a pass a local school operating bond.  Since the vast majority of voters don't have a child in school, our level of "engagement" with parents and other community members will be critical in order for there to be a successful outcome.  

The premier political mind of our times

Hillary Clinton, without a doubt.  Exactly how she transformed herself into what she is today is astonishing, even mind-blowing.  I read a transcribed interview with her in the Atlantic, and various thoughts came to mind.  At first I embarrassingly thought, "Is there any more brilliant a woman in our country?"  But then I caught myself--what does gender and brilliance have to do with each other?  Hillary Clinton may perhaps be the most brilliant politician/statesman at work today--there may not be anyone that's even close. 

It's such a shame that 2016 is so long away--the world could use her vision and leadership right now. 

Initial screening questions

As I mentioned last week, I am entering my name into the hat of applicants for a single administrative opening in my school district.  Before I can even hope to make it to the interview stage (a "long shot," so said my district-level supervisor) I have to get through the initial screening questions on the application.  So here they are, the true-to-life questions that are the basis of weeding out the wheat from the chaff:

1. How do you define excellent leadership? What strengths do you have that contribute to your effectiveness as an educational leader?
2. Describe your key values. How do you model these values as an administrator? How do they influence your decisions and your communication style?
3. What have you done in the past three years to develop yourself personally and professionally? 

I think I have strong answers for each of these.  I won't include my responses here because that would just be obnoxious.  I'll submit my application this weekend.  

The story of one Japanese-American internee

Every school has a small number of students who are chronically absent from class.  When a school sets up a meeting between a county truancy officer and the parents of a truant student, those parents move one giant step closer to being summoned before a judge in a court of law.  Schools, however, must pay for every visit by a truancy officer, and so actual appointments are rare.  Today was one of those rare days.

Unfortunately, the parent chose not to show up for the meeting.  This did, however, give me a chance to chat with the friendly officer assigned to our school, a graying, fourth generation Japanese-American.  As we talked about our shared heritage, he recounted his family's experience of suffering internment in a U.S. relocation camp during World War II.  What he could retell, however, was very limited--his mother refused to ever talk about the subject.  This was true even up to and beyond 1988, the year they received a reparations check following a landmark apology from the government of the United States. 

The check, he told me, sat on their kitchen table for over six months unopened.  Such was the pain and the pride of this elderly American woman who had been wronged.  His mother simply refused to have anything to do with it.  Finally, his family came to an agreement whereby the amount of the reparations check would be used, but only as a college fund for future grandchildren. 

No one will likely ever know the suffering and heroism of our unassuming truancy officer's mother.  It's an honor to simply mention what little I can of her in my writing here. 

My first PTO meeting

Today I attended my first PTO meeting--ever!  PTO, of course, stands for Parent Teacher Organization, and I was invited to attend, observe, and participate by my elementary school mentor principal.  I somehow had a vision of 30 to 50 parents crowded into a room, with someone at the front pounding a gavel.  With parent volunteerism generally so healthy at the elementary school level, I just assumed this would be the case with the vaunted PTO as well.

Actually there were only about five parents there.  But they were very sincere folks, and I very much admired their commitment to be involved in their children's school.  There were a small handful of pointed questions directed towards our principal in regards to what academic standards we ought to expect.  But for the most part, the atmosphere was cordial and team-oriented.  This was a small band of moms (and one pop) doing the best they could do given the low level of involvement among other parents in this important decision-making apparatus.

I was impressed enough that I volunteered my labor in helping them to coordinate the school's annual spring carnival this Saturday.

Daddy doesn't have all the answers

I am overly prideful in how I father my children.  I've never sought advice from anyone on parenting, nor do I offer parenting advice to others unless I'm explicitly asked for it.  But there have been two occasions where I've come across wisdom that has struck me as so insightful that I applied it to my interactions with my daughters.

I've written about one recently where I learned the value of praising children for effort instead of praising them for "being so smart," as parents are wont to do.  The second instance was when I read about some father (perhaps an historic figure, I can't really remember) who, instead of asking his child at the end of every day how many questions he answered at school, was more interested in knowing what kind of questions he asked.

Recently my daughter has asked me some surprisingly probing questions.  Yesterday, she asked whether there was still slavery in Egypt (think: pyramids), and then followed up with, "How did the slavery end?"  That was a question I had never considered myself, and I had no answer.  This morning she asked where people came from.  At first my wife and I stuttered and stalled, thinking that we were heading down the path of birds and bees.  But no.  When we eventually got around to the standard story that she "popped out of mommy's tummy," she clarified her question, by saying, "No, no.  I mean, you know there are trees and animals on earth.  Where did people come from?"  This was a question for which I did have a clue, but my answer was totally inadequate.  I mumbled something about bacteria and fish and amphibians and monkeys, but I totally botched it before mercifully changing the subject.  For someone so proud of his parenting skills, this wasn't a shining moment as father, that's for sure.

Hats, headgear, headwraps, and headdresses

I am responsible for leading weekly assemblies at my elementary school that are designed around teaching students and staff about cultural diversity.  In the wake of the killing of Osama bin Laden, I worried anew about whether young children were associating Muslim garb with terrorists.  I wanted to somehow touch upon this subject matter in my assembly, but had a difficult time figuring out how to do it in a sensitive, age-appropriate fashion.  Finally, I came up with the idea of designing a presentation around hats and headgear.

My first slide showed traditional American headgear like baseball caps, straw hats, cowboy hats, and the like.  I then followed with a slide of Americans wearing less familiar headgear like a Jewish kippah, an African-American headwrap, a Sikh turban, and a Muslim hijab.  My approach succeeded beyond my expectations.  One girl excitedly shared that she sees many people with hijabs when she goes to Costco.  Another student mentioned that she remembered seeing many people with hijabs when she and her family lived in Kosovo.  Yet another mentioned that his neighbors wore turbans.  I felt a tremendous satisfaction in knowing that I was able to provide these children an important context for the observations they make in their daily lives.

Teacher-Student Ratios

Our school board is entrenched in a stalemate over how to balance our district's budget.  One way of referring to laying off teachers is instead to talk about "increasing class sizes."  For example, our district has calculated that increasing class sizes "by one student" would equate to 35.5 teaching positions.  (This, to be clear, is merely one line item on a longer list of measures that result in 120 teaching positions lost in total.)

I had an interesting experience the other day in a 1st grade classroom.  I was there just to observe.  (Part of the duty of a principal is to be present in classrooms enough to be able to provide constructive feedback to teachers on instructional improvement.)  Part of observing is to also interact with students to make sure that they are understanding the purpose of a lesson, and so I started speaking with one particular boy who was mostly off-task.  Because this student was so distractible, I ended up parking myself right next to him for the duration of my "observation," trying to keep him on task.  In education parlance, the student was experiencing a "1:1 teacher student ratio."  And yet I found it impossible to keep him completely focused for the 15 minutes that I was present.

Teaching is a difficult job that can't be described in terms of simple ratios.  If I, devoting 100% of my attention, struggled to keep one boy focused for just 15 minutes, then one can imagine the challenge that this particular 1st grade teacher faces on a day to day basis.  (And oh, incidentally, there are two other boys in her class that are just as challenging as the one I was working with.)  When I become an administrator, it will be essential for me to forever keep this reality fresh in my mind, lest I waltz into a classroom like a consultant and brazenly start dishing out observations and advice to teachers on how they can do their job better.

Maybe I'll apply (ahead of schedule)

A single, open administrative position (an assistant principal) has just been announced in my school district for the next school year.  I am considering applying.

Over the past two months, there has been a fair amount of shuffling of principals and assistant principals, but the process hasn't been opened up to an external field of applicants because the number of downsized administrators has matched the number of retirements.  But with all current administrators "accounted for" for the next school year, this new opening will afford people such as myself an opportunity to compete for an administrative position.

My school district is teeming with people like myself; namely, teachers who have an administrative license and who are waiting for a chance.  I don't have an exact number, but it seems like whenever I attend any district-level meeting, there are other license-holders also there, boosting their resume experience.  I know for a fact that I would be a longshot for the open position.  How do I know?  Because my district-level supervisor told me so yesterday.  Nevertheless, I've received the green light to apply, even though I already occupy one of the most coveted positions in the district (a teacher who is paid full-time just to be mentored by other principals--thanks to a privately funded grant).

I clearly lack the quasi-administrative experience and length of district service that others have.  On the other hand, I've accomplished enough that I can demonstrate superior strengths in certain areas, such as my ability to:  build consensus, energize a staff around an objective, and improve the performance of low-achieving students.  The application deadline isn't too far away, so I will have to decide soon.

Praising kids for the right reasons

I love research or opinions that are unconventional, but which upon reflection make a lot of sense.  I ran across one such work of educational research that I shared via email last week to every staff member of my school.  The piece is entitled, "The Praise Paradox," and it resonated with a great many of my colleagues.  The authors posit that habitually praising children for being "smart" (even if they really are smart) sets them up for trouble down the line.  Instead, as parents and teachers we ought to applaud children for effort:

“Emphasizing effort gives a child a variable that they can control,” she explains. “They come to see themselves as in control of their success. Emphasizing natural intelligence takes it out of the child’s control, and it provides no good recipe for responding to a failure.”

There's real insight in this work, and I find myself interacting with my own children at home in a different manner as a result.

On the death of bin-Laden

I heard the news of bin-Laden's death after walking out of a community event yesterday, and getting into my car to drive home.  My sense of joy was irrepressible.  I'm a person that hardly talks even to my next door neighbors, but yesterday evening I found myself rolling down my car window asking complete strangers whether they had "heard the news".  I talked to a gas station attendant about it too--somehow there was an immediate connection between the two of us.

This morning as I sat down at my office desk at school, however, I felt compelled to send an email to my school staff.  It read as follows:

Just a quick note about yesterday's news about bin-Laden.  To the degree that the news is discussed or touched upon in the classroom, please go out of your way to make sure that any Arabic, Persian, or Muslim students aren't made to feel uncomfortable.  

I remember when I was in high school back in the 80's, Japanese corporations were perceived/portrayed as the enemy of the United States, and I felt very insecure whenever the topic would come up in my classes.  I'm sure some of our Muslim students may feel the same way.  

But back to my private thoughts--what wonderful news!  I read in one account that there was a helicopter malfunction that occurred as part of yesterday's military operation.  I don't believe in a god, but upon hearing that bit of information, I prayed to god in thanks that it didn't end in the same way as President Carter's tragic hostage rescue attempt in Iran back in 1980.  Such an error in execution would have been a death knell to the Obama administration, and the impact would have been unthinkably horrible and lasting.

"Loud, boisterous, in-your-face"

"Fox News Latino"?  The dissonance almost hurts the ears.  But Fox News does indeed host such a website, and I have to give them some credit--I read a short news piece there that was reassuring and energizing. 

Justice Sotomayor returned to her alma mater Princeton University and spoke to an audience of 1400 female alumni.  During the conversation, she apparently described herself (using the terms in the title of this entry) as most similar in temperament to Antonin Scalia.  And thank goodness!!  The progressive-liberal wing of the Supreme Court has so needed a voice like hers.  When I voted for President Obama, what I wanted most was strong stewardship over any Supreme Court vacancies that might arise, and on that he has fully delivered. 

First deodorant day of the year

Ever since someone mentioned to me that deodorants contain aluminum, I've avoided using them except when I need them.  (I don't know if aluminum is harmful, but it just sounds weird.)  Nevertheless, with the amount of person-to-person contact involved in teaching, you simply can't afford to have smelly armpits.  And so, I always have a roll with me in my backpack.  Today was the first time this year that I needed to pull it out. 

It was partly due to the fair weather, but also due to having to operate "under the clock" for most of the day.  On Fridays, I am responsible for facilitating five separate, ten-minute assemblies, one for each grade level at the elementary school where I receive training.  Managing available time and space in a school building is more complex than what you might imagine.  Today I shuttled back and forth among three different assembly locations, sometimes with less than a minute to spare to get from one place to another AND set up my audio-visual equipment. 

The singular objective of this assembly series is to teach children to appreciate cultural, racial, and ethnic diversity.  In my presentation today, I introduced the terms "Latino" and "Latino culture" to the children through Ballet Folklorico, a gorgeous and visually appealing style of dance.  I also showed an equally engaging clip of Square Dancing, which of course is a European and American style of folk dance.  The students are just thirsting for this kind of learning.  As I've mentioned previously, the over-sensitivity among grownups towards the topic of race is leaving children thoroughly confused and vulnerable.  To adequately convey this kind of knowledge on a schedule of ten minutes per week is a challenge, especially when what is appropriate for fifth graders is not necessarily so for first graders.  But I relish the opportunity, and feel I am just the right person for the job. 

Darned plastic grocery bag!

We have a beautiful view out the back windows of our home.  Since we live right at the edge of a recently developed complex, we happen to look out on a farming/orchard property.  For over a month now, however, our view has been marred by an ugly Dollar Tree plastic bag that had somehow floated into our neighbor's back yard and ended up stuck, hanging from a tree branch.  We have wonderful neighbors (I assume they're wonderful, anyway), so I was sure they'd spend the five seconds it would take to walk out to their backyard, reach up and grab it.  But days.. then weeks.. went by and nothing happened.  They even mowed their lawn during the span.

Meanwhile, seeing the little plastic bag hanging there day after day began to increasingly feel like underwear that was uncomfortably stuck up my crotch.  And to take the analogy a little further, in the same way that you just can't suddenly reach down into your pants and adjust your boxers when you're in public, a hanging bag didn't seem to rise to a level that justified a neighborly visit either.

Well, in the true American spirit, I took the law into my own hands this morning.  As I was out walking my dog this morning along the sidewalk that runs behind our homes, I brought with me a long wooden pole.  And reaching over their back, brick wall, I poked, twisted, and tugged the damned plastic bag out of the tree.  It took multiple attempts, and the weathered bag shredded into stubborn polyethylene strips, but I got that sucker.  And unless my neighbors were peeking out their back windows at 6:45 this morning, I did it without affecting our orderly, suburban, neighborly relations.  It was a great start to my day!

My secret love--teaching math

Today I found just enough space in my schedule to escape from my usual administrative responsibilities and projects to teach math.  I am awesomely good at teaching math.  Back when I was just starting out as an administrative intern and had more flexibility, I would often sneak into math classrooms with substitute teachers, and just take over the class.  My reward is always the same--the disoriented look on kids faces when they realize (for the first time since forever) that they too can understand math.  I love that look. 

This morning I asked one of my math teacher friends to give me ten of his most clueless students.  We all trooped over to an available portable, and went step-by-step through the questions on a worksheet.  In a situation like this, I look and sound more like a basketball coach running drills on the full-court press.  Contrary to all that is nouveau in educational research, my style is very teacher-centered.  And instead of taking a holistic approach, I execute upon a strategy that is focused like a laser on the steps at hand.  By the end of the hour the kids were so proud of themselves.

True story:  at the end of last school year, I talked to my principal and asked if I could be a math teacher.  (I had been a special educator all my career.)  She shook her head and replied, "No school would want to hire you because you're not 'highly qualified' to teach math," referring to state licensing requirements.  I wasn't willing to spend what little money my family had on taking coursework on a topic that I was already a self-made expert on.  Over months, one thought led to another, and here I am now on a course to a principalship.

The irony is that if it weren't for some inane, bureaucratic state regulations, my teaching career would have entered a whole new second life.  But no worries, once I become a principal, I'll be able to sneak into any math class I please.

My clutch performance

It took five years, but last week I finally found myself in an actual working meeting with our school district's superintendent.  My ticket, so to speak, was my new status as a quasi-administrator, which allowed me to be an observer in a meeting that consisted of some 20 important people.  But anyone who knows me knows that I never just observe--I always end up contributing something, for better or for worse.  I'm irrepressible that way.

In this case, I'm proud to say that my single contribution to the meeting was something akin to a minor leaguer being called up for his first major league game, sitting on the bench until the bottom of the ninth, appearing at the plate as a pinch-hitter for his first at-bat, and smashing a game-winning home run.  Of course, I am prone to strike out on three pitches at times, but as far as my superintendent is concerned, I am clutch.

Details?  Unfortunately, I was explicitly instructed by my supervisor that the entire meeting and all meetings like it are sensitive and confidential in nature.  With a warning like that, even blogger anonymity isn't cover enough.  Though this entry may mean nothing to anyone else in the world, for me it's the preservation of a sweet moment of triumph.

Reflecting on my visit to prison

A riot broke out in our state's penitentiary yesterday with the resulting lockdown still in effect as I write this.  I have a mild interest in this news story because I recently met 20 or so young men who are incarcerated there, most with life sentences.  The occasion was a school field trip, and I was one of the chaperones.  

Part of what makes public education such a noble enterprise is that as a system we insist on providing an education to all students, even to those that some might call "the worst of the lot."  All school principals (especially at the middle and high school levels) must on occasion be prepared to expel students, and my school district has a special campus consisting of four or five portable structures that serve as an alternate school site for them.  As an administrative trainee, I had the opportunity last month to accompany a small group of these teen-aged students on an hour long drive down to the penitentiary.

Surprisingly and unexpectedly (to me), we were able to meet with a group of inmates face to face, handshake to handshake, without any walls, windows, or escorts separating us.  I say "meet," but in fact "mingle" may even be the more apt description.  These were all young men who (in stark contrast to the horrible choices they made earlier in their lives) have somehow managed to carve out a niche of humanity and purpose out of prison life.  Their purpose: to speak with troubled youth and motivate them to make something positive out of their lives and avoid ending up where they unfortunately have.  Honestly, they remind me of the collection of characters from the film, The Shawshank Redemption.

My purpose isn't at all to engender sympathy for these men.  I am simply reflecting on what I observed and felt that night.  And the students?  I hope I am wrong, but I don't believe this visit was any sort of turning point in their lives.  They are so deeply mired in a rut that I am not confident that they even have the wherewithal to grab onto a hand that is offering to pull them up.  Before these kids failed themselves, they were failed by their parents first, and then failed by an uncompromising school system. 

Odd how in the same entry, I have described public schools as both "noble" and "uncompromising."  I suppose it's true that two sentiments that are opposed to each other can be equally true.

Where were you 27 years ago?

Lately I am all over anything the Karate Kid.  First, let's get one thing out of the way: one of the best movies ever.  But even if you don't agree, you must check out this "movie trailer" from FunnyOrDie.com.  It's been around for some time now (over 2 million hits), and it will re-kindle your heart guaranteed, all the way back to the glory days of 1984 when the PG classic first hit the screens.  (Wow.  27 years.)

To emphasize my point, I also checked out the "Special Edition" DVD of the movie from my library--just to see the awesome collection of special features.  I often love viewing the "behind the scenes" mini-documentaries about movies as much as the films themselves, and "the making of" featurette for the Karate Kid comes in not one, not two, but four parts.  Movie lovers paradise!

Incidentally, the director of the Karate Kid, John G. Avildsen, also directed Rocky.  That'll be my guilty pleasure for next week. 

Actual quote: "It's not yoga, it's weight loss yoga"

I have managed to utterly shock my wife.  For over a week now, I have been exercising every morning to a workout video.  There were about 50 exercise DVD's at my local library, and I checked out the only one that had some males on the cover.  (I was NOT going to spend the first 30 minutes of my every day focusing on women in leotards...)  If you must know, the title is "The Biggest Loser: The Workout: Weight Loss Yoga."

Exercising for the first time in my life has been about four months in the making.  You see, over the last Christmas holiday, I gained close to ten pounds--probably ten pounds in chocolate.  No problem, I've always lost weight pretty easily as a matter of course.  But for some reason (aging) that didn't happen this time.  What's more, I didn't start shedding any weight once I began my new role as an administrator-in-training either, and that was a real surprise.

As a teacher, I was fairly sedentary, spending a lot of time teaching from my desk, or at most rotating around my classroom space.  Once I became an administrator type in January, however, I was required to walk almost constantly:  up and down the halls, to and from various classrooms, even eating lunch standing up as I supervised lunch duty!  I was convinced that a return to my former weight would occur in the blink of an eye under these circumstances, and yet it didn't happen.  Apparently my extra Christmas weight has a personality of its own, and it is stubborn.

After one week, I still don't get the "weight loss" part of the "Weight Loss Yoga" title.  But I have to say that I am actually appreciating this addition to my morning routine.  My wife didn't think I would actually even pop the DVD into our machine, much less continue for any consecutive days, but I've shown her wrong.  And best of all, just today she was inspired by me enough to revisit the yoga DVD that she actually owns and used to use regularly.  Only leotards in her version, so I'll just stick with my own.

Sadly, there are some f*ck ups

Last Friday afternoon as I pulled out of my school parking lot to head home for the weekend, I flipped on the radio to my sports talk station of choice and was horrified to stumble into the middle of a call-in segment that consisted of teachers lining up to explain to the hosts how theirs was the easiest teaching gig in public education.  Since there is so little sports talk programming to be found in my town, I am thankful for whatever little I can get--but upon realizing what I was listening to, my initial reaction was rage and a pledge to declare good riddance to the station forever.

I calmed down and persisted.  But two days later as I write this, I still can't believe the utter idiocy and shamelessness of teachers who would actually call into a radio program and brag about being such losers.  One spoke of simply handing out worksheets all day to their kids.  Another clown pointed towards art teachers as having the easiest job when in fact the opposite is closer to the truth.  (Art teachers regularly have the most challenging students placed or even "dumped" into their classrooms.)

I only caught the last 15 minutes of the segment, and it verged on humiliation, but I took my lumps.  Unfortunately, there are a small number of f*ck ups that somehow end up teaching kids, and SHAME ON the school principals and school district HR personnel that allow it to happen.  I have taught in three different schools over a twelve year period, and I am happy to say that I have never come across such dysfunction and immorality.

Teachers are amazing people.  They are far more worthy of praise than what is being afforded to them in the current political climate.  It is infuriating how a tiny number of societal slugs that somehow manage to job the system stain the reputation of the rest of us.

Chicken noodle soup

Yesterday, I was bragging to a colleague that I have not had to call in sick this entire school year.  In fact, my entire family has enjoyed a cold-free year.  But clearly you must already know where this post leads:  just today I started suffering from some kind of bug.  It started with congestion, which could easily be due to allergies.  But it morphed into body aches and fatigue rather quickly.  My wife (love her) made some homemade chicken soup stock for me.  (With chicken bones, of course--the only way to do it, if you ask me.)

I went to bed right away after coming home this afternoon, which explains why I'm up at 2:00 in the morning blogging.  I must be well enough to go to work tomorrow, as I am facilitating a school's first assembly on cultural diversity (or cultural competency, as is the phrase du jour).  After sleeping through the entire evening, it's time now to see if I can coax some additional hours of rest, and be ready for the new day.  I think I'm feeling better--thank goodness for homemade soup!

More proof that men and women are different

I am married to my wife.  Which is to say that I see her every day.  So how does it happen that I'm not able to notice when she gets a haircut, but when we go to a parent teacher conference at my daughter's school (as we did today) the teacher compliments my wife right away on her "new haircut"?  I am fortunate to be married to someone who doesn't take such things against me.

We thoroughly enjoyed our conversation with our daughter's teacher, by the way.  I have nothing but positive associations with schools, whereas my wife looks back at her early childhood schooling with much pain.  My wife used to be very anxious when it came to parent conferences--it took some time for me to understand the deep-seated impact of her past experiences.  Happily, my daughter has led the way forward with one sparkling conference after another, and mom and dad are all smiles.  Of course, noticing new haircuts also helps.

Fixing a faulty sensor in my mind

Of late, I am coming to understand that I have a cognitive flaw that will limit my ability to accumulate social capital among the movers and shakers of my school district.  Put simply, I am not able to sink my teeth into details.

I've actively participated in a wide spectrum of school- and district-level meetings, committees, and task forces.  And as we are wont to do in public education, we spend considerable time developing action plans, policy language, and vision statements.  I believe I have a skill when it comes to understanding the essence of a matter, or grasping the elusive, key insight that allows a group to take an important step back and see the larger picture.  But during the meaty 80% of meetings when bullet points are dissected and smaller dots are connected to form meaningful threads, my mind begins to glaze over and wander.

I am also not proud to admit that this phenomenon occurs with regularity when I am engaged in one-to-one conversations with colleagues as well.  My wife once compared her mind to a hard drive, and declared that she habitually avoids cluttering it with unimportant information.  I do the same except that my mental "importance sensor" is flaky.  I need to get some maintenance done on it as soon as I can.

Trying to belong

As an administrative intern, I am now allowed to participate in the adminstrators-only meeting that occurs every week in our principal's office.  As I sit through these meetings (which last about an hour), my mind is tugged in two opposite directions.  First, there is certainly a moderate thrill involved in being privy to information and discussions that were previously off-limits, so to speak.  But on the other hand, I feel an internal sense of awkwardness and un-belonging, especially when it comes to understanding the conversation norms of the team.

Specifically, I haven't been able to figure out when they are being serious or joking.  The topic might be the "importance" of an upcoming meeting, an assessment of whether a plan "worked" or not, or the contributions of a particular "someone".  Sometimes they are sincere, sometimes they are sarcastic, and I often find myself unable to tell the difference.  I focus hard on their facial expressions and tone of voice (much like the way my family dog looks at me when I speak to him) but it doesn't much help me.

None of this is a commentary on the value of the conversations--for an aspiring principal, these meetings are rich with information and insight.  And these (now) colleagues of mine have been nothing but generous in mentoring me.  I will only know that I've ascended to another plane when I, too, am able to offer an adequate joke about coffee, which is what they always do before these meetings start.

Ready or not? Not yet.

I can't help at the end of every day taking a snapshot self-assessment of my readiness to be a principal.  My feelings swing wildly and day-to-day, between "I'm ready and so good to get going" and "You have no clue what you're getting into, do you?"  It's as if my confident, unrefined side is locked in a Greco-Roman grip with my rational, risk-averse one.  In a nutshell, I have the raw skills, but I don't have nearly enough knowledge. 

For example, today I spent a day with a mentor principal at an elementary school site.  A discussion she had with the school nurse underlined my greatest fear about becoming a school leader.  At a specific level, it is the fear of a student getting seriously injured during the school day, and at a more general level, it is my worry that I may not make the right decisions in a time of immediate crisis.  We talked about medical treatment training, student health reports, preparedness for severe allergic reactions, 911 calls, and more.  It was enough to scare me into logging onto our school district's professional development portal, and signing myself up for every type of medical and safety related training that was available.  I am so not ready yet to be a principal!

My Assistant Teacher

Although I am training to become an administrator, I am holding on to one classroom assignment--I teach one period of Japanese, three days a week.  Formally teaching the language is a completely new experience for me as a teacher.  It makes all the difference in the world that these students requested to be in the class, as opposed to being scheduled into the class on some other basis.  My classroom is packed to the brim with students, but without exception they sit through each class with wide eyes and anticipation.

I've taken the approach up front with them that I have no other objective than to make the class fun for them.  (I even close each class by asking, "Did you all have fun today?")  I tell them that there won't be any graded tests, per se.  I tell them that any homework assignment I offer them will be completely optional.  When we are doing handwriting activities, I tell them to write as much or as little as they want.  And the amazing thing is that the students just gobble everything up.  By requiring (or challenging) them to be self-motivated, they are rising to the top.  I have never seen a class where every student WANTS homework, and yet, this is the phenomenon I see from my students.  They are a special, delightful bunch of kids.

The other evening, I asked my first grade daughter if she would be interested in grading my students' handwriting assignments.  (She knows Japanese fairly well for an American kid.)  And she accepted the invitation with a surprising degree of zeal!  Yesterday, I arrived home very late because of an evening class, and as I walked through the door, she came thundering down the stairs demanding a stack of papers to grade.  It was past nine o'clock, but she went straight to her desk with the papers I handed to her, a red grading pencil, and got down to work.  My students enjoy the fact that my daughter is taking this kind of interest in their work.  So am I--hopefully her interest will last for awhile.

We adults need to decide already

Today I spent the better portion of my day trying to untangle the circumstances surrounding a classroom incident where some 2nd graders told a classmate that he/she wasn't allowed to come to school anymore because he/she was black.  Without going into specifics, one of the interesting aspects was that the targeted student wasn't even black.  It is also relevant that only minutes before, the class had just finished reading two children's books about the life of Martin Luther King.

As I mentally synthesize 1) my conversations today with students, parents, and teachers, 2) the illustrations and text of the two MLK books, and 3) my own recent diversity training experience, I come away with one unmistakable conclusion:  we adults need to get our collective act together when it comes to talking about race.  All of the confusion, hypersensitivity, and avoidance surrounding the topic and language of race that exists in the adult world, is trickling down to blameless children, leaving them in a state of bewilderment and insecurity.  

For the purposes of this entry, I want to focus on one simple question:  can we adults decide whether we are comfortable with the terms "black" and "white"?  On the one hand, one of the MLK books referred to "white kids" and "black kids" throughout.  My diversity training (which was facilitated by a black man) purposefully referred to races, cultures, and people as "black" and "white".  Many adults are comfortable with the terminology.  On the other hand, many adults of various skin colors are decidedly UNcomfortable with those terms and go out of their way to use the somehow-more-appropriate sounding "African-American" and "Caucasian".  The second of the MLK books only referred to "African-Americans".  On top of all this, I have never witnessed a teacher or parent even attempt to sit down with children and actually match visual images of people with their correct racial identity--we are all afraid or uncomfortable to do so.

Do you see the problem here?  As early as kindergarten, children are learning about "black history month" and Martin Luther King--my first grade child has already learned about slavery.  We talk in blithe, general terms like "color of our skin" and "colorblind".  And yet none of us are taking the time to explain to children what black, white, brown, African-American, Caucasian, Latino, Mexican, Hispanic, Asian-American, and even "American" mean.  And it's only because we as adults are not willing to have a dialogue among ourselves about the topic.  It is no wonder that in a society that is obsessed about race, our children have no idea what "race" even means.

On behalf of the entire grown up world, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of regret and shame for each of the children I spoke with today.

What does it take to become a first-time director?

This week I borrowed from our local library a copy of "Whip It" which was Drew Barrymore's directorial debut film about roller derby girls.  (I enjoyed seeing the movie before--I'm a real sucker for feel-good movies.)  With the DVD sitting in the passenger seat of my car as I was driving home, I began wondering how difficult it was for Barrymore to convince some risk averse studio to hire her as a first-time director.  After all, at some point in the future, I am hoping that some school will take a chance on me as a first-time administrator.

I wasn't able to uncover anything juicy on the internet about Barrymore's selection as director.  But I did find this snippet from an interview of her by filmindependent.org:

Interviewer:  Since you were one of the producers on it, whom did you have to convince about hiring you as the director?

Barrymore:  We ended up doing it with Mandate Pictures, which is a finance company. I gave them my pitch and my vision. Nan and I believe in doing the homework. I told Mandate, ‘this is where I see it visually...and the economics of what I need to make the movie.' You have to be able to back yourself up and explain everything. You can't just go in there and say ‘I want to direct this.' As a producer I always like to think that the director must keep their promises.

If I were to make any analogies to being hired as a school principal:  1) have a compelling vision, and 2) be able to articulate it down to its minutest components.

The challenge of impacting Latino students

Race has been at the front of my mind lately.  Today I reflected on my interactions with students of color at my own school setting and wondered why it is that I am more confident in the effectiveness of my approach with African-American students, and less so with Latino students.  Is it a cultural?  In terms of the neighborhood demographics of my school, I have more in common with African-Americans when it comes to such interests as television, sports, media, shopping and the like.  Is it a matter of language?  African-American families would have a general advantage (in terms of relating with me) over families that spoke Spanish as a first language.

But no.  I realized that the gap in my confidence has little to do with the above, and far more to do with a simpler concept:  numbers.  There are only ten to twenty African-American students in my school.  On the other hand, there are hundreds of Latino students.  If I could focus my energy on developing a strategy to help African-American students, I could do it, because even as one individual, I could make the time to establish a personal relationship with each student.  But if I were tasked with improving the school experience for Latino students, I wouldn't know where to start.

And so, I experienced something of an epiphany.  No matter how effective I might be as a one-on-one educator, I will not become a transcendent principal unless I develop the skills to motivate an entire school staff to buy into a shared vision about students of color.  I can impact students one at a time, but in a school of hundreds, that will not "get the job done."  I will need the help of many others.

Part of me resists accepting over-used phrases like "systemic change" and "leadership," but today I feel more open to those concepts.

Kids vs. Content

There is a common stereotype in education that elementary school teachers "love their kids," and high school teachers "love their content."  I was talking about this with a colleague this morning, and she asked, "Why couldn't it be both?"

In truth, the stereotypes are probably something of a myth.  I spent a whole morning at an elementary school, observing a three-hour long staff development activity focused around improving children's writing skills.  I must say that I was surprised by the intensity and technicality of the teachers' discussions, even down to the kindergarten teachers.  Love their kids?  Absolutely they do.  But to say they don't take writing instruction seriously would be an insult.

The last I taught in a high school setting was 2005, and even then I had little to no visibility into high school classrooms because I taught a self-contained classroom for special needs students.  Though I'm sure high school teachers are passionate about what they teach, I would imagine they would be downright indignant if anyone were to suggest they didn't care for their students either.

Some might argue that stereotypes exist for a reason.  But I'm going to do my part to put this particular one to permanent rest.

Keeping kids safe

After two days' worth of group discussion on the impact of race in school settings, this morning I attended a presentation on how children and teens use internet and cell phone technology to bully others, a depressing societal trend known as cyber-bullying.  Taken in succession, the topics feel like a one-two punch to the gut. 

On the other hand, as I dusted myself off and returned to the work of being an educator, I couldn't help but look at every single child with an overwhelming desire to protect and uplift him or her with every loving fiber of my being.  The social stresses on children of all ages is unprecedented, and so is the need for educators to invest the time and effort to build individual connections with them. 

Diversity Training (Day 2)

There was a palpably lower level of energy flowing through the conference room as we wrapped up our second and final day of diversity training yesterday.  Dialogue of this nature is difficult to sustain for too long, before it begins to feel tiresome for everyone.

Today I reflect upon the notion that there is a certain amount of risk you take in trying to summarize lessons learned on a sensitive topic like race.  A summary by its very nature, sacrifices context for details, and race can't be discussed in a constructive manner unless the context is thoughtfully and deliberately conveyed.  The tone of my previous entry that described my thoughts on "Day 1" were honest, but strident and coarse--perhaps too raw.  I didn't think that was the case at the time, but they were.  And so I have gone back and edited my wording, softening its tone considerably. 

As a future school leader, I should remember that 1) passion can some times undermine you, and 2) if there may be a time when a colleague regrets something he said to me or the manner in which he said it, I should honor his sincerity.

Diversity Training (Day 1)

Today I participated in a full day of regional diversity training, with another full day tomorrow.  By "regional" I mean to say that participants were drawn from across many school districts in our metropolitan vicinity.

I've long been active in my district's formal and informal efforts to promote equity in our schools--but it is a role that can often feel exhausting.  This is primarily because it is difficult in my district (as in every district in my state) to find many educators who are people of color.  The experience of growing up black or brown in the United States can not be fully understood by someone from a Caucasian background.  And so although a vast majority of educators are sympathetic to the challenges facing students of color, sympathies alone are not enough to promote the needed systemic change. 

Today's training involved packing what must have been about 200 educators into a large conference room. Minority educators such as myself accounted for about twenty of the total.  The facilitator was simply excellent--far exceeding the low expectations I brought with me into my car as I pulled out of my driveway this morning.  On the other hand, the audience was far too large, and the ratio of minorities to non-minorities far too small for meaningful dialogue to occur.  And race is a topic that cries out for deep, honest dialogue.

Here are a couple of important concepts that I learned or of which I was reminded:

• When children of color enter a school, they are entering an environment that is alien to them culturally.  Therefore, it is imperative for us as educators to do what we can to help them feel welcomed and valued.  
• The concept of "assimilation" is not necessarily neutral in its connotation.  For immigrants and families of color, assimilation means having to say good bye to most or all of their native culture, especially their language.  This is because assimilation isn't fully realized until the dominant culture finally accepts you as such.  
• Children of color walk a complex and harrowing line that runs between their family culture and the culture of schools which were designed around the value system of a majority Caucasian populace.  Successfully navigating back and forth between the two cultures is a skill that somehow must be taught explicitly.  (How that teaching can happen in schools, I don't know.)  

 More after day 2 tomorrow!

The little reasons to love someone

I like the sweetness of moments when I curiously appreciate for the first time an otherwise insignificant detail in my relationship with my wife.  Think Harry telling Sally: 

I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out, I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich, I love when you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts, I love that after I've spent the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. 

Tonight it occurred to me that my wife always lets me be the one to select movies for us to watch at home.  When we visit our local library, my wife is only concerned about loading up our children with wholesome books to read.  Me, on the other hand, I'm always heading straight to the "New Release Video" section, hoping to find some gem.  (More often than not, there isn't one.) 

It's not that my wife doesn't care to be entertained.  I think she just doesn't care to expend the effort it takes to stay on top of what's hot in Hollywood.  The truth is, neither do I.  We're both woefully out of touch with anything to do with trends in music, TV, and movies.  My knowledge of movies is only gleaned in accidental fashion when an entertainment headline manages to squeeze its way into the hardcore news sites that I frequent. 

But back to my wife, she simply trusts me whenever I tell her, "Hey, I got a great movie for us!  I don't know what it's about, but the critics said good things about it!"  Tonight we watched the library copy of "Crazy Heart."  What a lovely movie--the kind you wished was an extra hour longer so that compressed plot points at the end of the film could be explored in more detail.  And we were both drawn to the tender, human qualities of the movie's original songs.  I reserved the CD soundtrack on our library's website just now, in fact. 

I love my wife--she lets me drive the car, she lets me pick the movies. 

How Slavery Really Ended in America

That is the title of a six web-page article from the New York Times, written by Adam Goodheart and adapted from his just published book, "1861: The Civil War Awakening."  I am thankful for its provocative title, which I saw on my Google News page--otherwise I probably would not have taken the time to read it.

Reading the article surprised me in the sense that it undermined my self-perception as a lover of history.  There were some simple realities about the Civil War that Goodheart brings up which caused me to cock my head to the side and say to myself, "Wait.  Why didn't I know that already?"  For example, we all know in a general sense that the Emancipation Proclamation "freed the slaves."  But what does that mean?  For starters, it means that prior to the Proclamation, slaves weren't free--even after the onset of war with the South.  So in the early stages of the Civil War, what was a Union military camp to do if a slave wandered onto its compound, asking for freedom?  That is the intriguing true-to-history scenario about which Goodheart writes.

At one point Goodheart writes:

True, the laws of the United States were clear: all fugitives must be returned to their masters. The founding fathers enshrined this in the Constitution; Congress reinforced it in 1850 with the Fugitive Slave Act; and it was still the law of the land — including, as far as the federal government was concerned, within the so-called Confederate states.

The Civil War era isn't particularly an area of interest to me, but I do remember those basic facts--the founding fathers support of slavery, the Fugitive Slave Act, the Emancipation Proclamation.  But I remember them in isolation from one another.  Goodheart's article caused me to shake my head in disappointment at myself that the synthesis of those concepts and events weren't properly ingrained in my personal historical base of knowledge.  If they had been, I wouldn't have been so surprised that an escaped slave presented such a complex conundrum for a Union general.