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.