School Signs

What does buying a car have to do with a school district’s mission and public relations?

A weary odometer and the beleaguered groans of my Subaru Forester convinced me it was time to buy a new car. I was approaching retirement and opted to reward myself by upgrading to an Outback, Subaru’s premium vehicle. I visited the local dealership, the one I drove by ever day on my route to school.

The large sign at the front of the dealership proclaimed SUBARU, though the vehicles that lined the entrance were products of a variety of domestic manufacturers, from a used Corvette to a couple of different pick-up trucks. I would later learn this collection included loaner cars as well.

An all too eager salesperson greeted me outside before I was halfway to the showroom. After I expressed my interest in a new Outback, he shepherded me past the four rows of used Subaru cars on the side of the building, along a gravel path and through some mud as we made our way up the slope to the rear of the building to the shiny new vehicles, and finally to their most expensive model, the Outback (since surpassed in price by the Ascent since this blog was generated). He apologetically explained that the construction on the new showroom consumed the former lot and displaced the new cars until the transition from old building to new building was completed.

I decided to buy a new Outback at the next closest Subaru dealership. Not long after, the dealership I originally visited announced they were operating under new ownership. Within weeks the transformation was complete. New Subarus were featured in the front rows, used Subarus followed, and loaners and domestic used cars were at the back end – a pattern aligned with the business they were in – selling new Subaru vehicles.

What does this have to do with schools?

If I drove twenty-five miles east of my house I would cross the attendance areas of four different school districts. Interestingly, each of these school systems mark their boundaries with prominently located signs on the main arteries weaving through the community proudly noting the athletic accomplishments of their respective districts. The first district greets people with a sign pointing out their state Football championships (4); the second district lists state titles in Baseball (3), Softball (2), and Cross-Country (7); continuing eastward and drivers will learn that the next district earned state championships in Field Hockey (2); and finally, the fourth school district boasts state titles in Ice Hockey (1) and Cross-Country (22). The sum of these signs reveals great athletic achievements in the region. Congratulations are in order for the coaches, athletes and supporters of these teams in their pursuit of excellence.

The National Association of Secondary School Principals and others have long noted the positive link between participation in sports (and extracurricular activities in general) with success as measured in grade point average, attendance patterns, behavior in school, and college aspirations.

What are you advertising? What are you selling?

At a time when public schools are under siege by conservative fiscal practices at the national and state levels, well-intentioned but often misguided policy makers, expanded numbers of Charter schools, private and parochial schools, and an ever-increasing number of children receiving home-instruction – what are we doing to inform our community members and taxpayers to ward off these threats to the future of public schools?  All too frequently, we are erecting signs listing state championships at the entrance to our attendance areas for passers-by to bear witness; and filling up trophy cases in the lobbies of our high schools broadcasting our athletic prowess to visitors. These accomplishments are relatively hollow in the sense that less than one half of the population of a typical secondary school participate in athletics. What about the accomplishments of the non-athletes? Are they not valued merely because they operate outside of the spotlight created by the sports sections of the local newspapers?  Because crowds do not attend math classes and throngs of people fail to show up at science lab demonstrations? Because academic medals and banners are not routinely awarded other than at graduation ceremonies?

Visitors to the high school in Cooperstown, New York cannot enter the campus without noticing the large sign at the entrance that provides data on the attendance rate, achievement levels, and other important data on the outgoing senior class. This sign clearly indicates what the school values and what they represent. This is a much better manner of introduction and a more comprehensive view of their goals. One can easily determine that Cooperstown High School is in the business of teaching and learning.  

What business is pursued at the school where you contribute your time and effort?

Disparate Directions = Desperate Divisions

The chaotic political dynamic in Albany (and many other states wresting with fiscal concerns and policy initiatives - Common Core and Accountability measures) between the Governor and the state legislature (and lobbyists, as well as the constituent groups they represent) routinely inhibits progress because state budget items and formulas differ vastly among the state's 700 school districts. 

- United we stand, divided we fall.

Attitude + Aptitude = Altitude

If altitude, how high you reach in your role at school, is interpreted as your potential, then determining your altitude is the result of the attitude you bring to that equation, plus the aptitude nurtured by your employer via professional development opportunities.

I have always followed the advice of Southwest Airlines, where their human resource department states that they "hire for attitude, and train for altitude." Given the inevitable changes in education - technological, political, economic,... - it does little good to hire someone on the basis of possession of a skill that may be ephemeral and soon replaced by the next new thing. Rather, hire those people who genuinely display the attitude your organization values (cooperation, communication, compassion...), demonstrate a commitment to life-long learning, and exhibit at least average levels of achievement. 

The employer is responsible for cultivating these ingredients in pursuit of individual and organizational success.

Selling and Buying Ideas

In Daniel Pink's great book, To Sell is Human, he asserts that we are all salespeople beyond those we usually associate with selling products. That is, we regularly try to persuade others to buy our ideas in every-day, simple negotiations, from which restaurant to go to, to which movie to watch. Teachers are purveyors of ideas that they attempt to sell to learners on a daily basis, in exchange for the time and energy of the learners.

I believe in Pink's contention of an expanded view of what selling is about. Not just products, but processes as well. If you accept this premise, then I recommend the following two books - 1. Selling the Invisible: a Field Guide to Modern Marketing, by Harry Beckwith. and, 2.  Buy-ology: Truth and Lies about Why We Buy, by Martin Lindstrom.

Beckwith speaks to people who are tasked with selling the abstract -  like life insurance or an education - concepts or experiences that are not something you could touch, see, smell, or hear. Contrast intangibles with something real and present - like a car. You can sit in the car, smell the newness, feel the seats, hear the engine, test drive it and now right away whether or not it's worthy of your investment. You can't see education or life insurance in the moment. These two examples of the intangible are long term in nature and without a score or rank at the end of the day. Beckwith's book is a valuable resource.

Lindstrom offers an interesting read that is replete with examples or summaries of research studies, unburdened by rich detail and endless footnotes. He presents evidence of why and how people are influenced, often times at an unconscious level, prior to making an investment, be it monetary or time.

Combining these three books have served me well in exercising leadership designed to sell education to consumers who will not truly be able to determine the scope and value of a product they have invested in for years to come. If you indulge your professional curiosity you will acquire many practical ideas that can be employed in enlisting people in the mission of a school.

Optometrists, Dentists and ... School Culture and Empowerment?

Most people experience anxiety whenever they are administered routine diagnostic tests by their physician. The fear of having results point toward cancer is a significant contributing factor in the nervousness of patients. How many of us exhibit similar levels of anxiety when visiting their optometrist or dentist? And, what does all this have to do with school culture and empowerment?

Typically, we imagine the most dire prognosis discovered by an optometrist is the need for stronger glasses or, with a dentists, perhaps a new cavity. However, an eye exam from an optometrist can yield information that can hint at diabetes, autoimmune disorders, hypertension, high cholesterol as well as cancer ("Ocular melanoma can develop in the cells that make pigmentation in the eye. Your eye exam can also help detect skin cancer." www.yoursightmatters.com) A dental exam similarly can produce findings pointing toward types of cancer ("A dentist may find some oral cavity and oropharyngeal cancers or pre-cancers during a routine exam." www.cancer.org)

It's not my intention to offer a lecture on health, although it is a good idea to regularly schedule appointments with your dentist and optometrist. Instead, I want to call attention to these medical professions that are often overlooked in the detection and fight against cancer - and draw an analogy with members of a school staff that are likewise discounted when constructing or maintaining the culture of a school (a negative culture can seem like an organizational cancer). 

Terry Deal has written extensively on the subject of organizational culture (most notably his landmark text, Corporate Culture: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate Life). His work is a rich and timeless resource that I can reliably turn to when confronted with an issue of impact regarding the climate of a school. In particular, his book, Managing the Hidden Organization: Strategies for Empowering Your Behind-the-Scenes Employee, offers considerable points of interest in how members of the support staff can be cultivated as key factors in the shape and direction of the school environment. Ignoring or discounting the importance and potential of staff members who are not perceived, by virtue of their status designated by a chart of the school's hierarchy, as contributors to the culture of the school, ensures that the future of the organization will be limited. 

Members of what is commonly referred to as the support staff (kitchen workers, custodians, para-professionals, secretaries, bus drivers...) often have a school-wide set of responsibilities that provide them a view of, or interactions with, potentially all children. As a result, that vantage point supplies valuable insight to the operation of the school. Bus drivers are usually the first and last school staff member to see children each day. Kitchen workers come face-to-face with nearly all children during every meal, extending them an opportunity to see children, in a less formal and guarded setting that can expose the needs and feelings of children. The same can be said of secretaries and monitors and the many other roles that comprise the "Behind-the-Scenes" staff - essential to the function of a school, but too often neglected in terms of their opinions on the school culture.

By tapping the reservoir of all school employees and providing proportionate representation in matters of professional development activities and school decision-making councils,... the school can be enriched through the empowerment of all support staff members.

Investment in Human Infrastructure???

The title of this Blog evolved from an article I found on the internet (see link below) that identified the thirteen college majors in which pay goes nowhere. It is both interesting and ironic that a large number of these majors (human services, social work, child development, special education, elementary education, pastoral ministry) are involved with training people in helping others. The list begs the question of how well our society is investing in the human infrastructure necessary to provide help in developing others and assistance in meeting the needs of others. Are we unconsciously promoting an “every man for himself” and “survival of the fittest” perspective that discounts collaboration and cooperation for the common good?

 Here’s the link and the list:

http://www.msn.com/en-us/money/careerandeducation/13-college-majors-in-which-the-pay-goes-nowhere/ss-BBgcKgS?ocid=DELLDHP#image=14

1. Child Development

2. Human Services

3. Early Childhood and Elementary Education

4. Clinical Laboratory Science

5. Pastoral Ministry

6. Athletic Training

7. Medical Technology

8. Recreation and Leisure Studies

9. Special Education

10. Horticulture

11. Nutrition

12. Social Work

13. Theology      

The Who and The What of Interviews

Our school recently engaged in a search and selection process to fill teaching vacancies for the upcoming school year. We began the task by creating a group of interested, representative  stakeholders who then identified the attitude, skills, and experiences desired in someone joining our school community. That in itself is a deviation from the path often taken by schools seeking to fill openings. Too many interview committees (assuming that the committee isn't comprised solely of administrators) simply dig into the pile of applicants without a consensus on what they are looking for. As the Cheshire Cat advises Alice in Wonderland when she is lost, "If you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there." In such instances, committee members could be distracted in their quest by candidates who were in the same sorority/fraternity, attended the same college, or other intangible points of interest/coincidence, and travel off in a direction away from hiring the right teacher.

Once we reach agreement on what our organizational culture needs, and reflect on what our learners deserve, we used the list of attributes as a map to guide us through the pile of applications. The most important, and revealing, element of the application materials is the cover letter. Resumes all follow a couple of different templates that generally standardize the document and confine information to the "what" of the candidate - college degrees, major area of studies, grade point average, certifications, experience, references... The cover letter, on the other hand, if properly constructed (i.e. not simply a narrative of the resume, which is redundant) can provide interviewers with insight into how the applicant can distinguish him/herself from others. The well-crafted cover letter can explain "who" the applicant is and how they stand out. And, since we value who the person is more than what the person is, as every human service agency should, we are closer to finding the right person to add to our school community. Southwest Airlines claims that they, "Hire for attitude, and train for altitude." If we hire the right person, who "fits" our school culture, we are capable of training them in any area of unfamiliarity or deficiency.

The cover letter offers the applicant an opportunity to market him/herself by supplying how they can add value to the school community, why they are interested in this particular opportunity (we avoid hiring people looking for a job) and how they can maintain their balance while investing in the challenging role of meeting the needs of, and making a difference in, impoverished learners. It is important to note that we are not searching for people who mirror our existing staff, in some cookie cutter fashion. Instead, we want to find someone who can ensure that while we are aligned in our purpose, we are cognizant of the value of diversity in perspective, experience, and practice. 

We begin our interviews with a simple question.

What would you like to tell us about yourself beyond the content of your resume and outside the walls of a classroom? 

That solicitation is followed by:

What is your favorite book or movie?
If you could pick any character from any book or movie you've experienced, who would you like to be, and why?
Can you tell us about your hero/heroes?
If the person who knows you best was writing a book about your life, what would it be entitled, other than your name?
Think of the one best teacher you have ever interacted with - from Kindergarten on - and, without identifying the individual, explain why that person stands out from all the rest.
Recall a struggle or challenge you have faced, and without telling us what it was, describe the manner in which you overcame the obstacle.
What is more important - what you teach, how you teach, or who you teach? (explain your answer)
How do you maintain a balance in your work and life outside of school?

There are other questions intended to find out the values, aspirations, and uniqueness of the candidates. Finally, there are a few questions about classroom management, literacy instruction... that supply us with some of the conventional aspects of teaching. 

The ultimate decision on who we advance in the process to meet with the superintendent emerges out of a discussion among committee members on the fit between the potential of the candidate and the needs of our school/learners.

References are checked with respect to the degree of alignment between what the reference says and how the candidate defined him/herself.

I have been an active participant in hiring over one hundred teachers in my forty-two year leadership career as either a principal and superintendent. I cannot recall the grade point average or college or certification status of any of the people who were hired. But, I can fondly remember how they made children feel and what differences they made in the lives of others.

Tests and Tears

The approach of the state-wide assessments, an unfortunate rite of spring, has brought with it a great deal of unwanted and unnecessary anxiety among staff members and children. Tests that produce tears, stomach aches, or sleepless nights should be questioned.

I have served as an educational leader for forty years. On that basis, I can assert my opinion that tests do not define children. In fact, while tests are used in many different ways, and often determine the path one takes through their schooling, they may not be predictors of success as adults. Maybe the outcome of tests enable some people to experience advantages in the future, such as college entrance or admission to advanced programs, but that is not enough to ensure success. More likely, the assessment of adults in workplaces is viewed through the perception of an individual's ability to communicate, cooperate with others, exhibit dependability, adapt to new situations, display responsibility, and a host of other attitudes and attributes commonly referred to as "soft skills."

Our school will be measured by the state agency of education in large part on the results of tests like the SBAC. Although I do not ignore the data obtained through these tests and others, and we strive to meet our collective potential, I maintain that we cannot allow the facts and figures of these test results to obscure the faces and feelings of the children taking the tests. The mission of our school does not mention anything related to test results. Rather, our mission is: "Provide opportunities for learners of all ages, at all stages, to reach their potential."

Think back to your own favorite teacher... Do you know: What college they attended? What their grade point average was? Whether they had a graduate degree? How they scored on teacher tests required for certification? Probably not. But, I bet you can remember how they made you feel. I'm sure your favorite teacher stood out because of their ability to bring a smile to your face on days when it was hard to smile, their acceptance of you as an individual, their acknowledgement of a new hair style or a lost tooth, the time they took to listen to you, and many other experiences not measured by any timed test.

I believe that the measure of a person is not what can be seen, but what can be felt - and that is what's inside of a person - their level of care, empathy, compassion, tolerance, willingness and ability to listen to opposing views and ideas, determination, acceptance of learning as a life-long experience, commitment to their beliefs, and many other characteristics that define who we are.

I will end this post (which helps define who I am) and step off the soapbox by sharing the following quote attributed to Sir George Pickering (and others):

"Not everything that counts can be counted. Not everything that can be counted, counts."

Think about that as we each face our own tests, be they with paper and pencil in class or challenges at work or at home. What really counts?

Thoughts on a Snow Day

A MESSAGE TO THE LEARNERS OF MOLLY STARK SCHOOL.

There is no school tomorrow, Friday, January 5th due to lousy, terrible, ridiculous weather...

Stay warm and inside if you can. Try to enjoy your weekend. 

Kids, the cold weather should keep you inside. There's a lot to do inside, like - 

Read, 
Play games without batteries or electrical cords, 
Read some more, 
Talk with family members, 
Think about your future, 
Call your grandparents and ask them what they did on snow days without cable TV, cell phones, the internet, or video games, (yes, there was life before all of that)
Draw something and then write about it
Did I already encourage you to read? 
Well, read even more. 
I'll see you Monday, and you can tell me about what you read.

Pushing Beyond the 20% Barrier

Molly Stark Elementary School has fallen short of its collective potential. We are an under-performing school. Test scores bear this point out.

How can we catch up to where we could be, where we need to be, given the restrictions of time and resources? The school year is similar to every other school throughout the state and country - 6.5 hours for each of 180 days in a school year. Our budget is not likely to rise appreciably within the constraints of the local economy.

Furthermore, when you assume that children sleep for 8 hours a day, out of a calendar year of 365 days (365 x 16 = 5,840 hours) and recognize their time in school (6.5 hours x 180 days = 1,170 hours) you find that children are only in school for 20% (1,170/5,840) of their waking hours. This limits our ability to effect a positive and constructive impact on their pursuit of potential.

Our school has developed and initiated significant changes in our infrastructure (master schedule and space allocations) and staff development (curricular focused PD, issue oriented faculty meetings). Beyond these two vital areas, we have sought to extend our reach and expand our influence without tapping our budget or stretching our work day.

Yesterday capped a lengthy process involving three different entities addressing a perceived need - providing access to books to our learners outside of the school hours. Our school, which provides free and reduced meals to 81% of the children, is located across the street from a public housing project that is home to 13% of our learner population. 

We approached the management of the housing project with the idea of building shelves full of books in their community center in the form of a free lending library. They welcomed the possibility.

Our staff began collecting gently used books. We reached out to the Southern Vermont Career and Development Center and asked if their Buildings and Trades department would be willing to accept the task of constructing bookshelves. They readily accepted after an anonymous benefactor of the school supplied the funds for materials.

All of the participating groups were brought together yesterday morning and started stocking the shelves of the lending library. It was exciting to see the crew of carpenters (headed by their teacher - who grew up in the housing project), together with the superintendent of the CDC,  partner with five of our elementary school learners and the reading teacher who spearheaded the collection of books, and join with the director of the housing project to fill the shelves.

We hope to fill the minds of our learners by increasing their access to literature outside of the school day.

Reflecting on Reflection

I retired as a superintendent in New York two years ago. My wife and I moved to another part of the state, along the border with Vermont, after the birth of our only grandchild. Soon thereafter, I accepted the opportunity to resume my school leadership career as a principal in Vermont, just across the border. This enabled me to collect my pension in New York and my salary in Vermont.

I enjoy the return to leadership at the building level, but composing blog entries has been a struggle recently. This dormant period happens to coincide with my acceptance of a the principal's position a year and a half ago. 

The educational alchemist blog originated when I assumed the role of a school superintendent in 2010. I began to pen entries in earnest, offering perspectives on rising issues or simple reflections on daily activities. Entries during that fertile writing period averaged at east four posts a week. There was ample time to indulge in thought. The words surged forth and my fingers danced along keyboard. I enjoyed the exercise of expressing thoughts because it prompted me to examine what I experienced and reconstruct it in words. That introspection nurtured growth.

This weekend was the first time in weeks and weeks that I found, or made, the time to write. Whenever I questioned myself about the absence of posts I mustered several possible reasons, ranging from indifference, laziness, to a general lack of opportunity. I arrived at what I imagine to be the culprit. It was hidden within me, perhaps because I didn't want to confront the matter, perhaps it was due to an apparent simplicity of explanation that might render the reason too easy for the reader to dismiss, particularly if they are a school superintendent. 

That's the point of this blog entry. The daily role of the superintendent usually affords the district leader more time to reflect. While the schedule is cluttered with meetings, many of them (i.e. policy development, strategic planning, budget forecasting...) are focused on a linger view into the future and that proverbial "big picture."  

I never felt that assuming the role of a superintendent endowed me with greater knowledge or insight than I possessed as a principal. Instead, I explained the difference as a matter of a hierarchy of perspectives. That is, when I was a teacher, my view was limited, like someone sitting in a room with a lone window that narrowed the view outside to that single frame. When I became a principal, I found that I now had windows on two sides of the four walls. Therefore, I was able to see things that elude someone restricted to one window. When I became a superintendent, I discovered windows on all four walls. I wasn't any smarter, I just had views (i.e. on personnel, negotiations, budgets...) that was unavailable to most others.

We tend to limit ourselves because the realities of our day obscure our vision and opportunity to reflect. The constant assault of people, needs, conflict... whether it's a teacher contending with 25 learners all day or a principal addressing issues that pop up unexpectedly, like discipline, prevents one from pausing to reflect on our actions and words. There is an expression I learned in Texas that explains the situation - "When you're up to your ass in alligators, it's hard to remember your job was to drain the pool." 

This is not to say that a superintendent is immune from the unanticipated issue or surprising development (and I fully understand from experience that the extent and reach of such problems are deeper and farther), but they usually have more control over their time. Their todays do not necessarily hold their tomorrows hostage. 

As a principal, my day too often seems like one long game of "whack-a-mole," the carnival game where something pops up and you task is to use a mallet to hit it back down - except that as soon as one pops up and you nit  it, another pops up, then another, and another... Perhaps a classier way to describe it is the Greek myth of Sisyphus, the character who spent his day rolling a large boulder up a hill, only to have it roll back down and prompt another perpetual trek up the hill - again and again and all over again. In short, there's little time to sit back and reflect on whats happened and how you responded and learned from the issue.

This entry is an apologetic explanation of my intermittent blog posts, while reflecting on the issues that have limited my writing, and offering a perspective on a difference between the role of a principal and that of a superintendent.

The Language of Leadership

There are a legion of books written on the subject of leadership. I have read more than my share of these texts. While I have cultivated much from these resources, my most simplistic view on principles underlying effective leadership begin with the manner in which we communicate. Specifically, the words we choose when speaking in any leadership role.

I believe that the appropriate point to start a discussion like this is the manner in which the formal leader of an organization refers to him/herself when speaking about the organization. Use of the personal "I" will not support an empowered work force and enlist them in pursuit of goals. Rather, when the formal leader employs the use of "we" or "our" in explaining the operation and aspirations of the organization.

Empowerment takes on heightened importance because it can increase commitment and outputs when people feel aligned with a greater purpose guiding an environment oriented to growing people as well as growing the success of the organization.

Money alone is not the incentive for people to invest fully in their work. It has been shown to not be a motivator, but rather a satisfier. The long term interests and needs of an organization rest on a compelling and credible vision, a meaningful mission, and most importantly a perception by the individual that they matter and make a difference within an organization that values and nurtures the opportunity to grow as a person.

Consider the advice of Bill O'Brien, a successful CEO who is quoted in Peter Senge's book, The Fifth Discipline Fieldbook:

“Our traditional organizations are designed to provide for the first three levels of Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of human needs – food, shelter, and belonging. Since these are widely available to members of an industrial society, these organizations do not provide anything particularly unique to command the loyalty and commitment of people. The ferment in management today will continue until organizations begin to address the higher order needs: self-respect and self-actualization."

Moving Boulders

Our Shared Decision Making Team, comprised of parents, teachers, and support staff, examined the needs of our school last year. The result of their study inspired them to invest in solutions to two vexing issues: the assigned locations of classrooms, and the master schedule. Members divided into two different groups, with each assigned to create responses to the pair of problems and improve our infrastructure. They met regularly with a collective commitment that served to forge a spirit of cooperation focused on meaningful matters that had been absent within the school. The process became as important as the desired product. There was a purpose that inspired and sustained their efforts and energy.

This team performed the heavy lifting. They generated a radically new master schedule that replaced the confusing framework that had previously inhibited collaboration and achievement. The new schedule provided common planning periods across each grade level, which included extending opportunities for collaboration that can advance instructional gains. Each special area class period was the same length, as opposed to the 30 minute Physical Education class twice per week, and the single 50 minute Music, Library, and Art lessons every week. The unaligned time periods disrupted attempts to work together on common needs and interests.

Finally, placing classrooms in proximity to their respective grades enhanced possibilities for teachers partnering and reduced time in transition for learners and interventionist in Reading and Math, as well as special education providers.

Together these two significant changes in infrastructure are designed to promote progress in learning outcomes. The Shared Decision making Team has moved the boulder and it's up to the staff to maintain the momentum for improvement.

Teachers as First Responders

Teachers as First Responders

I am appreciative of all those people who serve in the capacity of first responders. They encounter unimaginable experiences when reaching those in need. The recent shootings in Las Vegas that resulted in 58 deaths and hundreds wounded is a large scale tragedy, a carnival of carnage that must have produced horrific scenes. Thank you to those who willingly help others in distress.

That said, I want to shift the focus from the first responders of doctors, nurses, police, EMT’s who arrive to treat the injured, protect the innocent, or fight fires, to those who have a somewhat different relationship with trauma.

A cadre of our teachers recently received training in research and practices regarding children living with adverse experiences. Unfortunately, there is a growing need to support children impacted by trauma, due to a variety of reasons – incarcerated parents, addictive behaviors within the home, divorce or loss, generational poverty…

In addition to the speaker’s presentation on the physiological influence of stress, we examined two case studies of children that would allow us insight into the lives of specific learners. The more we heard about the challenges that faced these individuals, the more it became apparent that teachers are often performing roles similar to first responders. Although they do not face the dangers confronting police, fire, or emergency medical staff, teachers regularly bear witness to trauma of a different nature. The burden of frequently receiving narratives of misery, hurt, and loss, that may form a toxic combination with the potential to devolve into a sense of helplessness and/or hopelessness, exacts a toll on the emotions of teachers. The result has been referred to as vicarious trauma, or compassion fatigue.

But a review of professional development activities involving schools and trauma would likely reveal that the focus of the training is centered on how teachers can understand and respond to the needs of children experiencing trauma, rather than providing the resources and strategies for teachers to cope with the impact of contending with the stream of trauma they too regularly meet with.

As a result, I supplied the staff with several different articles:

When Students are Traumatized, Teachers are too, by Emelina Minero .

How to Support Stressed-out Teachers, by Joyce Dorado and Vicki Zakrzewski

Managing Vicarious Trauma and Compassion Fatigue, by Heather M. Helm

The more information and insight I digested on the issue, the more empathy I found for staff members who resolutely wrestle with the needs of children in impoverished environments like the community we serve. Though the focus of general professional development experiences address common core elements or a string of state or federally mandated assessments and forms of accountability, the more pressing needs in underperforming and underserved schools are often associated with the affective domain.

This Day Forward

I presented these words to the staff of our school n the aftermath of the September 11th terrorist attack in 2001. The message rings true on this day following a different terrorist attack in Charlottesville, Virginia.

This is a day that will define us – not as educators – but as people. This is a day that we were not prepared for by college, but by our parents, family, and friends. This is a day to ignore the scores on a test, but concern ourselves with the test of our mettle. 

Our school is special because of the people within it. You were each hired because of your care and compassion, commitment and cooperation. If we are determined to pursue a mission borne of fostering hope and feeding dreams, then we must sustain that belief throughout this day and those that follow. 

Let us conduct ourselves with dignity and civility, sensitivity and faith. We must serve as purveyors of information, and reservoirs of understanding. Rest anchored to facts, not fiction; objectivity, not opinion. 

When the school bell rings, on this day that the nation mourns, we may be judged - not by grades and points, but by hugs and tears. If we are resolved to a future of freedom, then we must remain strong, speak as one, and act for all.

Buying and Selling

I recently, and reluctantly, parted ways with my car, after 178,000 miles. Many of us, including me, may loathe the process of buying a new care for fear of the complicated and burdensome interactions required to advance from looking for a car to signing on the bottom line of a contract. I never looked forward to dealing with salespeople.

That changed after reading Daniel Pink's book, To Sell is Human, and reviewing my notes from Harry Beckwith's Selling the Invisible. Pink makes the convincing case that we are all involved in selling on a regular basis, once we escape the notion of limiting sales to an exchange of money and products and understand that sales involve "moving people" through concepts and proposals... We are "selling" ideas to others all the time, whether it's making a pitch for which movie to watch tonight or explaining why we should not drink and drive.

Within that context (please read both books, it will be a wise investment of your time) I perceive myself as a person who sells ideas in exchange for the resources of time and energy and commitment. Think about it - effective schools "sell" parents on the value of their children sustaining a 13 year commitment in quest of a diploma that will lead to....? This is not like convincing a car buyer to purchase a specific car. The customer can see the car, touch the car, drive the car, and imagine how this car will make them feel. It's a transaction centered on a concrete object that results in an immediate receipt of a product by the consumer.

Conversely, as educators we must make a persuasive case for parents extending their commitment for a product (a diploma certifying standards and levels of performance) that they cannot see or feel. hence, Beckwith's book, Selling the Invisible. Beckwith contrasts selling a concrete object with selling an idea that is invisible that extends into the future with the following advice - "Selling aspirin to someone with a headache is much easier than trying to sell life insurance to a twenty-two year old bachelor." One has an immediate need, while the other is something that is not seen or touched or used for perhaps many years into the future.

That's the challenge for educators - selling the value and purpose of education to the community in a convincing enough fashion that the taxpayers will maintain financial support.

Something Old, Something New

As soon as one school is completed, preparations for another begin. One of the primary responsibilities in forging plans for the upcoming school term involves hiring staff members.

I have been performing this task for many years now. It's a challenge I enjoy. Nurturing growth in staff members is rewarding. I especially like observing the energy and enthusiasm that accompanies the resume each candidate brings to the interview.

However, the longer I remain in education, the more echoes of the past emerge. With a career than spans four decades, I have experienced a robust array of programs and practices pushed by consultants (all too often former educators imbued with the sales pitch of a snake oil salesman seeking to bilk public funds from anxious consumers in search of a quick remedy...) at conferences. During the course of a lengthy career, one hears programs explained in terms that sound vaguely familiar. Peering beneath the shade, light is cast on elements or concepts that are true, but couched in updated buzz-words and enhance with the technology of the time - all, to appear different enough to distinguish the program from earlier versions. Think about paraphrasing a quote, or citing a reference with a footnote in tiny font at the end of the book/article. As kids say, "the same, but different."

Somehow, amid all of the hype and noise, arise research based proposals that have survived critical analysis and been identified as viable solutions to stated needs. Even these programs are subject to subtle, nuanced tweaks that accumulatively have the effect to cloak the original and birth a new product.

Such was the case when I, many years ago as a new teacher, excitedly explained to my mother-in-law (a former teacher at a one room school house in Kansas, and later a principal of a small rural school there) about the new concept entitled "cooperative learning." I recounted the wisdom and recommendations presented by the authors (themselves products of a one room school house) and went on and on about the virtues of the philosophy and practice. My audience of one was patient, gracious, and accommodating.

Finally, after exhausting my knowledge and effort, my mother-in-law politely offered that it, "sounds a lot like what I learned years ago when studying the work of John Dewey." That took a little wind out of my sails, though she clearly did not intended to dismiss or discount my interest in cooperative learning. Nor did she imply that the Johnson brothers who formed the basis for cooperative learning were copying the work of Dewey, but rather building on his efforts and refining/updating the practice.

Nonetheless, it was an example of what continues to occur in the field of education, old practices and programs wearing new, more stylish clothes to impress shoppers.

Here's the Bill

After a rumbling sound emerging from the bowels of my car that could no longer be ignored by turning up the volume of the radio, I accepted reality, combined with my ignorance of things mechanical, and trudged into the local auto dealership. I drive the car 50 miles each day, to and from work, with little idea of how it works. I know there are pistons and spark plugs, valves and hoses... but that's about the extent of my knowledge.

The phone call from the service department could well have been conveyed in another language other than English. It was replete with acronyms, slang, and unknown terms that left me bewildered. When they arrived at the final cost of services there was nothing I could say. After all, how would I know what each part cost, or how long it took to replace? So, whether they said it would be $200.00 or $600.00, who was I to claim otherwise. I paid the bill.

On the way home from the garage, I realized that too many parents leave school after attending conferences with the same forlorn, perplexed, sense of resignation I felt when handed the bill because, like my puzzled mind sorting through terms and concepts that were foreign to me, they are often left in a fog of educational acronyms and esoteric data. Questioning educators by seeking clarity may expose the parent as less intelligent than they really are and serves to reinforce an asymmetrical knowledge relationship where the teacher holds power due to their possession and use of unknown phrases or uncertain meanings. Rather than expose their lack of understanding in an issue considered significant (the education of their child), the parent likely accepts the outcome and walks away as I did after paying the bill for car repairs.

Full Meetings of Empty Calories

Wikipedia defines "empty calories" with the following words: "In human nutrition, the term empty calories applies to food such as solid fats or added sugars supplying food energy but little or no other nutrition. The USDA advises, "A small amount of empty calories is okay, but most people eat far more than is healthy."

I have labored to endure a series of monthly meetings of a coalition that has mired itself in the consumption of empty calories that lack any form of nutrition. In other words, the members, though well intended, appear to measure themselves by the number of meetings they attend and the amount of words they deliver. They routinely arrive, address vague goals and undefined outcomes, dispense with updates on what their organization has accomplished, watch the clock, and then bid each other farewell until next month.

The lack of cohesion toward a clear purpose and the meandering progress of the coalition have prompted my decision to invest my valuable time and energy elsewhere. I can't sustain myself on empty calories.

Go To Your Corner

The demands and challenges of school leadership, or virtually any leadership position, can be taxing. At times, the onslaught of people seeking answers, advice, or an opportunity to complain, can become overwhelming. Once emotional fatigue seeps in, subsequent decisions can be negatively impacted. Responses can be exaggerated, wrong, or emotional.

Before it reaches the stage of fight or flight, I seek refuge in an environment that has the potential to restore energy, reaffirm purpose, and return to equilibrium. It has varied from assignment to assignment, but it's always a welcoming atmosphere. It's usually been a particular classroom where a visit serves as a reminder of why we're involved in leadership, includes learners and teachers who are positive and constructive, and overall breathe life back into an otherwise deflated soul.

Among a few specific retreats within the building I work, one stands out. The kitchen is occupied by several women who are committed to providing nourishment for the bodies of our 400 learners in the form of two meals per day, and provide nourishment for the self-esteem of our 400 learners in the form of personalized communication featuring comments of recognition and acceptance. Both of these functions are exercised at high levels of performance. On top of those contributions, the kitchen staff members have a collective sense of humor and offer support through casual banter. They treat me like a person, not a boss.

As I thought of how the kitchen staff is a source of revitalization, I conjured up the image of the trainer and medical staff that jumps into the ring and supports a boxer during breaks between rounds of a boxing match. They provide the boxer with advice and encouragement. Similarly, the kitchen staff uses smiles, laughter, and personal stories (and a taste test of whatever meal they are preparing) to offer a brief respite from the daily work that often seems like the jabs and punches the boxer tries to dodge.