Turning the corner...

I have realized recently that I have begun to turn a corner in my ability to live the life of an instructional leader.  I am beginning to define more clearly within myself exactly what I am looking for during learning engagements.  From that, I am beginning to be able to better pinpoint strengths and weaknesses.  I am even slowly beginning to work out plans and put together resources for improvement.  Now I need to learn how to coach.  I think when I get the coach thing down, that's when I'll really begin to make progress as an instructional leader.  Furthermore, my teachers will benefit directly affecting the students and their learning.  I've got a lot to learn, but I'm turning the corner!

Inquiry is...

...the way to go about teaching and learning in the 21st century and the 20th century and the 19th century and the 22nd century, etc.

I have been an administrator for just over 100 school days, so I am no self-confessed expert at being on of the chief instructional officers of a school.  However, I do feel that in my short time as an admin I have renewed my passion towards inquiry-based learning.  According to this website, "Inquiry is defined as "a seeking for truth, information, or knowledge -- seeking information by questioning."

For example, I watched my daughter the other night as she played with a few newly discovered toys.  My daughter, Tinley, is a BEAUTIFUL 8 month old (I am definitely  smitten in every sense of the word), so everything is very new to her.  She heard the toy as I made it rattle, then she grabbed at it.  She messed with it on a larger scale, swinging it back and forth and then began to pay closer attention to the different parts of the toy.  She began to feel the textures, admire the bright colors, and even taste different parts.  She was seeking for information as she interacted with the toy.

This new toy is sooo cool!

Taking a picture break!

It's even got a tag!

As I watched her, I couldn't help but think about the hours upon hours that children helplessly sit in desks neatly placed in rows or table groups as an adult pours out information just hoping that the little sponges will soak it all up so it can be squeezed out onto the upcoming high-stakes test.  Tinley was so excited about her new discovery, most students are not.

How do we take the excitement that my 8 month old experienced and make it similar to the excitement that a multitude of students can experience each and every day inside the brick and mortar walls of a school?  I feel the answer lies in an inquiry-based approach.  Instead of funneling information into kids, funnel kids towards information.  Create environments that allow for information seeking and finding.

The new buzz word in my district is student engagement.  I truly believe that ALL students deeply long to be engaged.  An inquiry approach will meet that students where they are and push them to where they need to be because an inquiry approach naturally makes things more rigorous and relevant, and relevance always brings about differentiation.  If inquiry is seeking information, then usually it is because there is a problem to solve which creates a challenge that must be tackled with a project.  If you look at it that way, then you have tackled project-based learning, problem-based learning, and challenge-based learning all in one big swoop!  I'm sure there is more "buzz words" that inquiry involves, but that is all I've got for now.

I really do believe that inquiry is the only way to fully prepare our children for the 22nd century.  The good thing is...children do it naturally.  The bad thing is...we as adults always seem to get in the way.

Your thoughts?

The Other Stuff...

Preface: our district is currently in the midst of the AdvancED recertification process. With this comes a ton of reflection, data analysis, and writing.

Much of my time the past few weeks have been consumed with "the other stuff." The "the other stuff" consists of things that takes me away from visiting classrooms and spending time with my "Boyz in the Wood" and researching best instructional practices and matching teachers with resources and being available to model and allowing time just to talk and committing total attention to whole child discipline. I am in no way minimizing the importance of "the other stuff". I lament the fact that it takes me from what I think matters. However, doesn't data analysis, reflection, and writing matter?

If failure isn't an option...

I like to think that I'm a risk taker.  I like to think that I'm bold and live life on the edge.  I like to think that change is good for me and will make me better.  But I also like to think that I'm much better looking than I really am and can still keep up with 16 year olds in basketball.  (Well I can keep up with 16 year olds on the court, but I pay for it in the morning.  However, I'm still as ugly as I've always been ***see profile picture!)

Needless to say, what goes on in my mind and what really happens are two VERY different things.  In all honestly, I like to play it safe.  I like the guaranteed route.  Like most educators, I want the greatest success with the list bit of resistance.  Change is good, as long as it doesn't change me.  I'm an education reformer that just happens to be closer to the "way we've always done it" mindset.

I can remember day after day preaching to my students about taking risks.  Step out there and be willing to "fail successfully".  (FAIL SUCCESSFULLY was an expectation in my classroom).  However, rarely was I willing to step up to the plate.  Rarely was I willing to put myself out there and do something that was edgy and offered an opportunity for failure.  Likewise, rarely did I achieve excellence as a teacher...

...until I began to put myself in situations that afforded failure.  I will admit, at first I was like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.  I was skiddish and still wanting t o hold on tight to the outcome.  However, once I got my first taste of success...now I'm not just talking about about success as in a bunch of students making "A's".  I'm talking about success when I looked at a piece of students work, their finished creation, their blood (yes I said blood), sweat and tears, and stood in awe of the amazing that I would have NEVER-not in a million year- created or thought to create.  It gave me a rush.  I have chills now just thinking about those times.  Now, those times in my teaching were scary.  I had a clue of what was going to take place.  I'd plan and outline like crazy.  I'd dream and hope and pray, but I would never allow myself to control the outcome (even though I wanted to oh so very badly).

My fear in education is that we have eliminated the option for failure.  Failure for us and failure for the kids.  We have grown so accustomed to cookie cutter ways; ways that are guaranteed; ways that have ALWAYS "worked".  The elimination of failure has a residual affect as well.  When the option to fail is removed so too is deep problem solving, any type of real world relevance, and even motivation.  I guess this brings me to my final thought for this post: If failure isn't an option, than neither is excellence!

I was in a squirrel trap...

(My fear about using the following analogy and giving you a glimpse into my messed up head will scare you away, but it's worth taking that risk because I was scared away from education today.)

I am an outdoorsman.  I love the outdoors; it is a supreme release for me and something my heart and body uses as medicine.  On occasion, I will "harvest" animals.  In regular city folk talk you'd say that I shoot and kill poor defenseless animals.  I started my hunting hobby by hunting squirrels with a close buddy.  Don't cringe too much, but YES I do skin, freeze, cook, and eat the squirrels that I harvest.  One way I go about hunting squirrels is by using a trap very similar to the one in the picture.  I have found that squirrels are absolutely addicted to bird seed.  I mean to the point that I think that squirrels have BSA (Bird Seed Anonymous) Meetings somewhere in the tree tops.  "Hello my name is Squire the Squirrel and I'm a Seed-aholic!"  I have trapped as many as three squirrels in one day by using bird seed as my bait.  I won't go into any further squirrel trapping details since it is so close to dinner time.  However, I felt like this analogy was perfect for what I suffered through today.

I was chosen to be on the 2013 Math Textbook Adoption Committee for my district.  I was honored to be considered valuable enough to be placed on such a prestigious committee, but I'm not sure that whoever placed me on it understands my background.  I taught for 6 years at a WONDERFUL inquiry-based school that chose not to use textbooks.  I was allowed to write my own pacing guide and make instructional decisions based on the needs of my students, not the textbook page we were required to complete.

As I sat in the 4 presentations, each an hour long, trying to practice the skills I am picking up from my current book, "The Lost Art of Listening," I could not help but to feel more and more paranoid that the doors in the room were going to shut and a loud voice was going to say in a slow country twang, "look -er boys, we got us her -notha one!"  As each presenter (all apparently self-professing former teachers...clever) pitched their product as the best thing since they aligned sliced bread with the Common Core back in 2012 (gotta feed students brain food now), I started looking around for the bird seed.

The more the presenters talked, the more I realized how we continue to move further and further away from rigorous and RELEVANT instruction and fall deeper into the quick-fix curriculum trap.  We have taken the same thing that students did in 1920 and dressed it up in a pretty cover, added an iPad app, some differentiated instruction, a few Tier 3 interventions, aligned it with the CCSS, sprinkle in some higher order thinking questions and called it innovative.  Mr. Winkle would still feel comfortable!  We fork over thousands of dollars for curriculum that doesn't meet the needs of this year's students and probably won't meet next year's needs either.  We supplement with PD.  We buy supplemental resources.  We groan and grunt as, yet again, another program doesn't work.  We're trapped again until the next adoption.

I am new to my school district.  It is an amazing place, filled with amazing educators.  I honestly feel that we are moving in the right direction by implementing data teams and the PLC model.  I know that we HAVE to adopt a textbook, and since we will fork out a ton of money; we will HAVE to use it with fidelity across the district.  I just get so skiddish about the use of textbooks as curriculum.  I honestly feel that the kids should set the curriculum.  The kids interests should guide how we use the standards, ESPECIALLY in math and language arts.  It's hard to solve real world problems when you must be on page 107 by Thursday.  I understand that some teachers need that guide.  However, why don't we put our money into teaching those teachers how to make informed decisions about their students' needs rather than buying books that will, AT BEST, be used as dust collectors on shelves, book bag weights, or desk filler-uppers.  We have already placed a significant amount of money into training for data teams and PLC's.

I could ramble on forever about this, what are your thoughts about the squirrel trap we are in?

Sharpening the Knife...

As I was preparing mashed potatoes for Christmas dinner I found that my trusty Buck "Silver Creek" Filet Knife was struggling to cut the potatoes needed for my dish.  Two things crossed my mind: 1. Dang this knife is too dull to cut through potatoes...sorry knife.  2. Dang this knife has been through a lot (the skinning and butchering of multiple deer, wild hogs and other assorted game, TONS of vegetable chopping, and a few other miscellaneous chores that I could conger up during its life span and I let it become dull due to my neglect.

A few Christmases ago I received a Lansky Knife Sharpening Kit so I could theoretically keep my hunting knives sharp and ready (I guess you can see how well I've done in practice).  I busted out the kit on the 26th and went to sharpening my knife.  The kit is designed to start out using a very course stone that begins that process of sanding down the blade and imperfections it may have.  You progressively move towards a very smooth stones that, lacking for better words, polishes the blade making it razor sharp.  It took me an hour or so before the blade was restored to factory sharpness.  I can now, set the knife on a potato and, after applying the weight of my hand, slice the potato in two pieces.

As I meticulously rubbed the various stones on the knife blade in the required "W" formation, I had plenty of time to think.  There are very few things that I have respect for more than a sharp knife.  I take for granted the art a knife can create (delicious cuts of food, a wood carving, etc) and the chaos it can generate (bloody fingers or even death).  The majority of a knife's life is spent sitting in a drawer waiting to be used, however a knife's job is to cut and cut well.  When it doesn't cut, and cut well, it is useless; simply a piece of stainless steel with a handle.    If I would have taken the time and energy to sharpen my knife on a semi-regular basis, I would have never had to struggle through cutting something as easy as a potato.  I allowed the knife to become useless.  This made me think about the great quote by President Lincoln, “If I had six hours to chop down a tree, I'd spend the first four hours sharpening the axe.”

I am currently in the process, as I have been for the past 2 months, of structuring my goals for 2013.  These goals are an opportunity for me to sharpen myself.  All the goals that I have are very un-glorious and lack spunk and excitement.  However, I feel confident that if I can conquer the specific, measurable, attainable, reasonable, and timely (SMART) goals I have set, my knife will be sharp and ready for use.

The sharpening part is dull, meticulous, and often times boring, but when the time comes for use, it will be well worth it!

My 2013 Goals broken down into categories (I'll update, add, and modify):

Spiritual:

• I will read the Gospels in their entirety at least 3 times by the end of 2013 striving to learn more about Jesus Christ's life, ministry, and leadership.
• I will memorize and meditate on the "Sermon on the Mount" from Matthew 5-7 by the end of 2013.  Averaging about 3 verses per week.
• I will read 4 books centered around Jesus by the end of the 2013.  Averaging roughly 1 book per 3 months.  (Christ Plays in 10,000 Places by Eugene Petersen, The Jesus You Thought You Knew by John MacArthur, and 2 others TBD)

Physical

• I will run 600 total miles (50 miles per month), log at least 244 activities (about 19 per month), and participate in at least 6 running races of any distance by the end of 2013.

Family

• I will read a bible story using the book given to us by the Dickenson family to my daughter at least three times a week before bedtime totaling about 150 reads in 2013.

Professional Learning (still have work to do)

School Leadership (Still have work to do)

Please share your comments!

That Friday morning, those kids taught me...

It all started out in typical Friday fashion.  I was determined to have my ever growing to-do list chopped down by the end of the day.  As a million thoughts rushed through my head, I hurried quickly back to my office to peck out some response emails, review a bus video, and set the plans for a future PLC, I was handed a small pink sticky note with a name and a number written on it.  I was told that a lady had called and asked for an administrator to call her back; no other details were given.  I grumbled under my breath as I walked the final few paces to my office, plopped down in my chair, and stuck the note on my desk.  I resisted the urge to trudge through my to-do list, lifted the phone, dialed the number, and began to listen to the caller on the other end of the line.

The voice on the other end was gentle, yet it was easy to distinguish that hint of brokenheartedness that is felt rather than heard.  The lady kindly introduced herself and, without knowing how to cordially lead us in, quickly plunged into the issue at hand.  The lady on the phone was a concerned grandmother that was worried about her granddaughter.  She began her story with a little background information about her little girl.  She talked about how her girl had always loved school and seemed to really enjoy learning.  She talked about how much she loved her and how she was her life.  Her next word ate at my core.  It's not that the word itself is bad.  Granted it shows contrast, yet it usually goes unnoticed in conversations.  Not this time.  Not in this conversation.  When this grandmother muttered the word "but," everything changed.  Right after she said it, she had to apologize because she had begun to cry.  She didn't have to tell me that she was crying, I could hear it in the trembling of her voice.  I could feel the heavy heart from her words and occasional sobs.  She illustrated for me a story of a little girl that has been constantly picked on for something that she can't even help.  For a very common skin condition.  She told me that her granddaughter had become the "cheese" of the infamous "cheese-touch" from the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series.  She sobbed to me that her granddaughter  who once loved school, who once couldn't wait to get to bed so she could wake up the next day, had to be pried out of the car on this typical Friday.  That same girl who hung on the words that were spoken in class by her teachers and peers, cried herself to sleep at night because of the punch line she had become.  As she talked, my head hung low, but not lower than my heart.

I concluded the phone call in a typical administrator fashion, but my heart hurt.  There are times that you go through the motions; you follow policy, procedure, and protocol.  You don't think, you just act.  Then there are times that you're human.  You feel, you hurt, you hope.  After that call, I was human, humiliatingly human.

After hanging up the phone, I took a minute to get my thoughts together then called the little girl into my office.  Other than the, "I don't think I did anything to get called to the office" look she gave me when she turned the corner in my office, her attitude was not what I was expecting.  The little girl I locked eyes with was surprisingly chipper for someone who had to be dragged out of the car previously that morning.  She merrily talked about her morning and how she liked her substitute, but misses her teacher when she's gone.  After the formalities of introduction subsided, I asked her about some of the things her grandmother informed me about.  She told an identical tale of being picked on since 1st grade.  She told me the whys and hows and whats.  Enraged at this point, I asked for the whos.  Who in God's Holy name could be bullying such a sweet child...I thought to myself.  I was going to deal with that bully or few bullies.  I anxiously anticipated her answer, but was humbled by her response.  This sweet little girl, with pain in her eyes, gazed at me and said, "Mr. Richards, it feels like half of the entire grade picks on me."  I didn't think my heart could drop much lower than when I was on the phone with the grandmother, but believe you me, it did.  I am known to be able to throw out a pretty good poker face.  Very few things shake me, but there is no way that that little girl couldn't see the hurt in her eyes mirrored in mine.  However, what happened next was the most amazing thing.  Without even thinking, possibly in the same breath, she used that word...that same word that changed everything in the conversation with her grandmother.  That same word that will again...change everything..."but!"  "But Mr. Richards," the look in her eyes returning to the sparkle she displayed at the outset of our meeting, "there are some students in my class that never pick on me."  "They've even stood up for me."  She went on and on about the times they've helped her and how they make her happy and not sad like the other kids.

As she talked I zoned out.  This was too much for me to process.  Here is a girl who has been bullied for years, and all she can really talk about is the people that have come by her side.  I asked for the students names and called them to my office.  When the group arrived, I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I wasn't expecting the students that showed up.  I'm not sure if the ingrained Hollywood image of heroes and heroines just has me messed up, but this was the rag-taggiest group of kids ever.  Honestly, and this is sad for me to say, I'm not sure if I had ever even seen a few of the kids before that fateful Friday morning.  I asked them all to sit down and gently shut my door.  The lone boy in the room joyfully asked, "are we in trouble?!"  I honestly didn't know how to respond.  I sat down in my desk chair and stared face to face with six children.  Six snaggle-toothed, pig-tail braided, breakfast stained shirt, crumb wearing kids...and I never felt more humbled.  Here were six children, all under the age of 10, and five of them were heroes to one little girl.  I am never at a loss for words, but I was then.  I simply said, "thank you."  After being asked why, I went into further details.  I'm not sure what all I said to them, but I hope my heart came out as I said thank you.

They later left my office with smiles and headed back to class.  I called each of their parents and thanked them for having them at Wood Elementary.  Each parent was grateful for the call, but none more grateful than I was for having the opportunity to make the call.  On that Friday morning, I sat face-to-face with five heroes.  Five students that were willing to go against the grain.  Five unassuming students that have made a huge mark on one child's life, and one administrators life, simply because they were willing to do what was right.  That Friday morning, those kids taught me...