Cast Down Your Bucket

Note: Today's blog post may really qualify as rambling. Stick with me to the end, and I promise I'll tie it together.

I had a different idea for today's blog, but after a series of events yesterday afternoon, I changed my mind. I was riding to Greenville with my daughter, Rylee. We were talking about her day and school and she asked me why February was Teen Dating Violence Awareness Month and not Black History Month. Our discussion merged into what she thought they should talk about and it brought me back to teaching African American history. I always had half of my class read W.E.B. DuBois' autobiography, The Souls of Black Folk, and the other half read Booker T. Washington's autobiography, Up From Slavery. We used the competing narratives to debate African American progress then and now. By the end, it was always my hope that they could take pieces from both and see how society can change and do better, no matter your race. One element that I always appreciated was Washington's idea to "cast down your bucket where you are." Washington was determined that any person or group should make the best of the situation that they are in and work hard to improve rather than rely on others to improve conditions for them.

At this point, Rylee and I had arrived at Cracker Barrel to get dinner for our accreditation team. We paid for the food and waited patiently. The man behind me was also paying for a to-go order. When given the amount, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills and change. Without explanation or request, he just laid the handful of money on the counter. The young lady serving him proceeded to count out his money, taking what was needed and slid the rest back toward him. Maybe it was the long day I had or the conversation with my daughter, but watching this was eating me alive. I tried to analyze it. Maybe he couldn't count the money. Then I remembered seeing him in the parking lot. He drove there. Certainly, if he can drive a car, he can count change. I rationed out every other reason in my head and settled on the fact that he was simply content to let her do it for him. I had to ask her if that was normal. She said that sometimes elderly people ask for help, but that his behavior certainly was strange.

I get that as educators, while our goal is to help all children, we probably will not save them all. Not everyone will graduate, every year. Not everyone will be proficient, every year. Not even everyone will pass every class. We aim for that, but we also know that human nature is often unpredictable and adds an element that reaches far beyond the classroom.  But maybe we can try to teach students to work hard where they are. If they are an AP student, then they can work hard to get into that top school. If they are a struggling student then they can work hard to get through and have the accomplishment of knowing that they made it and can keep moving forward. Either way, if we can teach them to cast down their bucket where they are, then maybe we create a culture, not set on attainment of six-figure jobs and multiple college degrees, but with an understanding of hard work and progress. If that happens, then we have really educated them.

No One Came

Another speaker from my conference last week opened up his keynote with something that resonated with me. Dr. Donyall Dickey introduced himself with the story of how he graduated high school and no one from his family came to the ceremony. Then he graduated with his bachelor's degree, and no one came. He earned his master's degree, and no one came. Finally, he earned his doctorate, and again, no one from his family came. As a first-generation college goer, I can see how it is difficult for a family to understand the value of those accomplishments. Particularly if they do not value education itself. While my own family certainly valued my education, my last degree did leave them asking exactly what it was and what it meant. Being a first-generation college-goer is usually not a path you travel alone, but in the case of Dr. Dickey, it was.

I remember my last year working for a neighboring school district and the intense efforts that went into controlling crowd noise at graduation. We trained teachers and employed security that were supposed to ask people to be respectful and quiet if they cheered. A second violation was supposed to result in asking them to leave. I, personally, have never understood that. I have no trouble in pausing to read the next name so that a family can let their child know that they are there and are proud of the accomplishment.

This concept got me thinking though. Why do we wait 13 years to let a child know that someone is there? Why do we only get one moment to celebrate their accomplishment? For some of those kids, it may be the last time that anyone does that in their entire life. We started this year out saying that we wanted to celebrate more of our accomplishments. We know and understand that it's important to do that. With that in mind, how are we doing that for our students? Do we celebrate growth and achievement in the classroom enough? The few moments that students get to feel that pride can mean the world to them, especially if they live in a home where no one will come to celebrate for them.

Doing Something Right

This week I have been at the annual NCASCD conference. The few days that I spend at the conference with other principals gives me some time to share ideas and reflect on what we are doing. One of Thursday's keynote speakers was Wes Kieschnick (@Wes_Kieschnick) and he speaks to educators about the importance of mixing blended learning, tech devices and digital resources with "old school" professional development and lesson planning. He has coined this type of teaching and learning under the hashtag #BOLDSchool on Twitter. Wes is a captivating speaker and as he spoke, I got mental images about some of the great teachers in our building and the amazing professional development that we get from Mrs. Garcia and Mr. Shaw.  

Ironically, our own opinions on how well we are doing with digital learning, don't exactly match the images that ran through my head. This week I updated the Leadership Team on the survey data that we had collected for our upcoming accreditation visit and one of the things that we said that we needed work on was digital learning. Now it wasn't rated poorly or anything, but it did show up in surveys and observations as something that we thought should be seen more or should be more interactive. The observation tool and the survey questions wanted to see the digital learning taking places in all classrooms and it needed to replace things like worksheets and other classroom activities. That's exactly what Wes says that we should NOT be doing. Instead of trying to figure out what tech tools we can use in the next lesson, we should start old school and plan the learning out with objectives in mind. If by the end of our planning, we see a place that tech can help us or engage kids, then we use it. This is literally what Team Garcia & Shaw have developed over the years and despite what those surveys say, I think we are doing something right. 

Over the past few years, I have seen a dramatic shift in the way that many of you teach and think about teaching. As new teachers have arrived at our school, you've rubbed off on them as well. The concept of "old school" teaching mixed with blended learning is alive and well at Greene Central. I'm proud to say that we are a BOLD school. 

The Hero of the Story

I recently read a news story about a high school cross country runner in California that captivated my attention. This past fall, Paradise High School’s boy cross country team made the tough decision not to travel to their sectional championship race. The wildfires that spread throughout California had reached their hometown and assembling the team and traveling to the race was not a major focus. The race went on without them. 

A senior, Gabe Price, had been running great times all season and now had no chance of qualifying for the state championship. After the race, there was talk of his situation and he was given permission to run the course to attempt to qualify. However, instead of racing others, he would have to run it alone. The day before the race, it was confirmed that his home was destroyed in the fire, along with his running shoes. Discouraged, but unbeaten, Gabe showed up to run the course. 

On the original race day, Chico High School had won the meet. This team had heard about Gabe and the rest of the Paradise team and decided to travel back to the course to cheer him on. A parent on the team even brought Gabe a pair of running shoes. They cheered Gabe on in his attempt to qualify. He needed to run the 3.1 mile course in 17 minutes and 41 seconds. He ran it in 17:12. 

Chico’s team was full of runners better than Gabe. They had no benefit of supporting his effort. But they respected his attempt in spite of the struggle. Their support, both in their presence and in the shoes, undoubtedly helped him earn a trip to the state championship race that day. 

There are teachers in our building that are nothing short of amazing. There are mid-career teachers well on their way there. There are beginning teachers with a heart full of passion that work hard to figure things out day to day. There are also those of us that have tough times like Gabe. Bad things happen to us personally that impact our work. We make professional decisions that don’t turn out like we wanted them to. Sometimes things fall apart. And when that happens, you have to have the grit of Gabe Price. You show up, barefoot and alone, prepared to give it your best. But the most important factor for success in Gabe’s story, was the support he got. The hero in the story isn’t the kid that qualified for the state championship, it’s the ones that supported him in his effort. 

Take time to look at your colleagues. You probably won’t have to look long or hard to find someone that needs your support, or just a kind word. Remember your last struggle as a teacher and remember what you needed most. You have a chance to be the hero in their story. And because you are helping a teacher, that story impacts so many more people.