Dear Michelle

The following is a promised response to Michelle Galloway from a conversation we had Wednesday afternoon. I decided to make it public because I realized that so many more of us needed to hear it. 

Dear Michelle,

Thanks for such a great conversation this week and for continuously trying so hard to keep your kids engaged right now. I know it's not easy, but I promise you, you're doing great. Our conversation ended on the topic of "small wins" and the idea that you could focus on the people that you are helping instead of the ones that you are not. As promised, I looked back on what I had read on the topic from graduate school. It was a very boring version. Instead, I found a few great articles and this TED Talk video. You should watch it. (It's not like we don't have time!)

I strongly feel that we are moved to ideas and people that need us most. Some people call that fate and others call it divine intervention. No matter the source, I think we are in that moment for a reason. I'm so glad that while cutting off the lights on Wednesday, I stopped to talk to you about this. Just reading on the topic made me see the faces of so many of our teachers that are going through the same thing that you are experiencing. Any classroom evaluation with only 11 engaged students would be a disaster. For that reason, only having 11 students show up to a virtual classroom meeting seems like a huge disappointment. But it's not. It's a small win.

No doubt, every teacher, student, and parent is in uncharted waters right now. We are all frustrated with trying to maintain what we think we should be doing and we feel disappointed as we fail to meet that expectation. But this is different. Instead, we should be celebrating every student, every assignment completed, and every piece of makeup work turned in. Without our efforts, there are no students, no assignments, and no makeup work. And that's far worse.

A quote from that TED Talk stuck with me. "Success is strange, in that it cultivates more success." This week you were successful in engaging some students. That success will lead to greater success for you as you learn new ways to be a teacher and to them as they learn the power in the content and in their own desire to learn. These small wins will add up, and when you look back at your career in helping young people, you will be proud of what you have amassed.

While this response is directed at you, just know that it could have just as easily been entitled, Dear Ashley, Dear Kristin, Dear David, Dear Katie, Dear Jason or so many others on our staff. None of us is alone in this and none of us that continues to try something each day is failing. Focus on your small wins. So many others are counting on them.

I Miss Prom

As a 15 year-old, high school freshman, I sat in an older friend's car trying to determine if I was supposed to wear a cummerbund with my vest or not. Both items had been in the package of my rental tux and my pride had gotten in the way of me asking an adult what I was supposed to do, so I put on both. I'm sure it looked as uncomfortable as I felt. I decided to ditch the cummerbund as she and I got out of her car for dinner. Years later, my mom would joke that she should have purchased me a tuxedo because it would have been less expensive than renting one (or more) every year to go to a prom or other formal dance. Fast forward twenty-some years, and I still enjoy the prom.

In conversations this week with friends, I mentioned that our prom should have been this past Thursday night. Someone joked with me saying, "I bet you don't miss that right now though!" As an adult, your outside view of a high school principal's job at the prom is to get everyone to behave. And while our students are always at the forefront of my mind that evening, it's not for the same reason that they thought. I do not worry about them dancing too close. Teenagers have always danced too close. I do not worry about those that choose to party that evening. I worry about them being safe. I do not worry about them getting pressured into bad situations. I worry if they will have the strength to say no to them. And I do not worry about prom in general. I enjoy the fact that these young people are quickly becoming adults and this evening serves as a "student-driver" trial at adulthood.

Our students are not rich. Some live much more comfortably than others, but a short drive outside of

our region quickly levels any financial advantage that they may have. But on the evening of prom, a poor kid can get to pretend that they are a wealthy adult. And for teenage boys and girls alike, something magical happens. For that night, the world has somehow stopped the problems of poverty and class as dance floors fill with the collective heartbeats of young people embracing an evening of looking and feeling their best. Perhaps that is why we have never had many problems on prom night at our school. The elation and appreciation of the moment overrides the opportunity for nefarious plans. While I love that about our kids, it still won't stop me from worrying that they all get home safely.

This year I miss prom. Not for the tuxedos or finger food. Not for the pictures or the dancing. I miss the prom for the experience. I miss the faces of girls excited at how pretty they are and boys trying to look like they are the coolest guy on Earth. Even if he's wearing a cummerbund under his vest. I really hope we get the chance to give them a prom somehow. We all deserve it.