Productive Paranoia

Doing teacher observations isn't my favorite part of my job. I don't mind talking to teachers about their lessons or even spending time in classrooms, but there's just something about the formality of the process that isn't engaging for me. Many of you, at some point, have had to remind me that I owe you an observation as we get near the deadline for the quarter. And as we are at the deadline for this quarter, I'm rushing to get my observations done. One of the classes I visited this week was Jennifer Edwards's English 3 course. After some silent reading time and breakfast was out of the way, the lesson started with a Ted Talk about fear. Karen Thompson Walker told the true story of a shipwreck that inspired the novel, Moby Dick. (You can listen here) The sailers were over 1,000 miles offshore and had to determine which way to get to safety. Their shortest route led them to Tahiti, however, they feared that the inhabitants there were cannibals. Paralyzed by fear, they took a much longer route, ran out of food and water, and even resorted to cannibalism to stay alive. Fear made them act irrationally and ironically, they became what they feared most.

Fear builds a story in our minds of what we believe is the worst thing that can happen. And while fear can often help us make bad decisions, it's hard to turn off. But there's another option that Walker discussed, Productive Paranoia. Instead of being afraid and doing nothing, productive paranoia means working hard at being ready for what you fear most. Then if it happens, you are as ready as you can be. I had never heard this term before the classroom observation this week, but I don't think I can forget it. In many ways, this is exactly what we have been doing in schools for the past two years. When we reopened, I'll be the first to admit that I told a few people privately that I didn't think it would work. Our threshold for COVID cases was low and our fears that we would all be sick were high. In a lot of ways, we worked exceptionally hard not to let that happen. And it worked. Then we realized how much learning loss and absenteeism our students had. We were afraid that a generation of students would never catch up. We are working hard to engage them and are doing things we have never had to do. And it's starting to work. In my job, I talk with other principals about our fear of a massive teacher shortage. Our fears have made us think about how we appreciate teachers that do a great job and we have advocated for them to be adequately paid for it. They are starting to listen and new ideas about teacher compensation and licensure are getting a lot of attention. I sincerely hope that it works.

"Don't be afraid" is one of those phrases that gets thrown around a lot, but I'm going to try to remove it from my vocabulary. It's ok to be afraid of the worst because sometimes, the worst does happen. But when we can use that fear to be productive in preventing the worst from happening, we become stronger than the fear. I'm not sure if Mrs. Edwards's students got all of that from the lesson that I observed, but I was happy that I showed up that day. I think I learned a lot.

Camouflage and Banned Books

On Thursday I had a conversation with Mrs. Whitson that made me realize how important it is to be explicit about the things that we teach kids. Not the things that you find in standards or pacing guides, but the things that (if we're being honest) really matter. I'm all for getting kids to learn curriculum, but the act of knowing it isn't what is really important. Hopefully, that curriculum unlocks an interest for students and they use that interest to go for a career. But if we are being honest, the vast majority of curriculum that we teach will never be used again in their professional career. What students really learn is how to work, manage tasks, communicate, think and evaluate. But if we do a good job, we teach them how to be good people along the way. 

There's a recent trend for parents to be pretty critical about the subject and language of the books that students read. Young adult novels often contain more adult language and themes of conflict and other topics that cause students to grapple with the dark parts of human nature. Some parents don't want their children exposed to that and as a result, school districts are updating policies on how to evaluate books that are appropriate. When Mrs. Whitson and I spoke about this, she hit me with a great question: Why is it wrong for students to understand a topic without it being something that they don't have to experience personally? Basically, what we are talking about is empathy. These books are having students empathize with a character or subject in a novel that is experiencing a difficult problem. And while we hope that the students don't encounter that problem personally, it's not a bad thing for them to consider the emotions and conflicts of a person that does. Understanding the novels means learning empathy. 

This week we joined a lot of other schools throughout our state to wear camouflage in memory and support of four students that passed away at East Carteret High School. I don't know of anyone on our staff that knew the students personally, so for us, the issue doesn't affect us directly. But what's the big deal about wearing camo? Does it really do anything for the victims families or friends? Unless we share pictures of us, they would likely never know. But the act teaches students, even if for just a few moments, to consider how someone else feels. To consider their loss. And to put someone else's feelings before their own. In a world that seems consumed with "me, me, me" I think we need a lot more of this. If you didn't take the time to explain the issue or reason why to students this week, there will certainly be other opportunities in the future. Look for chances to teach empathy. And while it may never be tested in your curriculum, I promise you'll produce better students every time. 

Requiem for a Fight

Unless you've been under a rock this week, you know that we had a large fight and two other "incidents" that followed at the basketball game on Tuesday night. When something like this happens, I always struggle with the perception that it places on our school, our staff, our students, our community, and on me. To sum it up, it's embarrassing. After the gym was mostly cleared of fans and the game resumed, I sat on the empty side of the gym at center court alone. What could I have done differently? What will I have to change as a result? What will I need to do tomorrow for the students and parents involved? All of these thoughts swirled in my head like a tight fishbowl. I take it very personally when something like that happens. I guess that's why I jump in to stop it in the first place. It's our image and it's my job to protect it. 

But if you think Tuesday night was tough, you wanted no part of my Wednesday. That's when I have to make decisions and judgments to clean up the mess. And you can absolutely believe that on my best day, I'll never come close to pleasing most of the people involved. The people directly involved claim very little and people with nothing to do with it bring you a lot of unsolicited answers. By 5:00 pm I had made my decisions, spoken with students and parents, relayed information to my boss, listened to the rebuttals, and decided to leave things as I had them. I like to reflect on big events like this and I had a hard time getting it out of my head that night. I remembered sitting there on that bleacher alone. I wasn't there more than a few minutes before I was joined by Mrs. Willis, then Coach Bryant, then several others. I thought back to the staff members that needed no directions to step up and hold our student section still until they knew that we could get them out safely. I thought about the several that looked for my daughter in the chaos and made sure that she was taken care of. I was never alone. 

And while events like this give fodder to those that choose to gossip, throw stones, or try their hand at being keyboard bullies, it doesn't define who we are. The number of kids doing great things outnumbers the bad on even our worst days. In the words of Sarah Gray (a Greene Central graduate and educator), "Wrong is wrong, and believe it or not 9 times out of 10 our students own their wrongdoing. But I, along with lots of others, see all the good they do, too, every single day. All the times they get it right. All the battles they face and overcome, all the time, that people know nothing about." 

It's always fun to celebrate the accomplishments and the good times, but it's the bad times that show everyone what you're made of. Thanks for being right by my side in this bad time, and thanks even more for defending what we truly are.