Handing Over the Keys
While out for dinner the other night I overheard a discussion at the next table that bemoaned the use of social media in schools.
Person A: “There’s enough bullying in the world without giving kids access to another way to bully others in school.”
Person B: “All it’s going to do is distract kids and tempt them to cheat.”
And on and on it went. The same concerns that ranged from fears of cyber-bullying, to cheating, to distractions and it’s a waste of learning time. Hate break it to you, but we’ve unfortunately been dealing with these issues for years, long before the rise of social media.
As I drove home I reflected on the conversation. If I could have scooted into their booth, I would have asked them if they have kids who drive, or if they plan to let their kids drive when they’re old enough. I’m confident the answer to this question would be yes. Driving a car is a fundamental component of our daily lives. And it is fraught with hazards. We may cause an accident with our irresponsible behaviour, or be exposed to others who make driving dangerous for us even though we follow the laws of the road. But we are aware of the risks and as parents we make the decision to support our children as they learn the responsibilities and the rules of driving. Yes, we teach them. They take lessons, we guide them and prepare them. We teach them evasive manoeuvers to avoid accidents and we teach how to appropriately respond to the road ragers. For many of us, if we couldn’t drive we would feel isolated or as though we were missing something vital to our lives.
Social media for today’s youth is the same. It has its hazards and there are some who use it irresponsibly. Kids will be exposed to things we wish they weren’t but we can teach them to avoid that or respond appropriately. But it is up to us to teach them, prepare them and guide them. We need to feel as comfortable with our kids using social media as we do handing over the keys to the car. And we need to trust in our teachers that they can do so within the safety of the school much as parents do at home.
And do you remember how the world just seemed to open wide with possibilities when you learned to drive?
My Magic-Weavers
“They may forget what you said, but they will never forget how you made them feel.”
~Carl W. Buechner
A few weeks ago administrators in our district spent two days at an amazing leadership conference. It was there that I met Sir John Jones where he spoke about creativity, teaching and leadership. He also spoke about the teachers in our lives that are the magic-weavers, the ones who have impacted our lives profoundly because they genuinely showed they cared about us as kids – the teachers who have altered who we have become because of their actions and their words. It got me to thinking about my childhood and my life as a student.
I grew up in a working class family – in retrospect a working-poor family. My dad worked for less than minimum wage and relied heavily on tips. In school, I was much like Hermione from the Harry Potter series – keen, know-it-all, not the most popular with kids, but teachers loved me. Until grade 3. My grade 3 teacher was, for lack of a better word, mean – just plain mean. Forgot your snowpants? That’ll be 50 lines at recess young lady. What this teacher didn’t realize was that sometimes the snow came before my dad’s pittance of a paycheque. I despised her and feared her, and she tainted my love for school. I was ecstatic when she went on maternity leave. I had such little respect for her that when the supply teacher later told us that she “lost the baby” I fought the urge to laugh in disdain. Such euphemisms for a miscarriage were lost on an 8-year old, and I just kept thinking, “How do you not know where your baby is? She’s a terrible mother too”. (It wasn’t until I spoke with my mother that I understood what “lost the baby” really meant.)
But then I met Madame Borrel. She was my grade 4 teacher, and she took what was by then a wounded and traumatized child under her wing and restored her faith in the adults in school. I began to trust again, especially after she came to my rescue several times when confronted by my bullies (yes – Cindy, Allison and Sarah, I remember you too, and not fondly).
Around the time I was 12-years old, two events happened within a very short time of each other. My sister came to us through the foster care system, and my mother became very ill with rheumatoid arthritis. Her RA was aggressive and almost immediately reduced her from a highly independent woman with lots of energy to someone who was bed-ridden and relying on others for a lot of her needs. My sister was frail, needy and in desperate need of a safe family that could provide her with love. And it made me jealous. I was losing my mother to a horribly debilitating disease, and I was losing her to this new member of our family. I didn’t cope well. I withdrew and became snippy. With nowhere to vent my growing feelings, I took it out on school.
By the time I hit high school I was what one teacher called a passive-aggressive underachiever. I sat at the back when I decided to attend classes, and I avoided work like the plague. But my music teacher Mr. Stanutz and my French teacher Mr. Mageau were having none of it. I can’t remember them doing anything extraordinary other than being kind and understanding, and not giving up on me despite my valiant efforts to push people away. And in return I gave them everything I could spare in terms of my respect, my loyalty and my deepest affections. I will remember them forever for it. I may not remember exactly how to conjugate some French verbs or transpose music, but I will always remember how they treated a snarly me when I tried my damnedest to be thorny and invisible. I credit them with getting me through high school with my sanity intact. They were my safe harbour during tumultuous times and never knew it.
So for you, I hope I have triggered fond memories of your magic-weavers. I hope you contact them and share your story with them. And I hope you are thinking about the kids in your building, the ones who need our care the most but may deserve it the least, the ones who are trying to hide or push us away. I hope you are or can be their magic-weaver.
29 Things I’ve Learned as an Administrator…So Far…
It’s February 29th. Today reminds of 100s day, the day where teachers and students celebrate the 100th day of school with special activities and events centred around the number 100. So, taking some inspiration from that, I thought I would reflect upon 29 things I’ve learned since becoming an administrator, in no particular order.
1. Everyone wants to do and be their best.
That goes for kids, teachers and parents. If we don’t fundamentally believe that as educators, then we risk becoming hard and cynical, and then it’s best we get the hell out of the profession.
2. Go slow.
My natural pace is fast and furious. Something new and innovative? Woohoo! Let’s go! But not everyone can function at that rate, especially if it means a change in teaching practices. I’ve since learned that you gain more traction towards a vision if you slow it down and allow others to travel with you, rather than racing to keep up, or sitting out completely.
3. Tact.
It is the art of lighting a fire under someone without burning them. But there is truth in the adage that you collect more flies with honey then with vinegar. This is especially difficult, yet needed most when faced with challenging conversations with staff, students and parents.
4. Students don’t perform/behave any better in the long run when given extrinsic rewards.
Chris Wejr, Daniel Pink, Joe Bower and countless others have blogged about this topic and expressed the principles behind this much better than I ever would. Learning is too complex an activity to respond to the if-then construct and we risk muddying the message to kids if we start tying a physical value to their performance, rather than fostering the motivation to learn because learning in and of itself is the reward.
5. You can have a life.
When I first thought about going into administration, I met with my family to discuss the decision. I knew that it would require a large amount of my time and energy, and if they weren’t okay with that, then I wouldn’t do it. However, I’ve realized that a balance between work and home is what’s going to keep my fuel tank topped up, not working longer hours to get more stuff done.
6. You don’t have to sacrifice time in a classroom to be an administrator.
I’ve often heard colleagues say that they couldn’t imagine being an administrator because they would miss the classroom too much. A highly respected leader in our board responded, “If you’re an administrator, and you miss the classroom, then you’re not a very good administrator.” Strong words, but the spirit behind it holds a lot of truth. Administrators are the lead learners and should be connected to the classrooms. That’s our core business – successful student learning.
7. Be with kids.
Dwight Carter blogged last year and challenged us to have “No Office Days” – days where, aside from emergencies, he would be in the classrooms, on the yard, and just with kids all day. I’ve since held No Office Days as often as I can, where I purposefully plan to avoid my office where the ball and chain of paperwork awaits. Most paper can wait. Kids shouldn’t have to.
8. Have chocolate within easy reach.
I swear it’s been the best form of therapy for my staff. It’s amazing how often teachers will race into my office to grab a mini-chocolate bar, and if I’m there, I grab the opportunity to check in with them. This often leads to great chats about their teaching, what challenges they’re facing, or how things are going at home – asking how their kid’s tournament or recital went; whether their ageing parent is feeling better; or how their latest quilting project is going.
9. Keep the door open.
Just what it sounds like. It gives the message that you are accessible and approachable. I don’t like walking down the hallway of a school where most of the doors are shut, so I can’t imagine it’s any better for staff who walk by my office to a regularly closed door.
10. Get connected – online.
It was only one year ago where I fully realized the power of an online PLN. Since then I’ve become an avid blogger, connected with other teachers, parents and administrators across the world and expanded my thinking and learning in a way I never before imagined. Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, etc. are my learning annexes.
11. Get others connected – online.
Working with staff and parent council to show them the power of connectivity is now a priority for me as an administrator. Having the discussions and inviting all the stakeholders in for the learning has been very powerful for them and for me.
12. It’s about teamwork.
I’m not an island. I can’t do everything alone. At first I wanted to do everything on my own like a stubborn toddler as I was self-concious. I feared having others see me as the newbie and question my abilities to lead. But since then I’ve become comfortable in my VP skin and I regularly seek out others for guidance, support or feedback. I’ve completely flipped and now think that if I don’t solicit some input from others, then they’ll question my abilities as a leader.
13. Thick skin.
I am not always going to be everybody’s favourite person. I can be seen as the messenger, the warden, the killjoy, etc. and I have been at the receiving end of every insult imaginable. It’s unpleasant, but it passes. It’s what is behind the words that I want to focus on and where I want to invest my time and energy.
14. Parents and kids have their own stories.
And some of these stories would break your heart. I often deal with kids and parents at their worst, and it would be easy for that to skew my opinion of them. Knowing these stories keeps me rooted and protects me from becoming jaded. But this is true on the positive side as well. Families and students have an abundance of talents and experiences to share with us and I love allowing that to flourish in our building.
15. You endorse what you don’t challenge.
One of my most powerful learning moments came during a private discussion with a teacher. She had become frustrated with a student – his poor behaviour, his avoidance of work, etc. She began showing me some of his writing and referred angrily to him as retarded. I was stunned – so stunned I didn’t say anything. As I reflected on that, I realized that by remaining quiet, I inadvertently gave the message that speaking about a child like this was okay. It’s something I’ll regret for a long time, but it won’t happen again in my presence.
16. Everyone has leadership in them.
I can let go of the reins, step back and enjoy being amazed at what others can bring to the table.
17. Let everyone have input.
If you want to leverage as much buy-in as you can, let people have a say. Create solutions together. Plan together.
18. People will listen to you, whether you want them to or not.
I remember the very first email I sent to the staff close the beginning of the school year. I had found some planning templates online and wanted to share this resource with others, something I had always done as a teacher. Little did I know that I had unintentionally created chaos among the staff as they thought my message meant –> use these templates. I had some panicky emails asking if it was okay to use other templates as they had put in many hours of planning and didn’t use the ones I had posted. My principal had a good laugh at my expense at that one.
19. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t like.
I hate telling parents things they don’t want to hear. I don’t look forward to conversations with staff that I feel are going to be contentious. But, I keep telling myself that there is a greater good embedded in the muck of difficult conversations if you approach it as such – not so much as solving a problem, but as learning together, or supporting a child in crisis.
20. Look on the positive side.
I’ve learned a lot about appreciative inquiry – about change that is rooted in building on strengths rather than on fixing deficits. People are happy to continue doing what they’re doing if it’s good stuff, but they balk if the focus is on highlighting flaws and placing blame. For change to happen in an organization, the motivation and buy-in will come if we shift our thinking to continuing the momentum in areas that are working.
21. Stop watering the rocks.
Every school has them – the teacher or teachers that are resistant, ineffective and negative. I’ve learned that focusing most of my efforts to develop them is a waste of my time and a huge drain on my energy. As Todd Whitaker advises, start with your superstars. I know who my eager teacher-learners are, and I know that they have huge leverage when it comes to influencing other staff members. I also know that I have parent-learners who are just as eager, and can be just as influential on teachers. Sometimes we can get blood from a stone if it’s not just the administrator doing the squeezing.
22. Be the last one standing.
I am an advocate – for my students, my teachers and my parents. I am their advocate in the face of other students, teachers and parents. I take it very seriously, and it is always my bottom line – is it in the best interests of my students? Period.
23. Walk the talk.
I am a teaching VP, which means I spend half my day as a classroom teacher. While this may seem daunting and it certainly presents its challenges, I’ve learned to see it as the “doing” part of my “talking”. Yes teachers, you and I are literally all in this together.
24. Be transparent.
What I do is no big secret. I went into the role thinking that I was the gatekeeper for all things top-secret, and in some cases I am, but I have learned to be as transparent as possible in my decision-making, from everything from what guest teachers are called, to who is hired in the building, to how I intervene with student behaviour. This allows my actions to speak on behalf of my beliefs as an educator, and my door is always open to questions and concerns. We may not agree, but I hope that teachers know that I am always willing to talk about it.
25. Everything is great.
I have a smile on my face 99% of the time at work. My car could have broken down, I may have had an argument with my kids in the morning and I may not have yet had my morning coffee. A parent or student could be driving me nuts but when asked, I am always doing great.
26. We are partners with our parents.
I can’t put my finger on why, but at first working with parents made me very nervous. I think it’s because I have a deep appreciation for the responsibility we have when it comes to educating kids, and parents will let us know if they think we’re not living up to our end of the bargain. But I truly enjoy working with parents and I value how I can work with a team to ensure the success of our kids.
27. Don’t be afraid to fail or make mistakes.
Failure means you’re about to learn something. As a former perfectionist it has taken me a while to not simply accept this, but to embrace it. The process is where I learn the most about myself as a learner, a leader and a person.
28. If you’re wrong and you apologize sincerely it means a lot to others, especially kids.
I can remember apologizing to a student because I didn’t believe him about a situation where there was a fight. So I apologized. He mumbled something and left my office. When I got a call from his father later that day I thought, “Oh boy, now I’m going to get it.” But I got a thank you. His son came home and spoke about the impact my apology had on him. When I thought my misplaced accusation had ruined our relationship, my apology had in fact strengthened it.
29. I don’t know everything.
Knowing I have more to learn is wisdom. Thinking that I know it all is arrogance.
I know that everyone’s learning is different and I would love to hear the powerful learning moments you’ve experienced.
Happy February 29!
Educators for PinterestEDU
After Debbie Fucoloro (@debbiefuco) and I connected on my previous post on edu-pinning, she offered some concerns she had about Pinterest’s ability to create safe learning environments for students. Debbie then suggested that Pinterest would be wise to create a companion site as Glogster and Symbaloo did; a PinterestEDU if you will. I’m not sure if she was being tongue-in-cheek or not, but at the mention of a petition, I thought, why not? Educators are quickly realizing Pinterest’s value as a social learning tool, minus the safety parameters of a site geared for educational use. So we collaborated on a friendly online petition, and it is now ready for signatures.
If you are an educator who uses Pinterest as a learning tool, or who recognizes its potential for such, please sign the petition here and let’s hope the innovators at Pinterest are receptive.
Fingers crossed!
The “Other” Member of my Leadership Team
I’m feeling sentimental tonight. I’ve returned from our district’s Lead the Way night – a night designed to inform, inspire and celebrate our current and future leaders within our board. During a discussion with a small panel of principals and vice-principals that spoke about their leadership journeys, a common message was balance, and taking time for family. We have an exceptionally dedicated and busy leadership team at every level of our district. Making time for family, despite our hectic day jobs, is possible and necessary.
This got me to thinking about my family’s role in my leadership journey, specifically that of my husband. I have been very fortunate to meet many leaders within our board and beyond thanks to my online PLN. All have influenced, expanded and pushed my thinking. But there’s a member of my support group that has done this as well and that’s my husband Chris. He’s a leader within his own field and has a small staff that works with him and for him. We’ve had many discussions among the dirty dishes of our just-eaten dinners about our days and he has impacted my learning and developing leadership as much as anyone else I’ve connected with in the field of education. He’s encouraged me to think of “bad” days as challenging ones. I blogged in an earlier post that challenging days at least offer something new to learn, whereas there’s nothing to be done with a bad day other than dwell on it, and that was his influence. And Chris is not afraid to pull the punches either. Recently I spoke in frustration about a staff member who had come to me in the past week and, to paraphrase, basically commented that she didn’t realize what grade she was teaching. Yes you heard me right, and it’s a long story that I won’t get into. So as I vented and fumed, Chris asked me point blank, “So what does that say about you as a leader in this case?” Ouch. But he’s right. What does that say about me as a leader in this situation? After reflecting, I dropped the ball as an instructional leader here. I have to take some responsibility. I have to work with this staff member to help build effective practice. And I’m okay with that. I was not okay with it when I first sat down at my dinner table, but such is the beauty of having someone push your thinking , give you other perspectives, ask you the tough questions or just simply “snap you out of it”.
There’s been a lot of talk about PLN’s and how they’ve impacted leaders in education. We’ve listed the tools that have enabled the building of our PLNs, tools such as blogs, Twitter, Facebook, Google+, etc. But sometimes, the most influential members of your learning network are as close as your dinner table.







