Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Moving Forward By Looking Back

Roughly seven months ago I shifted out of my paradigm of seclusion and began this blog.  Writing being one of my natural talents (catching largemouth bass the other), I’ve enjoyed having a reason to write and am thankful for the audience that has continued to check in to read my musings.  From the start I wanted to offer a variety of posts but expected I would write about teaching and nature more than other topics – thus, the title of the blog….that, and my first choice for a title was taken (“Thought Droppings”).  At times I have found blogging to be therapeutic and at other times stressful, becoming just one more thing to get done.  Every post I’ve written, though, has had one common thread: they have all forced me to think.  None more-so than this post about end-of-the-school-year countdowns.

That post was simply the worst entry I’ve created.  The writing was fine, the idea sound, the motivation justified…but it completely missed the mark I wrote towards, proven by some negative feedback that came from unexpected sources.  I don’t write hoping for praise, but I rarely write anything with the hopes of making people mad either.  So I’ve read and reread that post dozens of times, fueled by a desire to grow from failure and avoid such a disappointing misstep in the future.  Here’s what I’ve learned:

1.       Never begin writing after 10:00 p.m.  It was after 11:00 when I began that post and well after midnight when I finished.  After teaching all day.  With very little energy left in my body or mind.  Dumb.
2.       Write to inspire, rather than scold.  The intent of that post was to encourage teachers to hang in there and teach like crazy until the final day of school.  Instead I criticized the tools they planned on using to do just that.  Dumb.
3.       Reserve judgment until observation is complete.  I was specifically critical of an alphabet countdown that I hadn’t seen used before…or didn’t remember being used before.  A 26-day countdown seemed as silly as Halloween merchandise hitting store shelves on July 5th.  After watching the countdown unfold over the past few weeks I have a much different opinion – it was silly (dumb) of me to discount something that has been great fun for the kids and kept them excited about coming to school.  I saw the effectiveness of the activity through my teacher eyes but also as a father; my daughter is in one of the classrooms doing the countdown.  Which helped me learn to…
4.       Analyze the audience.  We spend too much time in this PC nation worrying about who might take offense to what, but that doesn’t mean we can’t take a minute to think about the feelings of those readers who are closest to us.  I crushed my daughter’s teacher with that post.  I caused hard feelings in others, too, but none more than Mrs. Joy.  Yeah, that’s right – her name is “Joy”, she’s an excellent teacher, my daughter loves her, she’s one of the kindest and sweetest people on the planet, and I drove daggers into her heart with my words.  Beyond dumb….barbaric might be the better word.
5.       Thinking, in it’s various forms, is extremely powerful.  My major mistake when writing that post was a lack of thinking as I wrote.  I wrote it late and I wrote it fast.  The thought put forth while writing was minimal compared to the thinking done since; a reversal would have produced a better initial product.  While reflective thinking, as I’ve done here, is nourishing when it’s about self, the limited thinking in that post reflected on others and was nothing more than arrogant.  And dumb.


As I’ve grown older….or just old….I’ve been more conscious about making an attempt to learn something from everything.  Some experiences contain a nugget of new knowledge and some are like landslides, dropping learning opportunities the size of boulders on all sides of me.  If success is built by overcoming failures then the landslide triggered by that poorly written blog should, now that the boulders and debris have settled, provide some firm footing for moving forward with better, more thoughtful writing.

Thursday, May 26, 2016

Another blog about nothing...

This month’s “blog about nothing” is being brought to you by Mental Drain-O….the feeling you get when there’s just a week until the end of a long school year and it takes every ounce of your power to…..see what I mean?  I can’t even come up with an ending for…..ugh, this could be a tough job.

**I just watched a little bit of the Toronto-Cleveland basketball game until the Cavs got up by 30 in the first half.  (I’ve tried really hard to make a witty observation about Toronto’s lousy shooting somehow being connected to the currency exchange rate…no luck)  Two observations kept spinning through my head:  1) I still find it really funny that the Raptors are so-named because of Jurassic Park dinosaurs, and that they used a dinosaur as a mascot until someone politely informed the team that a raptor is a bird of prey.   Now they just use a big scaly claw or a freaky garden rake or something.  2) Lebron gets all the commercials and Steph gets all the headlines, but during these playoffs I’ve been reminded that the two players I’d most want on a team I was starting from scratch both play in Oklahoma.  You can keep your King James and your Splash Brother – I’ll take Kevin Durant and Russell Westbrook any day.  We’ll be the “D-Wrecks”, and we’ll have a pink dinosaur for a mascot.

**I’m writing this tonight because I have to write out some graduation cards tomorrow.  How come greeting cards aren’t more honest?  Instead of “Best Wishes” to a graduate why not “Enjoy your last days out of debt.”?  Or “If you thought high school was hard….you have no chance at a college degree.”  How about “You made it!  We’re as stunned as you are.”  Or for birthdays, why not “I can’t believe you’re another year older.  You looked ready to die about four months ago.”  For the new parents:  “It’s a good thing that kid will fill your hearts with love, ‘cause it’s gonna empty your fridge, bank accounts, and accumulated sick days.”  Honest sympathy cards would be nice:  “So sorry he/she is gone.  We really hoped you would go first.”  I won’t quit my day job.  (oooo, one more:  “I bet you’re mad about getting fired this week so I could make up for the bet I lost about you getting fired last week.”)

**There’s a robin nesting on the patio lights above my patio door, a mourning dove doing the same in my patio fence, a wren (I think) is nesting in both of the bird houses (and that’s not easy to do) inside the patio, and now a young rabbit has decided to live inside the drain pipe of my gutter downspout.  You wouldn’t believe the commotion when I step out the door – wings and chirps and banging metal.  The birds sit in the trees and scold me, the rabbit whimpers inside the pipe.  I feel like an intruder.  Oh, and do any of you readers have a decent rabbit stew recipe?

**Daughter 2 went to a Walking Dead convention today and suddenly, by golly, a Minnesota Twins game broke out!  Her favorite player (Brian “I’m gonna pull every ball you throw to me even if you pitch me outside and put all seven fielders to the left of second base” Dozier) hit a homer, hot dogs were only a dollar (so she bought cotton candy, lemonade, and a water), and she got to see a team score fewer runs than the Twins.  Hearing the excitement in her voice as we talked about her day was one of those cool moments of parenting…even though she didn’t follow my instructions to boo loudly and early and often.


That’s enough nothingness for this month.  Thanks for reading…and patiently waiting for a real topic to appear.

Monday, May 23, 2016

Should I stay or should I go?

Is it better to have the right job in the wrong place, or the wrong job in the right place?  This is the dilemma I’ve wrestled with for several weeks as I’ve looked at multiple job openings, applied for several, interviewed for a couple, and turned down one offer.  A different offer may be on the way in a day or two; actually, it will be the final offer, as this potential job is the last possibility out of the openings I’ve applied for.  So again, right job wrong place or wrong job right place?

My current job feels right.  The place it's in has slowly become wrong.  Can the enjoyment gained from doing what I like overpower the drain of doing it in a place I don’t?  Would being in a better place matter if I didn’t really like what I was doing?  A dilemma, this is.  A clear answer, there is not.  Take a leap of faith, I must.

Last week was offer one and interview two, with interview one being the week prior.  For roughly a week and a half I’ve been consumed by the questions I’ve put forth above.  I’ve barely blogged.  I’ve withdrawn from Tweeting.  Sleep has been scattered and mood swings frequent.  So now, finally, I put the debate in my head on a screen before my eyes.  Kinda wish I’d have done this a week ago.

I keep looking back at the two questions in paragraph two.  I’ve mentally played with those questions a little bit but have never made myself answer either one until right now.  The answers I’ve settled on are “maybe” and “no”….which leads to a third answer, the answer to a question as yet unasked – “Would you like to come teach with us?”.  If that question comes, I’m going to have to say “no”.

The luckiest folks love where they are and what they do.  Having one of those be true is better than risking having neither be true, which is what I’d be doing at a brand new job.  So I’ll settle for being lucky enough to do something I enjoy.  I’ll stop putting energy towards searching for greener grass and instead start fertilizing the grass where I’m at….yeesh, that sounds disgusting.  I’m also going to stop rambling on about this personal conundrum – but I’d love to read a comment or two on this topic.  Anyone out there been through this struggle?  What did you choose?  Did it work out?


As always, thanks for reading.  Stay tuned - I have a feeling this blog (and this decision) is more of a beginning than an end.

Monday, May 16, 2016

A Most Excellent Discovery

A colleague (and friend) of mine was chosen to be one of six winners of an award for outstanding teaching in our great state of Minnesota.  Yesterday was the awards banquet, and I was honored to be the token male at her table of family and friends as she received her recognition and cash prize.

The day consisted of a delicious brunch, a welcome address, introduction of self by the entire room, a keynote speaker, speeches by all six recipients, the presentation of awards, and picture/hugs/crying time.  As each segment of the day unfolded I began to consider the tremendous, and rare, opportunity I’d been granted by being invited to tag along to such an event - I was completely immersed in excellence.  The food: excellent.  The facility: excellent.  The keynote address: excellent.  The six recipient speeches: excellent.  The recipients themselves: obviously excellent to receive such an honor.

Looking deeper, I realized the crowd was comprised of people who all had achieved excellence in different ways.  Each award winner was allowed to invite up to ten people to sit at his or her table.  Many recipients brought parents; excellence is not nurtured by anything less than excellent parenting.  Several of this year’s winners were colleagues or friends of past winners of the same award who were invited to be in attendance.  When each person in the room was given the opportunity to introduce himself or herself all spoke eloquently and many were professionals of high standing in their chosen field.  Looking around our table I saw an excellent educator in each chair.  I cannot recall ever being surrounded by such a high level and percentage of excellence in a group of people.

So what?  What’s the big takeaway from this day?  Besides the 14,000 calories I was able to consume I took with me the importance of minding our surroundings.  Not just being aware of what’s around us, but making conscious decisions about who we choose for our social environment.  Vygotsky stated “children grow into the intellectual life around them.”  Adults do the same, but unlike children adults can make choices about the intellectual life, and the level of excellence, that surrounds them.  If we aspire to be excellent, we must live in excellence.  The six excellent educators who so deservedly were honored as such spoke about, and surrounded themselves with, excellent people.


I do not advocate turning up one’s nose to others based on the perceived level of their excellence; however, if members of our social circles impede our growth rather than contribute to it, perhaps some social reshuffling is in order.  To achieve excellence we must seek opportunities to be in the company of those who have reached a level of success we aspire to reach ourselves.  Let’s take stock of who moves in and out of our time and be mindful of those who nurture our growth and those who impede it.  Excellence is not achieved alone; neither is mediocrity.

Friday, May 13, 2016

And unto us that day, a reader was born....

I’m not sure what I saw in her eyes yesterday – pride, joy, relief, satisfaction – nor what label to give the moment – magical or miraculous - but I have no doubt that in the space of one breath I watched a destiny of darkness pushed aside in favor of a bright future.  I witnessed the birth of a reader.

You have to understand, the birthing process of reading is unlike the birth of life.  Yes, both can be messy and somewhat painful (somewhat, says the male author), but there are two major differences between birth of life and birth of reading:  A) reading is born differently in every single human, and B) reading does not burst onto the scene in a storm of screams and…..well, I’m not exactly sure what all comes bursting forth at the moment of birth; I stayed as far north as possible when my three daughters were born, if you catch my drift.

The reader that emerged in front of me yesterday left Kindergarten with the reputation of being a difficult child to work with.  She spent most of first grade solidifying that reputation.  She would refuse to read, she would agree to read but in a voice too quiet to hear, she would argue error correction, she would yell at her reading partner for telling her to read louder and then argue that she couldn’t read any louder than the whisper she usually read with (all of these in the span of two minutes, by the way).  On her bad days she would simply put her head on her desk and do nothing.  Her present produced failure; her future was clouded.

Enter the staff of the school this young lady attends - the staff at Fairview Elementary in Mora, MN.  A staff dedicated to student success.  She has a terrific classroom teacher who doesn’t stand out as such only because that teacher is surrounded by outstanding teachers in all corners and hallways of our PreK-2 building.  She is cared for by a cadre of paraprofessionals who deserve the label, and pay, of “teacher” for the effort they put forth every day to make all students be and feel successful.  She is supported by caring administration and office staff, social workers, kitchen staff, and custodial personnel, all of whom arrive at our building each day and make sure her basic needs are met.  She attends specialist classes with teachers who help her realize she has talents not found in books or on number lines.  Though life had given her a rocky path with far more valleys than hills, her destiny met its match when she walked through Fairview’s doors.

There were tears.  There was anger.  Glimmers of hope were snuffed by stretches of poor effort and regressed skills.  But there were also hugs.  And some smiles.  And with time came more consistent effort and less arguing.  Confusion was replaced by confidence, reluctance by readiness, failure by fluency.  These changes took months; each day seemed similar to the prior but progress was measureable when gauged by weeks.  A reader was emerging, a birth was happening – teachers could see it, paras could see it, and maybe she could feel it, but it wasn’t until yesterday…..

It’s spring benchmark assessment time.  Testing week.  One of our three assessments is a measure of words read per minute.  Target score is 70.  Students read three passages for one minute each, middle score is the score.  I sat with her in our art room (it was empty, and quiet, and that ain’t easy to find in our building) and listened to her read passage #1 – she scored a 58.  I was pleased, considering her fall score was 3.  Passage #2 was the easiest to read for most kids; she scored a 73.  73!!  She passed the target, meaning if she could somehow hit 70 on the last passage she would be an on-target reader!  As she moved through passage #3 I tried counting her words but the pounding of my heart was too distracting.  With her minute up and her last word marked I hit “submit”…….and watched a 72 pop onto the screen.


I looked at her.  She looked back, a hopeful grin curling up on a corner of her fluent mouth.  I asked if she knew what she just did; she did not.  I smiled, a genuine smile that kids don’t see often enough, and said, “You just read 72 words.  You made the target.”  Her grin grew as her eyes filled with tears.  And in that moment, with no more words passed between us, I welcomed a new reader to the rest of her life.