Doggy Bag

Ever get your hand caught in the cookie jar? What about the poopy bag?

I did. And, I didn’t handle it well.

The other day I was walking my dog. She went, and I picked it up. Problem was there was a hole in the bag. I didn’t notice where the hole was until it was too late. The bag began to leak. I begin to walk quickly in the direction of my house. I begin to get coated. Life gets worse.

My dog, all 65 pounds of her stops, dead in her tracks. She needs to go, again. By this time my hands and arms are beginning to resemble the poop bag. She repeats the process. For those keeping score at home, Bella is two for two.

I don’t even have a bag for the first one, much less the second one, which is on my neighbor’s lawn. I decide retreating is the better part of valor. I wait until she’s done, get my hustle on, and figure I’ll clean up, get another bag, and get her other parting gift. Only my neighbor doesn’t know my plan, he just sees me scurrying away.

“Sir, Sir,” I hear from behind me. I turn. I am literally coated from hands to elbows in Labradoodle poop.

“Your dog went on my lawn,” says an older man, pointing to the spot where Bella did her business. He’s well-dressed, and quite proper looking. Think Fred Gwynne (Herman Munster) sponsored by Polo.

“I see it,” I snap. “I have no room in the bag. I’m coming back.”

“Okay,” he says, staring at me. And, that is where it should’ve ended. But, because of my emotional - mental state right then, it didn’t.

“Is there anything else,” I say, turning fully toward him. We’re about 100 feet away. I lift up my hands and elbows so he can see them. “Or are we good?”

My question isn’t really a question. It’s not even a statement. I’ve just overreacted and unloaded on a neighbor. Who. Did. Nothing. Wrong.

But, my mind isn’t there. See, my Dad is in the hospital. He’s had four bypass surgeries in the last 19 years. He’s not getting enough blood to his heart. The arteries are fully working, it’s just not enough. There’s a lot of plaque around the heart. He’s got two options, stent, or some other crazy procedure I can’t understand. But the man who asked me to be a good neighbor doesn’t know that. He just knows what he sees.

He looks at me, stunned. He wasn’t expecting that response. Because, there was no reason for me to go there. None. And, he’s unsure how we got there. I showed no outward signs that something was wrong (minus the poop coating).

So, he does the right thing. He models graciousness and courtesy: “No problem,” he says, smiling. “Have a good day.”

Me, now I’m doubly angry, because I overreacted and am ashamed of my reaction, and, I still have arms dipped in poop chocolate. I need to make this right, I think. But first, I need to wash my hands.

How often do we form judgements about our students, their families, our teaching peers, or our administration, based on just the information we see? We see a child who calls out, acts out, doesn’t hand in homework, has trouble staying seated, fidgets, argues in a group, and we make a final decision without all the pieces in place. Have we checked to see if: they had breakfast, slept, were told by their parents that they’re moving or divorcing (or both), feel like they have no friends, don’t understand the content, have prior bad experiences in education, or come from a family who mistrusts school? Any, a combination, or all of them, can play a role in the output of a child. But, if we look at an incomplete picture and make a complete judgement, how does that help the child? Doesn’t it just give them the wrong message about us and about education in general, because we’ve made a generalization that many not apply?

We tell ourselves as educators that we need to drop our baggage at the door prior to entering the building. The students need it, and we deserve to give them our best. Remember “exhibit A” (me): we don’t always model appropriate behavior. The motivations behind our poor actions may have no correlation whatsoever to what actually occurred. Who makes a scene covered in poop? This guy, who’s dad is in the hospital, and has bigger issues on his mind than his neighbor’s lawn.

So, the next time we’re ready to make a snap decision as educators, realize that even though we’re older, mature, trained, and passionate about what we do, we’re still human. As adults, we do things we later regret. We handle things poorly. And, children, their families, our peers make these mistakes too. At some point, with enough reflection, adults can figure out why they reacted as they did, and then choose how to move forward. Children don’t have the coping skills or metacognitive skills to understand why they make the decisions they do. Developmentally, their frontal lobe isn’t fully developed until their mid-20’s.

Heck, I could tell you some of the decisions I made in my mid-20’s.

But, I’d prefer not to.

Now, my Dad will be okay. He’s been transferred to another hospital. The surgery will be performed by a doctor who’s last name is biblical. According to those in the field, this man can part platelets. My Dad will have his stent put in, he’ll go home in a few days, and we’ll all move forward.

But for me, I have to move backwards, down the street to my neighbor. I have some apologizing to do.

The Obsessive Educator

A hot buzzword in education is the term ‘connected educator.’ For the past year, I’ve gone to unconferences, EdCamps, and had countless Twitter interactions. We always talk about what a ‘connected educator’ is.

Well, what about an ‘obsessive educator’?

It’s important to recognize this type of educator, too, as they are a strand of the ‘connected educator’. An obsessive educator is eternally hungry for teaching and learning knowledge. So hungry, that they’re never full. They’ll attend Saturday free conferences the weekend before Thanksgiving because they want to learn something, be inspired, meet others like them, and go home with their passion ablaze. Snow on a Saturday in Philadelphia? No problem for the obsessive educator. The pros way outweigh the cons. The obsessive educator burns the candle at both ends, only because there isn’t a third end.

The default setting for an obsessive educator is to communicate. Once an obsessive educator learns something new, they need to try it out immediately. And, then share out: not to brag or show off, but to deconstruct what just happened -- so more learning can occur. They want to break down why something worked, why something didn’t, or what they can do better.

They also want to help others get better. Making an investment in someone else by sharing new knowledge makes the obsessive educator happy. They know at some unknown future point, their investment will pay a dividend because a student will learn. And, that’s in their job description..

The obsessive educator is a teacher first, next, and always. And with teaching, there will be times when their peers don’t comprehend the material. They won’t see its relevance. Why do that? Who has time? Everything is already good the way it is, the obsessive educator hears. However, the obsessive educator sees a different picture than others hear. They don’t see the forest or the trees. Their vision is longer term, and it’s beautiful: a place where we are all connected and an obsession with learning becomes the norm.

But, they understand that their obsession is not the norm now. They understand that not everyone gets stoked when Tom Whitby and Todd Whitaker follow them on the same day. They understand that by taking pictures of the educational badges from the conferences they’ve attended that people they love, respect, and even marry may call them “Nerd Camp.” Because, the obsessive educator believes they get it -- the rest of the world will just catch up soon.

Shiny, Happy People

It was the middle of a long week and there was no end in sight. My priority list seemed neverending. I grumbled as I walked into school. I was tired, and I didn’t care who knew it. My vibe was not a good one. And, it was the wrong one.

The first day I welcomed in a new group of students and told their parents not to worry, that their children would be fine under my care, my life stopped being about serving myself and began about serving others. This job stopped being about me a long time ago, and I’d forgotten about that.

I felt like road kill. And, that’s okay. It’s human to be tired. It’s not okay in our field to let it affect us, because that impacts not just us, but the students we serve, the families who entrust us to keep their children in the forefront of each decision we make, and our teammates who feed off our energy.

That’s why outside of this day, whenever a student or a co-worker had asked me how I was doing, I’ve always told them some combination of: “I’m awesome,” “I’m great,” or, “Never had a bad day.” Because everyone benefits from hearing that. Maybe it lifts us up, maybe it serves as a model for keeping a positive attitude.

Or, maybe my students, parents, or peers walk away and think I’m nuts. But, if they’re tired, not feeling well, or life has dealt them a bad hand that day, I’ve at least given them something else to think about: that guy must be nuts. How is he always in a good mood?

In reality, I’m not always in a good mood. I have arthritis, which can make some mornings tougher than others to loosen up and get moving. I have two boys, a three-year-old, and a 19 month-old. Neither has mastered sleeping overnight. However, I have the potential to wake up and put others in a good mood each day, and that’s a powerful thing. How many people can change someone’s day with a handshake, a smile, a nod of the head, raised eyebrows, or a silly face. Who was I to take away someone’s potential positive mindset because I had a long to do list!? That’s a misuse of power, and, that makes me sad, which is worse than being tired.

As I walked into my classroom, I reflected on how I felt, acknowledged it, and put it aside. Because, my day was now about investing in others: making each person I came in contact with feel significant, that they belonged to something, and the environment they came to each day was fun. This was no place for a sleepy party pooper.

I checked my coffee and diet soda to make sure I was armed for the day, turned on the tunes, and sat at my desk. It was time to review my plans, look at my morning message, and create another positive experience for those I would come in contact with that day.

We may not always feel like shiny, happy people. But, we do need to put that out there for our students, their families, and our peers. They deserve nothing less than our best. We can always nap later.

Creating a Room Full of Leaders

There was a quote spoken twice over a week-long span that resonated with me. The first time I listened to it I tweeted it out. It was a great thought in a presentation full of them. The second time the quote was said, I understood it. There was a difference.

The quote was, “Leadership is what happens after you leave the room.” Irvin Scott, Deputy Director of Education at the Gates Foundation said it during his evening keynote welcoming us at ECET2 (Elevating and Celebrating Effective Teachers and Teaching). A week later, after hosting 50 New Jersey educators at a professional development event on digital leading and learning, Matt Hall, Supervisor of Science and Technology in Bernards Township said the same thing.

So why did it take me two times to truly figure out what they both meant?

It’s a complex thought: the idea that what you do and how you do it will show itself (positively or not) when you’re not there. The rationale is that if we’ve created the right environment, empowered the people in it to be involved in the environment’s creation, agreed upon very specific norms about what’s expected and why when we are there, the people who inhabit the room will continue to follow it when we’re not. 

Why? And, how does this apply to teacher leaders, site-based leaders, and the students they serve?

Whether you’re a teacher or an administrator in a building, chances are, if your environment is running smoothly it’s because you’ve created an expectation about ‘how things are done here’. There is buy-in because those involved were given a voice and a choice in how ‘things here’ operate. Then, once rules and guidelines were established, the teacher or administrator made sure to reinforce expectations when needed, but in a positive way so teachers or students retained their dignity. This created an atmosphere of trust between those in the room and the person in position of power. It’s clear to all who witness a private exchange take place that even if they can’t hear what was said, the way the teacher or administrator handled it was respectful. When a teacher asks a student to step outside for a moment and then never refers to it again, or gently whispers something in a student’s ear and continues their room rounds, the student knows, ‘if I mess up, I’ll be held accountable for it, but I won’t be embarrassed publicly. It’ll be a private thing.’

The same holds true for when a conversation like this is held between an administrator and teacher. When an administrator visits a teacher in their room and has the hard conversation in private this may make the teacher uncomfortable, but it also creates mutual respect. At some point, just as other students know a conversation took place but don’t know the details, teachers know when an administrator spoke to a peer. Someone always sees or hears something. And, when (or if) it’s our turn having that conversation, we’re going to feel comforted knowing it will be handled the same way we know it was handled before. That shows caring.

As a teacher, the note I love to read from a guest teacher when I am absent is: ‘your students were wonderful. They were just a pleasure to teach.’ This lets me know that even when I’m not there, my leadership still is. It’s there because I have empowered my students to be leaders. They police themselves, support each other, have the hard conversation, and hold all accountable (even themselves). Because, they want to. My hope is that when they become a leader in their own field, they will continue to model these qualities and the cycle will continue. 

The next time someone says, “Leadership is what happens after you leave the room,” remind yourself of the time spent in the room to create the environment that functions well when you’re not there. Because, the students aren’t doing it by themselves. They’re modeling leadership in the room you taught them in.

99 Problems But a Mentor Ain't One!

I was having a great week. I had returned from ECET2, a convening celebrating effective teachers and teaching. It was hosted by the Gates Foundation (@gatesed), and all 350 attendees were nominated from major educational organizations. From that experience, I gained new friendships and possible opportunities for future collaboration. Our NJASCD North Region had a successful weekday PD event with Eric Sheninger (@NMHS_Principal) on Digital Learning and Leading. Eric even stayed 45 minutes after his presentation ended to ask me, and my North Region Co-Director, Billy J. Krakower (@wkrakower), how we were doing personally and professionally. Life was good. But all I could think about was some offhand comment someone had made to me a few days earlier.

It was an innocuous comment made to me by someone I don’t know. And, it’s so silly it doesn’t even bear repeating. Yet, I stayed in my car for almost ten minutes before reversing my car out of my parking spot.

In prior posts I’ve written about the importance of treating each other well and modeling it daily, the importance of honesty in our relationships with students, parents, and peers,  and staying true to our core values as educators. I pride myself in finding the good in others, in our field, and myself, which is why as I reflected on this moment, I wondered where my unwavering positivity went. Why would I let someone I don’t know, who doesn’t know me and will never see me again, have a lasting effect on me? Why would I allow someone to take away my excellence?

Eric Bernstein (@bernsteinusc), in his race to write more than I do, wrote a beautiful piece about the importance of understanding who students are as people, and where they are as learners. (http://edge.ascd.org/_Lessons-From-the-Fonz-Part-1/blog/6562962/127586.html). His belief (and mine, too) is: the better we know our students, the more successful we can educate them. I think we can extend this concept: the better we know and are honest with ourselves, the better we can educate our students because we will be in a better place, too. And, it’s important for us to be honest with ourselves, acknowledge what irks us (like a throwaway comment by a stranger), and have a support system in place to assist us when we hear the negative whispers after a comment like that which feeds into our insecurities.

With the hope that this post supports other educators who hear and sometimes can’t block out the negative whispers, here is my advice to keep the faith:

1. Get Some Ed Therapy: Twitter has salvaged my day more than I like to admit. When I’m down, drained, or dejected, I click on my Tweetdeck shortcut and connect with my edufriends. They have become an extended family, one I share my thoughts, questions, concerns, and ruminations about life in and outside of education. I know they will always be my rock when I need them, and hope they know the same is true for me. My #ASCDL2L, #satchat, #njed, #arkedchat, #iaedchat, #edchat, and #ECET2 crew, I love you all. (Hashtag that).

2. Find Your Matt Hall: every person in education needs one person in their district who believes in them and shares of themselves, so we become better by learning from their experiences, instead of having to go through them ourselves. Matt Hall (@MHall_MST), the Science and Technology Supervisor in my district, is that person for me. Because he’s paid his dues, knows my driven nature and my end goals, listens to me when I speak, and guides me when my thinking needs redirection. And, he’s a vault. What goes on with Matt Hall, stays with Matt Hall.

3. Have a Phone Call with Someone from Iowa (or North Carolina, Minnesota, or New York): it was one year ago when I was at a crossroads professionally. I wasn’t sure where my path was leading, or if I could go further. Jimmy Casas (Casas_Jimmy), who I’d known briefly from a couple Twitter interactions, called me and spoke with me for an hour. We discussed me: who I was, who I wanted to be, what my long-term goals were, and why. Jimmy reminded me I couldn’t change my current situation, but I could change my mindset. And it was that conversation, followed by conversations with Steven Weber (@curriculumblog), Kimberly A. Hurd (@khurdhorst), and Maureen Connolly (http://goo.gl/RPN7DH) that prompted me to e-mail Marie Adair (@todayadair), the Executive Director of NJASCD, and ask what I could do to help the organization. Her response: “Whatever you are comfortable with. We’re just happy to have you join us.”

Like Eric Bernstein’s post, I tried to focus on three main points. Additionally, Eric mentioned his desire to keep his message short, but acknowledged the challenges inherent in that. With that being said, I wanted to list the 99 people who have mentored me on the anniversary of my mindset changing conversations. I am not a better person, father, husband, or teacher without them in my life. I have listed Eric Sheninger, Billy Krakower, Eric Bernstein, Matt Hall, Jimmy Casas, Steven Weber, Kim Hurd, Maureen Connolly, and Marie Adair already, so I will start at the number ten, in no order. Each one of them has helped shape and mold me in some way. To acknowledge that, I have included their Twitter handles if they have them. All are worthy of a follow, and will reciprocate sharing ideas with the goal that we all go further together. We may have 99 problems, but a mentor should not be one:

10. David Culberhouse (@dculberhouse)

11. Daisy Dyer-Duerr (@daisydyerduerr)

12. Scott Rocco (@scottrrocco)

13. Brad Currie (@bcurrie5)

14. John Fritzky (@johnfritzky)

15. Jay Eitner (@isupereit)

16. Anthony Fitzpatrick (@antfitz)

17. Diane Jacobs

18. Pam Lester (@njpam)

19. Mariann Helfant

20. MaryJean DiRoberto

21. Tom Tramaglini (@tomtramaglini)

22. Matt Mingle (@mmingle1)

23. Alina Davis (@alinadavis)

24. Fred Ende (@fredende)

25. Becki Kelly (@bekcikelly)

26. Kevin Kelly (@emammuskevink)

27. Tony Sinanis (@tonysinanis)

28. Ross LeBrun (@MrLeBrun)

29. Darren Vanishkian (@mrvteaches)

30. Glenn Robbins (@glennr1809)

31. Rebecca McLelland-Crawley

32. Bruce Arcurio (@principalarc)

33. Scott Totten (@4bettereducatio)

34. Kevin Connell (@WHS_Principal)

35. Krista Rundell (@klrundell)

36. Cory Radisch (@MAMS_Principal)

37. Meg (Simpson) Cohen (@megkcohen)

38. Tina Byland

39. Klea Scharberg

40. Suzy Brooks (@simplysuzy)

41. Eric Russo (@erusso78)

42. Walter McKenzie (@walterindc)

43. Kristen Olsen (@kristenbolsen)

44. Kevin Parr

45. Robert Zywicki (@zywickir)

46. Chris Giordano (@giordanohistory)

47. Jim Cordery (@jcordery)

48. Drew Frank (@ugafrank)

49. Jasper Fox, Sr. (@jsprfox)

50. Kate Baker (@ktbkr4)

51. Megan Stamer (@meganstamer)

52. John Falino (@johnfalino1)

53. Jon Harper (@johnharper70bd)

54. Grant Wiggins (@grantwiggins)

55. Kirsten Wilson (@teachkiwi)

56. Dan P. Butler (@danpbutler)

57. Tim Ito (@timito4)

58. Andre Meadows (@andre_meadows)

59. Tom Whitford (@twhitford)

60. Matt Renwick (@readbyexample)

61. Chris Bronke (@mrbronke)

62. Daniel Ryder (@wickeddecentlearning)

63. Emily Land (@eland1682)

64. Jessica (J-Wright) Wright (@jessicampitts)

65. Phil Griffins (@philgriffins)

66. Jennifer Orr (@jenorr)

67. Sophia Weissenborn (@srweissenborn)

68. Kristie Martorelli (@azstoykristie)

69. Michelle Lampinen (@michlampinen)

70. Manan Shah (@shahlock)

71. Tom Murray (@thomascmurray)

72. Rich Kiker (@rkiker)

73. Irvin Scott (@iscott4)

74. Vivett Hymens (@lotyssblossym)

75. Jon Spencer (@jonspencer4)

76. Jozette Martinez (jozi_is_awesome)

77. Peggy Stewart (@myglobalside)

78. Michael J. Dunlea (@michaeljdunlea)

79. Karen Arnold (@sanford475)

80. Ashleigh Ferguson (@ferg_ashleigh)

81. Jill Thompson (@edu_thompson)

82. Rick Hess (@rickhess99)

83. Maddie Fennell (@maddief)

84. Todd Whitaker (@toddwhitaker)

85. Jeff Zoul (@jeff_zoul)

86. Jen Audley (@jen_audley)

87. Kevin Scott (@edu_kevin_)

88. Kathryn Suk (@ksukeduc)

89. Baruti Kafele (@principalkafele)

90. Peter DeWitt (@petermdewitt)

91. Anthony McMichael (@a_mcmichael)

92. Natalie Franzi (@nataliefranzi)

93. Paul Bogush (@paulbogush)

94. Sam Morra (@sammorra)

95. Spike C. Cook (@drspokecook)

96. Colin Wikan (@colinwikan)

97. George Courous (@gcouros)

98. Scott Taylor (@tayloredlead)

99. Dave Burgess (@burgessdave)

ECET2: We Are Family

What is family?

If you go by the dictionary definition, it’s people who are related to you by common blood and descendants. If you follow the lyrics of Sister Sledge, it’s based on friendship, commonalities, closeness. And, if you were at ECET2, you realize it’s the 350 people you laughed, cried, and shared stories with during a three day convening based on a common passion for being an educator.

ECET2 is an acronym for Elevating and Celebrating Effective Teachers and Teaching, a convening hosted and funded by the Gates Foundation (@gatesed). Each of the educators invited to attend were nominated by a professional organization to best represent them. These organizations put up their A-Team, their MacGyvers, their Shakespeares, believing within each nominated person’s DNA was a common trait: a desire to support the whole child and their families. These attendees were not superheroes. They were more than that: people whose only invincibility was their unwavering belief that all students had the power to learn, as long as we empowered them to do so.

I was one of those 350 edustars. I was nominated by ASCD. Surprised that they chose me, smart enough not to question it, just thankfully blessed, I humbly accepted. (Didn’t want them to reconsider). I would find out later that this “Why me?” question was another commonality my new edufamily shared, because in our minds just doing our jobs got us here.

Our role at home was to help raise and nurture the next group of societal leaders, using our classroom and subject matter as the forum to teach problem solving, questioning, active listening, collaboration, teamwork, and advocacy. As ECET2 attendees, we would model, rinse, and repeat these skills through three intensely thought provoking days, 8,000 feet above sea level, in Snowbird, Utah.

The elevation in the ECET2 acronym meant raising our edugame through guided discussions, interactive presentations, Ted-style talks, and social downtime. We met in small, colleague circles, discussing chosen focus topics. We shared resources, asked questions, and actively listened, all under the agreement that the first rule of colleague circles was you don’t talk about colleague circles. It was the law of Las Vegas: what goes on in the circle stays in the circle.

This respectful collegiality, this understanding that our takeaway from each colleague circle, presentation, and discussion was to learn from and with each other, signified the power of a phrase I learned from George Couros (@gcouros): the smartest person in the room is the room. Or, as my friend and ASCD co-presenter, Eric Russo (@erusso78) said during our presentation on EduCore, “Barry and I were geeking out before with our breakfast table. Talking growth mindset, special education, school culture, and problem of practice, sharing documents we created, all while eating bacon.”

We all geeked out with each other by alternately learning, teaching, and leading so each member of our ECET2 family got better. So they could celebrate their new knowledge within their district, school, and student families. And, so we could all feel a little more effective in the process.

Katie Novak (@katienovakudl) called ECET2 “a movement.” I love her thinking, but it runs deeper than that for me. Originally, I saw the nomination by ASCD and the invitation to ECET2 by the Gates Foundation as a sign that ‘I’d made it’. When I attended the convening, I realized the  ‘it’ was just the beginning of the journey. The real test to see whether I was worthy of my invite and had learned from my experience was what I would do next. How would I show my appreciation for my experience with my ECET2 family? How would I pay it forward to my edufamily at home?

The underlying approach to learning at ECET2 was to challenge and provoke our thinking through honest dialogue. No one at the convening did this better than Rick Hess (@rickhess99), of American Enterprise Institute, and Maddie Fennell (@maddief) who co-presented on ‘Cage Busting Leadership’. I asked him if he was interested in collaborating on a weekly Twitter chat. I believe our extended education family needs to hear his voice, have an opportunity to interact with him, and grow from these discussions. Rick’s response: “Love the chat idea...will figure out a way to make this happen.”

Challenging and provoking thinking comes from teacher activism. I touched base with Jessica Wright (@jessicampitts), Suzy Brooks (@simplysuzy), Chris Bronke (@mrbronke), Jen Orr (@jenorr), Vivett Hemans (@lotyssblossym), Emily Land (@eland1682), Tamera Dixon (mstdixon), and Dan Ryder (@wickeddecent). They are my pre-ECET2 family. We’d organized and led a Twitter chat the night before the convening began (http://storify.com/barrykid1/pre-ecet2-twitter-chat-on-2-16-14). We’re going to continue that discussion with a bi-monthly Twitter chat for all past and present ECET2 attendees, as well as any educators interested in Elevating and Celebrating Effective Teaching and Teachers. We’ll expand and turnkey focus topics discussed in Utah, and globally extend our colleague circles. Maybe members of the Gates Foundation, like: Dr. Irvin Scott (@iscott4), Dr. Vicki Phillips (@drvickip), Nate Brown (@hnborown1), Amy Hodges Slamp (@amyslamp), and Isis Randolph-McCree (@isismccree) would guest moderate. (hint, hint).

Teacher activism needs to be local, too. I connected with the three other New Jersey attendees at the convening: Peggy Stewart (@myglobalside), Michael J, Dunlea (@michaeljdunlea), and Katherine Bassett. With the help of our new friends from Pittsburgh (@ecet2pgh) who’ve previously hosted a regional ECET2, we’re going to figure out a way to do one too, to elevate and celebrate our effective teachers and teaching family in New Jersey. We’d love to collaborate with others on this, so if others in our area would like to pay it forward with us, let us know.

I know Sister Sledge and the dictionary both have it right: family is bound by like DNA, commonalities, and a similar mindset. That is why we say our close friends are ‘like family,’ and certain friends are ‘my brother,’ or, ‘my sister.’ From my three days in Utah, my edufriends became edufamily. And with their help and support, who knows what we will achieve? Regardless of outcome, our journey will continue together as we elevate and celebrate each other, and make one another more effective in the process.

Author’s note: to honor all who influenced me and helped make me better, I noted people’s Twitter handles. They’re great teachers, and even better people. Give them a follow. They’ll make you better, like they did me. And, you won’t have to go to Utah to do it.

Find the Good

Find the Good.

 

When I first started teaching, I’d heard and read of the importance of finding something to like about each student, even the student whose positive qualities were hard to find. I was told, “It can be as simple as the color shirt they’re wearing. Maybe they’re wearing red and you like red.Use that to drive your interactions with that student.”

Thirteen years later, I realize what the messenger meant. I think they meant: “maybe the child has a nice sense of style. They dress well. The shirt is a cool one, and I wish I could get away with wearing that one now.”

I hear from time to time when meeting with parents: “I know you have your favorites. It’s natural, everyone does.” I agree with the premise, that some students are very personable: they come in with positive experiences about school and the world. Perhaps they have a great support system. They’re charming, social, or their wittiness is matched by great comedic timing. They’re easy to like. They’re easy to find the good in. You don’t even need to tell them, they know. Someone’s probably told them before you even met them.

However, we didn’t get into this field for the easy. We did for the intrinsic rewards: the ability to create positive change by finding the good in those who may not know the good they carry. To shine a light on what’s not readily evident. To search, find, and celebrate. We’re unique. That is good.

Sounds easy.It’s not.

Students, their parents, and we educators all come into our environment each day an unfinished product. We’ve got our warts, our schemas, and our issues. Sometimes they’re easily visible, and sometimes we just think they are. While we cannot change anything that has happened when we were wards of the education system, we can create a positive one for those who move forward through it now. That means we can embody the good, find the good in others, make sure we call attention to it so the student and their parent knows it, and use that knowledge to help the child and his/her support system trend positively from this point forward. 

This repeated process enables us to find the good quicker in others, as the lens we look at people through has changed. It keeps us positive during the challenging days. And, it reminds us that all of us are capable of growth and learning. We just need to be willing to stay consistent to the process, because finding the good is a repetitive one. Find it enough, and it will find you, too.

ASCD has found the good in me. Members of the organization nominated me and three of my peers to attend Elevating and Celebrating Effective Teachers (#ECET2). This event is sponsored by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. The 250 of us invited by the Foundation, will connect, collaborate, and leverage the goodness in each other. Prior to meeting everyone this coming Monday, we will host a Tweetup on Twitter Sunday night from 8 - 9 PM EST. All current and past ECET2’ers are welcome. Our goal is to find the goodness in each other, carry that with us to the convening, and turnkey it back home to our students. 

 

Find the good. 

 

Then, let it find you.