Right in the Middle of Something

I'm not sure who signs up to be an astronaut; the job looks like there are some real high moments, but on the downside there is the freeze dried food, long time in confined places, bursting into flames on reentry, and absolutely no way to walk off the job. Not that walking off the job is a good litmus test for what makes a good career choice, but if you are in the middle of orbiting our lunar satellite and you disagree with a call made by your supervisor in Houston, you can not very easily rattle the boss's day with a pithy one liner and do the slow motion movie stroll out to your car in the parking-lot. Being an astronaut in outer-space is one of those gigs that I assume keeps your full attention. I can imagine an astronaut picking up the phone out of habit on the first ring and having to explain to his mother, who is calling for advice with leaking faucet, "Umm, Mom, I'm right in the middle of something, I'll call you back."

Not that the school business is parallel to taking off from Cape Canaveral, but it is a gig that I have been neck deep in for nearly 20 years, and I have increasingly found myself thinking, "Well, I couldn't leave now, I'm right in the middle of something." Do you ever find yourself having the winning the lottery fantasy? You see yourself collecting all that cash. There have been times when I have spontaneously had that thought and I could see myself walking away, but more often than not, I find myself having the lottery fantasy in response to some reality I am facing, and the lottery dream is only a reminder that regardless of whether or not I picked the right six numbers on a lotto ticket or not, the work that I was doing would still have to get done before I left to collect my cash.

That seems to be the truth for most of the educators I know. They get into this gig with the big dream that they are going to have summers off, but the truth it, the job sucks them in. Their afternoons begin to fill with coaching and clubs, their weekends with grading and even though from time to time, a loved one says, "Well it sounds like you are working too hard, maybe you should look for a different job," every educator I know sits up straight at that moment and, more often than not says, "Leave? Oh, I couldn't leave, I am right in the middle of something."

This gig may not pay the most, and sometimes the work is a little messy and overwhelming, but I wouldn't trade our industry for one that was easier to walk away from.

#KidPowerClub

It is truly a story I have reflected on my entire life, but never really shared with too many people. I was just five years old, I was shy, and I wasn't sure how to make friends in that new neighborhood. My mom threw open the garage door, told me to have more fun than anyone else, and I would have friends by the end of the day: the Kid Power Club was born. I became the president of my own club, I made a great group of friends, and I never forgot the lessons my mom taught me that day. 

40 years later, I just had the opportunity to stand on stage for 12 minutes and share this story with over 400 people. The tale was originally about making friends as a child, but it has evolved into a report about the importance of our relationships as adults. When we build a network, we have access to better ideas, we have more access to the fuel that inspires inspiration and growth. 

This short talk was the opening keynote at the CapCue Techfest, right here in my home town; I was honored to open the show in front of many of my own colleagues, friends and family. As it turned out, the amazing team from the Sacramento Educational Cable Consortium captured the gig on video and have created this page where the video can be found. I shared it with my mom, and she told me it made her cry. #MomPride is real. You never know what stories are going to be the ones that shape your deepest beliefs, but sometimes, when you share your story, you realize the impact a single lesson has had on what you believe in most.

Last night I came home from #FallCue. What an amazing two days of inspiration. It isn't just the sessions, the resources, or the presentations: it is about the people. Fall Cue is like one big Kid Power Club meeting, where everyone is having more fun than anyone else, where the network is drawn together and no one is afraid to give away their best ideas. If you'd like, take 12 minutes, watch this video and I think you'll know exactly what I mean.

Birthday Parties are for Everybody.

It only happens once a year. All your friends get together. Moms make sure everyone's hair is parted straight and clothes are pressed, but we all know by the end of the day there will be frosting behind our ears and ice cream stains on our shirts. The gig can be at a roller rink, pool-side in someone's backyard, or at a neighborhood park - the location doesn't matter. Everyone who attends gets a little SWAG, a bit of grub, and at the end of the day, no onlooker could really tell which of the exhausted party goers was the actual guest of honor, because birthday parties are for everybody.

I remember my mom taking me to a birthday party when I was 8 years old. I wasn't a shy kid, but I didn't know a another soul at the party. It was a party for the son of a co-worker, so my mom wrapped a gift, slicked down my hair and threw me into the mix. Funny thing is, looking back, I started the day without knowing anyone and ended the day with two new best friends and a room full of people I'd cross the playground to say hello to.

Fast forward nearly four decades: this week, some of my friends and I are throwing a little shin-dig. It only happens once a year. It isn't in honor of anyone, but is really a celebration of everyone. This is the week of the annually awaited CapCue Techfest. On Saturday, we will be gathering 400 like minded EdTech Educators into one festively decorated location. Each attendee, whom I assume are all kids at heart, will grab a little SWAG at the door, play along in a few games and sessions, and belly up to a catered sandwich somewhere around noon. Just like the once a year celebration of a child's first day: this gig is much more about the time we spend together than the festivities that are planned on our behalf. The unplanned consequences of attending an event like this are often the most powerful: you may attend with the intention of learning something new, but instead connect with a person who becomes that friend who inspires you for years to come.

I hope that everyone who attends this weekend sees an old friend, but, more importantly, I hope that each attendee makes a new one. I hope that we all find ourselves in a room at some point, surrounded by like minded people, laughing at our common misunderstandings, as easily as we spontaneously applaud a presenter who wows us with a life-hack that saves us an hour each work week. The most important part of this particular gig is that it is local: organized by volunteers, promoted by passion and intended for everyone. This is going to be Epic!

It's Ok to Never Finish

I just listened to a great podcast by one of my favorite authors, Malcolm Gladwell. He talked about the genius of Elvis Costello, of the famous artist Paul Cezanne, and of the Canadian singer, songwriter and poet Leonard Cohen. Gladwell says that there are works of art and innovation that spring to the minds of some and are instantly finished. The song Bridge Over Troubled Waters, written by Paul Simon and now remade by everyone from Aretha Franklin to Josh Groban, hit its author like an anvil falling from an open window and the song wrote itself to completion in a single sitting. On the other hand, the song Hallelujah, now most famously performed by Jeff Buckley, took Lenny Cohen over 5 years to wrestle from within his mind, and yet, upon release, this first version was a flop. It wasn't until Hallelujah was re-written a second time and and performed by a second and a third artist that it eventually became woven into the backdrop of American music, film and television culture.

Gladwell gives colorful examples of innovations that sprang to life and others that drew out over decades, and to each he assigned a value: Picasso or Cezanne. Pablo Picasso often completed a work on a first attempt, he would work on a single canvas until content that his work was complete; Picasso would sign his name to a piece and then explore onto another work of art, feeling content that the signed painting was finished. Cezanne on the other hand would paint the same piece, over and over, refusing to sign his name to many seemingly completed paintings, because to him they were never completed. Cezanne never finished. Cezanne would literally ask subjects to sit for portraits up to 100 times, and go through as many canvass before he finally signed a work. All the works leading up to his eventually signed canvas were simply formative attempts at an eventual innovation.

Neither method is correct and neither is wrong, there is no single path to innovation. These different takes on creation make me look about the classroom through a different lens. Of course we want our students in the classrooms across America to produce, to bring projects to completion so that we may evaluate their eventual Final Product, but I would argue that in every room arranged with 30 desks there must be a handful of Cezannes. Imagine if Lenny Cohen or Paul Cezanne were rushed to finish a work, to turn it in on time, only to receive a final grade based on a work they hadn’t had time to fully revise. How many students never receive feedback because they are unable to sign their name to a work that is just not complete. How do we allow the Cezanne-child to receive the formative feedback that she needs while gifting her the opportunity to reflect, grow and improve?

Of course we need deadlines and final due dates so that we may evaluate student progress and offer important feedback on completed projects. Afterall, we have a lot of content to power through, and we can’t allow limitless time on every assignment. However, when we are designing opportunities for student innovation, it is important to remember that we may have a Cezanne or two among even a sea of productive Picassos.

My advice is this: allow for innovation. For some Cezanes, it may be ok to never finish. A masterful teacher can find the learning within even the unfinished work, evaluate whether the lesson has been learned, offer formative feedback and guide the group on to the next work of art while respecting that each student has a personalized pace for innovation. Above all, Cezanne was a revisionist. Iteration after iteration changed, morphed and improved his work. For Cezanne it was not the product but the process that captivated his attention. Painting was a process and an opportunity to reflect on each new attempt at innovation. Let's make our classrooms a place that allows for learning to happen through a process of reflection.

The Science of New

Do you remember when you were seven years old and the six month waiting period from the Fourth of July to Christmas Break seemed to take a millennium? Now, as an adult, the same six month stretch seems to happen over a three day weekend. Turns out: there is science behind this. It is the same reason that the trip to a new place seems to take an eternity, driving down unfamiliar roads, searching for street signs or keeping one ear open for the sweet voice of Google Maps to audible your next move in 1000 feet. The funny thing is, on the way back from a first time trip to an unknown destination, the drive home can seem to happen in the blink of an eye, even when the trip out felt like forever.

Neuroscientist David Eagleman explains that “Brain Time,” is effected when we are experiencing something new. As we engage in new activities, we have to slow down, mentally, and take inventory of all the building blocks that make up this new experience. To a child, the memory of Christmas morning is vivid and filled with detailed recollections of joy: these memories are clear because on that morning, a child’s mind is racing to take in every detail of this once a year magical event.  As a seven year old, time doesn’t fly throughout the year because so much is new, so many events across the calendar are having to be deconstructed. A day in the life of an elementary student may hold as many new experiences as a grown up experiences in a month. Imagine, the less new that we experience, the faster we get old, and too often it seems the older we get the less new we create.

For those who have more than a couple decades of roads well traveled under their belt, it takes effort to create new experiences. Often we find ourselves pulling together a unit plan, a lesson, or even a conversation starter that we have used successfully in the past, and why not, common sense says that if it worked well the first time, why wouldn’t it be a home run again? Here comes the science: The first time you launched that lesson plan, it was new, and that was exciting, not only for the students, but for the person who created the plan. You paid attention to every detail, the excitement of the unknown caught your attention and that is why your memory of the event is vivid as a success. The kids were so deeply engaged, during the first time launch of that lesson, not because of the lesson itself but because you were so engaged. There is something powerfully attractive about seeing a grown-up experience something new. So, if we want to slow down the treadmill, bring excitement and memorable joy to our classrooms, we should make a commitment to trying something new.

Dear Admin: Let's Fail Together

Dear Admin,

I want to start by saying that I watch how hard you work. When others in the lunchroom assume that you are just wandering aimlessly from room to room - I defend you. I'm an observer. I see that you are working hard, with all your heart, to keep our school all moving in one direction, and I know that you are doing your best to do right by our kids.

I have been in the classroom a long time. I am good at my job. I build relationships, with kids, and their parents. I engage. I empower my students to grow; I track their growth using data; I share data with my collaborative team. I have perfectly angled borders on my bulletin boards, my room is decked in parent pleasers for Back to School night, I don't fill your office with kids, I attend every staff meeting and I sit somewhere in the middle. What I am saying is - I like the direction our school is heading, I'm following your lead: I'm in.

Ok, well, there is one thing...

Technology freaks me out. It is not that I don't think that I couldn't learn a few slick tips and tricks. It is just that I know, that the minute the tech genie comes out of the bottle, I will have lost my power. The thought of my 30 kids clicking in 60 different directions with every passing minute makes my head spin. I know that in the blink of an eye, and the stroke of a keyboard, students will be down the rabbit hole of flash games and unmentionable keyword searches.

I know this is the pendulum that has everyone swinging, but I somehow stepped off the ride and I am not sure how to get back on. So, I am asking you for help.

I will take the plunge into the icy waters known as the fear of failure - if you will too. I will get the kids on the Chromebooks, creating rather than simply consuming, if you will take the same leap with me.

As the learner charged with leading our staff, It must be scary: the thought of trying something new in front of all of us adults can be a little intimidating. What if you tried some new tech trick to engage staff at a staff meeting and it bombed? What if you stood in front of the staff and committed to using a Google Doc, as a staff meeting agenda, and you set the sharing permissions wrong? What if our staff meeting got completely derailed because we had to stop the meeting to make sure everyone could access the agenda? What if you used a Google Form to get feedback from the staff and you accidentally shared the editable form instead of the viewable form?! What if you asked staff to place their names on a Google sheet indicating which Adjunct Duty they prefer and somebody accidentally deleted everyone else's work?! What if you spent hours taking pictures and editing a video that you placed on youtube to show the staff, and on the day of the meeting, the internet went down?

The answer to each of the horror story questions above is this: you would fail in front of our whole staff...and that would be a good thing.

You would be showing our staff your willingness to try something new. You'd show that you weren't afraid to experiment, innovate and use technology to leverage the creativity of the entire staff. You would fail, you'd struggle, you would feel a flash of embarrassment and a sense of shame, then you would smile, then you'd shrug, then laugh. Then we would smile, then we'd laugh, then we would all realize that it is ok to fail. The whole staff would recognize that if you had the courage to fail in front of the adults, then we should have the courage to do the same in front of our kids.

I'm am looking forward to taking your lead on failure. I will only embrace failure as much as my leader does, so, for the sake of our kids, I hope you are a huge failure this year with technology! Good luck, we are all counting on you.

Sincerely,

The teacher who sits in the middle of the staff meeting.

Opening Night Jitters

Each of us has rehearsed the raising of the curtain in our mind more than once. Summer has come to a close, and whether you are the teacher standing in the front of the classroom, the student in the back seat closest to the door, the parent dropping off at the curb or the principal standing at the flagpole, we have each built up Day One in our minds to be possibly our greatest victory or our grandest failure. What is it about the first day of school that makes even the seasoned veteran second guess the most well laid out plans?

From every vantage point, the opening day of school is filled with firsts, and firsts can be filled with anxieties. The first time you meet your new teacher, the first read aloud to a new class, the first school-wide announcement, the first morning line up in a new line. I have been on the staff side of opening day for almost 20 years: I still toss and turn the night before opening just praying to not oversleep!

When I used to direct school plays, I would have to coach young actors through the opening night jitters every season. It never seemed to matter how well rehearsed the show was, and you never knew who was going to get the biggest set of jitters: one show it might be the lead and another you may have to coach a spear-carrier off the ledge just to get him to walk on stage in a single scene to announce the coming of the king. Regardless of the position within the cast, one sure-fire method I always found useful was this: If you have the jitters, you are probably focusing too much on yourself; you are not aware that you are surrounded by people that are just as nervous as you and maybe need your help even more than you need theirs. Walk out on that stage, make lots of eye contact with the people around you, be a comfort to others, help them by speaking slowly, smiling, and really listening when they speak. The best cure for the opening night jitters is to focus on finding someone to comfort.

So, for each of us who are preparing to raise the curtain on a new school year, I wish us all good luck and a safe journey. If anyone is feeling a little case of the opening night jitters: walk into school on Day One and find someone more nervous than you, make a little eye contact, and let them know that they are going to be just fine.

Have an amazing 2016-2017 Launch!