September 20, 2013

Perspective...

I'll be the first to acknowledge that I haven't been doing much singing. I've been thinking, noticing, reflecting about the 'noise' I feel and trying to pinpoint just what is creating it.

I know I love our school. I know I derive great pleasure from the teaching and learning that is always going on. So what is the cause of the joy that feels diminished?

Okay - no real rocket science necessary here - it's district and state level 'stuff'. It's coming at us at a rate and pace that brings this visual picture to mind:

Two years ago the district Strategic Plan was unveiled. I remember thinking and saying that it was uncanny that the vision was in sync with what we have already been doing and the philosophy of Expeditionary Learning.

All the 'noise' is because the push is to move all schools within our district closer to the way we have been delivering instruction and our philosophical beliefs. It's just become louder and stronger. But wait - we can actually relax a bit! WE ARE THERE. 
Oh my gosh! I've been racing around trying to figure out how we are going to meet all these requirements...Then, when I unpack the labels and language, I discover - oh, well...we don't have to create that- we already have that. Can we improve on it? Always. But that will always be true no matter how far we go.

I acknowledge that they are asking for lots of forms, software changes, system development...sigh. It is annoying but I've been giving it way too much of my energy for something that matters the least. Maybe this once, we give ourselves permission to be the last ones who get it done? Maybe, because we can agree that when we are prioritizing where we channel our energy, this isn't our first priority? 

CITE/Eportfolio

What? Is she crazy listing this next after she just told us to relax?

I wish I could rewind to the beginning of the year and present this differently. (I was thinking differently then, remember? Correction - not thinking, reacting.)

I'll bet there isn't one of us who would refute that we are better teachers, better friends, better spouses, better parents - just plain ole better people when we take time to reflect. We deliberately incorporate reflection in our practice with our students to develop this habit of mind. There probably isn't one of us who would say we have enough time to do this.

What if we changed our perspective and viewed our work sessions with our Eportfolios as an opportunity to reflect on our practice? Would this shift in our perspective provide a new value to this time? Would having some time carved out of our busy schedule to review the Core Practices help: center us, slow us down, calm us down, ground us, provide clarity and focus for a renewed state of mind every six weeks? It's sounding real again.

Let's try to drop the word 'evidence' from our conversation. What if  it's just about our practice? What if it's just about taking the time to reflect about what's working and share that?  

Perspective matters. Joy matters. Together, we can stay grounded on what matters the most - our students and our passion for teaching. If you need some support figuring out what is zapping your joy, come visit with me. We'll figure it out together and then we will do something about it.

Calendar

Sept. 23 -27th

Monday:
Michelle's 6th graders leave on Voyage - Deborah gone on this trip

Tuesday:
RTI meeting 7:30 a.m.

Wednesday:
All School Meeting
Professional Development - Planning
* Folks who attended the recent ECAW please meet at 1:30 in the library with Noreene. There will be an opportunity to reflect on training, score cold prompts if you haven't done that already, and get support for next implementation steps.





Sept. 30 - Oct. 4th

Tuesday:
RTI meeting 7:30 a.m.
SAC Meeting 5:30 p.m.
REA Meeting 7:00 p.m.

Wednesday:
Professional Development:
REFLECTION TIME - aka: CITE/Eportfolio work time

Friday:
Bootcamp!
4:30 - skip to your cars!



Can you believe how quickly Fall Break arrived??!!
October 5th - 20th (16 days!)
FALL BREAK!
Monday, October 21st - NO students, Staff returns
(Be sure to mention that students do not return until Tuesday in your communication with parents)

A Moment of Silence please....

One more week
of getting Voyages
out the door.
We love you Julie :)

Featured Folks

by Pamela Cogburn

How I came by the Principles I Live by   

Just over two years ago my dad passed away after struggling with a debilitating, identity stealing, life degrading disease. I remember my father, Norman, as a beneficent, empathetic and integrity filled individual. I loved my dad. While far from perfect, he made me laugh, he made me cry and from the valuable time he gave me I learned so much about how to live life.

There was never a joke or witism my dad didn’t like or remember. For these his mind was a steal trap. And he repeated them often, appropriate or not. Growing up, when I did or said something that lacked common sense he would hit the side of his head with his hand and say, “My mother and father were cousins, but I’m OK, I’m Ok, I’m Ok”. Or if I caught my foot and fell, as I lay splayed on the ground, instead of extending his hand I would hear, “Have a nice trip. See you next fall!” or “You Ok, Grace?” From these experiences I learned to accept my faults and take myself lightly.

On our frequent road trips my sister and I would beg him to sing the “Whiskey” song. He would belt out, in an off tone talking kind of sing song voice, “If the ocean were whiskey and I was a duck, I’d swim to the bottom and never come up. Rye whiskey, rye whiskey, rye whiskey I cry, rye whiskey and women I’ll love ‘till I die”. We would sing and laugh together until we’d cry then beg him for another round. On one of these road trips to the mountains after we had finished our picnic and were packing up a large bird flew over my sisters head and, well, you get the picture. My dad led my distraught sister to the river to wash off the mess in her hair laughing and repeating the poem, “Birdy, birdy in the sky. Birdy let one in my eye. But we don’t worry. We don’t cry. We’re just glad that cows don’t fly.” Very funny to us as we lived in the middle of cow country, near Greeley, and experienced the nightly fragrance their digestive process provided. To this he would say, “Smells like roses.” Sometimes he would substitute money for roses. These experiences taught me the beauty in shared laughter and how to find lightness and humor even when times are tough.

 He also had his words of wisdom. My sister, Kristie and I often heard, after dad caught us complaining about some preconceived injustice, “Sounds like a personal problem”. From hearing this over and over I learned to take responsibility for my choices.

My summer job growing up was mowing the many lawns around our house and my grand parents house across the street. As I mowed dad would emerge from his business next door, Norms Garage, to critique my work. He pointed out the spots I had missed and how I could do the whole job a little better. His mantra was, “If you can’t do a job right, don’t do it at all.” While sometimes feeling frustrated during the critique, after I finished and dad told me what a great job I had done I felt a sense of accomplishment. This taught me the value of craftsmanship.

Christmas morning I was always excited for dad to open my gift because I knew he would appreciate it. I knew this because whatever I gave him, no matter how small, he always cried. Giving touched him deeply. This taught me the power of giving and that every emotion we express whether a smile or tear has an effect on others.

Dad was a mechanic, a problem solver. Sometimes he fixed the broken machines he was presented with mechanisms built specifically for them, but when these were not available or too expensive he would improvise. Or in other words gopter together unlikely components that would take the place, at least in the short term, for manufactured counterparts. This skill always amazed me and after an in depth education I now know it was his ability to use pure creativity to solve a problem in an efficient and effective way. This taught me to look at everything in life as a possibility.

I grew up in a very rural community where dad often had to pull farm trucks and tractors out of muddy ditches and fields or to his garage for repair. He did this with his trusty 1949 tow truck, Minnie, the same vehicle he taught me to drive in scared about what I might do to our family car. I practiced by driving to the post office each day to retrieve the family mail. My co-pilot was our Basset Hound, Flopsy. 

The experience taught me the ability to manipulate a stick shift, drive a car without power steering and when to use granny gear. Granny gear is first gear on a tow truck. Good for pulling trucks and tractors out of the mud, but not for traveling at great speeds.  This taught me that to get anywhere in life you have to shift out of granny gear. 

As a single mother raising two incredibly smart, but active boys, my car a Volkswagon station wagon, developed a disturbing noise every time I went into third gear. I shared this with my father who I had hoped would help me by fixing the problem. Instead, he simply said, "Just shift".  I was a little angry at the time, but learned that when life serves you a lemon, just readjust and find a new path. In other words, "just shift".

While not perfect, which taught me imperfection is OK too, my father taught me, through his example, sense of humor and outlook, a resiliency I will be forever thankful. His and my mom gave both my sister and me unconditional acceptance. I hope I am passing that gift on. Miss you dad. 

Have a great weekend!

Deborah

P.S. There won't be a Friday Flash next week as I will be out all week with Michelle's Crew supporting their Voyage. I purchased a good rain jacket and pants this week. The forecast says dry and sunny. You can thank me for the good weather next week!