Saturday, September 21, 2013

Guilty...but with a Plan!

I've been accused and caught.  In fact, I've been caught--red-handed--doing what I know is wrong--multiple times.  And...I know I'm guilty...very guilty.

It started simply at the beginning of my career.  There were two IBM desktops in my very first classroom that used 5.25 inch floppy disks to load programs.  The screens were tiny and green, and you had to know DOS in order to make them do anything.  No internet.  No email.  No wireless.  No cell phones.  No tablets.  No Facebook, Twitter, (or even blogs)!  How did we ever survive?

Over the years I became more tech savvy as the revolution moved through more generations of innovation than I can remember.  Along the way I feel like I have adapted about as well as expected.  I've tried to be on or even a little ahead of the curve.  Now, of course, I carry a "smart" phone that has (probably) more computing power than what was used to put a person on the moon.  Our schools and even districts are completely wireless.  Our classrooms have interactive whiteboards, document cameras, and sound systems.  Each staff member has a workstation with lightning-fast internet access, and I even have a tablet which is from our district.  We are clearly connected!

But are we?

Here's where I'm guilty...

Over the course of the last few months our daughters have told me I am "addicted" to my iPad.  When my cell phone buzzes with a text, I feel impelled to check it immediately...much to the chagrin of my wife...even if we're eating dinner...(never driving).  I check my email more times a day and a night than I probably should, and a parent in our school recently politely chastised me for replying on a Sunday afternoon to his simple email request.  He wanted me to be sure to understand that his question could easily be answered on Monday morning, and that I'd thank him later for better prioritizing my life.

It gets worse...

I've caught myself worrying I might miss something if I don't check my email regularly or have my cell phone with me.  Why do I need to wear my cell phone to church?  Really?  Am I going to get a call from.....? I don't think so!  I find myself reading the newspaper, checking email, and scrolling through Twitter feeds before I go to bed at night.  Then...what's the first thing I do in the morning?  You guessed it...I check my email, read the newspaper, and scroll through Twitter.

Here's where it gets really bad...

I've even found myself sending emails and texts at strange times of the day (or night) thinking I'm being "professional" and efficient since I am working so hard.  Sometimes I send a simple note to thank a staff member for helping in a special situation.  Sometimes I send an article or link to a colleague who I know would appreciate the information.  Sometimes, however, I send requests to staff members.  What's unfortunate is many of my staff replies to me at strange times of the day/night!

And now is where it gets the absolute worst...

After I've sent a note or text, I begin to anxiously wait for a reply.  If I don't get a reply quickly, I keep checking or think I might have offended that person.  Of course, waiting for a "quick" reply is relative.  "Quick" 20 years ago meant something completely different than it does now.  The fact is I want an instant reply.  How unrealistic and actually unfair is that?

Some reflection...

I have begun to wonder if my staff thinks it's normal or expected to reply to me 24 hours a day because we are "connected" 24 hours a day.  My hope is they know me well enough that they understand my intent is pure, but they should not feel obligated to be so connected.  And yet, my actions are confusing.  To be clear, I am not concerned when I receive an email or text from a colleague or parent over the weekend or late at night.  I do, however, worry that our need for "instant" communication has left reflective responses in the dust.  Am I the only one who has sent a response via email or text and wished I'd thought about it a little longer?  Don't even get me started on misinterpretations over email.  I know I've sent notes that have "sounded" completely inappropriate once I've re-read them....after I've sent them.

To be honest, I'm struggling.  My iPad has become an invaluable tool in my job.  My cell phone has helped me communicate with more people.  Our instant, electronic communication is efficient, and I see great value in the ability to connect with people quickly.  But is efficient the same thing as effective?  I enjoy writing this blog, and I know our school benefits from our social media presence.  I also know technology used appropriately as a tool has made a difference in our students' learning and motivation to learn.  Most of all, I appreciate I can call a teacher or other colleagues 24/7 in an emergency situation or that a colleague can contact me for help or support.  As a father, of course, I'm  glad our daughters and I can be "in-touch" no matter what. 

But, am I really "in-touch" with my daughters if I'm replying on a Sunday afternoon to an email that clearly could have waited until Monday when I should be playing a game or exercising with them?  Am I "in-touch" with my family if I'm texting during dinner?  Am I "in touch" with my wife if I'm scrolling through Twitter instead of talking with and listening to her? 

At work, am I "in touch" with my staff if I'm constantly sending them emails?  When do we take time to listen...deeply?  When do we take time to dialogue...deeply...for our students?

I can answer these questions for our school.  I am in classrooms each day and share and listen with staff on a regular basis.  I survey staff at the end of the year to make sure I am listening and valuing their input.  We have several committees where we dialogue, plan, discuss, and report how to make our school better.  We have student support team meetings which make a huge difference for our students.  And we meet often with parents during planning times or lunches, before or after school, and at conferences.  Also, our Administrative Council has agreed to "unplug" during our monthly meetings.  Our district superintendent reminded all staff at our opening day celebration that relationships matter more than anything.  Clearly, our school and district see value in clear communication which is not distracted by all that I have shared (confessed??) here, and for that I am grateful.

An experiment...

Our school actively teaches our students to Be Proactive and to Put First Things First.  Like you, my family and the relationships I have in my family are very important to me.  At work, I share this openly and expect my staff to prioritize their lives.  We give 110% for our students and school, but can we truly give that 110% if we are not giving 100% to our families? 

So...I've decided to undertake a personal experiment.  For one week once this blog is posted:
  • No school email/Twitter/Facebook once I'm home.
  • No cell phone at church.
  • No email or texting...during dinner or other family activities.
  • No iPad near our bedroom.
I will still be connected.  My staff has my home phone (Yes, we still have a land line...and an answering machine.).   Those closest to me know our family's regular routine and schedule.  They will understand and know how to find me.

What do I hope to learn?  Since I don't plan to tell my family about my experiment.  I will just see if they notice any changes in my behavior at home.  I'd really like it if my daughters, wife, and I have more time to interact, exercise, and be together...really together.  I will report in my next blog post.

In the future, I could see a few experiments in my use of electronics while I am at school.  I wonder what behaviors I could change to help me better connect with my staff and ultimately with our students and families?  Please feel free to leave me any comments  or suggestions.  I'll take a look...when I am at work.

Monday, September 9, 2013

The "Book"

As a heavy equipment mechanic, it was not uncommon for for my father to come home at night soaked in fuel, oil, mud, or grease.  For over thirty years he worked in a shop and on construction sites repairing earth-moving machines that can literally move mountains.  Whether the company was laying pipe, building a road, or constructing a landfill or waste-water treatment plant, it always seemed like Dad came home each night with a new story about how a machine broke either buried in mud or deep in a hole.  Of course, the machines never broke while on a flat, dry piece of ground or in the shop!  And yet, Dad made sure the bulldozer, crane, or backhoe was repaired and repaired well.

Some of my fondest memories as a young boy were being able to "help" Dad on Saturday mornings whenever he had to go to work to get a machine ready for Monday.  Usually early in the morning, we'd reach the job site and figure out what was wrong with the machine.  I'd pass him tools or hold a flashlight, and after the machine was repaired he'd get a gleam in his eye and say, "Let's see if this thing works!"  First he'd set me in the seat and show me how to start the engine.  Then he would hop down to look for oil leaks.  Once all was clear, we'd dig a hole or push some dirt just to "make sure" the machine was really fixed.  As a 7 or 8 year old boy, I was in heaven.  Who wouldn't enjoy operating machines the size of a small house!  It really was a great feeling, and I cherish those moments with Dad.

Then, the "book" arrived.

Apparently new repair manuals were printed that stated how long replacing a certain part or completing a maintenance procedure should take.  As you can imagine, time is money in the construction business, and Dad's bosses understood the faster a machine could get fixed, the faster it could be working to make money for the company.  The only problem was the people who wrote the books and defined the time it took to fix the machines never talked with the machines!  The writers forgot how much time it takes when you need to walk more than 100 yards to just get to the machine or if the machine is upside down (That's another story.)?  Sometimes the machines were so hot that Dad couldn't even touch the engine.  The "book" became almost a joke during our family dinners because Dad would explain why it took longer than what the book said to fix the machine.  Now, Dad had to explain to his bosses the same thing.  I vividly remember the "book" being a source of frustration for Dad.

I'm lucky.  I don't usually come home soaked in oil, dirt, or grease.  (You just never know what's going to happen tomorrow!)  And while Dad worked on machines that could change the world by moving mountains, I get to work with professionals and young people who are changing the world in their own way.  I love my job as a principal and teacher, and I am grateful for what both of my parents sacrificed so my sister and I could go to college.

Now, however, I'm feeling like a "book" has arrived in my own profession.

Educators are being held to higher and higher standards.  We are accountable for more and more growth of our students.  I need to be 100% clear on this point...I do not shy away from being held accountable.  While I'm not a fan of competition between schools, I will put the emotional and academic growth of students in my school or district up against any school in the country, but I do worry a cloud is hovering over our profession that is forgetting we work with young people who are unique individuals.  In other words, how do we ensure a teacher and principal are held accountable while at the same time recognizing some students come to school hungry, or impoverished, or without support at home?

I work in a relatively economically affluent district, but I still have worked with homeless families and children whose parents are unemployed, have died, or are going through divorces.  I also get informed quite frequently of students who miss school for tournaments, competitions, or even extra-long or early vacations.  I completely understand if a student is absent a few days or if he or she is sick, but we would be naive if we thought regular situations like I listed here did not impact a student's achievement.  But... in two years 50% of my teachers' (and my) evaluation will be based on our students' growth and achievement.

Has the "book" arrived?

I hope not.  In fact, I see hope each time I visit a classroom and see a teacher conferencing with a student so that student can get as much individualized attention as possible.  I see hope when I see my staff working together to share resources, brainstorm solutions, or plan interventions.  I see hope when I hear or our school secretaries-who are balancing answering phones, handling students' bumps and scrapes, and managing the never-ending interruptions from my teachers (or me)-stop to greet and help a new family to our school...with a smile.  I see hope when I see staff members give of their own time and money to pursue additional, specialized training to better help students.  I see hope when I see community or PTO members actively volunteer to help our students.  I see hope when I read regular newsletters from teachers to parents that highlight the activities of the week but also preview the learning targets for the upcoming week and how a parent can help their child be more successful.  I see hope when I see teachers intentionally teaching routines early in the year so they can efficiently use those routines all year long.  I see hope when our school system works together as a school district rather than a district of schools.  Quite simply, I choose to see hope every day.

Has the "book" arrived?

As people who care deeply for young people and the future, I believe we need to continue to focus on students as individuals not as machines and surely not as machines who are broken like any "book."  Let's not shy away from being held accountable, but let's also stand-up tall and do and advocate for what we know is best for students...our students.