Christmas All Year Long?
Christmas came early to me this year.
A kindergarten student, whom I will call Billy (not his real name), came with his special education teacher to read a book to me. This, in fact, was the first book Billy had ever read by himself. It was a beginner book, but to be 100% clear..it was a book...a real book. As you can imagine, the look of joy and sense of accomplishment Billy shared on his face just lit-up my office like...a Christmas tree. Even more, I could tell his joy and excitment at being able to genuinely share with me was instriniscally motivating him to want to read more. That moment was the best gift ever...for both of us!
I'm fortunate. As a school principal I get to experience these "aha" moments all of the time. And trust me...they never get old.
Kids come to me to share their reading, writing or examples of outstanding work on a test. Our Specials teachers will highlight great musical performances or artwork. Our PE teacher and Media Specialist are quick to notice kids who have shown great improvement or extra effort. Even our noon aides and other ancillary staff share kids and kids' names who have demonstrated great work. One of the best perks of my job is to be in classrooms with students and teachers. Just this week, I observed classes learning about landforms, reading strategies, and symmetry, and every class showed progress. I'm grateful my staff includes me to help celebrate our students' accomplishments, and I'm hopeful these little celebrations with the principal help to instrinsically motivate our students to be successful.
Several years ago I was at home and getting the mail from our mailbox at the end of our driveway. I vividly remember turning towards the road and seeing a flash coming towards me on a bicycle. Behind the flash was our neighbor running after his 5 year old son who was riding his bicycle--no training wheels--for the first time--all by himself! The look on that little boy's face was a look of freedom, joy, confidence, and independence. It was the same look Billy had in my office.
What's ironic to me is while I remember holding my own daughters' bike seats and running with and behind them, I never got the opportunity to see that look on their faces. I was, after all, supporting and running after them. In reality and unfortunately, I'm not sure I ever took the opportunity to see that look on their face. I remember reading book after book with them. I even remember them reading to me, but I think I was always looking for something different. Was I looking towards the next challenge...the next hurdle...the next learning level? Was I ever satisfied with celebrating...even for just a moment...the current accomplishment and letting them be kids?
Our girls are happy and healthy middle school aged young women. We have a wonderful relationship, and I am proud of them. I love them more than they know--until they become parents and fully understand how parents love their children. I, of course, hope the best for our daughters. I want them to do well at school? I want them to have good friends. I want them to live their faith...our faith. I want them to live the Golden Rule. I want them to have a happy life.
Along the way, however, I want them to know that I am their greatest cheerleader, and I love them unconditionally. I will love them when they make mistakes. I will love them when they are not first in a race or the top of their class. I will love them when they fall down. I will love them when they get back up. To be clear, I'm not advocating we shouldn't challenge our kids, but if I'm always behind my daughters and pushing them towards the next level or the next challenge, what message am I sending to them? Maybe, just maybe, in my effort to push our daughters and not taking some time to cherish where they are rather than where I hope they will be, I am missing something pretty important? Maybe I'm missing Christmas...all year long?
A kindergarten student, whom I will call Billy (not his real name), came with his special education teacher to read a book to me. This, in fact, was the first book Billy had ever read by himself. It was a beginner book, but to be 100% clear..it was a book...a real book. As you can imagine, the look of joy and sense of accomplishment Billy shared on his face just lit-up my office like...a Christmas tree. Even more, I could tell his joy and excitment at being able to genuinely share with me was instriniscally motivating him to want to read more. That moment was the best gift ever...for both of us!
I'm fortunate. As a school principal I get to experience these "aha" moments all of the time. And trust me...they never get old.
Kids come to me to share their reading, writing or examples of outstanding work on a test. Our Specials teachers will highlight great musical performances or artwork. Our PE teacher and Media Specialist are quick to notice kids who have shown great improvement or extra effort. Even our noon aides and other ancillary staff share kids and kids' names who have demonstrated great work. One of the best perks of my job is to be in classrooms with students and teachers. Just this week, I observed classes learning about landforms, reading strategies, and symmetry, and every class showed progress. I'm grateful my staff includes me to help celebrate our students' accomplishments, and I'm hopeful these little celebrations with the principal help to instrinsically motivate our students to be successful.
Several years ago I was at home and getting the mail from our mailbox at the end of our driveway. I vividly remember turning towards the road and seeing a flash coming towards me on a bicycle. Behind the flash was our neighbor running after his 5 year old son who was riding his bicycle--no training wheels--for the first time--all by himself! The look on that little boy's face was a look of freedom, joy, confidence, and independence. It was the same look Billy had in my office.
What's ironic to me is while I remember holding my own daughters' bike seats and running with and behind them, I never got the opportunity to see that look on their faces. I was, after all, supporting and running after them. In reality and unfortunately, I'm not sure I ever took the opportunity to see that look on their face. I remember reading book after book with them. I even remember them reading to me, but I think I was always looking for something different. Was I looking towards the next challenge...the next hurdle...the next learning level? Was I ever satisfied with celebrating...even for just a moment...the current accomplishment and letting them be kids?
Our girls are happy and healthy middle school aged young women. We have a wonderful relationship, and I am proud of them. I love them more than they know--until they become parents and fully understand how parents love their children. I, of course, hope the best for our daughters. I want them to do well at school? I want them to have good friends. I want them to live their faith...our faith. I want them to live the Golden Rule. I want them to have a happy life.
Along the way, however, I want them to know that I am their greatest cheerleader, and I love them unconditionally. I will love them when they make mistakes. I will love them when they are not first in a race or the top of their class. I will love them when they fall down. I will love them when they get back up. To be clear, I'm not advocating we shouldn't challenge our kids, but if I'm always behind my daughters and pushing them towards the next level or the next challenge, what message am I sending to them? Maybe, just maybe, in my effort to push our daughters and not taking some time to cherish where they are rather than where I hope they will be, I am missing something pretty important? Maybe I'm missing Christmas...all year long?
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