Acoustic Weekend

As I began my new position as principal of Rossville Middle/Senior High School, I made the conscious decision to be a “connected principal.”  Yes, in my past positions, I was able to keep up with email from a smart phone, send texts, and take phone calls.  I did not realize that being truly connected could be so much more rewarding.  This school year brought a big change to my career, as I had the opportunity to move back to Indiana, the state in which I began teaching.  With that, I wanted my new school to be the most visible, positive, and vibrant place anyone would want to send their children.  I made the choice to be connected.  I wanted the public to have a clear view of the fantastic events that happen every day—math lessons, welding demonstrations, lunch, drama, music, athletics, selfies, selfies, selfies, and selfies.  Yes, I consider myself to be a Twitter-holic.  It is rare that a school day goes by without tweeting a picture or some other school information.  I wanted our brick-and-mortar building to turn transparent.

While a connected principal can be a great asset to his students, parents, staff, and community, it also comes with a challenge to his personal life.  Believe it or not, educators have lives outside of school.  I can remember when I was in third grade (back in the stone ages), I saw my teacher in the grocery store.  It was as though her goddess-like status came crashing down around me.  Teachers are people, too.  Educators also have families—the loving group that supports you day in and day out, through great days and grim, understanding that education is more than an eight-to-five gig. 

I realized something over the past week.  I have been “plugged in” just a little too much lately.  Even when I am home with my family, even when my phone is “put away,” my mind is still vibrating with digital sparks.  I realized that I have been not paying attention to the people that mean the most in my life--my loving, supportive wife and my fantastic children.  This past weekend I made it a point that my phone stayed locked in my car, no computers were used, and no outside connections were made.  It felt good to just sit and talk, grab a Starbucks with my daughter, have a campfire with my son, and reconnect with my wife.  It is rare that I don’t think about school—that is just who I am.  This weekend I made it very quiet in that arena. 

I made the decision to put aside the electronic keyboards, drum machines, and microphones in my garage band life and have an acoustic weekend.  Going off the grid for a couple days may seem unbearable (just ask your teenager to give up their phone for a few hours).  Being disconnected for a weekend (or even a day) brings such clarity to your senses, allowing you to focus on what is most important to you.  Next weekend, take some time to strum a few chords on the old six-string and hum a few bars of your favorite tune (hopefully not your school fight song)—you will never imagine how loud the silence will be, and how much you will actually hear.  Just listen.

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