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.

source: freehighresolutionimages.org

1000 Words

They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  After scrolling through seemingly thousands of pictures tweeted and shared by school principals across America for #APrincipalsDay on January 7 (and beyond), a few came immediately to mind: happy, dedicated, energetic, immersed, student-oriented, fun.  I certainly did not see any frowny-faces (even those who were shoveling snow or fixing copy machines).  We principals truly love what we do. 

Early in my teaching career, administration was usually referred to as the “dark side.”  Teachers who made the jump to administration somehow donned the cloak of evil, forgot everything there was about being in the classroom, and made it their mission to create antagonism.  Even when I made the decision to step out of the classroom after 18 years and enter administration, some of my teacher colleagues used the same phrase for me (in jest).  No offense was taken; I even joked about it myself.  I remember early in my teaching career, I told one of my awesome principals that there would be no way that I would ever sit on the other side of that desk and do what he did--ever.  But, through the encouragement of a few more administrators AND my lovely wife, I took the leap.

You know what?  There really is not another side to the desk.  To be honest, I’m not at my desk long enough during the day to know which side is mine.  Most of us administrators are not the “old school” principals you may remember from ages past.  It really isn’t us vs. them.  We are all still teachers—all in this together (I feel a song coming on, but I will refrain).  We get to work with the most talented, caring, and empowering individuals known to mankind—teachers.  We also have the benefit of being able to influence our youth in a very positive way.  That is why we do what we do.  It is not to get out of teaching, but rather to come along side and support everything about education: tying shoes, reading a book, counting, cursive, long division, nutrition, debate, critical thinking, digital citizenship, technology infusion, state standards, and educator effectiveness.

Seeing those smiling principals, teachers, staff members, and students on the Twitter feed reaffirmed that this is the calling for me.  I do not have to go to work every day; I get to come to school.  Take time to smile every day, say cheese(head), and tweet a selfie.  A picture is worth a thousand words, or maybe just a few.

Stir-crazy

Today was the second consecutive day out of school for weather.  Yesterday was Winter Storm Gorgon that dumped six inches of fluffy snow on us, causing a bit of a conundrum for our county.  Today was the arctic blast that sent wind chills to the -20s.  While there is always something to do on my desk, I went a bit stir crazy today, so I decided to have a little fun in my empty school.  I truly miss all of the students and staff when they are not here.  Yes, I got plenty of paperwork done and emails answered, but that is not the same as working directly with our wonderful kids and awesome teachers.

Hope you enjoy my video....

http://youtu.be/_fOiD2bapo8

Addendum (1-9-2015)
Washington Post article:
http://goo.gl/eAZO7T

Snowed in (or not)

Winter Storm Gorgon is approaching, and I am anxiously awaiting for the predicted six inches of snow that will supposedly cripple central Indiana.  Back in the old country (Wisconsin), six inches of snow is merely an inconvenience--maybe a 2-hour delay if it occurred around 5 in the morning, but never a cancellation.  My wife's family is closely tied to another school district in central Indiana.  For the past 18 years I have made fun of them when their district cancels school for days on end for less than a foot of snow.

Perspective.  It is all a matter of perspective.

Doesn't that account for nearly everything when it comes to teaching and learning?  What seems completely obvious to one, may be utterly confusing to another.  Response to Intervention, academic standards, educator effectiveness, technology infusion, anti-bullying, and mod scheduling each bring different levels of comfort or stress to students, teachers, administrators, and parents.  The biggest obstacle to educational progress is the size of the snowdrifts of misunderstanding.  Maintaining communication among all stakeholders in the educational process is vital; teachers, parents, administration, and students may all have different and valid perspectives on current practices and future goals of a school district.  Successful schools allow for voices to be heard, perspectives to be understood, and the well-being of the students to be visible at all times.

It is my honor and privilege to be a part of the Rossville family.  As I continue my inaugural year as Principal of Rossville Middle-High School, I look forward to grow in the manner I serve the staff, students, and families of this awesome community.

Through the composition of this blog post, Gorgon continues to push her snake-haired head into the area, and I wonder if she will prevent us from holding classes in the morning.  If we do, great learning will continue within these walls.  If we do have a snow day, I will go sledding on the hill next to the playground and frolic on the soccer field.  I hope others will join me.  That is learning, too, donchaknow!

Perspective.  It is all a matter of perspective.

I brought my snow pants and boots from Wisconsin, and I am anxiously waiting to use them here in the Hoosier State.  Meet me at the sledding hill.