Are You Talking to ME?

          Trust. Relationships. Leadership. Values. Vision. 

I lost count as to how many times I heard these powerful words this past week. To be honest, it's all still a bit of a hazy blur, the result of long hours of learning and connecting with colleagues at the @bcpvpa "Short Course" at UBC. But despite the long hours, I left the beautiful new UBC Student Union Building on Friday afternoon feeling inspired and invigorated. And just a wee bit freaked out.

The short course is essentially structured around the BCPVPA Leadership Standards, which encompass Moral Stewardship, as well as Instructional, Relational and Organizational Leadership. Each day focussed on an aspect of these standards, ranging from discussions on educational innovation and leadership to the "nitty gritty" of the numerous, seemingly unending tasks associated with supporting a thriving school community. If I wasn't already overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of the responsibility of helping to shape the future of our youth, this past week most certainly helped to clarify that most rewarding, yet enormously demanding role. Thus the "freaked out" reference.

BCPVPA Leadership Standards

And I'm not alone. At several times throughout the course of the week, I would catch a colleagues' eye and I could see that they were thinking the exact same thing that I was:

"Are you talking to me?" 

At times, I wasn't so sure. Who was this "superhero" that BCPVPA president-elect Kevin Reimer was talking about? There were more than a few times where I was convinced that perhaps I was in the wrong room, that someone had made a terrible mistake. But as the week progressed, our facilitators and session leaders assured us that we did indeed have the necessary skills and abilities to take on the role of an Administrator. We don't have all of the answers, we don't even necessarily know the right questions to ask, but we have gotten to where we are today by relying on our greatest resources: our colleagues and our "kids".

So in the haze of reflection, I am left feeling somewhat overwhelmed, but also incredibly inspired, to continue on this journey. I will need your help along the way, because what I know in my heart more than ever is that I can't do this alone.

And yes, I'm talking to you. 

Lady Bugs are cool.

Defining Success

          By many people's definition, I was not a "successful" student. I struggled in elementary school with math and writing, and I was slow to begin reading. I have vivid memories of feeling enormous shame after getting back yet another math test that I had failed miserably. I can still see the vibrant red "F" at the top of the page. I was the kid with the multiplication table taped to the top corner of their desk. I also distinctly remember the stigma of being one of several students who were scooped out of class several times a week to be taken for "extra help". I say stigma, because again, I can remember the feeling of shame as I was led down the hallway by Mrs. MacMillian, the resource teacher, to a partitioned corner of the library which doubled as a "resource room". I can remember the colour of the carpet. I can remember the kindly face of my teacher. But mostly I can remember feeling embarrassed.

          In high school, my struggles continued. Although I was an avid reader by that time, often completing books in a single sitting, I still struggled in math and french. My years followed a predictable routine of failing a class or two, attending summer school, and once again failing those same classes the following year. By then, many of the feelings of shame had subsided. Despite my "failures", I was well liked by my teachers, generally considered a "good kid" and was finding some "success" in other classes. I excelled in English, loved to debate in law and won an award in band. However, I was a "good kid" making many "not so good" choices. In hindsight, my teachers must have known, but due to their considerable good will and understanding, my "extra-curricular" activities never landed me in the principal's office, nor did they prevent me from graduating. Barely. 

          In grade 12, having failed several courses over the years, I needed to pass all of my classes to receive enough credits to graduate. A challenging task for a student who was more likely to be found hanging out in the local coffee shop than attending classes. But somehow I made it through. And "back then" I even managed to get accepted into a local college. Much to my parents' enormous relief.

Grade 12 Garr. Don't judge- it was the 80s.

          In college, with the freedom to choose my courses, I was more engaged, enough to do fairly well in my classes. Well enough to transfer to University in my third year. But once again, as a result of a number of factors, I began to struggle in my classes. Another vivid memory- standing in my mother's kitchen trying to decipher the academic jargon in a letter that I had received from the University. I remember asking my mom in disbelief, "Does this mean they're kicking me out?" And indeed, that's exactly what it meant. 

          Perhaps a blessing in disguise. I began to work full time, and enrolled in a French class at the local college. I was encouraged by my professor to watch French soap operas and listen to CBC radio in French. I immersed myself in the language and the culture. And it worked. Once again I was back on track and re-admitted to University the following year to complete my Bachelor's degree. But even then, I wasn't one of those students who was particularly "passionate" about anything. I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do "when I grew up". I spent several years moving through various jobs before I decided to return to school to obtain my Bachelor's of Education. 

          Perhaps now, I might meet a more traditional definition of "success". I continued on with my schooling, completing a Masters degree, taught for 17 years in a vibrant and supportive school district, and have recently moved into a Vice Principal position. I have a rewarding job, a supportive family, a nice home... But I am eternally grateful that my teachers didn't apply that more traditional definition of success to the 15 year old me, the one who rarely attended, made poor choices, and failed classes. They clearly had a broader definition.

          I'm grateful for the bumpy road that brought me to where I am today. It provides me with invaluable insight into the lives of some of my students. It provides me with the understanding that behind each student, there is a context, a story. I've seen first hand the impact that a supportive adult can have in a student's life. And I've learned to look very hard for the "good kid" behind the "not so good" choices. 

THIS is a School.

           In her 2015 TED Talk, Philadelphia principal, Linda Cliatt-Wayman, shares the profoundly moving story of an impactful moment when Ashley, a student from a struggling inner city high school, boldly proclaimed at an assembly, "This is not a school."

          So what makes a school more than simply a bricks and mortar institution? What are the essential qualities that contribute to a vibrant, innovative and welcoming community of learners? The reality is, there's no magic formula, no quick and easy recipe to follow. And even if there was, many of the components or ingredients are difficult, if not impossible, to "measure". After 15 years as a member of a school community that has undergone significant challenges and transformation, I have more questions than answers. But with the help of my colleagues and my students, here's what I've discovered so far...

...THIS is a School.

• It is a place where teachers and administrators value connections and relationships over content and curriculum. 

Courtesy of Dean Shareski My Ongoing Struggle With Diffusing the Impact of Grades

Connections Over Content

• It is a place where students feel appreciated, heard and cared for. It is a place where they feel loved.

Courtesy of George Couros Innovation Does Not Happen in Schools If a Child Does Not Feel Loved

Courtesy of Kate Law

• It is a place where all members of the school community are encouraged to celebrate and share their successes and their challenges. 

#1000awesomethingsaboutsulli

• It is a place where learning doesn't just happen in the classroom. It is a place where teachers understand that the "extra" stuff is what makes a difference.

Courtesy of Alyssa Becker

• It is a place where students are empowered and equipped to design and share their own learning. 

 

#sullilearns30

• It is a place that supports teachers as they strive to integrate innovative teaching and assessment practices into their classrooms. It is a place where educators continuously challenge themselves to create learning experiences that are relevant and engaging for their students. 

Learning Partners

• It is a place where students feel like they belong. It is a place where they can be themselves, their best self.

It is a family.

"...We are a family." by Shanali

          With gratitude and appreciation, I'd like to thank my Sullivan Heights Secondary family for many years of laughter and learning. #alwaysastar And I look forward with great excitement to joining a new school community, a new family, at Steveston-London Secondary. #gosharks

A Rose By Any Other Name: Re-Naming Roles

         

Student. Teacher. Administrator. 

Student. Teacher. Administrator.
          To what extent are we defined by, and/or perhaps limited by, these "titles"? As I begin my transition from classroom teacher to Vice-Principal, it's a question that has taken on a new significance to me. As our education system continues to adapt and evolve to meet the changing needs of our students, our roles must also evolve to reflect a more collaborative approach to student learning. We all agree that this needs to be a team effort. And there's no debate that students, parents and individuals from our larger school community are integral members of this "team". And so with this shift towards a more collaborative and collective approach to education, how important is the language that we use to define our shifting and evolving "roles"?

          Anyone who has had to decipher a particularly challenging Shakespearean play, or an ambiguous text from a teenager is acutely aware that language is constantly evolving, and the language of education is no different. Among the numerous newly coined terms and titles (there are actually online dictionaries of educational jargon) we see a move towards "Lead Learners" instead of principals or superintendents and "Teacher Leaders" instead of department heads, to name but a few. In his recent blog post, "There Should Be More Than One 'Lead Learner'", George Couros shared his reluctance to use the term "Lead Learner" in reference to school and district leaders, suggesting that to acknowledge and value the shared expertise that exists in many school communities, "the term 'lead leader' could and should be applied to many". In the same way, I am somewhat wary of the term "teacher leader". If we label some teachers as "leaders" in a school, then what does that imply about the others? 

          So how important is this re-naming? Does it actually signify a significant shift in perceptions, roles and responsibilities, or it simply just assigning a new title to the same traditional roles and hierarchies that have always existed within school communities? Kristi Blakeway, principal of Harry Hooge Elementary, recently wrote a post entitled "I'm Not THAT Principal: Re-Imagine the Role", in which she addresses some of the stereotypes that exist about school principals. I appreciate her thinking behind "re-imagining" the principal persona, which even extends to the way that we organize and arrange our office spaces to be more inclusive and welcoming. 

          I'd like to think that when I assume my new "role" in administration I won't be that Vice-Principal. But how much will this desire to "re-imagine" my role will be constrained by the systems that are already in place? To some extent, my concerns were addressed when I had the opportunity to take on an Acting Vice-Principal role. It was reassuring to confirm that strong and trusting relationships are as integral in an administrative role as they are for the classroom teacher, and that a collaborative, inclusive approach that values student voice and input from families and community members is an essential component of establishing and effectively communicating a clear vision for a school. 

          So as we continue on this journey to re-define what our education system looks like for our students, how important is it that our language reflects this evolution? In homage to my English teacher roots, would a rose by any other name smell as sweet?

         

The Stigma of Sharing

No one would be interested. It's not good enough...  

As educators, one of our greatest challenges is establishing a safe and supportive classroom environment, one that provides our students with the skills and confidence that is necessary to take the "risk" of sharing their learning with their peers. In a previous post, I commented that we can't ask our students to do something that we aren't willing to do ourselves. We ask them to recite a poem, to solve a challenging math equation, to run an extra lap. And yet do teachers lack the confidence and support to do the same? And even more unsettling, do some face criticism from their peers when they do take the "leap" of sharing their ideas beyond the walls of their classroom?

As department leader of Learning Partners, I spent a good portion of my time encouraging and reassuring teachers that their ideas are indeed "good enough". With the support of our department team members and our Administration, it has been a gradual process of building a climate of trust and openness, where teachers feel valued and supported to take the risk of opening their classroom doors. At Sullivan Heights Secondary, teachers are able to share their lessons and activities via a "Collaboration Calendar". As well, we are now in our third year of "Teacher Drop In". As such, I've been fortunate to visit many of my colleagues' classrooms. As in all schools, there is amazing, imaginative, innovative teaching and learning happening. And yet quite often when I ask a teacher if they would be willing to contribute by adding their lesson to the shared calendar, they typically respond with, "Well, it's really not that interesting..." or "It's actually not very good."

Similarly, as I helped to coordinate the Ignite presentations for the Surrey School district's "Engaging the Digital Learner" series, one of the biggest challenges is finding teachers who are willing to share with their colleagues. Is this an admirable modesty, a lack of confidence, a fear of judgement by ones' peers, or a combination of all of these? And is this unique to the teaching profession? Why is it perceived by some as immodest, even inappropriate, when teachers share their ideas?

I would argue that in the same way that we support our students to take risks and to share their learning, we must be willing to support and encourage our colleagues do the same. We wouldn't dream of ridiculing a student who takes the step of standing up in front of their peers to sing a song at an assembly, or who posts a video that they have created. We encourage this. We recognize it as an important skill, a milestone, a celebration of learning.

Are teachers obligated to share their learning with colleagues? No. But should they be supported to do so? Absolutely.

       

A Parting Gift: An Outsider's Perspective

With special thanks and gratitude to Elisa Carlson, Director of Instruction for the Surrey School District, for allowing me this opportunity to share my perspective and insights on my learning journey as I move from #sd36learn to #sd38.

Innovative Learning Designs- A Parting Gift

The "Non-Tweetable" Moments

       

Non-Tweetable Moments

         


          I had never heard George Couros speak before... I'm pretty sure I just heard the collective gasp of a thousand educators. But somehow, by some cosmic fluke, I had missed out on numerous opportunities to attend sessions where George was the featured speaker. However, I'm happy to share that I have now joined the ranks of those who have laughed and learned alongside him. And I was able to share some of my learning as a participant in the "Edge Players" session organized by Elisa Carlson, Surrey School District's Director of Instruction, via the #sd36lead hashtag. In fact, many of the educators who attended yesterday's session shared their learning via Twitter. And there was a great deal to share. But some of my most profound and impactful moments can't be found by following a hashtag. These were the "non-tweetable" moments.
          You see, I've discovered George's secret weapon, his superpower. He shares. A lot. And when he shares, it makes others want to share as well. Without a doubt, much of what he shares in his sessions can be found online. He writes extensively on numerous, wide ranging and diverse topics. He is prolific on Twitter, connecting, sharing and engaging with his followers on a daily basis. But yesterday, in a room full of inspiring, creative, caring and innovative educators, I would argue that some of our most profound and impactful moments were in fact the "non-tweetable" moments, those moments when we had an opportunity to speak freely, to share our insecurities and fears, our challenges and concerns.

          You see, this kind of sharing requires a context, a shared experience, a common understanding. It requires an earned trust and a willingness to risk. And George's secret weapon is that he goes first. He began by establishing the parameters for the "non-tweetable" moments, and we followed his lead. And because of this, as much as I learned from George during the session, I don't think he will be at all offended for me to admit that I learned even more from my fellow #sd36learn educators.
          I am passionate about the power of Twitter as a platform for incredible professional learning and growth. It provides opportunities to connect and collaborate on a global scale. But at the same time, some of our most impactful learning comes from an opportunity to share and learn from those who are closest to us, the people in the room.