A bigger truck...

A recent story made smile:  Two men decided it was time to make their fortune by setting up a roadside fruit stand.  They made their plan, and set it in motion by driving out into the field to pick their melons, pay the farmer who grew them a dollar per melon, and drive their truck to their stand where they would sell the melons for a dollar each.  After a few runs, one turned to the other and said, “we really aren’t making much money on this, are we?”  To which the other responded “Maybe we need to get a bigger truck…”

Sometimes we shake our head when others don’t get it…and at times one of those others is me.  What do I wish for when I don’t get it?  The opportunity to get it.  I think this requires two courageous actions.  First, it requires someone to do more than shake their head – the action must be accompanied by their voice.  One that expresses in a courteous yet passionate manner (a kind smack to the back of the head) “Hey…did you ever think about _______?”

The second action is the critical one, and falls solely upon me.  It is the courage to listen (and not be offended).  That’s much more than hearing what is being said.  It’s empathetic listening: listening to understand, and not listening to reply.

Although I’ve been and will continue to be a lifelong educator, the changing of my roles often concerns me.  I was in the classroom for six fantastic years.  Then I got a bigger truck, and served as a building principal for 11 years, and loved that role.  I’m now in a district truck role, entering my 4^th year.  With each passing year, I’m a little bit further away from those fantastic years having a direct impact on students.  With the changing positions, my day-to-day contact with students has lessened, and now my work focuses on building leaders who influence the adults that have the most direct impact on students.  Being further away from the students, I believe, increases my chances of not getting it.

A goal this year is to increase my capacity to listen, and by doing so, keeping the focus on the students and those that have the greatest impact upon them.  The good news is that listening does not require a bigger truck…

A Lesson from the "Red Schoolhouse"

I came across a short story from Mt. Kisco, New York, reported in theReader’s Digest that may provide some insightful guidance for today's "education reform."

“Once upon a time, there was a little red schoolhouse with one big room for 27 children. The teacher sat with an American flag on one side of her and a blackboard on the other. The children sat in rows facing her, the littlest ones in front. The youngest was seven, and she was very little. The biggest was 16, and he was six feet tall. The youngest was smart, and she could read with the other children. The biggest was dumb, but he was strong and could help the teacher carry in wood. In bad weather, he carried the littlest girl across the puddle in front of the schoolhouse. And sometimes she helped him with his reading.

“Then one day the state built a big highway, right past the schoolhouse door. And the State Education Department came by and said, ‘Great things are happening in education. There are special teachers for arithmetic, reading, art and music. If you combine with other schoolhouses, you could have a great big school where your children could have all the advantages. And big yellow buses could carry your children over the new highway right up to the school door.’ So the parents voted to consolidate, and the little red schoolhouse was abandoned.

“At first things went well in the big school. But after a while, the State Education Department said that it wasn’t providing the children with enough meaningful experiences. And some parents complained that the children were not learning to read and write and figure as well as they had in the little red schoolhouse. ‘We will try some new things,’ said the educators. So they tried the ungraded primer, where fast readers were not slowed down by slow readers, and where children who had trouble with numbers did not get moved on to the next grade before they could add 3 and 5. This helped, but not enough.

“‘We will try something more,’ the educators said. ‘We will tear down some walls at the new school, so the children will be working together in one big room. That way, there will be less peer-group competition.’

“Finally, an important educator came along, looked at the school and said, ‘This is good, but it is not good enough. It is too big, and the children are losing their identity. There are not enough interpersonal relationships in the infrastructure. What we really need is a one-room schoolhouse. And since red is a cheerful color, I think we ought to paint it red.’” (From Mt. Kisco, N.Y., Patent Trader, in Reader’s Digest, March 1973, p. 68.)

The educator in this story did not mean that the consolidated school, the grade-level teachers, or the updated curriculums were not advantages. Today we could add technology and a focus on professional development.  The point of the story is that along with the rigorous standards and inspiring innovation in education, the emphasis must still be placed upon needs and relationships, or in other words, making learning personal.  

A Listening Walk

Lately I’ve noticed my increasing loss of direction. I used to think I knew exactly what I wanted, and how it would happen.  Now, I doubt more.  Much more.   As I approach what may very well be the median of my life, this can be unsettling.  It may be from the many distractions due to the variety of roles, and my desire for each of those roles to be performed flawlessly, at least in the eyes of others.  But so many roles in a day…a spouse, a parent, an educator, a leader, a friend, a person…how can I reach my goal of becoming the servant leader I desire to be?

Removing myself from the many roles may be what is needed to remind myself of my true compass.  Not permanently, of course, but momentarily, if not for just minutes each day.  And during that brief moment of self-preservation, the best action I can take may be to assume the role of one that listens.  A recent quote I heard was “listen to understand; not to reply.” 

Sure, listening to others may be a part of that.  Empathetic listening, just for the sake of acknowledgment, does wonders to lift the soul of another.  But the listening I’m referring to is setting time apart to withdraw from the noisy, distracting world.  It requires the need to slow down, and in reverence of your simple being, listen less of what you say and more of what you hear.

Discerning an inner guide is not as difficult was we might believe.  And when we take such an opportunity, we become more aligned with our true compass.  The blurred lines become clear, the everyday challenges become opportunities, and our priorities become evidences of our purpose-driven existence.  The search for meaning and understanding turns our tacit beliefs to explicit behaviors.  With this comes a greater understanding of servant leadership.  To serve others and to lead others, we must also serve the need to connect and be lead by our inner voice, our leadership compass.

Deliberately Excellent

I’ve been reflecting on how schools make an incredible, yet often invisible, difference in each of our communities.  In our crazy world, differences between cultures, persuasions and beliefs seem to surface more quickly than they ought to.  The natural tendency becomes for much of society to make obscure and overlook the significant ways that we are alike, especially as adults "grow up" and move further away from the magic of school.


It is in our school years, especially elementary, where critical lessons of respect and civility are continued from the home, and in many cases, first taught. School lessons required us to learn to share, and to demonstrate courtesy in our relationships.  It is in our schools that teachers instill in our hearts a desire to empathize with those who are in trouble or in pain.  It is where we learn some painful lessons that there is nothing so unfair as equal treatment, and there is nothing fair about unequal treatment (it makes sense if you don’t think about it).

“Throughout the march of history, society has made progress when people have lived together in communities, with respect and concern for one another.  These virtues are the hallmark of civilization” (Hinckley, 2001).  I believe schools, as partners with parents/families, are the center of hallmark communities.  Many individuals, thought not enough, have learned to recognize that service within our communities is done by ordinary people who have learned to work in an extraordinary way. It is done by those who apply wisdom from lessons learned.  This gives hope to me, as brilliance is not required to make a difference in this world.  All that is required is a willingness to reach out, make a connection, serve and lead others where they may not have gone without your influence.

Education Leaders generally and humbly consider themselves ordinary people, but are indeed extraordinary as they understand that the learning process is endless. We read, observe, assimilate, and ponder that which we expose our mind to.  We encourage, promote, expect and even insist on the ideals that expectations coupled with success will improve the quality of life and growth mindset for child and adult learners around us.  We have experienced, first-hand, the invigoration that comes from having developed the capacity to evaluate then solve a problem, to wrestle with a seemingly unconquerable challenge and then find a solution (these are often called “Mondays”).

As education leaders and members within our neighborhoods, communities, districts and state, we all have a vision of what we are working toward.  Individually, many of us have personal creed that mirror our professional life.  A term that that I heard recently was "deliberate excellence."  Regardless, or maybe because of our many and varied roles, may we focus upon being deliberately excellent in being a learning leader.

Sculpting Iron

There was a very interesting short read in the Jan/Feb 2014 The Atlantic called An Iron Fish in Every Pot.  It shares the experience about Christopher Charles, a researcher living in Cambodia studying the mass impact of anemia, especially on Cambodia’s women and children.  Anemia has many side effects, including impaired growth and cognitive development in children, and increased risks of premature deliveries and newborn fatalities.

Charles knew that iron-rich foods and supplements were limited for most rural Cambodians.  Whilea few acquired the needed iron nutrients through cast-iron pots, those utensils were largely unavailable.  So Charles distributed small blocks of iron to communities, telling them to place the iron blocks in their pots for cooking and boiling water.  However, he quickly observed that they were being used as mere doorstops.

Believing that he still had a remedy, he learned from the village elders of a fish known as try kantrop, which was a common meal and considered good luck.  When he handed out the iron blocks again, this time as replicas of the popular fish, the women started cooking with them.  Within 12 months, anemia where the iron fish was distributed all but disappeared.

This story has many lessons. One takeaway for me is grasping something that we know is valuable and beneficial for those that we serve, and delivering it in a manner that is welcomed.   A natural reaction to almost anything that comes across as “here, take this…it’s good for you” is met by some level of resistance…the “good for you” opportunities are not always considered as such.  In our schools, the opportunities can come in many forms: quality programs, improved curriculum, & effective instruction. But if it is not conveyed in a manner that the learner recognizes as anything more than a doorstop, the likelihood of it being associated as advantageous will not happen.  Part of our creativity in leading may include sculpting and repackaging quality instruction and effective learning so that it is engaging and embraced as worthy.

A consequential question naturally follows...what educational block of iron needs to be sculpted?

The Power of Connections

I love stories.  I love the power of stories and the capacity they carry to teach lessons.  One that comes to mind concerning the school leaders is the story of William Dawes.  William Dawes was a peer of Paul Revere, and charged with the same task to ride out and send word of the British army’s arrival in the greater Lexington area.  While Paul took one route, William took another.  You are quite familiar with the Ride of Paul Revere, so why doesn’t the Dash of William Dawes make it into the history books?

In his book The Tipping Point, Malcolm Gladwell points out the message the two individuals was exactly the same: it was a critical message that would influence the length and outcome of the war.  The difference was not in the message that was being sent, but in the connection of the individuals to the greater community.  Revere was very well connected: He was a member of a number of civic organizations, active in the community, was well-versed in a variety of topics and could have a conversation with almost any person about anything (usually in a pub).  Dawes, on the other hand, was not connected to the community.  While he was a patriot and knowledgeable individual, he simply was an unknown and not connected to the greater community.  As a result, Dawes message was largely disregarded.

As education leaders, it is important that we are not only known to our immediate school community, but that we allow our influence to grow beyond within our district, into the state, and even nationally.  Today’s leaders are not only charged with taking care of their own backyard, but using their influence concerning the entire landscape of the education at the local level and beyond.  That is why being active learners ourselves is so important, and we do it best through connections, #edcamps, and learning networks. It is also why we should join professional associations.  I'm a proud member and past officer of the Missouri Association of Elementary School Principals (@MoAESP), and have been a proud member of National Association of Elementary School Principals (@NAESP) during the tenure of my school leadership.

Belonging to local, state & national organizations is a win-win, both for you as an individual and for the organizations.  It is a chance to collaborate with principals in your region and across the state.  It is a means to connect and communicate with a greater audience concerning the value and importance of supporting public education and the impact that leadership has upon learning and culture.  It is an opportunity to work alongside leaders from within and outside education organizations to critically think and work toward a greater common good and increasing the the quality of life by those we impact. And finally, active membership provides learning connections and opportunities from each other, which in turn prompts creative and innovative solutions in navigating our ever-changing landscape.

The education leader of today has a job description that makes them, in short, nothing less than a connected marvel who is everything to everybody.  It is a difficult task, but one that can be accomplished, especially with the support of others in the same cause.  So take a moment to reflect upon the lesson of William Dawes.  How can you increase your leverage and connection?  In what ways can you increase your capacity? How might you serve your community and tell your story?  For me, being a part of something bigger has connecting points for all areas.  Please join me in encouraging fellow leaders to join in our efforts as we connect people to purpose.

climate control?

 

Like businesses & companies, there are downward cycles of motivation and productivity in education. Encouraging autonomy and participation has been found to be the best counter. Consider the following story found in Bolman & Deal’s (2008) Reframing Organizations.

A group of manual workers painted dolls in a toy factory. In a reengineered process, the worker took a toy from a tray, painted it, and put it on a passing hook. They received an hourly rate, a group bonus, and a learning bonus. Although management expected little difficulty, production was disappointing & morale was worse. Workers complained that the room was too hot and hooks moved too fast.

Reluctantly, the foreman gathered feedback from the workers. After hearing the complaints, fans were brought in. Although no benefit was expected by the foreman, morale improved. Discussions continued, and the workers proposed a radical idea: let them control the belt’s speed. This was met by opposition as the speed had been calculated for optimal performance. However, it was agreed to give it a try. The workers developed a complicated production schedule: start slow at the beginning of the day, increase speed once they warmed up, slow down before lunch, and so on.

Results were stunning: Morale skyrocketed; production increased far beyond the most optimistic calculations. Bonuses escalated to the point that the manual workers were earning more than skilled/experienced workers. And for that reason, it ended. The manual worker’s production and high pay became a problem as other higher-skilled workers protested. To restore harmony, management reverted to earlier practice: a fixed speed for the belt. Production plunged, morale plummeted, and most of the manual workers quit.

There are many things that can be taken from this story. Here are some of my take-aways: (I’d love to hear your take-aways).
 

*I’m wondering how we really do with asking staff about their ideas.  They are closest to what works and what doesn't, and probably have a great many ideas that would work.  Consider this example - McDonald’s best known combination is the Happy Meal. The Happy Meal was actually an idea from an front-line worker, not a manager/leader.  I believe most of any organizations' great ideas potentially go untapped, because the frontline workers aren't in a position or welcomed to share their innovative thoughts.  Do we open up our staff, team & grade level meetings to innovation and creativity? This would not only make teaching & learning more effective, but fun, engaging and participation-focused.

 

 

**We have a curriculum scope & sequence for content & standards, but the timing, intensity & delivery is part of the artisty of teaching.  The master teacher uses effective feedback from the students, formal and informal, as evidences that learning has taken place.

 

***Our schools are certainly not production lines. Let’s be cautious in producing packaged learners that don't have opportunities themselves to be active paricipants in their own learning.  These opportunities include developing the capabilities of Communication, Collaboration, and Critical Thinking.  For more, consider Sir Ken Robinson's Changing Education Paradigms

****Finally, why do we feel vulnerable when others do well and surpass us in performance?  While healthy competition should be encouraged and welcomed, it shouldn't be used as a measure to maintain the status-quo.  Think of the implications for our under-resourced learners.  Placing superficial standards of allowing them to learn up to a point where they only match learners at the higher-end of the performance spectrum certainly limits them.  Why clip their wings? What if, in the right system, they could move beyond that?  What if we all worked collaboratively to move beyond any reeenginered & predetermined benchmarks of success?
 
Studies lend themselves to show participation is a powerful tool, both to increase morale and productivity. Even with just a few weeks left in this school year, increased contribution by students and staff alike could impact the learning climate. Give it a try; we may be surprised by end product.