Tag Archives: Education

Building Bridges Instead of Burning Them–EdTechRI

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Shawn and HeatherI was teaching a unit that was boring. But it’s in the curriculum so I had no choice. I tried to chug it down and get on to something better. I gave the test. They bombed.  I don’t even like tests–In a few years, I bet we won’t even need tests–they’ll wear a Yankee Hat that will suck out their collective knowledge and send me a report.  I won’t even have to teach them because there will be an app for that too. Oh, how much money the tax payer will save!

All these apps are very cool–it’s what I’m trying to do–get these things into the classroom.  But sometimes looking around at the old and the new in classrooms makes me wonder if I’ll ever get to the Yankee Hat stage.

Yesterday, all that faded into the background. I was in the middle of an event designed to change the world. An event filled with rock stars, creating rock star vision. It was the EdTechRI Shark Tank Smackdown. Actually, I think there was a better name than that, but it was really the culmination of a year or so of work where we sat down and got key players together at the table to discuss the issues faced by educators and entrepreneurs system-wide. The bottom line, educators and entrepreneurs need a constant dialogue. By opening the lines of communication, we solve problems and get those solutions where they need to be most–to the teachers and the students who need them.

Last night’s event was beautiful. It was sponsored by the Highlander Institute, which brings blended learning (teachers using tech and traditional methods) and EdTech accelerator Socratic Labs, (they help ed tech startups develop so they can be successful) and housed at the very classy Rhode Island Foundation, which supports pretty much every good mission in the state.

photoThis event was special for me. When I started my tech journey approximately one year ago, simply by making a few Learnist boards and beginning to use them in my classroom, I never imagined it would end in my involvement with Learnist, EdTechRI, and the EdUnderground–in getting to work with some of the world’s best and brightest in the field of teaching and educational technology–in seeing both sides come together.

It seemed there was a disconnect–education on one side, and entrepreneurs on the other. School systems didn’t always get the best technology, and entrepreneurs certainly wanted to build it, but they sometimes lacked access to the feedback they needed from the classroom end. Teachers would say, “Oh, you’re a vendor.” Vendors sell stuff. Entrepreneurs and visionaries create stuff. Totally different. We don’t have vendors. We have visionaries creating critical solutions with cutting-edge technology.

In getting the sides together, Rhode Island is solving problems in education.  Some of the best platforms in the world need one or two simple tweaks to rock the education world. Teachers give that feedback. I’ve seen this first hand. It’s magic.  By getting the educators and the entrepreneurs together, we eliminate about seven layers of bureaucracy. We have the tough conversations we need to have about our commitment to engaging students and making education real–and better. By involving visionaries, creating bridges and partnerships with the best and brightest the teaching and technology worlds have to offer, everyone wins.

I looked around the room, and saw the picture.  My friend Heather Gilchrist, who mentors startups and has personally yanked me off a cliff on my own entrepreneurial journey. Shawn Rubin, who, though he doesn’t know it yet, is pretty much the face of EdTech in Rhode Island and will be on the forefront of this momentum nationally. My EdUnderground friends and antagonists. A room full of startups and entrepreneurs in various stages of development pitching their creations to smiling teachers and educational leaders, all  tweeting feedback on the board. A food spread that reminded me of classy seminars when I was in Corporate America. People laughing and having a good time. Business cards exchanging, entrepreneurs and teachers lighting up when they found the right match to discuss needs and solutions, and in general magic in the air.

And I got to come along for the ride.

To be continued…

 

Learning the Vowels

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I was doing hallway duty. That’s where I stand at the top of the stairs and greet everyone as they come in–ask them about their weekend, compliment the new hair-do. Really, I’m supervising, but I don’t like to feel like bad cop when kids clearly haven’t finished their energy drink and I’m only into my third cup of coffee, which is getting cold in the front office.

There are a bunch of rules I have to attend to–taking off of headphones unless you are a member of the CIA, removing hats as one enters the building–the roof leak has been fixed and we have no  outdoor classrooms, and please pull up your pants–the full moon is next week, and “say no to crack” covers sagging.

Today, I heard the “Ohhhhhh!” chorus. That’s when one person says “Ohhhhh,” and everyone follows suit because they have nothing better to do. Usually this is just teen behavior, but at times it precipitates a larger event, so I attend to this religiously.

I walk over. I give “the eye.”  I don’t have “the eye.” They said I’d get it as a teacher, but I don’t. I just can’t pull off mean. I was listening to peer this weekend at the Ed Camp Boston session on “How to be a Badass Teacher.” More on that in another post. But suffice to say, he couldn’t pull off being mean either, “Mr.” his students said, “You just don’t look right when you’re mean.” Neither do I.

But I can pull off annoying. Screen Shot 2013-05-06 at 8.02.43 AMI go to the circle of “Ohhhhhhh!”s and I stand. I invade the space. Now no one can secretly check a message or put on a hat. They can’t say the “f” word or be rude. And the “Ohhhhhh”s stop.

“What’s going on here?” I inquire. “I’m reasonably sure this isn’t Vinnie Barbarino training school.”

Blank stares. No one knows who Vinnie Barbarino is. I am old.

“So?”

More blank stares.

Then, the perfect answer.

“Miss. We’re practicing our vowels. Reading skills.” Suddenly the chorus re-erupts. This time, it’s a little different.

“Aaaaaaaaa, eeeeeee, iiiiiiiiii, oooooooo uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!” I stare. I turn. I leave. I am clearly defeated. Game, point, match, circle of Ohhhhh-shouting guys. Time to go.

But not before someone adds in, “AND SOMETIMES YYYYYYYYYY!”

Literacy Common Core achieved.

The bell rings.

I am saved.

Heroes

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The boy slept on the desk. I woke him again. I wasn’t that boring. Maybe I was–am I qualified to make that determination? That was a minute of his life he would never get back. I asked him after class.

“Was I that boring?”

“No, Miss, I had to work.” He worked in his family business–a restaurant–until one or two o’clock in the morning most nights outside of soccer season.  We agreed that he would do his classwork on weekends.

Another girl was failing. She was absent all the time. She never came after school to make up her work. “Redo that test with me,” I said.

“I can’t stay after school. I’m not allowed.” She had to babysit. Her mom worked multiple shifts. Food and rent were important. We got up early and met in the mornings. Some days she stayed home. She emailed me. I sent her work.

Another boy disappeared for months at time. His family moved for work–migrants. I gave him an assignment to be done on the road, not really sure if he’d return.

Still another paid the rent for his whole family–as a sophomore. The parents couldn’t. He was told, “You can’t work that much. It’s now allowed.” Sometimes life doesn’t give us nice  choices. I bet he learned more about life than if he learned my questions one through three.

I have had emancipated students, young parents, students shouldering the family finances, students who were undocumented and hiding. One student couldn’t go back to see his mom before she died of cancer in their country–months before graduation. Another was the caretaker for her terminally ill mother. She put off college for her family. One year, I gave my September Survey, “What do you do for fun?” A freshman girl answered, “Not much–I play with my son.”

It’s easy to be judgmental–to look at the problems students face as they strive to make it through high school and into the world. Honestly, we all have problems, kid. Someday your boss will fire you if you don’t get the work done. But I’m here to help. Not to cram my material down your throat, because truth is–standards be damned–that might not be the biggest mountain you climb today. Just getting to the sunset might be the goal.

What’s the right approach? How can I serve you?

How can I make sure that even though you have nearly insurmountable issues,  you understand you can control the outcome? We all face mountains in our own way. You determine what you need to be successful and you make it happen with your grit and tenacity. You use these insurmountable issues to make yourself a better person; a better adult. Sometimes they become a blessing, a benefit to you in the future rather than something that kept you down. Realize that you have the skills, the dedication, and the desire to succeed. How can I give you that guarantee?

Judgmentalism. “She can’t stay home to translate.” “It’s illegal for him work that late.” “Going to your country for vacation for three weeks at Christmas is not an excused absence.” “How can they have kids so young?”

Families often fight to survive. Somewhere in between, that kid tries to do your math, my critical questions, and read a text that doesn’t seem to apply to his crisis. Sometimes they do it just because they like me. Then it’s up to me to provide the justification. The value.  In the midst of all this chaos–where each day crumbles into a survival mechanism in the outside world…I teach that education is the only lifelong friend–that no matter where you are,  education makes you better, equalizes the playing field. Education is not just the stuff in the books. The desire to learn more and the curiosity to refuse to let the flame extinguish is the single factor that gets you ahead.

Education must be flexible, personalized, and human–I say this even as I watch class plan after class plan be filled with standardized tests, post tests, high-stakes tests and entire credit classes that prepare students for tests.

Each student who comes through my door again and again is a hero. Especially the ones facing challenges so big they’d cripple adults. Yet they come, and they bring it every day, and they smile.  Someday soon, they will be great–no, they already are. Someday soon, they will be monumental. The biggest success. More successful than me.

That…is why…I teach.

 

Old People Alert: Words You Can’t Say

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Vocab testI’m giving a vocabulary test. I don’t like vocabulary tests. I’m tired of them. Even though I don’t love tests, vocabulary is important. Not just for students, but for me.  I’m getting old. Words change their meaning. Not being up on vocab is a dangerous thing.

I used to be at the epicenter of student pop culture, even though growing up I was a walking anachronism. You’d think technology would enhance this, but in fact, it’s done the opposite. It’s let me “turn on, tune in, and drop out.” Streaming music online has let me drift off into indie-music obscurity, getting pleasantly out of touch.

In the process, I miss the shifting tide of vocabulary. Using old words has dated me.

Awesome is an 80′s word. So not “awesome,” to say. You can’t say “dude.” A “ratchet” is no longer a tool. It should never be said in public. Neither is “ho.” Used outside of December, it’s not nice. I tried to explain garden “hoe” to a student. She couldn’t make the connection–even with a picture.

VW MicrobusVocabulary is important. So is context. Kids think I’m a hippie because I grow vegetables and my vocab’s stuck in the 90′s, which reminds them of the 60′s if you just flip the first number. I tell them I’m not old enough to be a hippie.

Recently, I was discussing basketball, informing a student I’d defeat him on the court. I stopped just short of saying “yo mama.”  It is also a dated expression. I admitted I couldn’t shoot well but I “could play some Big D.” That, in my day, meant “defense.” Coach would yell up and down the court, “Give me some big D.” We’d win the game. I was the good at defense.

Defense is important. Stopping the other guy from scoring a basket means they didn’t get two points. This is the same as if I was able to score a basket, though with none of the glory and recognition. I learned to hang in there and never give up. It’s not a bad lesson for life.

Vocabulary alert:

Big D doesn’t mean “defense” anymore. It refers to the male fifth appendage. Never, ever, ever say that in the presence of teens. Even when discussing a sporting challenge. The class stopped. Something was desperately wrong. Even the good kids were drowning in their own laughter.

Someone finally filled me in. Time for me to study vocab again. Maybe even take a test.

I remember being overseas. I was teaching English, using a book from the 50′s.

“The cock crows at…”

“Mary is gay.”

“John went to fetch some water.”

Not cool (“cool” being another dated word). I took out my pen and began crossing off words. “You can’t say this.”

I have stepped over the generational divide. My vocabulary’s old and I even try to pick up the check at restaurants rather than ducking into the bathroom dividing the bill to the last cent. That’s how you know you’re really old. I’m stuck in my music instead of theirs. And I watch the Discovery Channel instead of MTV.

“Miss, did they have TV when you were in school?” I look at the student in front of me. She’s serious. I must respond politely.

Antique Apple“Yes, I was born in ’71. Computers weren’t invented. There was no Internet. You had to pick up the phone. Which was wired to the wall. To text, we wrote it all down, put it in an envelope, and put a stamp on it. I had a cast-iron Royal typewriter in high school and an electric typewriter in college, but by then they had a computer lab, but you had to fight the nerds to use them.”

“Wow.” She soaks this in. The phone buzzes in her back pocket. She goes to look, but remembering she’s in school glances at me and walks away. thinking.

“Thank God I didn’t have to live back then,” she thinks. But there are no words, because the vocabulary has changed. So she takes her leave, incredulous, in silence.

[images: thisisgrame.wordpress.com and http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/retro%20cars%5D

A Good Lesson…A Bad Poem

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I am in the middle of class.

A good class. They listen.

A hand goes up.

I say, “Yes.”

I am waiting for the genius, the home run, the reply–the question of the year.

“I have to go to the lav.”

Deflated.

I try again. The class smiles.

I reengage.

The class leans forward.

Attention is in the air. The discussion gains momentum.

A hand is raised.

I say, “Yes.”

I am waiting for the genius, the home run, the reply. The question of the year.

“I have to sharpen my pencil.”

I start again.

I recover.

I finish the tale, give a preview of tomorrow. Someone stands. Raises out of his seat at the pinnacle of the lesson.

I say, “Yes!”

This is the genius, the home run, the reply. The question of the year!

“Just getting a tissue.”

Bell rings. Everyone leaves.

Sigh.

Maybe tomorrow.

Don’t Piss Off The Voices in Your Head

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Moses heard The Voice, too.

Moses heard The Voice, too.

My students often ask me why I left a corporate job with a decent salary and the potential for more–things like bonuses, promotions–for teaching. I tell them, “It was The Voice.”

No one ever believes me, but this is a true story–I was sitting in my cube. A ray of light came through the window and hit my desk. Next, I heard a voice–an audible voice, a deep male voice saying, “You have to quit and teach.” I turned, looked for the source , a little taken off guard, as most people who hear The Voice tend to be. I simply said, “Oh.”

I wondered if Moses felt the same way talking to a flaming bush. In either case, he obeyed. So did I.

The next day, I applied to graduate school.

This was not my only encounter with The Voice.  I was driving the highway in Connecticut. I had transferred to an office down to the area where I was originally born. I kept meaning to spend more time with my aunts and uncles. I looked over to a billboard about diamonds–I don’t even own diamonds. The Voice spoke, “You should visit your family more. You haven’t used your time down here wisely.” The next day, I was in the process of being transferred across the state.

I often felt I should get the opinion of a well-trained professional on the issue of hearing voices that remind me of God in Monty Python. I’ve tried a hundred times to explain it away, but someone else told me a similar story once, “I was a Broadway actor. I became a doctor because I heard The Voice.” I felt a little less insane after that.

I’m sure there are some cognitive science people lurking in the background who can give  better insights behind this. The ray of sun that hit my window–that was because I was sitting by a window. It was sunny. Any moron can explain this. But “The Voice,” and the message–they’re too specific for me to explain away without a smart friend or a good priest/mystic. I’ve learned to just listen. It could be God. Maybe it’s my subconscious. Or perhaps I am, indeed, certifiable.

I think it’s common to fight with the messages that the subconscious gives. It’s an interesting phenomena. If I’m talking with a trusted friend, I almost always listen.  Yet I fail to obey the logic and reason of my own mind. It takes The Voice to snap me out and force me to tune in again. When it gets to that level of subconscious, I’ve ignored myself for far too long.

Listening is the biggest part of leadership, relationship building, teaching, policy…people charged with doing are the ones who must listen most. It’s one of the harder skills to learn, certainly for me. Sometimes, being aware can be the difference between making a critical decision correctly or missing the flags. It can also make the key difference in the lives of other people. I notice this in my relationships with my students. Sometimes, they’ll only be ready to tell me something important once. And if I’m not listening correctly, or if I miss the cues, the opportunity to make a big difference is gone.

So, I listen to The Voice, which is audible and clear. But more important, I listen to the whisper, which is often hard to hear.

 

[image: bible.phillipmartin.info]

Don’t Ban Dodgeball–Ban Life: Why Banning Everything Is Just Plain Silly

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Screen Shot 2013-03-28 at 5.53.52 PM“Quick, come here,” my husband said. I thought there was an emergency.

“They’re banning dodgeball.”

“That’s not new,” I replied. “A school in Massachusetts did it last year or the year before. ‘Hurts self-esteem.’”

“No, they say it’s because of bullying,” he said.  I am struggling with this. I’m struggling with the resurgence of the attacks on dodgeball under the guise of bullying. We are going too far.

I struggle with banning dodgeball because I, myself, was bullied playing basketball. There were a couple of girls in particular who were very mean–always told me to get the water, advised me that I’d never get off the bench, and never ceased to find an opportunity to make me look bad in front of the team. No one has ever banned basketball. My self-esteem was deeply wounded, but I plugged on, learning valuable skills like dedication, team building, strategy, and empathy. My skills in coaching–and even teaching, I suspect–trace back to these episodes. I learned to keep moving forward in spite of obstacles, and I learned that it wasn’t the talent or the prodigy I wanted on my team or in my classroom–it was the plugger. The one who would do anything to succeed.

Maybe that approach was wrong. In retrospect, I should have started a campaign to ban basketball–being picked last, having to endure bullies, and having to get the water–all hurtful. And yet I played.

Better than banning basketball and dodgeball, I’m wondering if it might be more feasible to ban all situations where bullies lurk.

First off, I’d like to ban work. I’ve worked in several jobs in three careers and only one where there was no bully. In fact, adults in the world of work are some of the most vicious bullies around. The world of education is not excluded.

After we ban work, let’s ban all competitions where someone has the potential to be picked last or lose. The nerd always gets picked last, and that’s psychological bullying. Losing repetitively at athletics–that’s no good either. I’m not going to watch the beginning of The Bad News Bears anymore. All high school and college sports with cuts will be on my list have banned…anyone who has ever been cut from a team has felt the deep pain of cuts. Sometimes, they never recover.

If if the issue isn’t bullying but “unsafe sports” or “sports with human targets” we should eliminate baseball, most definitely. I’m trying to mentally count the number of balls and bats with which I’ve been hit as a batter and a catcher. If we ban sports where there is risk of injury, lets add on all martial arts, football, basketball, and soccer, too.. If we ban games that aren’t politically correct or hurt self-esteem, add chess to that list–how can we allow people to lose constantly while they are having their men killed? We have a zero-tolerance for violence–heck, my friend’s son got the Army men confiscated from his birthday cupcakes at school just the other day.

While we’re on the subject, I think dating should go–every second someone cooler than you is getting the girl or guy, and getting dumped hurts. It really affects self-esteem.

The bottom line?

Why this singling out of dodgeball under parameters that would ban most life activities were they applied equitably across the board?

I never stand for bullying, but if we ban every location and situation where we might be bullied the nation would shut down. If we really think this through, we’ll find that it’s our views on education, creating a positive climate, and encouraging a healthy competitive environment that must evolve. Banning things never teaches the true lessons that need to be taught. It’s the easy way out.

Let’s rethink–not only dodgeball–but how we approach creating a positive climate for ourselves, our students, and our communities. Let’s stop indicting our schools, because schools are not where the majority of bullies lie. They lie in life. If we ban everything, the bullies win. Let’s start with our own inner circles–work, families, communities, churches, and get rid of the word “bullying,” replacing it with “creating a positive climate.” If we do, I’ll bet we won’t need to ban dodgeball, basketball, chess, work, or any activity. We will be too focused on making the world a better place.

[image: fecrecpark.com]

Getting an Early Start on Common Cores Using The Economist

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I am reading my son’s school newsletter. It does an excellent job discussing the Common Cores. I know this because I use Common Cores all day myself. The school is calling for a 50/50 balance of literary and informational text. I support this because I am a serious professional nerd.  Literacy’s important.  I’m tired of people who can’t read a basic newspaper–which the American press has kindly reduced to a fifth grade level. I hear soon they’ll only be featuring world leaders with two-syllable last names that at least 75% of the American public can pronounce. Netanyahu, Fernandez de Kirchner and Berdimuhamedow will be banned from print media. Unless we act now. To paraphrase my beloved Tolstoy, who never did write much informational text and is therefore O-U-T–out in favor of better things, “How much Seuss does a man need?”

Banned Books

Banned Books

In honor of the transition to informational text, we read Shel Silverstein for the last time last night. That’s about 25% too much poetry. We’re way off our targets here, which can only hurt down the road. I’m packing up that nonsense to unpack the Common Cores. We’ll use my Economist, Foreign Policy, and Mother Earth News.

When Declan was born, I used to read op eds from The Wall Street Journal and articles from Sports Illustrated. Babies love this as long as you read with the right enthusiasm. Stories like “doping,” “scandal,” “end of the economic world as we know it,” have far better hooks than Yurtle the Turtle. The life-long skills they produce are invaluable.

He can now read stock reports even if they go into negative numbers–he’s not just accessing the literacy Common Cores, we’re reinforcing numeracy as well. That’s important. High school kids have lost the skills of memorizing basic math facts, and many stare mystified at an analog clock like it came straight out of science fiction. Numeracy is critical as well. Unless you’re The Boss.

I tell my students that they’re right, math isn’t important if they want to work in my business, because if they can’t calculate their paycheck, I get to pay them whatever I want. Heck, I might even pay them in gum.

“How many sticks of gum do I get this week, boss?”

“Well, if your wage is five sticks an hour and you worked fifteen hours…how many sticks should you get?” I say chomping on a wad and blowing a bubble, having underpaid Math Deprived Employee by two sticks. AND slammed him with a word problem just to illustrate my superiority in the Common Cores.

Common Core approved informational texts

Common Core approved informational texts

All this gets back to why it’s never too early to start promoting high-level informational text literacy. My son won’t learn how to rhyme, but he’ll build a darned good chicken coop. The article has pictures, so he will have art appreciation, too.

You can never read too much instructional material on permaculture and composting. I’ve made plenty of Learnist boards on informational subjects–I’m going to make him read those and answer a set of Socratic style questions, which I’ll provide for his whole kindergarten class in a lecture on career development.

I’ve sold the Seuss, hidden the Harry Potter, and sent out the Silverstein. Go Dog Go is gone, dawg, gone. Today, we’re going to analyze The Economist’s “Rough Guide to Hell.” (pictured above). Then, I’ll plug Hell into my GPS for a geography lesson sneaking 21st century skills tech skills in, too. You guessed it, more Common Cores.

We’re keeping the Dino encyclopedia, even though dinos are dead. Dead doesn’t send a good message, “Work hard and you can be extinct.” “No matter what you do, a giant meteor may wipe you out.” But it’s instructional, he likes it. It sends a grave warning about global warming (Science Common Cores) in addition to having very big words (instructional text literacy), so it can stay.

It’s 5AM. Declan just waltzed into the living room, “Mommy, I can’t sleep.” I said, “Come on, let’s get started tackling these Common Cores.” He took Fluffy the Sheep and ran back to bed. Which is probably just as well. I want him well rested for when the learning begins.

 

 

Think Ahead or Die: Chess Education in Grade K (Chess: Part 1)

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Author Peter Smalley's son levies a crushing defeat on the family cat.

Author Peter Smalley’s son levies a crushing defeat against the family cat.

Chess Story One:  Playing Chess with the Boy

We are playing chess. Declan and I. I started playing at about five. Never mastered it, because I don’t think several moves head. I’m too social. I’d rather talk. In chess, you must think several moves ahead–devise a plan in response to every counter-initiative long before your opponent hatches his evil scheme.

I never have a plan. I just move the pieces around until someone better than me wipes me out.  But I can’t lose to a five-year old. That’s the line in the sand. There’s pride involved. I wipe him out mercilessly every time.  He tries hard. He asks all the right questions.

“Why does the knight move like an ‘L?’ Why not ‘A’ or ‘S’ or ‘C’?” I must confess I do not know.

“Why can the queen do anything she wants?” Because that’s the role of the woman in the universe.

“Why don’t you let me win?” Because I’d bring shame upon myself that would last all of eternity.

So, I said this, “Life doesn’t ‘let you win,’ kid. Do you want to grow up with a false sense of self-esteem? Do you want to lose the ability to feel like a winner when you win for real? Or do you want the system to artificially create conditions so that no child gets left behind and you have a false sense of self-worth that will be stripped away the minute your first boss kicks you in the teeth with the reality of your very existence?”

He paused to consider this. “Mommy, if he kicks me, I will defeat him with my karate–like this!” That is the upside to owning a martial arts establishment.

“You don’t really want me to let you win at the cost of your self-respect, do you?” I inquired.

“Yup. Let me win.” Another generation down the toilet.

Occasionally, he’ll try the “I’m going to put it here, but don’t take it, Mommy” defense. As if that negotiation will let him get away with the flagrant dangling of an unprotected queen. I immediately take it. He’ll yell, “I TOLD YOU NOT TO TAKE IT!”

So I reply, “Listen, we already discussed this…if I don’t take it, you’ll get a false sense of self-esteem. It’s like inflating test scores. It just reduces the national IQ in the end.” And he grumbles. I follow up with some sage advice from the heart. “In life, you have to protect your assets.”

“Don’t say ‘assets’ Mommy! It’s a bad word.”

“No, ‘assets’ is okay. Liabilities are bad.”  He’s already moved on to the next piece. Planning ahead.

The game continues. I win.  Again.  Maybe some day, he will take in some of these lessons and improve. I really don’t want that to happen, though, because then I’ll have to start planning ahead and improving. And when it comes right down to brass tacks, I don’t want to put in all that hard work. I just want to win–the easy way.

Tomorrow:  Part two of my chess series. Hardly call it a “series,” and I’m really bad at chess. Chess and Improv–Why Making 2 or 3 Plans Makes You Less Likely to Get Squashed.

[Photo credit: Peter Smalley, author, biochemist, and father of this budding chess champion. I wish to set him up with Declan if the cat ever goes on vacation]

All Toilet Paper Is Created Equal–Why I Avoid the Faculty Bathroom

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Screen Shot 2013-02-19 at 11.27.08 PMI don’t like the faculty bathroom.

 It may be a strange topic, but when I have to go to the bathroom, I use the regular student bathroom at the end of the hall.

I have a key to the faculty bathroom–it’s a prized possession in my school–my colleague still doesn’t have one and is forced to borrow mine. I only lend it to her even though I never use it–it’s like a rank on my epaulet I want to keep–it says “You are someone. You have a key to the faculty bathroom.” I’d make her one for her birthday, but I fear it might be illegal, because it says “DO NOT COPY.” You don’t want just anyone, mind you, using the bathroom. One-ply’s not cheap. It has to be regulated in these tough economic times.

Screen Shot 2013-02-19 at 11.22.22 PMThe real reason I don’t use the faculty bathroom is the same reason I don’t cut in line on those rare occasions I buy lunch. I wait behind the students who got there first. We’re all the same. I don’t need to cut the line. I don’t need a special bathroom, either. Even if it’s clean and good-smelling with a bathroom attendant and two-ply paper. I’m just like anyone else.

I must confess, some of my best interactions with students have been while we were in those cafeteria lines, hallways, and bathrooms. While I was being a person like just everyone else, not using my teacher-authority. Connecting with students as people builds the basis of relationships that allow me to teach and them to learn. One thing we sometimes forget in this field is that, without exception, students are our customers. They are the ones who matter. We market to them, sell to them, and serve them. We give them our best, but if they don’t buy our product, no learning takes place.

In much the same way, policy exists to serve them, too. When it does not, it must be changed. Even at the expense of testing, evaluations, funding, and agenda. Sometimes the system gets too top down. It makes it harder to listen to the guy at the bottom. Which, unfortunately, is the student we need to teach, who educational leaders must lead, and policy must serve.

Screen Shot 2013-02-19 at 11.19.46 PMTeaching is the smallest part of all of this. Teaching isn’t really teaching at all–it’s sales, marketing, counseling, and life coaching. We fit in the learning  to cement those bricks and build a house no wolf can blow down. There are a lot of wolves in the world.

Some people really like the faculty bathroom, even if it’s pretty far away and they have to earn the key. Maybe they feel special. Maybe they just want a moment to hide away from the chaos where no one can chase them down. Not me. I’ll be like everyone else, because the truth is we all teach each other, so I’ll count myself in with the ranks of students–I learn every day. I’m just the one who get stuck putting the grades in the book.

[images: Stockazoo.com, singing pigs.wordpress.com, http://blog.relyonpdi.com/bathroom/luxury-bathrooms-its-all-in-the-details/]