#39) The Hindsight View of Interviewing Teachers
I knew Mr. Teacher was a bad fit for our school by his answer to “where do you see yourself in five years?” His response was “I’m going to be doing your job.” It is not that administrative ambition is a bad attribute for beginning teachers, yet there was something about the emphasis he placed on “your job”. My intuition said “no.” My fatigued optimism said “okay.” Beware of fatigued optimism, it clouds the accuracy of intuition. Regarding intuition or gut feelings, I continue to learn just how valuably accurate those notions are.
We had been through a demanding amount of interviews. Reverend Harris (the community activist who founded the school) and I were very deliberate and meticulous in our efforts to assemble a family instead a collection of staff members. Our approach was very painstaking and tiring; which by the end of days and days of interviews, our senses weren’t as acute as they had been. In our fatigue, we were missing things that we would have caught during the first interviews.
The next mistakes (or learning opportunities) were my own. First, I projected my values onto Mr. Teacher. Because I know firsthand the potential value of having a male teacher in early elementary classrooms, I assumed he would approach the job with the same vigor I did as a first year teacher. Second, I sought to give him the benefit of the doubt regarding his interview answer and chose to mentor his ambition. Finally, even as Mr. Teacher consistently demonstrated that he was our weakest instructor and that he did not have the patient firmness to develop classroom management strategies – I assisted, coached and hoped that things would turn around. I continued to choose to proceed along the course set by fatigued optimism. If only there were signs along the way that read: DEAD END AHEAD. Then again, maybe they were there all along.
There is an African Proverb that says:
A traveler came across a wounded, dying snake on the road. The gracious traveler picked up the snake, nursed it, feed it and made provisions for it while the snake regained its’ health. As he continued in his travels, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his side – the poisonous snake had bitten him. As he dropped to the road, dying, he called out to the snake – “why did you hurt me after all I did to help you?” The snake replied, “I thank you for all your help, but I’m still a snake.”
Mr. Teacher, the perennial substitute whom I gave his first teaching job, the one for whom I went extra miles so that he can participate in professional development, and the one for whom I taught lessons in his class to “model” effective instruction – was the one who bit me. He was the one who shared his venom. He chose to deliberately distort my counsel to cover his own mistakes. However, how can I be mad? He was a snake …right?
I’m not angry with Mr. Teacher. The biggest disappointment from that experience is what happened to Trevon. Trevon will forever be linked to my professional growth because when I did my first teacher evaluation, Trevon was in the small group being instructed by our pre-school teacher. He was so eagerly engaged, he was nearly answering questions before she could ask. He flourished in pre-school, kindergarten and first grade. Trevon was a jewel of student and a well-mannered child.
Because his grandmother believed in me, she transferred Trevon to our new school. We only had one second grade class; thus, Trevon was in Mr. Teacher’s class.
For third grade, Trevon returned to his original school. His third grade teacher, about whom I trusted my intuition, had hired against the advice of others and had proven to be a splendid asset to that school, told me how Trevon had begun the year behind his classmates. However, his natural intellect and committed grandparents helped him make up lost ground by the end of the first semester.
Trevon was impaired and uplifted by choices I made. I apologize to Trevon and his second grade classmates – I thought that I had made a respectable hire. I was wrong. I failed to trust my intuitive voice and that disregard had repercussions on others.
The ultimate irony is that Mr. Teacher, the least effective instructor I ever hired, indirectly taught me a whole heap of things. The experience with Mr. Teacher has profoundly enhanced my discernment. Moreover, despite his venom, despite the snakebite, I am still growing as I travel along this path of helping others.
#38) The Boston Celtics & the Future of Public Education
I’m a sports fan. I have learned so many of life lessons through sports. My conversations and my perceptions of things are usually seen through the lens of sports metaphors. My wife cooks something delicious – I hold up both arms to signify that “it’s good” as if it were a field goal. When I feel a presentation has gone really well, my reply to an inquiry of “how was it” is “nothing but net.” When faced with a looming deadline and I need to focus my energy, I tell myself “it’s the fourth quarter” and proceed with an earnest effort.
While I am not quite the Hoop Addict that Rashad is; I must say the 700 pages of Bill Simmons’s Book of Basketball were the most humorously delightful and insightful reading I’ve done in years. It also provided another sports lens through which I could perceive my profession.
While Magic Johnson and the Showtime Lakers was my team of choice as a child, I never discounted the tenacity and talent of the Boston Celtics. In fact, I held them in sort of a respectful fear. The type of fear that led me to believe Magic needed to play his best ball if the Lakers were going to win.
At the age of eleven, tragedy struck as I learned that sports stars are not invulnerable. I learned they are human and subject to the sometimes-harsh lessons of life. That tragedy was the death of Len Bias.
Click photo for link to awesome ESPN documentary clips
But this blog isn’t about Len Bias or the circumstances around his death; instead it is about the void created within the organization due to his death. Len Bias was an extraordinary talent who most certainly would have spent a few years as Larry Bird’s understudy and had been prepared to provide leadership to the Celtics for the next ten years or so. But it never happened. With his death, the future of Boston Celtics was hurled into organizational disarray highlighted by ensuing years of losing.
What I am afraid of is school years of disarray highlighted by years of losing kids. How does that happen? It happens when the Len Biases of our profession, novice and non-tenured staff, do not stay with the profession long enough to learn how to carry the championship mantel. With the Celtics, Bird, Kevin McHale’s and Robert Parrish’s playing days came to an end and although there were players on the roster, none possessed the prodigious talent of Len Bias. None were talented enough, committed enough, and passionate enough to win championships. It appears that during the drought between Celtic championships, those “in-between” players were just collecting a check.
Just collecting a check – that’s what unenthused, “those-kids-are-the-problem”, counting-the-days to vacation teachers are doing. Yes, they are on the team. Yes, they are certified to teach. But essentially, they are just occupying space; space that belongs to the Len Biases, the prodigious talents of education.
What’s even more frightening is that the over-emphasis on standardized testing and the lack of invested resources toward teacher development and retention will prove that the losing seasons of public education will last much longer than those of the Celtics.
#37) Five Years … Make Them Count
Some years ago I read an educational article that stated a significant percentage of new teachers will have left the profession in five years.
Only five years?
I compose this blog with a unique sense of irony because as fate would have it, I was out of the classroom after five years. Although I moved into school administration, I am evidence that the five-year premise has validity.
The five-year premise has to be taken within the context of the times. Context shapers include:
- Unlike my parents’ generation, who valued getting a good job and staying with it until retirement, it has been predicted that members of my generation will switch jobs/ careers several times during our working years.
- The predicted “teacher shortage” of the new millennium did not occur as drastically as anticipated. Perhaps, the economy is so dire, not many can actually afford to retire. Or many of those who were to retire are so invested in their commitment, that retirement is not something for which they are counting down the days.
- There are less “neighborhood teachers” in this generation. Teachers, who knew the parents, attended the local church and coached the little league teams. Newer teachers may live outside of the community, which in itself is not a bad thing, but does present complications for the bond forging that happens when teachers live and work in the community that they serve.
Those are just a few very general context shapers, now I will share a few personal ones:
- During my first year of teaching, our local union and administration approved a new contract that provided great compensation (as it should have) for veteran staff and pennies for new staff. When I compared my earnings with my college peers, the “good feelings” only carried me so far as I was still leaning on my parents to assist in areas where my earnings were too short.
- My third year was my best. Personally, professionally, and spiritually, it was indeed a time when all variables were working in beautiful harmony.
- The pervasiveness of professional development expectations loomed large. In order to move from a provisional license to a professional license, I had to attend a designated number of professional development hours or complete 18 credit hours in a graduate program. At the moment, I figured why take 18 hours of things I already knew (I had earned my master’s before teaching); why not use the opportunity to learn something new? That something new was administration. Which could lead to more pay and the opportunity to continue working in schools. Once I made that choice, the perfect variables from my third year of teaching changed. They transformed into: do I want to be doing the same thing at age 28 that I was doing at age 23? How many more years in this contract before I see a significant pay bump? I have more gifts to share, so I was beginning to feel “contained” in the traditional classroom. Along with those thoughts, came the psychological break from working to be an extraordinary teacher to I can exercise the skills I already developed while working on new talents.
I share those thoughts with you not in the spirit of whether they were good or bad, right or wrong; but instead to show how even a committed educator gradually choose to leave the classroom after five years.
So is all lost? I answer with a resounding NO!! Yet in addition to that answer I must add, some of the variables I experienced as a novice teacher expedited my transition away from the classroom. The cold shoulders from a number of my colleagues and the shrinking numbers of new teacher peers made me feel as if I were on an island, left with the singular choice of doing what was best for me. I no longer felt a part of the family, a part of the district, and a part of something larger than myself. In hindsight, the mentorship provided by then-MEA President Julius Maddox was essential in maintaining the fire to teach during my third through fifth years. After Julius was no longer president, it seemed as if the “professional growth” aspect of teaching had died and I became overwhelmingly discouraged with thoughts of doing the same thing for the rest of my life.
So for administrators, mentor teachers and others, it is complicated to change the tenor of the times. Some of your new teachers will find new careers. But it doesn’t have to be all of them. While I do not prescribe to having the cure-all remedy, I do strongly advocate creating a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose and a sense that one’s effort contributes to something larger than themselves. If your team can create that climate mixed in with appreciation and support, then chances are greater that your best new teachers will belong to the family for longer than five years.
#35) Measure Twice, Cut Once
I have recently returned to my alma mater as an administrator and professor. On the first day of staff introductions, I was reacquainted with the former Dean of Students. I thanked him for listening, for giving my situation full consideration and having a heart of empathy. For you see, the code of conduct explicitly states that fighting is prohibited and at that time when I was full of immature bravado, Dean Smith had more than enough justification to expel me.
Instead he chose to listen to all the circumstances, factor my immaturity and consider my potential. He chose to keep me as a probationary student. Had he chosen otherwise, we definitely would not have had our encounter this week.
My father is an electrician. Instead of giving me money, he made me earned it. I carried tools, installed a few light switches, held the ladders he climbed, swept up sawdust, got jerked around for holding drills improperly and held the flashlight while he worked after twilight. On one occasion, we were installing an outdoor lamp that was to be attached to a house. I had worked enough with my dad to earn his trust in bending and cutting pipe. Only eight feet of those ten-foot metal pipes were necessary to house the wiring for the light. My father with his penchant for uniqueness preferred two 45-degree bends as opposed to one 90-degree bend. Since he approaches his work like a craft, the precision of those 45-degree bends were a testimony to his skill and diligence. He entrusted me to carry out his signature bends and cut the pipe with the same assiduousness that he would. He said, “before you bend and cut that pipe, you better measure it twice to be sure the markings are right so we only have to bend and cut it once.”
He used this simple directive to masquerade a profound life-lesson – measure twice, cut once.
Regarding that pipe, I half-heartedly measured and commenced to produce unevenly distributed bends on a pipe cut too short. My dad docked my pay – the nicest part of learning that lesson. The disappointment on his face, the haphazard handling of his craft and the casual disregard for his directive all manifest itself in a midget-crook-in-the-neck pipe that we couldn’t use. Because when dealing with something essential, before making a choice that will alter its form, we should measure twice and cut once.
When administrators are overburdened with disciplinary issues, it’s easy to “suspend them all”, and in our fatigue, our frustration, and impatience we will make midget-crook-in-the-neck pipes of some of our students. Indeed, rules serve their purpose but for the child who would rather fight back than be bullied – we should measure their situation twice before dispensing discipline once. For every student kicked out of class for daring to stand-up to tyrannical teacher – we should measure twice, cut once. For every apparently combative parent that interrupts our day – measure twice, cut once. For every choice you make that impacts the life of another – measure twice, cut once.
Dean Smith chose to measure twice. When he accurately made the one cut slicing off my immaturity, he in fact contributed to building a future colleague.
#34) Preparation Meets Opportunity
The Roman philosopher, Seneca says:
Luck is when preparation meets opportunity.
I do not believe in luck. I believe in blessings. I believe in the unfolding of God’s plans. Yet, for God’s plans to unfold – there is a prerequisite called FAITH.
Years ago, I was a pretty good football player. My dad jumped started my work ethic when I was a small guy by pushing me to do half of the workout that my older brother, Damon, did. Damon played sports for DePorres. During his junior year, Damon did not lose a game in football or basketball. You see not only was Damon a well-prepared athlete, he was exercising his faith in God’s plans by preparing to make contributions to winning teams. Damon didn’t fold his arms and assume because they were DePorres that they would win. No, instead he invested himself in every practice, did extra work at home and in alignment with his teammates focused upon the championship opportunities ahead. There was the exercising of faith as preparation. There was God’s plan. There was opportunity and eventually the blessings – championships.
I didn’t go to DePorres. I mirrored Damon’s work ethic and extended a whole heap of self-will, but I never won a championship. In fact, my best opportunity for a championship was squandered by my own temper: “Coach, I got suspended for fighting … I’m gonna have to miss the game.” The game turned out to be a nail-biter. All of my teammates did their part, but we lost 9-7. What stands out is that I played outside linebacker; no one could run around my end. Except … when I wasn’t there. The difference in that game was that team ran around my end for more yards than all of our other opponents combined. Later that season, as our playoff hopes began to vanish, I prayed that God give my teammates a chance and to not let them down because of my choice to fight in school. While we were one of our school’s best football teams ever, we didn’t win a championship because when the opportunity was there, I was not prepared.
There is an African proverb that says: joy for the raindrop is entering the river. For years I have prepared. I have been underpaid. I have been aligned on some bad teams. I have learned from some upstarts, future greats and accomplished leaders. I have toiled as an understudy and background player. Forever focused upon God’s plan unfolding for me, forever preparing for the opportunity to be presented, forever hoping that this team will be my very own DePorres. Like an aircraft prepped and circling the runway, I have waited for the all-clear signal for take off. I have waited for another opportunity. I have long sought the joy of entering the river.
As we fold the calendar days back and prepare for 2010, I stand at the cusp. I stand at the end of what football players call off-season preparation. I have exercised, toiled, hoped, studied, researched, commuted, cried, prayed until finally … I’m here. One more step and the genesis of my dreams, an opportunity, and moreover God’s plan unfolds. Wow, this is it.
Michael Jackson – This Is It – Directed by Spike Lee from 40 Acres and a Mule Filmworks on Vimeo.
Happy New Year!!! (and thanks Rashad for the MJ link!)
#33) Dreams Come True ….
When we embark upon our chosen professions, some of us make our choice based upon how much money we expect to make. While others choose a profession as an extension of their dreams, their passions and an unyielding confidence that despite what others cannot see, their ambitions are obtainable and true happiness can be achieved.
Which is why we choose to dedicate this blog to our friend and soon-to-be one of the premier journalist in sports, Rashad Mobley. To say that Rashad is a sports fanatic is as obvious of a statement as saying water is wet. Sports and good music are essentials to Rashad. Moreover, documentation of each through thought-provoking, heartfelt stories is one of Rashad’s greatest passions. Recently, Rashad had the blessed fortune to interview NBA Hall of Famer, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. For years, he has shared with anyone who would listen that interviewing Kareem would be a dream come true. THANK YOU Rashad, because the fulfillment of your dream is an inspiration (& great read) for us all! As for the rest of us, the new year is quickly approaching – have you been working toward your dreams? Hopefully you have, because along the way is where you will find some of your greatest joy.
Kareem & Rashad
#32) What’s Worse than Worst?
Fourth and Eight Grade students in Detroit Public schools achieved the worst scores ever measured by the National Assessment of Education Progress – the … Worst … Scores … EVER.
Can it get any worse?
I will not waste time blaming teachers, because too many capable ones are over worked in overcrowded classrooms – so, no I do not blame them.
I will not waste time blaming the past administration – the present shape of the district speaks more loudly about their actions than I ever could.
I won’t even blame the school board – I probably could but just like the administration the current state of the district speaks to their leadership.
What I hope to contribute with this blog is my two cents advocating visionary leadership for school districts. Maybe no one else may agree, but I emphatically state that too often educational organizations are the most unimaginative, slow-to-change, reactive-instead-of-proactive organizations of all. Or maybe that perception only holds merit in Detroit, but I doubt it.
For you see, many of the ingredients that can be found in this distasteful stew of deficiency– evaporating tax bases, diminishing per-pupil spending, crumbling infrastructure, and more have been brewing for years, even decades. None of those detracting attributes occurred over night. Did anyone see the writing on the wall? Did anyone hold a finger to the wind? Did anyone care to prepare for the future?
The ongoing vitality of any institution or organization relies its ability to be innovative and maintain current success while learning from shortcomings. Just as General Motors has demonstrated, not all organizations realize they have fallen behind until it’s nearly too late. Perhaps Robert Bobb will lead an educational revolution in Detroit much like Carlos Ghosn did at Nissan or even as Lee Iacocca did at Chrysler; it does appear that he is laying the foundation for such a revival. As for Detroit Public Schools, if the NAEP test scores reveal nothing else they should sound a clarion call for change … because it can’t get any worse than worst, can it?
#31) Griff, my departed friend
In a sense, I guess we can say the dismissal bells of life have rang for Jerome Griffith. This immense sadness with which we are feeling due to his passing is only surpassed by the incredible joy we recall when thinking about our experiences with him. As has been said all too often, we never really miss what we have until it’s gone – I guess that’s what makes us human, ever idealistic that these moments, these friends, these love ones will be with us forever. Griff has reminded us of the error in those assumptions.
When I met Griff, I was a novice administrator and he was one of the teachers in my department. His charming, personable manner endeared him to many. Moreover, the effectiveness of his instruction resonated throughout the building. Say what you may, but this brother could TEACH!! I would often kid him about one of his evaluations, when he began to believe the lesson wasn’t going as it should. I was already impressed, but his personal expectations were higher than what could be measured on an evaluative rubric. So suddenly, he rolls up his sleeves, kicks off his shoes and commences to deliver one of the most outstanding lessons I’ve ever seen. The lesson was an introduction to compound words, and like a great composer at work, he was conducting, teaching, assessing, engaging and inspiring those students to level of comprehension so impacting that in the years that have passed I still marvel when I see the word down/town.
Maybe that was it. Whenever you meet someone passionate about their craft, it sticks with you. It becomes a measuring stick used against everyone else. It carves its own space in your memory and moreover, it can become a tipping point in your life.
I am honored to have worked with Griff. More than being a phenomenal teacher, language arts extraordinaire, he is my friend. When I saw him and a few other former colleagues at a recent teacher conference, for a moment we were all family. Together, we shared hugs and a few quick laughs and then we departed to our respective sessions. I suppose that’s life; for a moment, we’re together sharing good times and a few quick laughs – then we depart pursuing our own respective journeys. But at that moment, I never expected that I wouldn’t see my friend Griff again. That’s Griff; even in passing he teaches a lesson. Rest in peace my friend.
Griff, Harris & Radzik - our Second Grade Team
#30) Don’t Smile Until Thanksgiving
I began my first year teaching weeks prior to my 23rd birthday. One of the veterans on the staff shared with me that because I was so young that the students would try to get over on me. Because of that, she suggested I should begin the school year very firm and stern. To insure a no-nonsense approach, she also recommended that I not smile until Thanksgiving.
On the surface, that advice seems both humorous and cantankerous. Yet, beneath the surface lies the value. It is much more to a teacher’s advantage to begin the school year firm and fair and eventually develop a rapport that is friendly and loving but mandates excellent effort; than it is to begin the year too friendly and fun only to be left scrambling the rest of the year attempting to regain control.
Effective instruction cannot happen in a mismanaged classroom. While it is true that we seek to develop learners with a voice and ability to reason, the classroom still remains most successful under the reigns of a caring, driven, benevolent monarch. Meaning there should be clear lines of leadership, organization, responsibilities, roles and expectations. This does not advocate tyranny or intimidation, but it does prescribe to a teacher managing the learning environment as a responsible adult leading children.
It has always amused me that some of the most incorrigible students, after their initial rebellion, respond so productively to a well-organized and firm teacher. Yes, the teacher laughs (sometimes). However, their leadership, their instruction, and their sincere concern about student learning is not a joke.
Too often in mismanaged classrooms, we find teachers attempting to be buddies with the students. Being a buddy and having buddy moments are different. If a student is troubled and seeks compassion – that can be a buddy moment. Allowing student misbehavior for fear of hurting their feelings is being a buddy and it is a recipe for disaster. Want to witness a horror movie in the making? Visit a teacher who is too chummy with the children during the first weeks of school, within months you will watch in horror as that teacher fumbles additional task like time management and completing instructional objectives. Why, because too much energy will be used in hoping to coax their young buddies into listening.
That doesn’t mean that the buddy-teacher cannot turn things around, because they can. It is a massive undertaking, but can and has been done. One thing that has to change is their perception of themselves. Sure, buddies care about each other. However, buddies often do not know more than their counterparts, as if they are peers or on equal footing. So if the students think that they are buddies with the teacher, it distorts their understanding of the teacher’s role. The transformation of the buddy-teacher begins with the teacher’s own understanding that they are the educational professional, the resident expert within their classroom. This self-perception establishes them as the sage and because of their care and concern, they choose to practice a variety of strategies to facilitate the learning of the children blessed to be in their classroom. By no means, is the intention snobbish; but in seeing oneself as the leader and as the expert, teachers carry themselves in a more responsible way – a responsible way that belies buddy-buddy relationships with children.
Once the roles within the classroom are defined, expectations established and there is evidence of how those things can work for everyone – when all those things happen, then the teacher can smile … and hopefully it’s before Thanksgiving.
Share your thankfulness with the ones you love this Thanksgiving!