Family First

As I write this week, I'm surrounded by "to-do" lists: Professional, personal, pre-Christmas, travel, and others. It's the way that I organize my life, with actual, physical "to-do" lists on yellow legal pads. Yes, it's old school but it works for me.

I'm also surrounded by My Boys, as we watch the World Cup. I did not grow up watching soccer or being interested in soccer. I've morphed into a soccer fan because Brendan and Patrick played, at times competitively, in travel soccer leagues. Given their interest in soccer, that becomes my interest in soccer. 

In East Greenwich we are on the verge of the Holiday Recess. Including weekends, it's ten days away from our work together in education. A well deserved break, time carved out for rest, relaxation, and time to recharge. I shared a graphic with our staff this week, which indicated that our employees are "always on" when it comes to education: 

Photo courtesy of www.edutopia.com

It's time for a break. By the time Friday, December 23 is checked off the calendar, we will have had seventy four days with our learners, with one hundred six left on the other side of this time off. All of our employees, regardless of their role, have dealt with the emotions of education since our first day of school in August. We've felt every high, been touched deeply by every low, and met every feeling in between. That's not isolated to our teachers. It's felt by every individual who is in a building, and it radiates to all of us who work outside of the six buildings in EG, through district level work. 

It's felt by our Techology Department, who have kept all six buildings running smoothly with consistent internet access. It's felt by our Facitlites Department, who have responded promptly and efficiently to the needs of the aging infrastructure in need of upgrades. No one calls either of these departments to thank them for things running as expected. Much like our Town Departments, they only get called when things go wrong. 

It is time for a break. It's time to put our families first. It's time to surround ourselves with people that know us best, who support the work we do on a daily basis, on behalf of someone else's children. It's time to put our own families first. 

These weeks between Thanksgiving and the Winter Holiday Recess are some of the most challenging in education. They're full of anticipation and stress, regardless of our age. They remind us that families are imperfect, and that this time of year reminds us of those who no longer gather around our holiday tables. Plus for those for whom family is not "Normal Rockwell-esque," it's additional pressure. 

So with gratitude for all of the employees of East Greenwich Public Schools, I hope that this week is something that you can make for yourselves. That is can be full of self-care, as well as surrounded by those who are important to you. I know that it how I hope to spend these days. 

When the "to-do" lists are crossed off, or done at some level, I hope that this time can remind us of who we are as people. Not employees of the best public school district in the state of Rhode Island. But mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, husbands, wives, aunts, uncles, cousins, and family members. That is our most important role. What we do in education is critical; but who we are as people comes first. 

Photo courtesy of www.picturequotes.com

Out of My Comfort Zone

I did something this week that I've never done before. It was something that I needed to do. I joined a class at a local gym to try to get into better shape. 

I've never been much of an athlete, topping out at junior varsity basketball and baseball while running track all four years of high school. Instead of playing basketball and baseball, I turned to officiating to stay close to the sports I love. The only sports I played in college were intramurals while I continued officiating. As my life progressed, I was happy to do a little running, a little walking, a little officiating, and keep myself healthy. 

Then I let life and Father Time begin to intervene. I was not running as often as I wanted to and finally stopped altogether. That was fine, my weight was still in a place I was OK with. Then I had the conversation with my doctor, who told me that the amount of exercise had nothing to do with weight loss anymore. I had reached that age. 

Exercise now was exclusively for my mental health. My diet was now in direct control of my weight. I saw a two as the first number of my weight for the first time in my life. 

So I joined a class that meets three days a week, from 5:30 - 6:30 AM, to help get me in better shape. My only problem is that this is my first time in a class like this. I've never worked out with weights or other people before. Of course, I've been to team practices, but I went to high school in the late eighties and early nineties, and the weight room was almost exclusively for the football team. 

Fortunately, the other members of my class looked like me and admitted they're like me at our first session. Almost all are dads, trying to find a way to beat the all-too-quick passage of time and stay healthy as our children grow. It's a humbling experience. 

At least once during each class, I don't think I'm going to make it through all the circuits. There is often at least one of the exercises that I cannot do all of the reps for. And since I've never lifted weights before (in my life), I'm certainly the person with the least amount of additional weight on the bar. 

I am absolutely and utterly uncomfortable in that class. 

But I've made it through every class. I've completed all the circuits. I may not do all the reps... yet, but I am doing as many as I can. I'm training muscles that have never been used before (and are pretty sore) in the hopes that they will grow with me. 

That's what we want for all our learners in East Greenwich Public Schools, students and adults alike. We want them to grow. If we want all our learners to grow, they must step outside of their comfort zones once in a while. To step out of your comfort zone takes courage. You must feel safe, welcomed, and included. That is our work, to continue to grow a foundation of inclusivity with relationships at the center. When our learners feel that, they will take a risk, go to a place they've never been before, and hopefully grow. 

The truth is, that's how and when we all will grow; when we are out of our comfort zone. 

Photo courtesy of www.priohio.com

Going Far

There is an African proverb that says, "If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together." I've been thinking about this quote, especially as I continue to learn and grow into the superintendency in East Greenwich. There's a lot of wisdom in that quote. 

There is a lot of positional authority and power in the role of superintendent. Yet, as I often tell people, the only thing I can do without consulting the School Committee, or our policies, is to decide on a snow day. After very thoughtful conversations with our Teachers' Association, traditional snow days are back this year in East Greenwich. 

So besides snow days, there are very few, if any, decisions that I can make unilaterally. Let me rephrase that: there are very few, if any, decisions that I want to make unilaterally. That's not why I became a superintendent. 

In fact, twenty years ago, I was certain I did not want to be a superintendent. One of the seminal moments of my relationship with My Wife occurred outside Bagel Rising on Commonwealth Avenue in Allston, MA. The shop itself was too full to sit inside, so while sitting on the curb eating our bagel sandwiches, my then-girlfriend looked right at me and said, "Ricca, you're going to be a great superintendent one day!"

I did not know where to start my rebuttal to that statement. I was a self-contained first-grade teacher at the time. Twenty-four first graders were my professional world, and I loved it. To this day, if I ever leave leadership, I want to go right back to first grade. Still, at the time, I had no desire for the superintendency. From my perspective, superintendents were paper pushers who worked with school committees, far away from the classroom. 

Fast forward to 2011, and with some (OK, a lot) encouragement from My Wife, I applied for my first superintendency. I did not expect to be called back after the first round of interviews or the second round. As I left the Montpelier High School Library after my presentation in the third round, I did not expect to have landed the position. In fact, when my first School Board Chair, Ms. Sue Aldrich, called me to offer me the job, my initial response was, "Are you sure?" When she said, "That's not what you want to hear from your next superintendent," I quickly accepted the position. 

Still, I was struggling with the distance from the classroom. Let me clarify my perceived distance from the school. Someone reminded me that I was entirely in control of my schedule, so I made time for classroom visits. As I grew in my leadership, I added office hours, virtually, in-person, and for the community. I did not know my superintendent as a student. I want our students to know me and that my job is to ensure that they feel safe, welcomed, and included when they come to school so they can learn to their fullest potential. 

I know I cannot do this alone. I could not do it alone in Montpelier. I did not do it alone in St. Johnsbury. I want to do it with the students, faculty, staff, families, and community members in East Greenwich. 

At the Inauguration on Thursday, December 1, everyone who spoke talked about the value of collaboration. The value of twelve elected officials working in service to this town. The value of disagreeing without being disagreeable. The value of continuing to build bridges, connections, and relationships. 

As one of the newest members to join this work, this is music to my ears. Relationships are the basis of our work in education, with no exceptions. In our classrooms, in leadership, and in working with the community, it's about relationships. This is how we make a difference. If I was to ask you to name your favorite teacher(s), I'm confident that immediately you would be able to name an educator, not because of the content s/he taught, but because of how that person made you feel. 

We have an opportunity in East Greenwich, a rare opportunity to go far on behalf of our Town. 

And to do so together. 

Photo courtesy of www.therandomvibez.com

The Pursuit of Excellence

We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit (Aristotle). 

In the five months, I have served in East Greenwich as superintendent of schools, we have talked a great deal about academic excellence. At our School Committee meeting on Tuesday, November 15, Michael Podraza, Assistant Superintendent for Teaching and Learning, shared a comprehensive breakdown of our RICAS and SAT scores. There will be additional information shared by our principals on Tuesday, December 6, specific to each building. Our foundational mission as schools is to work with our students to learn and grow as scholars. 

And, just as importantly, is ensuring that our students learn and grow as people. The work of relationships is foundational to our humanity. When we look around, we see far too many examples of humans finding ways to reduce another's humanity to skin color, gender identity, political affiliation, religious beliefs, or any other way to separate us from each other. Once that separation is created, humans can find ways to inflict harm, violence, or even worse on one another. Even when the reality remains that we all laugh when we think something is funny, we cry when we feel something is sad (or deeply joyful), and when our skin is broken, we bleed. 

As we look around our world in 2022, it is clearly crying out for people who know how to be in relationship with others, especially with others who don't see the world in exactly the same way. We need critical thinkers, problem solvers, bridge builders, and those committed to finding ways to connect. We don't want to be academically excellent at the expense of others. Then we would be like the doctor who can accurately diagnose a rare disease but has no empathy (nor sympathy) to communicate appropriately to the individual who contracted it. 

Since we first heard the word COVID, we know that the last two years have impacted us as human beings. All of us. The disease transcends skin color, gender identity, political affiliation, religious beliefs, or any other way we separate ourselves as humans. We know that adults and students have been affected by our choices due to COVID, even the ones made for us. We know there is still healing that must take place. That work is not done. 

Neither is the work of teaching and learning. But the social-emotional work must be done together with the academic work. They cannot be done in isolation from one another; they must be done in tandem. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit. 

Both in academics and in relationships. 

Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving is one of my most favorite holidays. From my perspective, it gets the short shrift because of the recency of Halloween and the forward-looking toward those we celebrate in December. I recognize that part of the origin includes a celebration of when we took land from Native Americans, which we need to reckon with as a country. 

Still, when we see holiday decorations and gifts displayed in grocery stores, pharmacies, and around our neighborhoods in November, it feels to me like we are looking past this celebration. It is a day for food and family, recognizing that family is not easy for everyone. I've yet to meet the perfect family or even one that resembles the Normal Rockwell Thanksgiving painting. Still, this Thursday, we sit down with those who are important to us, pause, and give thanks. As someone new to East Greenwich Public Schools, these first five months have been a gift, and here are those whom I am thankful for: 

Our students - despite being a relative stranger, I have been welcomed into classrooms, science labs, hallways, and lunch fields. Whether in early elementary or in high school, the EGPS students have engaged with me thoughtfully and meaningfully.

Our teachers - every day, these professional men and women pour their entire selves into planning, lessons, and assessments. They, too, have opened their classrooms and professional spaces to me asked me questions, partnered with me, and collaborated in a way that makes me very proud to serve EG with them. 

Our paraeducators - these men and women make it possible for some of our students to fully access the education available in East Greenwich. Some students would not be as included in our classroom environments without them. Our paraeducators assist with some of the most basic functions for our students, and they do so with love, empathy, and compassion. 

Our administrative staff - always with a smile, they welcome me into each building when I visit. They answer the phones, coordinate schedules, and ensure that each school runs smoothly. Their professionalism ensures that the most minor details are not overlooked, that our students go home on the correct bus (or in the right car), and that the school functions as it should. 

Our facilities staff - when I think about this team's work, the word stewardship comes to mind. With an eye toward the future, and one on the present, our buildings look and feel taken care of, down to the shiny floors we all walk on. I've often observed members of our facilities teams interacting with our students, building their own relationships with them. We never know which adult will be the one that makes a difference in the life of a child. 

Our technology team - no one calls the Director of Technology to say "thank you - today, the internet is up and running." Often a team that lives in the background (until something goes amiss), and yet their attention to the critical infrastructures that support teaching and learning cannot go unnoticed. Their commitment to growth is only matched by their curiosity and desire to maintain smooth operations throughout our district. 

Our district staff - a combination of department heads, district leaders, and administrative staff have warmly embraced me with all my quirks. Whether it is joining me in my celebration as I announce that we finally hired a school psychologist, ensuring that my schedule is balanced, or quietly supporting my sweet tooth, I am so fortunate to be surrounded by excellence at 111 Peirce Street. 

Our town leadership - from the manager to the councilors to the staff at 125 Main Street- has demonstrated a willingness to partner with the school department as we look to the future. I'm proud of the conversations we have had so far, as well as those that are to come. Their collaboration and leadership are genuine and the hallmarks of meaningful relationships.  

Our local media - the two things I look for in a media outlet are fair and balanced. The EG News has been nothing but that since I was named superintendent. It is undoubtedly not something I take for granted, so I appreciate their work on behalf of our schools. 

Our school committee - seven professionals who take the time twice a month, and many hours in between, to come together to better serve the students and families of East Greenwich. As superintendent, I cannot ask for much more. I'm proud to lead with them and thrilled to inherit a strategic plan entitled "All Means All." The power in that simplicity has been a north star for me. 

On behalf of My Family, thank you for welcoming me to East Greenwich. All the Riccas wish you a Happy Thanksgiving!

Photo courtesy of https://medium.com/@zookkini/on-gratitude-640df0a8d62

All Votes Count

On Tuesday, November 8, I spent the evening watching both the Twitter feed of East Greenwich News (@egreenwichnews) as well as keeping an eye on WPRI. It was my first election in East Greenwich, and I was unsure what to expect. At 8:42 PM that evening, this tweet caught my attention: 

Two votes. 

Our democracy is founded on the principle of voting, and while the United States votes more than most of our peer countries, it is a right that is fundamental to who we are. Other countries don't allow their citizens to vote or have what would charitably be considered sham elections, complete with strong-arming, intimidation, and crooked election officials. Even given all this, according to the Pew Research Center, the United States ranks thirty-first when compared to developed world peers for voting-age population turnout. 

Two votes. 

I learned at a young age how important voting was. I remember going to my elementary school with my parents, watching the curtain close behind us, and being fascinated with the buttons. With the pull of the handle, we were done, and the curtain automatically opened. From my awe and wonder of the machines themselves, I also remember distinctly registering for my mail-in ballot so that I could vote while a first-year student at Holy Cross in the Presidential election in 1992. 

Two votes. 

I have voted in every election I've been eligible for. I talk about voting with my students. I talk about voting with my friends and family. I believe in the power of our democracy, even when the result is not how I voted. 

Two votes. 

More often than not, I hear something to the effect of: "My vote won't matter." Or "I can't impact the election." Or "No one will know the difference if I've voted." 

Two votes. 

While serving as the Superintendent of Schools in St. Johnsbury, Vermont, we had a special election for a bond project in the fall of 2019. The School Board (called Boards in Vermont) proposed reconfiguring the front hallway and connecting an environmentally friendly heating, ventilating, and air conditioning system. The measure passed by nine votes. If five people had voted differently, the bond would not have passed. 

In the case of East Greenwich, the final margin was more than two votes. But at 8:42 PM, on Tuesday, November 8, the election for School Committee was that close. Every voice is important. 

Thank you to every resident of East Greenwich who voted last week. 

Photo courtesy of the Classroom Law Project

A Crummy Six Letter Word

I first heard this word in the fall of 1982. I don't remember the details, just the upshot. My grandfather was diagnosed with it and had approximately six to eight months to live. If you were wondering, that doesn't land well with a third-grader. 

I LOVED my Grandpa, and he loved me. I have distinct, down to the smallest detail, memories of some of my most cherished moments with him. Before I went to school, on Fridays, I would watch Sesame Street, then go outside and wait by the corner for his car to come up the street, with him and my Nana coming to pick me up. We would go to the nursing home where my Omar (great-grandmother) was living. Just the three of us - not my parents, brother, or sister. Just me. 

While at the nursing home, I was the king of that castle. Seriously, I must have thrown off the average age of the people there by a factor of ten. I had the run of the place. Even to the point that once, when I got a hard candy stuck in my throat, I was told at least three nurses came to my aid, turned me upside down, and whacked my back until it was dislodged. 

Then, the ride home to get hot dogs, from a truck on the right-hand side of the road, right off their exit. Allegedly, I once said, "You can drop off Nana first," wanting to have him all to myself. I really was in love with her too. After hot dogs, I spent the rest of the day with him where he worked. 

Then that six-letter word: cancer. And in the spring of 1983, he passed away. As a third-grader, it made no sense. It still makes no sense to this day, and this spring, it will be forty years later. 

Even superintendents were little once. 
Can you pick me out of the two rumble seat boys?

I was reminded of that twice this week when two different e-mail messages came into my inbox. Both had that six-letter word. Both brought me back to the spring of 1983. 

The first was a staff member telling me they needed a day for a follow-up visit. The day was next to an existing non-employment day, and while permission was not required, this individual wanted to ensure I knew why the absence occurred. During the message, this person stated the reason for the follow-up, and it had to do with cancer. 

I couldn't write back fast enough to acknowledge receipt of the message. I shared how unnecessary it was and my gratitude for sharing part of their story with me. Also completely unnecessary. After clicking send, I sat back and thought of my grandfather. 

One day later, another message came in from a different staff member, also including that six-letter word. This time it was letting me know someone in their family had been recently diagnosed, and while again unnecessary, letting me know they would need some of their sick days to be with his person. I again acknowledged their message, expressed my empathy and gratitude. Clicked send and, once again, thought of my grandfather. 

One word. Two days in a row. Changing lives. 

The truth is neither individual needed to share their stories with me. Sick days are not only for the individuals themselves but for families. I'm humbled that they did. It gives me a little more of a window into who they are, both because they chose to share with me and to ensure that I can have the whole picture. Sometimes because I'm the superintendent, I'm entitled to that, but in this case, both employees chose to share with me. I'm proud of that. 

It also reminds me that we all know so little about the lives of others. We see their behaviors when they come to work, and we have no idea what else they're dealing with when they go home. I learned a critical lesson from one of my first principals when he told me, "It's our job to walk with people during every phase of their lives." It's why my commitment to relationships is so fundamental to my leadership. 

We really don't know what is happening in the lives of the people around us beyond what we see day-to-day. Be kind.

It's not trite. It's true. 

Photo courtesy of @childrensociety

It's the Little Things

I'm just as guilty of this as the next person. Looking around for the "big moments." Trying to capture something "huge." This week, I was fortunate to notice two little things that made a big difference in the lives of people in East Greenwich Public Schools. 

A relatively large number of people had gathered for a meeting at one of our buildings when one of our staff members needed to step out to take a call. The call was from this staff member's child to tell their parent some disappointing news. That staff member returned to the meeting with tears in their eyes because, as any parent knows, you're only as happy as your least happy child. When we inquired and heard what had transpired, we quickly realized there was nothing we could do but extend our compassion, empathy, and kind words to this individual. 

There were no grand gestures. There was nothing dramatic. We empathized as parents, sympathized as humans, and expressed that to this staff member. I was proud to see so much kindness from the people in that room. I awoke the next day to the following text message from that staff member: 

I immediately thought to myself, I didn't do anything. And it was only upon reflection that I realized I was a part of the community of people in that room who reached out to comfort a colleague. We couldn't make it better. We could not fix it. And still, what we did, made a difference. 

The second moment took place in that same meeting. A different staff member was being praised for their work at their building by multiple people. The theme was recurring, and it slowly became clear that the staff member was uncomfortable with all the praise. At one point, the staff member muttered, "Please stop it. I'm just doing my job." A colleague at the table, who was also sharing compliments, nudged the too-embarrassed individual and said, "Hey, you earned them." 

There's a sense among educators that we have to be humble all the time. We can't take credit. We can't celebrate. We have to make it about others. I've done that myself. Brene Brown talks about this in her book Dare to Lead: Brave Work. Tough Conversations. Whole Hearts: 

"We don't want our employees to get too excited because there's still so much work to be done. We don't want them to take their foot off the gas, to get complacent. So we don't celebrate achievements. We think we'll do it someday, but these same factors persist in the wake of joy. This is how foreboding joy shows up at [school], and it's a costly mistake." 

I've been in education for twenty-six years, and in all of those years, I've not seen a celebration cause complacency once. Not once. Not one single time. Kudos to the staff member that encouraged their colleague to bask in the glow of deserving compliments. 

Education is such a personal endeavor. Teachers pour their entire selves into their lessons, assessments, and interactions. Paraeducators develop relationships with our children, ensuring they can have full access to the excellent education East Greenwich provides to them. Staff members answer phones, pay bills, sweep floors, feed children, and lead departments and buildings. We bring our whole selves to the work that we do every day. 

I'm proud to have seen the best of East Greenwich in less than fifteen minutes. I saw staff members reach out to comfort a colleague and a colleague push another into the spotlight to celebrate. It's just another way that All Means All in the East Greenwich Public Schools. 

Who Do You Appreciate?

In the months following Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg's death, much was made of her deep friendship with Justice Antonin Scalia. To be fair, the same was done in the months following Scalia's death as well. The two could not be further apart on the ideological spectrum, yet their well-documented friendship stood the test of time and the politics surrounding the Supreme Court. 

It was an open secret that Scalia would send Ginsburg his opinions in advance, and once she noted because of reading one of those opinions, "He [Scalia] absolutely ruined my weekend." It was also well known that Scalia would send Ginsburg two dozen flowers on her birthday. Judge Jeffrey Sutton, a former clerk to Scalia, remembers asking of the Supreme Court Justice, "What good have all these roses done for you? Name one five-four case of any significance where you got Justice Ginsburg's vote." To which Scalia replied, "Some things are more important than votes." 

I was reminded of this relationship earlier this week when I saw this tweet from Eric Bradner from CNN. Current Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor was giving a talk in Chicago at Roosevelt University. She was asked how she maintains relationships with judges she disagrees with, particularly Clarence Thomas. This was her response: 

To be fair, I have no idea what Justice Thomas would say of his relationship with Justice Sotomayor, but based on what she shares about Justice Thomas' relationships with others, it's reasonable to wonder if he thinks similarly her. There is much we can learn, and emulate from these four justices, who sat and sit, on the highest court in our country. In this instance, it has nothing to do with the law. 

The examples shared demonstrate that the relationships between these justices were forged on respect and love, that went beyond their legal opinions and perspectives. It showed how despite their differences, they built relationships based on the person, not the ideas the person holds. These four human beings are finding ways to connect, despite not agreeing on everything. That is a life lesson that we desperately need in 2022. 

On Monday, October 17, Nicholas Rath, Chair of the Science Department at East Greenwich High School invited me to speak to his class of Advanced Placement Environmental Science students. He asked me to talk about my ideas around leadership, as the students will be holding their own version of the Conference of Parties (COP) Conference. This November, the Egyptian Government will host the COP 27 Conference to build on previous successes and find more ways to address global climate change. Given that climate change, like many other issues has been heavily politicized, one of the ideas I offered to the AP students was that as leaders, we need to lean into the grey. 

Too often issues become black or white, right or wrong, Republican or Democrat. When that happens, we often dismiss the person who hold those ideas in that black or white, all or nothing view. We lose the perspective that it is a person who has those views. A person. A human being. Someone who laughs when something is funny. Someone who cries when something is sad. Someone who when their skin is cut, they bleed. Just like you and me. 

Leaders must lean into the grey, and learn from these esteemed members of the United States Supreme Court to build relationships based on respect, love, and appreciation for those who see the world differently than we do. Educators must lean into the grey, so that we can teach our students to lean into the grey. Slowly, one relationship at a time, we must begin to slow the polarization that is creeping further and further into our world. 

Who do you appreciate, that sees the world differently than you do? 

Photo courtesy of www.karstennoack.com

Mistakes Happen

This past week, one staff member copied me on an e-mail to another staff member, in which they admitted they had made a mistake. They blew it. Completely missed the mark. 

I celebrate that e-mail. 

We make mistakes. Every single day. In our personal lives. In our professional world. Mistakes are a part of life. Consider this graphic: 

Photo courtesy www.drlizcarter.com

Success is perceived as a straight line. We know better. Success includes pauses, resets, full stops, and restarts. We all know the graphic on the right is so much more accurate. 

In the e-mail, this staff member owned their mistake, made amends, and offered to take steps to fix the problem. Isn't that precisely what we ask of our students? Isn't that precisely what we ask of our own children? Isn't that precisely what we ask in any relationship we are a part of? 

Mistakes are how we learn. It's true. Some are harder to fix than others, but it is a fact that rarely, if ever, will we go through the learning process and not make a mistake. The East Greenwich Public Schools are home to the learning process, and so much learning happens outside of our six schools. Learning occurs on the weekend, at the dinner table, on family vacations, in the car, and in any of the myriad moments away from our schools. 

I am grateful for the thorough process I underwent to earn this position in East Greenwich. In one of the sessions, I was asked about something I wish I could have done differently in my educational career. I shared the story of when I was a baby teacher on the Near West Side of Chicago and how I utterly overreacted to one of my kiddos not completing their homework. It was a complete overreaction. I am not proud of who I was that day. 

When I finished retelling this story, my message to the School Committee was this: I didn't make that same mistake again. I made mistakes. I make mistakes. I will make mistakes. That's all a part of the learning process. I aim to not make the same mistake twice. 

I am proud to serve in a community where people name their mistakes. It's what excellent educators do. It's how we all learn. 

And it feels like home. 

Photo courtesy of www.unicornjazz.com

An Ordinary Interaction

I've been on Twitter since 2011, when I began my first superintendency. It's been some of the best professional development I've had from the comfort of my own home. As one of my former colleagues noted, "Twitter is about connecting with people based on the merit of the idea." While it can be a rabbit hole, if you're thoughtful and careful, it is a fantastic way to grow and be in the world. Case in point last week, in this reply to someone who has no idea who I am: 

When I read the initial tweet from National Public Radio's Scott Simon, I immediately remembered Nancy, the crossing guard on the corner of the street where I grew up in Mt. Vernon, New York. I didn't even need to cross the street, but almost every morning of elementary school, I was on the corner talking with her. Somewhere in the boxes of our basement is a picture of me and her - I desperately tried to find it for this post, but alas, I could not. 

Last spring, I had the chance to learn with Dr. Junlei Li, from the Graduate School of Education at Harvard University. Dr. Li is inspired by the legendary Fred Rogers, and as such he is "committed to understanding and supporting the work of helpers - those who serve children and families on the frontlines of education and social service." He shared with us that after decades of research on resilience, the single most common finding is that children who end up doing well have had at least one stable and committed relationship with a supportive parent, caregiver, or other adult. 

The title of Dr. Li's presentation was "More Than Just One Thing: Appreciating the Power of Simple, Ordinary Interactions." As a part of his team's work, they studied the interactions children had with all people in their world, including crossing guards. On a street corner in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, they recorded the daily moments between a crossing guard and the young people in that neighborhood. It was inspiring. 

This crossing guard called every child by name. She mentioned if she noticed a new hair cut. She asked about parents or siblings. There was something different but personal about the way she connected with each child as they crossed the street, safely together. The longest interaction Dr. Li's team recorded was twelve seconds. 

Twelve seconds. Two tenths of one minute. A fraction of a moment. An ordinary interaction. 

While I reflected on this tweet, and the idea for this blog post began to ruminate in my mind, I recalled one of the things that drew me to East Greenwich. On the day that I spent visiting schools in this district in April, I was escorted through the buildings by each principal. While walking around, and a child crossed our path, every principal greeted every one of them by name. 

Every single child. A fraction of a moment. An ordinary interaction. 

So Mr. Simon, that eight year old boy, son of someone in a nail salon you pass most days. You wave. You play hide and seek behind your hands. You high-five. You sneak him cookies. He giggles. When he's grown up, and a scientist, banker, teacher, or poet, he will remember you. 

Beecause of those ordinary interactions. 

Photo Courtesy of www.schoollibraryjournal.com

Who Gets Credit?

During my final interview in East Greenwich, I was surrounded by several district-level folks. After answering the interview questions from the School Committee, the committee members opened it up to the other people at the table. One of them was put on the spot when a School Committee member asked: "Do you have any questions for our candidate?" After a moment's pause, this individual said, "What do you want from the person in my role?" To be fair, I'm not naming the individual or the role.

I thought about it for a moment. "Your best ideas for how to move East Greenwich forward." The individual looked at me, puzzled, as it is a non-educational role but still critical to our operations. The truth is, I have no idea where the next best idea for East Greenwich is going to come from. 

In my experience, we too often think about schools and departments as silos. Perhaps it comes from the fact that as we go further up in our educational journey, we see more specialized content. Perhaps it's just a fixture of education. Perhaps we can change that thinking. 

In a meeting with East Greenwich Town Manager Andy Nota this week, he shared with me that there are eleven other departments that are a part of the town. We are one of eleven - granted, I think very highly of our department, and I'm humbled to stand on the shoulders of those who have come before me in East Greenwich. I also believe we have a very bright future, and it will take all of us to continue the academic excellence that our town is known for. 

Maybe the next great idea for East Greenwich will come from a teacher. Maybe it will come from a School Committee member. Maybe it will come from a community member. Maybe it will come from a student. I genuinely don't care where it comes from. I simply want it to come forward. 

Starting this month, I will be holding office hours at our schools and in our community. The ones in the schools will be for any employee in that building. The ones in the community will be for any member of the community. There will be some in person, and some held virtually. 

My door, phone, and e-mail inbox are all open. Feel welcome to reach out, and ask a question. I love coffee, a great deli sandwich, and the New York Yankees. We can talk about education, we can talk about sports, we can talk about who you are. 

I want to know the best way to move the East Greenwich Public Schools forward and to continue the beautiful relationships that lead to the academic excellence this community is known for. Do you have an idea about how to do that? 

I would love to hear from you and give you credit when we succeed!

Photo courtesy of Unicef

The Power of Yet

In 2003, I earned my first Department Head position. I was incredibly excited about this leadership opportunity. And if I'm being honest, I was way too impressed with my own title. 

On one of my first days in the building, I rode the elevator from the basement to my office on the third floor. On the first floor, it stopped, and an older gentleman got on. I introduced myself, was quick to share my title, and in response, he shared his name. But he didn't tell me what he did. So, of course, I asked. "A little of this, a little of that," he said. 

When pressed, he told me he was a teacher and mentioned how much he loved it. One of the reasons he loved it so much was that he had yet to figure it all out. Each day was different, he told me, and he looked forward to finding new ways to reach his students. "If I ever wake up and feel like I've figured it all out, I'm going to retire." To this day, I still remember this moment and how passionately Frank Raispis looked at me when he told me that. 

Mr. Frank Raispis was a legend at Saint Ignatius College Prep. He attended Ignatius as a student in 1941 and, after college, returned to his high school alma mater. When he humbly told me that he did "a little of this, a little of that," he was, of course, being humble. Mr. Raispis taught Latin, Greek, and History. He also served as a college counselor, language department chair, assistant principal, and principal. Perhaps most memorably, though, was how he would end pep rallies in the gymnasium by leading the entire school in song. 

A little of this, a little of that. 

All this makes me think about the power of the word "yet," and how none of us have reached the end of our journey of learning. Yes, there are milestones and touchpoints along the way, and still, none of us have it all figured out. I know I thought I did, in that elevator in 2003, and in the kindest and most compassionate way, Frank Raispis taught me that I was not quite there yet. 

I know as a student, I looked up to my teachers. I thought they had it all figured out. After all, there they were at the front of my classrooms, leading my learning. Now, I know better. 

This power of yet is something that we all need, some more explicitly than others. The metacognition that comes with it is a gift to our students. The notion that the path to success is a straight line, runs contrary to everything that we know. Most success comes from hard work, mistakes, dead ends, speed bumps, and moments in which we need to pause. 

Photo courtesy of jenniferabrans.com

As we strive for academic excellence in East Greenwich Public Schools, this must be a part of our message. We are all works in progress. None of us are finished learning. Consider this tweet from Andy Perrin, Social Studies Teacher at our high school: 

It's not about titles, roles, or positions. It's not about what we do, it's about how we do it. It's not the destination, it's the journey. If we are to achieve the vision of a graduate from our high school, one who is knowledgeable, connected, reflective, and skilled, we must admit all those values are limitless. 

A little of this, a little of that. 

Thank you, Mr. Raispis, for the life lesson. 

Who Has the Time?

It's the most precious commodity that I know of. It's finite and consistent. It's equal across all humans, across the continent, globe, and planet. We all get twenty-four hours in a day - no more and no less. What we do with our time is how we impact our own lives and the lives of others. One element is for sure, once time has slipped through our fingers, we simply cannot get it back. 

That was on my mind recently, as I needed to reach out to customer service to return two products we had purchased for our new home. In deference to the companies, I will not name names. However, I will share the screenshots that I sent to My Wife once the calls were completed. 

Two separate calls, both over an hour and a half in length. I will also point out that this was not the first phone call to either company and that a sizeable refund had not yet appeared on our credit card once the returns were received. In both cases, it took me asking to speak to a supervisor in order to get my refund completed. To date, one of the companies still has not made the appropriate refund to our card, even though I was assured it would be taken care of in the next seven to ten business days. 

As I reflected on the two hundred and one minutes I spent trying to track down my refund, I realized what a privilege it is that I was able to do that. I did not have two hundred and one minutes to spare, but I chose to take that time to work through the various voice prompts, two levels of customer service, and two different supervisors to ultimately be told I would finally be getting our refund. I had the time to take the time. I could make the choice to carve out that time. Even as the I watched the minutes tick away on each call, I was able to continue to hold, wait to be transferred, and listen to mediocre muzak. I was able to give up those minutes during my weekend. 

There are many people who do not have that kind of time. They cannot give two hundred and one minutes to customer service. Those minutes have already been spoken for by other priorities in their lives. 

I recognize my privilege. While I wish I did not have to sacrifice those minutes, I was able to do so. I also know there may still be more minutes in my future, to ensure that the refunds are issued. 

The song "Seasons of Love" from the musical Rent asks us how do you measure a year, after calculating that there are 525,600 minutes for each of us, from January 1 to December 31. We all have the same number of minutes, and for some, there is more choice than others in how we spend and use that time. I hope we are able to give our time to those who mean the most to us, and that they cherish that gift. 

Who has the time?

Photo courtesy of www.vocal.media/

Shipping Bolts Matter

The Ricca family has faced a few challenges, transitioning from our life in Vermont, particularly when it comes to our home. Our new home needed a good deal of work, and needless to say, it's not done yet. Fortunately, we live in it, have what we need, and take it one day at a time. 

One of the necessary items for a family of four, including two teenage boys, is a washing machine and a dryer. The former owners had these appliances in the master bathroom, so we also kept them there. Unfortunately, the master bathroom is under construction, so we prioritized the area for these critical appliances. The tile was down, the grout was in place, we waited patiently, and then with the help of a licensed plumber and electrician, the washer and dryer were installed! 

We started the first load of laundry in our new home with great anticipation. Laundry is one of those chores that happens in the background. You put the dirty wash in and go about doing something else until it's time to switch to the dryer. Then when the dryer is done, the real work of laundry begins: the folding! It's mindless enough to do while watching TV, but still, it's the most time-consuming part of the process. 

Fortunately, My Wife had the foresight to teach Our Boys how to do laundry when they both reached double digits, so we allowed our children to have the honor of the first "spin." As we did our work in the house, thunderous noises came from the master bath. Way louder than any washing machine I've ever heard. The machine also moved. A decent amount. However, the fact that it was working, that we had one, and we were doing laundry in our own home really overrode any concerns we might have had. 

Unfortunately, the same thing happened when our second son ran his laundry and when we ran ours. There was something wrong with the washing machine. We were crushed - and I'm not exaggerating. This was one thing we had going for us: laundry in our own home. 

So with great reluctance and steeling myself for more than an hour on hold, I dialed the 800 number on the manual to speak to someone from Samsung. When I finally reached a human being, I described what was happening. The noise, the banging, the movement. As you might surmise, the individual I spoke with did not have English as their first language, so it was sometimes difficult to understand them. 

The Samsung representative asked me to compare how the inside of the washer felt to the inside of the dryer. They were about the same - although the washer should have had some "give" with the drum. When I reported that I could not push the inside of the washer at all, the customer service rep sent me a link with permission to use the camera on my phone to see for themselves what was happening with our machine. I clicked on the link, and within a few seconds, the individual on the telephone had eyes on my washer. 

After some more questions and directions to me, I was asked to move the washer out to get a look at the back of the unit. Fortunately, one of the men working on our house was there and could help me. We pulled the machine out, and I showed the Samsung employee what the back of it looked like. When the individual on the phone first said "shipping bolts," I could not understand them. I asked them to repeat themselves, and I clearly heard those words this time. Directing me through the wonders of internet connectivity, this person asked me to point my phone in each of the four corners of the back of the unit. I found four large, black plastic covers that, after taking off the cover, and unscrewing the six-inch screws, allowed me to return to the front of the washer, push on the drum, and feel some give!

Shipping bolts are precautions that manufacturers put in place to ensure that the drum of the washing machine does not move at all during the shipping process. They are to be removed once the unit has been put in its final location and before any water lines or electricity is connected. Looking back on the manual, it did direct me to do that right there in Step 2. 

I'm a directions guy. I was that teacher. Early in my career, I gave the dreaded "Directions Test." You know, the one where I tell my students to read the directions carefully. The directions say something like, "Only answer Number 10!" That mistake was one of many that I made as a baby teacher...

There I stood, admiring a quiet, humming washing machine that didn't dance across my floor. It's the small things in life you have to take stock of and be grateful for. 

Like reading directions. And shipping bolts. Or the lack thereof. 

Photo courtesy of www.evolytics.com

 

On Being Curious

Our family has been a big fan of the Apple TV+ series Ted Lasso, and we are excitedly awaiting the third season. I highly recommend it based on the many positive themes around perseverance, teamwork, and relationships. It also has a theme that I hope will define my work in East Greenwich as I begin my tenure as Superintendent of Schools. 

"Be curious, not judgemental." (Walt Whitman)

The title character, Ted Lasso, is playing darts in a British pub with one of the least-liked characters in the show, and Lasso is down to his last turn. Facing almost certain defeat, he needs a nearly impossible score with each of his remaining darts. And during his final round, Ted shares this beautiful memory from his life: 

So what does Ted Lasso have to do with the beginning of my work in East Greenwich? As I learn and grow into this role, I commit to being curious, not judgmental. The only exception I would make is if there was a threat of harm to a student or employee. Other than that, I will approach this work with a humble curiosity, two listening ears, and a genuine desire to learn and grow with all of you. 

I ask the same of all of you. Please commit to learning with me this year, whether you are faculty or staff, parent or community member, School Committee, or Town Council. When students ask what a superintendent does, I tell them my job is to ensure that each of them feels safe, welcomed, and included when they come to school. My job for the employees is to ensure they have what they need to be their best professional selves. For the School Committee, my work is to further the Strategic Plan, live the mission, and help all students achieve the vision of a graduate. 

I hope you will all join me in this commitment as we learn about each other and grow in our service to the students, faculty, staff, and families of East Greenwich!

As seen in Hanaford School

In Gratitude

For the past four years, I've had the privilege of serving as the Superintendent of Schools for the St. Johnsbury School District. While at times the role feels isolating, and it is, any superintendent will tell you, that it is a complete team effort. No superintendent is successful without a tremendous supporting cast - and I've got one of the best. 

In my graduation remarks on Friday night to the 8th Grade Class of 2022, I shared something that I have paraphrased from Aaron Sorkin, a playwright and screenwriter responsible for one of my favorite TV shows of all time, "The West Wing." I like bands more than I like solo acts. I like team sports more than I like individual ones. I like teams. When you're successful on a team, there are people to celebrate with along the way. It's a little bit easier when you're struggling on a team because there are others with you to share in that struggle. 

I am so proud of what we have done in the past four years, particularly the past two. And I am grateful. 

To the Board of School Directors: Thank you for being financial stewards, mindful of the line between operational work and Board work, and for always being student-centered, first and foremost. 

To our Teachers: Thank you for your love, professionalism, and commitment to growth for every single child that comes into our building. 

To our Paraeducators: Thank you for your love, support, and dedication to all of our students. 

To our Support Staff: Thank you for ensuring our organization runs smoothly, is welcoming, and feels like home. 

To our Food Service Personnel: Thank you for your commitment to nutrition, endless smiles, and creativity on our trays. 

To our Facilities Staff: Thank you for a building that is not only clean but also well maintained and cared for, with an eye toward the future. 

To our Leadership Team: Thank you for seeing the big picture, your willingness to have the hard conversations, and your courage to lead. 

To the St. Johnsbury Community: Thank you for supporting our work through positive budget and bond votes over these past four years.  

I know I have grown so much while serving this wonderful community. I hope you feel the same way!

One of My Pet Peeves

As an educator for more than twenty-five years, there are plenty of things that people say to degrade the work of those of us who have chosen this profession. To be clear, I include every single person in a school district as an educator, from the Board members to facilities and administrative staff. In addition, of course, are the paraeducators and the teachers. 

One of the things that people say that bothers me the most is this: 

What are the top three reasons to be an educator? June, July, and August. 

First of all, let's be clear about something. There is only one month in the entire year with no students attending school, and that's July. We have students until June 15 this year, and our students will return before the end of August. 

Secondly, educators often take classes over the summer to improve their practices. We know for a fact that the one thing that improves student outcomes more than any other factor is teacher instruction. Some educators have other jobs over the summer. Some choose to continue to work in the building, or at home, long beyond their contracted days. 

Finally, if those examples were not true, I wish every single educator could take this summer fully off to rest and recharge from this year. Honestly, this year was more complicated than any other year we've experienced since March of 2020. There was so much hope for this year - and it was dashed by the omicron surge and a long hard winter. More recently, there was the omicron variant, along with substantial staff and student absences throughout the year. 

The staff absences pose a unique challenge of putting the right people in the right places. Our Co-Principals spent more time than they care to admit ensuring that our students could be safely supervised. They did a phenomenal job, as we only had one day where we closed due to staffing. The student absences are a bit more complicated. 

Imagine in a class of twenty, half of the class is absent on a given day. What do you do? Do you move ahead with your plans and prepare to catch up the other ten? Or do you wait for the ten that are absent to come back to class and teach the entire group at once? What if there were ten missing the following day again, but it was a different group of ten? Can you sense this math problem spiraling a little bit? 

There is no easy answer to any of this. And still, our educators showed up. Every. Single Day. We had Board members volunteering to be substitute teachers. We had paraeducators who did not have a consistent assignment for weeks at a time. We had Facilities personnel working in the Kitchen, and we had administrative staff juggling several desks at a time. 

So can we please agree that the top three reasons to be an educator are: the students, the students, and the students? Because there is not a school building in this entire state (nor our country) that doesn't reflect the love, devotion, and commitment to children more than we saw this year. 

The How is More Important Than The Why

There have been twenty-seven school shootings so far this year. That's not a typo. According to NPR, there have been twenty-seven school shootings. We will end 2022 with almost sixty-five school shootings if this keeps up. 

If that does not make your jaw drop, guns surpassed car accidents as the Number 1 cause of death in children in 2020. This information came in a research letter in the New England Journal of Medicine. That number increased thirty percent between 2019 and 2020. 

Finally, if that statistic does not stagger you, consider this: at least thirty-seven children have been killed in school shootings so far in 2022. Thus far, in 2022, twenty police officers have been shot and killed in the line of duty. Right now, in the United States of America, our children, legally compelled to attend school, are not safe. (Sources: https://www.edweek.org/leadership/school-shootings-this-year-how-many-and-where/2022/01; https://www.odmp.org/search/year?year=2022)

According to Vox, the U.S. not only has more guns than other countries; but we also have more gun violence. 

In the wake of this most recent shooting, we have heard calls for more focus on mental health. We can do that. We can put more resources toward mental health supports to identify and reduce isolation. That is perfectly reasonable. As long as those mental health dollars are there for those services. In the days after this tragedy, Governor Greg Abbott asserted that Texas needed to "do a better job with mental health." That is the same Governor Abbott who, in April, withdrew $211 million from the department's budget that oversees mental health, according to NBC news. 

We have also heard leaders ask to further harden schools and arm teachers. Perhaps we can consider the former. The latter suggestion is utter nonsense. 

The individual in Uvalde, Texas, who committed this unspeakable crime, was armed with two AR-15 rifles and more than 1000 rounds of ammunition. For context, according to CBS, a United States soldier would take 210 rounds into combat. 

We have too many assault-style guns available in the United States. Period. Individuals who cannot legally drink, buy Sudafed, or rent a car can access weapons designed to do one thing and one thing only: kill people quickly. And sadly, they are doing just that. 

Other countries have shown us that changes can be made. Both Scotland and New Zealand responded swiftly to senseless school shootings with legislation. Neither country has seen a repeat of that day since. 

If these weapons were not as easily accessible as they are, we would not be having this problem. That is a fact supported by the data above. We can talk all we want about better mental health services. But until we do something about the ease of putting deadly weapons in the hands of people who are not trained to use them, who intend to simply kill others, we will continue to allow our children to die for their right to bear arms. 

The how is more important than the why. 

What is the Greater Good?

One of my all-time favorite musicals is Les Miserables. I first saw it in high school, again with my family when I was in college, and for a third time when I was dating my then-girlfriend, now-wife. I regularly have the soundtrack on while cooking, much to my family's chagrin.   

It is an adaptation of Victor Hugo's 1862 novel of the same name, with the protagonist Jean Valjean. Set in early 19th century France, Valjean is a peasant seeking redemption after being imprisoned for nineteen years for stealing bread to feed his sister's child. Shortly after his release from prison to parole, he is welcomed by a bishop into his home. Overwhelmed by the bishop's kindness, Valjean steals silverware from him but is caught by the police. 

When the police bring Valjean to the bishop with their suspicions, the bishop continues to show kindness to Valjean: 

But my friend, you left so early
Surely something slipped your mind
You forgot I gave these also
Would you leave the best behind?
So Monsieurs, you may release him
For this man has spoken true
I commend you for your duty
May God's blessings go with you. 

In essence, the bishop lied to protect Valjean. He knew Valjean's story, and he knew how much Valjean was struggling with the weight of his release to parole. The bishop knew it was wrong for Valjean to steal his silverware, but he also knew no good would come from Valjean going back to jail. 

The entire musical hinges on this moment. If the bishop tells the truth, the story ends there. Valjean goes back to jail and does not find his redemption. However, the bishop sees the greater good and gives Valjean a second chance. 

Often as educators, we are faced with similar dilemmas. When we know the stories of our students, our worlds become less black and white and more gray. I've told the story of how I came down so hard on one of my students in my first years of teaching. He had not completed his homework, and I really laid into him in front of the entire class. When I finally took the time to ask why he did not do his homework, he told me that his brother had run away from home the night before. That was one of many moments I wished I had back as a teacher. 

There are policies, procedures, and rules, and they exist for a reason. We need them for our schools and our districts to be places of predictability and safety. There are clear lines that we cannot cross. There are clear lines that our students cannot cross. Those must remain. 

Still, there are plenty of other places in our educational world where those lines are not so clear. Educators have a great deal of latitude when it comes to our students, what they do, where they go, and when they do it. And these past two years have been traumatic for both students and educators alike. We are all in need of grace and patience. Every human has been through heightened levels of stress, expectations, and anxiety. It weighs on all of us. 

Since that is our reality, let us continue to show kindness to each other and our students. I would offer that there is no one anywhere in our lives that cannot benefit from more grace and patience. We can emulate the bishop in Les Miserables. 

Let that be the greater good. 

Photo courtesy of www.fromthecarriagehouse.com