We Can't Always Get What We Want

On October 10, the School Construction Committee heard the news we hoped would not come: the Master Plan work was estimated to be more than the $150 million approved a year ago. This is the work that will breathe new life into public education in East Greenwich Public Schools. It is long overdue as professionals work in closets, on stages, and in places that are simply not conducive to education. 

Unfortunately, the financial situation is not unlike what happens when work is being planned for our own homes. The first price rarely ends up being the final price. We are in a similar situation as we consider the next steps in the Master Plan. 

The good news is that everyone is preparing to compromise and work toward a solution. As EG News reported, the town is considering several options to bridge the gap. All the work outlined in the Stage II submitted to RIDE needs to be done. No one is saying that any building is more important than any other building. We need professional spaces in the elementary schools. We need a high school we can be proud of, and that has a functioning heating, ventilation, and air conditioning system (HVAC).  

It's not either/or. It's all. All of the work needs to be done. 

So, we will all need to compromise. We will all need to manage expectations. We will all need to keep our eyes on the prize: $150 million to improve our aging school buildings, which this community will only have to repay $82.5 million. The State of Rhode Island put aside $2.2 billion in state aid for school construction. Contrast that with the state of Vermont, which also has critical needs when it comes to infrastructure in public education. There is currently no state aid in Vermont. If a school system wishes to upgrade its public schools, the individual towns are on the hook for the entire amount. 

Do I wish there was more money? I do. So does everyone. Our Town Manager, Andrew Nota, led off our Spring Forums in 2023 at Cole Middle School, stating the same thing. We all wish there could be improvements to all our buildings, encompassing everything we need. That's not the case. 

Community members voted in favor of the bond because of the work outlined in Stage II for the high school. Community members voted in favor of the bond because of the work outlined in Stage II for the elementary schools. Community members voted in favor of the bond. 

To modify a quote from one of my favorite baseball movies, Field of Dreams: If we build it, they will come, and more will stay. 

Hate Has No Place Here

This was not the post I was planning to write. I was planning to write about our Master Plan and how we will all compromise to ensure we can move forward with our $150 million bond approval in EG. Then I got a text message from Dr. Patricia Page letting me know that hate speech was written on the tennis courts at the high school. 

When I heard that word, I was transported back to elementary school. Growing up just north of New York City, I attended one of the first "integrated" schools, where students were bussed in. Of course, I didn't know any of that at that time. I just knew I went to school. It didn't matter that others didn't all look like me. Pennington-Grimes was the school I attended from Kindergarten through 6th grade. We had neighborhood students and others from different parts of Mt. Vernon. It didn't matter - they were my classmates, I didn't care how they looked. I didn't know any better. 

I heard it at school and repeated it at home, much to my mother's despair. I was told in no uncertain terms that this was a word that represented hate. It was clear I could never use that word. 

I don't use that word. Not in jest. Not in song. Not ever. 

If we are to truly embrace the notion that All Means All in East Greenwich Public Schools, we cannot ever use that word. Period. Full Stop.  

Short. Sweet. To the point: Hate has no place here. 

Barking at The Diamond Dogs

This summer, our family started rewatching Ted Lasso. There is something about the humanity of this show. The entire series thus far (I hope there will be a fourth season) is about a team and what it takes to be a part of a team. They're not perfect, and there's plenty of division, but there is innate goodness in all the characters. Take four minutes and forty-two seconds and watch one of my favorite scenes, courtesy of YouTube. Then, try to remember to be curious, not judgmental. 

One of the elements I find so endearing is the group "The Diamond Dogs." The Diamond Dogs were formed when Ted Lasso, a fish out of water in London, coaching a soccer team with absolutely no soccer experience, realized he needed help. While he brought an assistant coach with him, so many things are getting lost in translation (literally), and he's navigating a long-distance relationship with his wife and son. The collective values exhibited by the Diamond Dogs (a group of men) are collaboration, support, and growth, shown by empathy, compassion, and honesty with each other. 

I was struck by this group rewatching it because, honestly, it's rare to see men being this candid and vulnerable with each other. Part of the research in my dissertation was around the ethic of care that gets scrutinized when men are involved. I was a first-grade teacher, and a stigma went with it. It's the same stigma male nurses receive (as made fun of in the movie Meet the Parents). When there is an ethic of care, while it's seemingly OK for men to demonstrate that in their own homes, there is, at the very least, an ambivalence about it when in professional realms. 

That's why The Diamond Dogs resonated with me, but it's also what makes the concept so wonderful. The men offer their own expertise and advice to each other. They can face challenges together, creating a sense of camaraderie and togetherness. They discuss various strategies for winning and allow each other into their personal lives with vulnerability and candor. 

We know that mental health is just as important as physical health. If someone shared during a meeting that they had a headache, we would all offer whatever over-the-counter medication we had to help that individual feel better. We struggle to talk about the more complicated parts of mental health: feeling alone, overwhelmed, depressed. That's not so easy to talk about at parties. 

We know how important it is in EGPS that we dedicated our professional development time to mental health for our adults this year. We dedicated resources for all the adults in our district, including those in Central Office, to have the opportunity to learn and grow themselves to be able to better serve our students. We do this because we know our students are still struggling with the ripple effects of the pandemic. We have to be our best selves professionally to serve our students. There's a reason why, when flying, we're told to put on our oxygen masks first before helping others...

A life lesson from Ted Lasso. 

The EGPS Vision of a Graduate

Lately, I've been involved in a lot of discussions about test scores, the colleges our EGPS graduates have attended, and points earned on Advanced Placement exams. It hasn't sat well with me, primarily because of the quote attributed to President Theodore Roosevelt: "Comparison is the thief of joy." All week, I've been trying to ground myself in something deeper for our students and this community, and I realized it was right in front of me: The Vision of a Graduate. 

It was developed before I began serving as Superintendent of Schools, and it is the roadmap for what we expect of our graduates. There are four components: 

• Knowledgeable: Students learn factual, conceptual, and content-based understandings across a variety of academic disciplines. Through "knowledge" our graduates have the ability to transfer content knowledge to a variety of familiar and unfamiliar environments, situations, challenges, and an evolving sense of self and others, within a local and global context. 
  
  
  
  
  
• Connected: Students understand and value connecting with a diversity of people, environments, and perspectives. Through "connections" our graduates embrace the capacity of their individual and collective purpose and action to fully leverage their impact on the interconnected workings of life and the world. 
  
  
  
  
  
• Reflective: Students routinely think about their knowledge, skills, emotions, connections to others, and personal histories and apply their insights to future situations, endeavors, and learning. Through "reflection" our graduates use an evolving understanding of who they are, what they are capable of, how they can positively impact and fit into the lives of others - ultimately taking control of and responsibility for satisfying intrinsic motivations to make a difference with their lives. 
  
  
  
  
  
• Skilled: Students demonstrate diverse skill sets enabling them to communicate effectively, solve problems creatively, think critically, and collaborate meaningfully with others. Through "competency" our graduates have the skills and dispositions necessary to harness and use knowledge of a variety of disciplines, of others and of themselves, to pursue current and future goals in order to find their place in the world. 
  
  
  

There is no mention of test scores, although the EGPS vision includes being able to take knowledge from one conceptual base to another. The expectation is that our graduates will use their skills across a variety of disciplines to "find their place in the world." 

There is no mention of the specific colleges our graduates will go to or that they go to a college at all. This vision does speak to building connections, not specifically where, so that their impact on this world is shaped by their "individual purpose." 

There is no mention of Advanced Placement exams, though some of the analysis and problem-solving necessary for demonstrating success on an AP exam are named. The purpose of those are specifically to ensure that our graduates find their place in this world. 

The reflection I did to return to the Vision of the Graduate is an effort to help our graduates find "intrinsic motivations to make a difference with their lives." 

I live in the real world, and I understand that we must continue to assess our students meaningfully and authentically, so that they have the opportunity to demonstrate their abilities for whatever their next step after EGHS will be. Perhaps it is a four-year college. Perhaps it is a two-year college. Perhaps it is military service. Perhaps it is a job. 

I am turning fifty this week, and one of the realities that I work hard to articulate for my own children, one of whom is a junior and serious about going to college, is that we can't always put a number on what is important. It took me three tries to break 1000 on the SAT in the late 80s and early 90s. I was told I would not get into the college of my choice because of those scores. My mother still has all of my report cards in a shoe box in the attic of the home I grew up in. 

I have lived for a half-century. I am in love with My Wife, of more than twenty years. I have two children I am proud of. I have friends that I could call and they would come at the drop of a hat. I have a job that doesn't feel like work, surrounded by people who share the same educational values that I do. 

I want EGPS students to be knowledgeable, connected, reflective, and skilled. And I want them to be happy, to find love, have good friends, and do meaningful work in the world. 

You can't put a number on that. 

Because of Unified Sports

I had the privilege and honor of watching a Unified Volleyball game at East Greenwich High School last week. What a gift that time was. Unified Sports brings out the best that humanity has to offer. 

Students eligible for special education play with typically developing peers (partners) on the same court. There are officials, scores are tallied, and in the case of volleyball, they rotate with the same regularity as you saw in the Summer Olympics in Paris. The differences are subtle but meaningful. 

• Unified athletes can serve from anywhere on the court. Partners have to serve behind the service line. 
  
  
• Unified athletes are given the benefit of a do-over. Partners are not afforded that same grace. 
  
  
• Unified athletes (perhaps) get a little more coaching than their partners. What I noticed, though, was that our coaches ensured that when our partners were serving, they were "aiming" for the partners on the other side of the net!

The stands at EGHS were packed that evening, and those in attendance cheered for both the EGHS athletes and the Exeter-West Greenwich athletes. The loudest and most raucous sounds came from the volleys that went back and forth several times. It didn't matter who got the point, as everyone recognized the significance of the focus and concentration this took for all the athletes. 

Our EGHS partner students called out the names of their unified peers when setting them for a winning shot. The celebrations when a unified athlete scored were loud and included the student's name. For both EGHS and E-WG, truly, that day, everyone was a winner. 

When I was interviewing for this position two and a half years ago, there was a student panel at the high school. For the first time in my career, one of the students in the room had a visible disability. Perhaps others had an invisible one, but in all my years of interviews with students, I had never encountered an interview panel like the one here in EG. It was my first concrete example that here, "All Means All." 

I was reminded recently that the word "educate" comes from the Latin root word "educere," which means to lead out. A real element of education is to ensure that our students feel safe, welcomed, and included when they come to school so they can learn to their fullest potential. Learning to one's fullest potential means making mistakes along the way. If our buildings are not safe places for mistakes, we will never draw out the unique strengths and potentials of our district's more than 2400 students. 

Our Unified Sports are not about perfection. They're not about keeping score. They're certainly not about winning. They're about the greatness in each one of us. Honoring that greatness and getting better a little bit at a time. 

A life lesson I was reminded of last Tuesday in the gym at 300 Avenger Drive. With thanks to Patty Carrosoto, the EGHS Unified Volleyball Team, and their counterparts from Exeter-West Greenwich. It was a special evening.  

Unified Athletics is a glimpse of the best we can be. 

Like Riding a Bike

I listened to the late Sir Ken Robinson's TED Talk about education more than ten years ago. Sadly, it wasn't in person, but it was stunning nonetheless. He discussed the factory model in education, which we still have to this day. Here's a clip of the most salient points (less than one minute long). If you want the entire talk, click here (it is almost twelve minutes long but well worth it). Thank you to YouTube for both of those clips. 

For some reason, that was in my head when I saw this tweet earlier this month from Brad Johnson (@DrBradJohnson): 

Dr. Johnson and Sir Ken Robinson are on to something here regarding the reality of education. It's not about churning out results like a factory. It's about creating a safe, welcoming, and inclusive place where all students can grow and learn to their potential, making mistakes along the way. It's not about output. It's about input. 

The goal is growth and mastery, not just good grades. We want our students to be better this year than they were last year and to grow even more next year. We want them to make mistakes, learn from them, and not make the same mistake twice. Consider the following examples: 

• How many people learned to ride a bike the first time training wheels were taken off? I would offer that some did, but most of us didn't. I distinctly remember my dad running behind me on a dead-end street in the neighborhood where I grew up many, many times. It wasn't until I learned how to master the balance, pedaling, braking, and turning that I didn't need his support. There were plenty of falls, skinned knees, and hands in the process. To this day, I still know how to ride a bike. 
  
  
• How many people didn't pass their driver's license road test the first time? I passed my first time, but it took me (and my parents) a long time to even think I was ready to sit for this high-stakes, real-world assessment. A couple of my friends did not pass the first time but got specific feedback about the skills they needed to hone before returning to test again. Even if it took more than one try, those friends passed and still have their licenses. 
  
  
• Final example: What happens if you don't pay your federal taxes by April 15? Do the feds give you a zero and wait around to see what you do next year? No - you pay a fine and get a six-month extension. In one of the most basic tenets of our society, extensions are given when deadlines are missed. 

The education process is complex, nuanced, and full of grey areas. It's not like a factory where one size fits all, and we can predict the outcomes simply because of the assembly line our students are on. The educators in East Greenwich Public Schools are constantly tinkering, adjusting, fine-tuning, tweaking, and pruning the lessons our students engage in daily. Planning, delivering, assessing, and then reviewing a topic in a classroom is a professional commitment to the variety of learners and learning styles in our six buildings. 

Do we get it right every time? Nope. Do our students get it right every time? Nope. But we start over again, learning from that day's teachable moments, promising not to make that same mistake again. Both students and teachers. 

Just like riding a bike. 

Did I Stutter?

Still, I can almost smell the movie popcorn, drenched in that fake, goopy, non-butter butter. That day in 1983 when my dad took my brother and me to see Return of the Jedi in the movie theater. For a long time, I still had the stub from the ticket. Remember when there were actual tickets to gain entry to events?

The drumbeat. The blare of the trumpets. The 20th Century Fox Fanfare. Then a pause... Then, the words Star Wars, followed by the crawl that brought you up to speed as to the details of the movie you were about to see. It was thrilling. 

Within that movie's first two minutes, we meet Darth Vader. First, we only see boots, and as the camera pans up, clad in all black, we fully take in one of the villains of this movie. Before we even hear his voice, the sound of the breathing apparatus fills the silent void. But then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, "You may dispense with the pleasantries, Commander. I am here to put you back on schedule," boomed from the helmeted figure. Voiced, of course, by the late James Earl Jones. 

Mr. Jones was in so many movies that I loved. Of course, the original Star Wars trilogy. I once proudly owned all three (Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi) as a boxed set of VHS tapes. Many a college evening was spent crowded in a dorm room, rewatching them while surrounded by friends. I also loved The Sandlot, The Lion King, any of the Thomas Clancy books-turned movies, The Hunt for Red October, Clear and Present Danger, and Patriot Games. Who could forget his role in Field of Dreams? Mr. Jones was clearly a gifted and talented actor both on stage and in front of a camera. 

In reading about his life recently, I came across a few things about him I never knew: Mr. Jones was abandoned by his parents when he was quite young and sent to live with, and these are his words, "a very racist grandmother." The rejection by his mother and father and the reality of his grandmother's racism resulted in substantial emotional distress for Mr. Jones, which led him, as a child, to stammer and then ultimately to stutter.  By the age of 8, he stopped talking altogether, passing notes in school to communicate. 

It wasn't until high school that a teacher, Donald Crouch, made a connection with Mr. Jones. Mr. Crouch recognized that Mr. Jones had a talent for poetry and encouraged him to write. Then, with Mr. Crouch's encouragement, Mr. Jones stood before his class and tentatively read some of the lines he wrote. Eventually, Mr. Jones grew to recite poetry daily, joined the debate team, and no longer stuttered. While the effects of this disability never entirely went away, Mr. Jones credits learning to control his stutter leading to his career as an actor: 

"In a very personal way, once I found out I could communicate verbally again, it became a very important thing for me, like making up for lost time, making up for the years that I didn't speak." 

All because of a teacher who made a connection, who saw something in Mr. Jones, and together, they discovered what was inside a child who did not speak. 

I wrote about the magic of teaching in this blog just a few weeks ago. This is what I'm talking about. As we reflect on the teachers in our own lives who made this kind of difference, I'm certain that we can all name them—not because of what they taught but because of how they made us feel. 

For me, one of those teachers was Professor Robert Garvey, now retired from the College of the Holy Cross. In the fall of 1992, he convinced a very homesick and very overwhelmed first-year student that he could indeed do the work that was expected of him. To this day, I remember the words he spoke to me: "In my experience, the admission officers here rarely, if ever, make mistakes in terms of students' abilities to do the work." At the time, I wasn't believing in myself. But those words made a difference and inspired me, and because of that, Holy Cross remains one of my absolute favorite places in all the world. On Mt. St. James, I made lifelong friends, grew passionate about issues of social justice, and made a decision that led me to meet My Wife when I chose to volunteer after graduation. 

All because of a teacher who made a connection, who saw something in me. 

Who will that teacher be for the more than 2400 students that come through our doors daily? I cannot say for certain. I do know that when I walk the hallways of our buildings, and when I visit the classrooms and the spaces where teaching and learning happens in East Greenwich Public Schools, I see this magic happening. 

All because of teachers who make connections, who see something in their students.