There's An App for That

I ran track in high school. I played other sports as well, but track was my most consistent. I competed at the varsity level running middle distances, the two-mile, and the one-mile relay. I trained with my team and practiced every day. I even still remember my best times: 2:09 for my 800 in the two-mile relay and 54 seconds for my 400 in the mile relay. Needless to say, that was many, many years ago.

This past summer, I wanted to get back to running. So one beautiful morning, I grabbed my phone to listen to some music, put on my sneakers, and went out for a run. It was still cool, the sun was just rising, and I was excited to get back into a healthy routine.

I barely made it around the block. I was only slightly out of shape, seeing as the last time I ran regularly was twenty-seven years ago when I was in high school.

So what was I to do? I scoured the internet for training programs and came upon this app that seemed appropriate: Couch to 5K, by Zen Labs. It had great reviews, and it was free. I downloaded the app and went back out - expecting to run. Instead, I did a lot of walking. I did very little running. It was quite humbling.

For the first several weeks, I was doing more walking than I did running. Near the middle of the training regimen, it seemed as though it was close to equal parts walking and running. Then as I got past the halfway point, it started to get hard. I was doing more and more running, with less and less walking. My legs were being trained to get back into shape - slowly but surely, I was putting more and more miles back into my body, and my body was responding.

I "graduated" from Couch to 5K and have been running 5Ks on my own since the early part of the school year. My goal is to run three 5Ks each week, to keep putting the miles on and to stay in shape as I get older. This past Tuesday, for the first time ever, I ran a 5K in less than 30 minutes! I was really proud of my accomplishment.

My return to running made me think about personalized learning, one of the newer commitments we have with our students. This experience was one I created for myself, and I sought out the assistance I needed. It wasn't a linear process; there were stops and starts. There were stages in the training that I had to repeat because they were too hard, and I couldn't complete them the first time. I was successful because I followed my own path to return to running. If we reached out to all the people I ran track with in high school, I doubt their return to running would look exactly like mine.

This is the same for our students. There is no single path toward unlocking their potential. As superintendent, my primary role for our students is to ensure their school is a place that is self, welcoming, and inclusive for each of them, exactly the way they are. While they are here, the adults build meaningful relationships with them to get to know what makes them tick. In that way, the adults can make suggestions and teach in a way commensurate with each student's needs.

As our students grow and learn more and more about themselves, we will turn to them for more insight into how they learn best. We will want to know what they are passionate about, what excites them about their own education, and how can they demonstrate what they've learned in a way that is authentic to them. Their education is partly their responsibility, and we will need them and their families to partner with us to be successful.

Who knows? There someday may even be an app for that.

Photo courtesy of www.picturequotes.com 

A Safe Learning Space

I have always been fascinated by flight. I took my first trip on an airplane when I was five years old, New York to Chicago. That was back when you were allowed, in fact, encouraged to visit the cockpit during the flight. I remember standing behind the pilots looking out at the beautiful blue sky and enjoying a sense of awe and wonder.

The professional pilot's life, for me, was not something that I was prepared to commit to and so I've enjoyed aviation as a hobby. When our children were little, we would go to the Burlington Airport and plane spot regularly. I listen to the air traffic controllers for the Burlington Airport often and enjoy seeing the inbound planes to the BTV gliding toward runway 33 during their final approach outside our home.

My Family has supported this love of aviation, and this past Father's Day, I was treated to a flight lesson. I have almost 15 hours of flight time in a single-engine Cessna, and while I have no immediate intention of earning my private pilot's license, I still plan to build up hours of practice, because I love it!

From the pre-flight checklist with the instructor outside the plane to strapping into the left-hand seat, to pushing the throttle in just enough to taxi off the ramp, and out the runway, my pulse was quickening, and I could feel the anticipation building.  We were lined up on runway 33, and with no other traffic, we were cleared for take-off. Now a take-off run for a single-engine Cessna is nothing compared to even some of the smaller commercial jets that flight into Burlington. We were up in no time.

The sense of awe and wonder returned, with Lake Champlain ahead of us and the beautiful green landscape of Vermont below. The instructor allowed me to focus on flying and handled all the communication with air traffic control. However, I still listened. A couple of times, I thought I heard the air traffic controller state the wrong runway, and then corrected himself. When I pointed that out to the instructor, he told me something that made me really proud.

Since the Burlington Airport is rated as Class C (not high-density traffic operations), it is often a place that new air traffic controllers are sent to learn tower operations. The airport is not very busy, except first thing in the morning, when every single gate has a plane that has spent the night. Given these circumstances, it's a good airport for novice controllers to learn and hone their skills. They do so with a veteran controller next to them to ensure no big mistakes are made, to talk through decisions, to answer questions, and to share feedback.

That is exactly what I was doing at that very moment. I had an instructor pilot to my right. He helped me make sure I didn't make any big mistakes. I talked through many of my flight decisions with him that day. He answered all of my questions and I got important feedback both during and at the end of my flight.

Everyone has to learn somewhere. It is incredibly rare to be in a situation professionally or personally in which we do not need the help of someone else. Someone who has more knowledge, training, and or experience than we do. Everyone needs to have a place where they can take uncertain first steps, stumble, or even fall without causing forward progress to stop entirely.

A pilot with less than 20 hours of experience flew over the skies of Burlington Vermont on Saturday, June 22, with guidance from a novice air traffic controller. The flight was a complete success from pre-flight clearance to takeoff to touchdown to taxiing back to the ramp. I got another hour in my logbook and improved some skills along the way. My guess is so did the air traffic controller.

We're both very grateful for the Class C learning space at the BTV.

My flight on Saturday, June 22, 2019
Image courtesy of www.flightaware.com

It is a Small World, After All

Do you remember what you were doing in the summer of 1993? I don't can't tell you a lot of specifics from that summer but what I do know is that I learned to water ski. In Vermont. On a pond. Let me back up a little.

In the fall of 1992, I was a first-year student at the College of the Holy Cross. This was pre-cell phone, pre-internet, and pre-voicemail. Yes, it must seem like the stone age for the digital natives. Our evenings consisted of studying (at least a little), watching Letterman or Leno, and playing cards. That year I learned how to play pitch, from a sophomore on my hall. Since we played almost every night, we got to be friends.

As the spring semester was ending, he invited a bunch of us to his cabin in Vermont for a long weekend. Again, this was pre-internet, so we actually wrote down the directions. I grew up in Mt. Vernon, NY, a little north of New York City, so several of us carpooled up together.

It was a great weekend - I learned how to water ski. Having never done it before, it took me more than a few tries, but I got it. By the end of the weekend, I was dropping one ski once I got going. I remember thinking this was such a beautiful place in Vermont, and when we left, I didn't think I would ever see it again.

Fast forward to the early 2000s. I am on Peacham Pond with my then-girlfriend, now-wife's family. My Wife's family has had a camp on Peacham Pond since 1987. We were playing pitch at her kitchen table, and the conversation was about the other families that had camps on the pond. In passing, I heard the last name Davignon mentioned, and while it didn't register with me at first, I paused for a moment.

"Did you say 'Davignon'?" I asked. Yes, was the response I got.

"Did that family have any children?" Again, the answer was yes.

"Did any of their kids go to Holy Cross?" Maybe, was the response this time.

"I went to school with a Kris Davignon..." and I trailed off remembering what I had done in the summer of 1993. Someone in the room said, "I do think Kris was one of their sons."

I got really excited as I retold the story of how I learned to water ski. In Vermont. On a pond.

When we build relationships with others, we have no idea where those relationships will take us. I've not spoken to Kris Davignon since he graduated in 1995.  Yet in 1999, I met a woman from Vermont teaching next door to me in a volunteer program in Chicago. On October 8, 2000, I went out on the last first date of my life.

In education, we build relationships with our students, their families, and our colleagues. Those relationships are dotted with moments, most of which we are very proud of. We make mistakes, we correct them, we move on, and we hope to not repeat the same mistakes. The big difference in education is that our students must come to school, and we cannot begin to tap into each student's full potential unless they feel safe, welcome, and included. 

We don't know where those relationships will lead, or when we will see our students again after they leave us. Every year teachers say goodbye to one class in June, and welcome another class back in August. We hope that we make an indelible mark on their hearts so that they can open their minds to learn together with us.

In 1993, I learned how to water ski. In Vermont. On Peacham Pond. And little did I know, my future wife probably saw me.

It is a small world, after all.

Our oldest son Patrick Sup Boarding on Peacham Pond, Labor Day 2019

Our youngest son Brendan jumping into Peacham Pond, Labor Day 2019

On Your Left

I will admit, I was late to the Avengers movie scene. I was not really into comic books growing up. Don't worry, I knew and loved the basics: Superman, Batman, and Spiderman. But the rest of them passed me by.

Fortunately, I am the Dad to two young boys who are very much into the series, and I have seen some of the movies, including the most recent Avengers End Game. As virtually a newcomer to the series, I spent the better part of the movie wondering how the "good guys" were going to beat Thanos and the "bad guys." This became less and less clear to me as the movie went on. It seemed as if there was no way for the Avengers to win.

(*Spoiler Alert - if you haven't seen the movie, and care about it, please stop reading*)

Near the end of the movie, and during one of the epic battle scenes, there is a break in the action while all our heroes and villains are catching their breath. Captain America is front and center, and we hear a radio crackle, and a muffled voice says:

"Cap, you listen to me?
Cap, it's Sam. Can you hear me?"

At that point, Captain America puts his hand up to his head, to try to hear better what is being said through the radio in his ear.

"On your left."

This was a call back to an earlier movie, The Winter Soldier. In the opening scene of that movie, Sam Wilson (later Falcon) is running and is passed three times by Steve Rogers (Captain America) during the run. Each time, Steve says, "On your left" while he passes him.

At that point in End Game, all the Avengers, literally, all of them began to arrive to help Captain America and our heroes defeat Thanos. It took every single one of them, and they did it together. We are all better together. And I will admit, I loved this movie!

Sometimes in education, we fall into the trap of closing our classroom or office doors, and essentially going at it by ourselves. Teaching and leadership can be very lonely places. We may be faced with challenges that seem to be ours and ours alone, and if we choose to address those problems alone, we may not be as successful.

With a focus of Visible Teaching and Learning for All, we are taking steps in St. Johnsbury to make our instruction more intentional, more accessible, more available to all students. We want to share our successes and learn from our missteps. We want all our Faculty & Staff to make our building a place that is safe, welcome, and inclusive for all our students and their families. We will do it together.

St. Johnsbury Faculty & Staff, you hear me?
St. Johnsbury Faculty & Staff, it's Dr. Ricca. Can you hear me?

On your left.

Photo courtesy of www.uniqueteachingresources.com

I Like My Chicken Fried

Yes, you read that correctly. I like my chicken fried. Not fried chicken. Let me explain why. 

While vacationing this summer in West Falmouth, MA, my family and I went to a Cape Cod Baseball game. If you go to the Cape, and you are even the slightest baseball fan, I sincerely encourage you to find a game to go to. From their website, the Cape Cod Baseball League is recognized as one of "the best summer leagues in the country by college coaches and professional scouts." It's a wooden bat league, admission is by donation, and players are accessible to fans before, during, and after the game. Talk about playing for the love of the game!

This particular game was a doubleheader, and we arrived late catching the West Falmouth Commodores winning in walk-off style. In between games, I played catch beyond the outfield wall with our oldest son Patrick. It was a classic father/son moment and one that I would not soon forget. 

While we were playing together, there was music playing on the loudspeakers. I wasn't really paying attention to the songs. At one point, one of us overthrew the other, and I did stop to listen to the music. I heard the following lyrics: 

"It's funny how it's the little things in life, that mean the most

Not where you live, what you drive, or the price tag on your clothes

There's no dollar sign on a piece of mind, this I've come to know."

I thought about what I was doing at that moment right there. Standing in the grass, having a catch with my son, at a baseball game, in the middle of the summer. Talk about the little things...

That evening while putting him to bed, he was fussing with his phone. As I was reminding him we don't have screen time before bed, he told me he was downloading a song. I am almost sure I rolled my eyes and asked what song, expecting him to tell me the name of a song I could not recognize. Instead, he said, "I'm downloading Chicken Fried, you know, that song that was playing today when we were having a catch." You could have knocked me over with a feather - we had not said a word about that song all day. 

In education, we sometimes get caught up worrying about significant issues. Equity, justice, racism, test scores, budgets passing, and curriculum. Please hear me clearly - these are all critical issues, every single one of them. All have their place in the St. Johnsbury educational world. 

And we have to tend to the little things. We have to water the plants of relationships, we have to feed the desire to be cared for by our students, we have to nurture and grow a culture of trust so adults can feel safe taking risks. We don't want to miss the little things because we don't always know where those things are going to land in the lives of our students. 

So yes, Patrick and I both like our chicken fried. 

Photo Courtesy of www.yourmoderndad.com