This past Wednesday, during a basketball game, our youngest son drove hard to the hoop, was contacted by two opposing players, fell to the ground, and hit his head. In the aftermath, a teammate who was scrambling to get to the loose ball, also made contact with his head while he was laying on the ground. Our son came out of the game, and the following day, he was diagnosed with a mild concussion at the doctor's office. With that diagnosis came the two scariest words to any child in 2020: screen-free.
We spent the day together on Friday, and I must confess, at first, even I was a little daunted by the lack of screens on the horizon of our day. I pledged to be in this with him, and I was off my screens as well. I did admit to him that I checked my work e-mail once while I was upstairs, and he was on the couch. Still, we had a beautiful day together.
We remembered the fun we had when he was in Pre Kindergarten and went to Starbucks together. Though we didn't count the cars as we did when he was 3 and 4, we sat together at a table taking in the world around us.
We went shopping together. We got the car washed. We ferried a dear friend's child to a tennis lesson.
We went out for lunch. We listened to Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone being read to us. We read books.
We read books. I read an entire book that had been sitting on my nightstand that I had been reading in five and ten-page increments before falling asleep at night. I read the whole book. Yes, I read the entire book in one day. I even took notes on a yellow legal pad, instead of scribbling everything in the margins, although I did still mark up the book significantly.
I am a reasonable human being, and I know that we are not going to ever fully get rid of screens or our attachment to them. Remember I admitted earlier that I checked in on my work e-mail? Our tether to technology is not going to ever be entirely severed.
But we can be more thoughtful. We can make better choices. We can be more fully present to the people and the moments around us.
I fully recognize that I am more than halfway past the point when both of our children will live in the house with My Wife and me. We are closer to the day when they will leave to begin their own lives and continue to make their own indelible marks on this world. I know that day is coming, and my heart is already preparing for it.
While I wish the circumstances were different, I will forever cherish the screen-free day that dotted the landscape of my relationship with Brendan Watson Ricca.
I love you.
Welcome to Life Long Learning. In this blog, I hope to share some of my reflections, comments, and thoughts about education, educational leadership, and pedagogy.
Sunday, January 26, 2020
Monday, January 20, 2020
We Do It Because It's Hard
During the past several weeks, there has been a great deal of discussion about Proficiency-Based Learning in Vermont. Specifically, those of us who did not learn in a proficiency-based system as students and weren't taught how to teach in a proficiency-based system as educators have struggled to make this a reality for our students. Changing how we teach our students and how we assess our students is hard work. And that's OK.
I was reminded of this during the week reading a blog post by George Couros that pointed out: "easy does not equal good," which reminded me of this quote by John F. Kennedy:
"We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win, and the others, too." (September 12, 1962, Rice University, Houston, TX)
Yes, it is hard to change how we teach our students. Yes, it is hard to change how we assess our students. Yes, it is hard to change how we report our students' progress to families and institutions of higher education. And this is the right thing to do for our students.
This is not to say that how we learned as students and as educators is wrong. I genuinely believe that my own education K - 12, as well as my higher education, was reflective of the best pedagogy at that time. But we know so much more now.
We know that it is rare for someone to learn how to ride a bike the first time the training wheels come off. We know that it takes a coordination of balance, pedaling, and turning that more often than not does not happen the first time. We don't say that the person who was first to ride a bike after practicing one time is "better" than the person who learned how to ride their bike after fifteen or twenty tries. The end result is the same: we have someone who can ride a bike.
We know that many, many people in the world did not pass their driver's test the first time. That does not mean they are not drivers today. When someone does not pass their driver's test, they get specific feedback on what they did wrong. And then they go back and practice the portion they got wrong, while still maintaining their other driving skills. When they feel as though they've mastered the weak area, they return for another chance at the test. If driving tests were "high stakes assessments," we would have a lot more people who did not have drivers' licenses.
Finally, if we fail to pay our taxes on April 15, the federal government does not "give us a zero," and move on until the next year. Instead, there is a fine that is assessed and a six-month extension given to file one's returns.
We don't bemoan the fact that medicine has made advances in the past 45 years, eradicating diseases that were once deadly.
We don't complain about the fact that there are electric cars that can travel several hundred miles on a single charge.
We don't wring our hands at the reality that our phone is no longer fastened to a wall, can fit in our pocket, and is as powerful as a laptop computer.
What if those advances never got off the ground because they were too hard?
I am proud to be a professional educator in the State of Vermont. I am proud that in this state, a leadership endorsement can only be put onto an educator's license. I am proud that we are making advances in instruction, assessment, and reporting that align with advances that we know to be learner-centered.
Teaching is hard. It should be because it's not for everyone. It's a noble profession that educates for the future. It wasn't easy 45 years ago and it's not easy today.
We don't do it because it's easy.
Easy does not equal good.
I was reminded of this during the week reading a blog post by George Couros that pointed out: "easy does not equal good," which reminded me of this quote by John F. Kennedy:
"We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win, and the others, too." (September 12, 1962, Rice University, Houston, TX)
Yes, it is hard to change how we teach our students. Yes, it is hard to change how we assess our students. Yes, it is hard to change how we report our students' progress to families and institutions of higher education. And this is the right thing to do for our students.
This is not to say that how we learned as students and as educators is wrong. I genuinely believe that my own education K - 12, as well as my higher education, was reflective of the best pedagogy at that time. But we know so much more now.
We know that it is rare for someone to learn how to ride a bike the first time the training wheels come off. We know that it takes a coordination of balance, pedaling, and turning that more often than not does not happen the first time. We don't say that the person who was first to ride a bike after practicing one time is "better" than the person who learned how to ride their bike after fifteen or twenty tries. The end result is the same: we have someone who can ride a bike.
We know that many, many people in the world did not pass their driver's test the first time. That does not mean they are not drivers today. When someone does not pass their driver's test, they get specific feedback on what they did wrong. And then they go back and practice the portion they got wrong, while still maintaining their other driving skills. When they feel as though they've mastered the weak area, they return for another chance at the test. If driving tests were "high stakes assessments," we would have a lot more people who did not have drivers' licenses.
Finally, if we fail to pay our taxes on April 15, the federal government does not "give us a zero," and move on until the next year. Instead, there is a fine that is assessed and a six-month extension given to file one's returns.
We don't bemoan the fact that medicine has made advances in the past 45 years, eradicating diseases that were once deadly.
We don't complain about the fact that there are electric cars that can travel several hundred miles on a single charge.
We don't wring our hands at the reality that our phone is no longer fastened to a wall, can fit in our pocket, and is as powerful as a laptop computer.
What if those advances never got off the ground because they were too hard?
I am proud to be a professional educator in the State of Vermont. I am proud that in this state, a leadership endorsement can only be put onto an educator's license. I am proud that we are making advances in instruction, assessment, and reporting that align with advances that we know to be learner-centered.
Teaching is hard. It should be because it's not for everyone. It's a noble profession that educates for the future. It wasn't easy 45 years ago and it's not easy today.
We don't do it because it's easy.
Easy does not equal good.
Photo Courtesy of www.quitterswin.blog |
Sunday, January 12, 2020
The Simple Joys of Childhood
When we moved into our current house in 2010, Our Boys were two and four. We brought with us the swing set that we had at the first house we shared as a family. The swing set was a house warming gift from my nana when we first moved. A friend generously helped us take it down and put it back together once we moved. It still stands in our backyard today.
When Our Boys were younger, it was a regular source of play. Regardless of the weather, the two of them, or their friends, were out there for hours. There was scrambling up the ladders or climbing walls. There was sliding down the slides. There was swinging on the swings. There were imaginary battles on the top decks. There were yells, screams, and laughter.
More often than not, these days, the swing set sits empty in our backyard, waiting for a child, regardless of the age, to find some measure of play on it. Occasionally, we've mused aloud about taking it down to create more space for the type of play Our Boys are choosing more and more of these days: athletics. If we took down that swing set, there would be more room to hit, swing, throw, and run in our yard.
And yet the two loudest voices holding on to this childhood play space might surprise you: Our Boys. You see, while they recognize they've almost wholly outgrown it physically, they still use it. Despite the lure of technology, when they have friends over and are playing outside, inevitably, they end up on that swing set. Yes, it may be harder to navigate, given their growing bodies, but they make it work.
One of the wonderful things about this house is that we are situated in a neighborhood in which friends for Our Boys are within walking distance. I love that on snow days or summer days, or really any day, there are three or four houses which may, on the one hand, have five or six children in them, while simultaneously at another home, there are no children at all.
I fondly remember seeing Our Boys and their friends during a snow day last year, using the swing set as a fort. There they were running around, pointing and laughing, climbing and falling, pushing and tackling, in an imaginary world they had constructed. The snow falling made it a picturesque moment that I won't soon forget.
I had a swing set in my backyard growing up, a gift from my grandparents. The same nana that bought the swing set for my own children, helped to buy the one I used when I was a child. I can still see us swinging together on that swing set in the house I grew up in. To this day, when I go to a park, I love to swing. It brings back such wonderful memories.
This past week would have been my nana's 104th birthday. She passed away four years ago this coming summer, having lived a full life. With her generosity, she gave two generations of Ricca children and their friends one of the greatest gifts parents could hope for: the gift of play.
Happy Birthday, Nana!
When Our Boys were younger, it was a regular source of play. Regardless of the weather, the two of them, or their friends, were out there for hours. There was scrambling up the ladders or climbing walls. There was sliding down the slides. There was swinging on the swings. There were imaginary battles on the top decks. There were yells, screams, and laughter.
More often than not, these days, the swing set sits empty in our backyard, waiting for a child, regardless of the age, to find some measure of play on it. Occasionally, we've mused aloud about taking it down to create more space for the type of play Our Boys are choosing more and more of these days: athletics. If we took down that swing set, there would be more room to hit, swing, throw, and run in our yard.
And yet the two loudest voices holding on to this childhood play space might surprise you: Our Boys. You see, while they recognize they've almost wholly outgrown it physically, they still use it. Despite the lure of technology, when they have friends over and are playing outside, inevitably, they end up on that swing set. Yes, it may be harder to navigate, given their growing bodies, but they make it work.
One of the wonderful things about this house is that we are situated in a neighborhood in which friends for Our Boys are within walking distance. I love that on snow days or summer days, or really any day, there are three or four houses which may, on the one hand, have five or six children in them, while simultaneously at another home, there are no children at all.
I fondly remember seeing Our Boys and their friends during a snow day last year, using the swing set as a fort. There they were running around, pointing and laughing, climbing and falling, pushing and tackling, in an imaginary world they had constructed. The snow falling made it a picturesque moment that I won't soon forget.
I had a swing set in my backyard growing up, a gift from my grandparents. The same nana that bought the swing set for my own children, helped to buy the one I used when I was a child. I can still see us swinging together on that swing set in the house I grew up in. To this day, when I go to a park, I love to swing. It brings back such wonderful memories.
This past week would have been my nana's 104th birthday. She passed away four years ago this coming summer, having lived a full life. With her generosity, she gave two generations of Ricca children and their friends one of the greatest gifts parents could hope for: the gift of play.
Happy Birthday, Nana!
Photo Courtesy of www.craftandplay.com |
Sunday, January 5, 2020
Not Necessarily New in the New Year
The year and the decade just ended, so the knee jerk reaction is to come up with resolutions for what we are going to do this coming year differently. In the lives of educators, this is a hard time to "start" something new. Instead, I offer that this is a better time to reflect, refresh, and recommit.
We still have more than half of our year ahead of us, approximately 100 days. In Vermont, late August and early September seem far away and dreamlike. Long sunny days, warmer temperatures, with the hope and promise of the school year to come. And while we are definitely getting more and more minutes of daylight, the further we get from December 21, there is still way more darkness than light, and the temperatures are typically below freezing.
What were we thinking about as we began our school year together? What hopes did we have for our time with our students and our colleagues? What seemed probable four months ago that might be slipping out of reach?
Yes, the new year is an excellent time to make some changes if need be. Yes, the new year is an excellent time to stop old habits that are not fulfilling. Yes, the new year is an excellent time to introduce new routines.
Personally, I'm returning to healthier food choices and more running. I typically give myself a pass during the window between our Friendsgiving and the New Year, simply to be pragmatic. I also find it to be more enjoyable, honestly.
Professionally, I'm recommitting myself to the work of equity. I've been participating in the Leading Equity Virtual Summit this week, and have been so inspired and humbled by the speakers. This tweet from Jeanie Phillips really impacted me:
So as we bring in a new year and a new decade, my hope is that we can honor who we were last year (which is only five days ago) and enhance the work we've done that has gotten us to this point.
Let that be our promise to ourselves and our students.
We still have more than half of our year ahead of us, approximately 100 days. In Vermont, late August and early September seem far away and dreamlike. Long sunny days, warmer temperatures, with the hope and promise of the school year to come. And while we are definitely getting more and more minutes of daylight, the further we get from December 21, there is still way more darkness than light, and the temperatures are typically below freezing.
What were we thinking about as we began our school year together? What hopes did we have for our time with our students and our colleagues? What seemed probable four months ago that might be slipping out of reach?
Yes, the new year is an excellent time to make some changes if need be. Yes, the new year is an excellent time to stop old habits that are not fulfilling. Yes, the new year is an excellent time to introduce new routines.
Personally, I'm returning to healthier food choices and more running. I typically give myself a pass during the window between our Friendsgiving and the New Year, simply to be pragmatic. I also find it to be more enjoyable, honestly.
Professionally, I'm recommitting myself to the work of equity. I've been participating in the Leading Equity Virtual Summit this week, and have been so inspired and humbled by the speakers. This tweet from Jeanie Phillips really impacted me:
So as we bring in a new year and a new decade, my hope is that we can honor who we were last year (which is only five days ago) and enhance the work we've done that has gotten us to this point.
Let that be our promise to ourselves and our students.
Photo courtesy of www.etsy.com |
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