On Drive-Bys

Twenty years ago, I was in the final months of my Master's Program at Fordham University. I had taken a year off to earn the degree and get back to the classroom as quickly as possible. I had applied for and earned a first-grade teaching position that I was excited to begin. It would be my first time teaching an early elementary class, and while I was nervous, the opportunity to be in the lives of five and six-year-olds while they learned was exhilarating. 

I struggled that year - not so much with the students or the education, but with the leadership in the school. Typical visits from my principal included what I like to call "drive-bys" or brief moment walk-throughs, very little interaction with me or my students, and plenty of scribbling on a notepad. It was 2001, after all, and there was very little that would resemble today in terms of technology. Bottom line, there was no feedback. I had no idea what was being written down, and I heard very little from my immediate supervisor, positive or negative. 

I do remember hearing something positive on the day before our winter holiday break in December. It was another drive-by, but on the way out of the room, this individual paused, leaned down, and said, "You have a nice rapport with your students." I barely looked up and almost didn't hear what was said. Now please understand, I did not go into teaching to hear compliments and praise from others. And as someone who was in his first year of a new teaching assignment, I was yearning for some kind of feedback. 

There was a seminal moment that year, with my then-girlfriend, now wife. We had just bought bagel sandwiches and coffee at Bagel Rising on Commonwealth Avenue in Allston. The shop was full, and we took our food outside and sat down on the curb. Since she's also an educator, we were talking through my struggles with leadership. In the middle of the conversation, she stopped and said, "Ricca, you're going to be a superintendent one day." The words were not even out of her mouth for a second when I responded, "No way. Superintendents are so far away from the classroom, pushing papers and working with boards. They are totally disconnected from students." 

How little did I know...

About a week ago, one of my teachers in St. Johnsbury reached out to me and shared that a student had been making significant growth in school. As a part of the celebration, this teacher asked the student who this information should be shared with. Quickly came, other teachers, family members, "and the guy who walks around our building and sits down to talk to us. You know the one with the tie and the spiky hair?"

I found the teacher and connected with the student. It was humbling. I will be honest, I didn't remember the specific conversation that I had with this student before this moment pictured below. 

What I do know is that for the last ten years serving as a superintendent has been nothing like what the first-grade teacher in 2001 thought would be like. Yes, I work with boards. Yes, there is a lot of paperwork, especially this year. Yes, I am physically far away from classrooms. 

And yet, I'm grateful that the board that I serve encourages and supports my time in the building. In the classrooms, in the offices, in the spaces where the real work of our district takes place. Making time to be present to the people, both adults and students, who show up every day, even during a global health pandemic, to build the relationships that allow the full potential and possibility of education. 

Twenty years ago, I had no idea what the superintendency would be like. I had one version in my head, from the only superintendent I knew as a student growing up. I never saw him, barely knew his name, and can't remember seeing him once in our school. That was just my experience. 

What I knew then and experience now is that our work has to be so much more than just drive-bys. 

Photo courtesy of @JoshShipp