Don't Blink

Part of the reality of being an AAU basketball family is that we spend some weekends on the road, away from home, attending out-of-state tournaments. It's a chance to leave the Green Mountain State for a couple of days and experience hotel life! The weekend of March 25 - 27, outside of Portland, Maine, we had a moment with another family on the hotel elevator that really stayed with me. 

Our oldest son and I were getting on the elevator, and we were joined by a family of four: parents and two children. They were clearly going to the pool and had all the equipment they needed with them. The young boy had a small kickboard, which he was using (not surprisingly) to bang on anyone and anything within reach. 

Much to my own child's chagrin, and dismay, I was chatting with the parents as the elevator descended to the lobby. During the course of the conversation, the kickboard interrupted what we were saying, and the mother apologized to me. To which I responded, "Please don't apologize. I've been there. This guy (pointing to my son) and his brother were the same way." As my own child rolled his eyes, the young boy went back to whacking the side of the elevator. 

And when the elevator doors opened, the two children sprang out and ran off to the pool, with their parents trailing behind them. Watching them go, there was a pang in my heart. I thought of all the moments on vacation we had when Our Boys were younger, and we were the family that apologized for the ruckus. I could picture them with their floaties, goggles, noodles, and kickboards, disrupting elevator moments for complete strangers we would never see again. 

We would get to the pool, and their shrieks would echo in the enclosed hotel space. Splashing, jumping, and playing for hours. Whacking each other, the water, and anything they could get their pool toys on. Until it was time to go back up to the room, dripping wet but full of the joy of life in a hotel pool. 

And as I watched that family disappear, I turned to look at the young man left on the elevator with me. I was immediately filled with pride. Our Patrick is almost as tall as I am, having earned a spot on the varsity basketball team this year as a freshman in high school, learning and struggling valiantly with the realities and inequalities of our world in 2022. While part of my heart ached for those moments of years past, I was also anxious for the anticipation of his next life chapters. 

For me, parenting is essentially a constant state of learning. While there are stages, more often that not, when we think we've mastered a stage, there's a variable, or the next stage appears. I remember those early years well, and sometimes long for what I think is their ease. But I also know every stage has it challenges, which we rarely remember as fondly as the moments that were wonderful and mark those years in our hearts indelibly. 

It's bittersweet for sure to watch Patrick and Brendan grow as they yearn for more and more independence. And as I trailed behind Patrick briefly while we walked to the car to drive to his basketball games, I lamented the all too swift passage of time. Only to promise myself to hold on to the moments, be more present, and treasure our time together. 

Photo Courtesy of www.gretchenrubin.com

Family First

Love him or hate him, Duke Men's Head Basketball Coach Mike Krzyzewski is heading to the Sweet Sixteen again after defeating Michigan State this evening. He has been the coach at Duke since 1980, earning five national titles, twelve Final Four appearances, fifteen Athletic Coast Conference (ACC) Tournament championships, and thirteen ACC regular-season titles. Coach K has more wins than anyone at any level in college basketball. As if that is not an impressive enough resume, he also coached the USA Men's Basketball team, winning three consecutive gold medals. 

Coach K first appeared on my radar many years ago as a college basketball fan but endeared himself to me with a story. I heard that he started the first practice of each new college basketball season by writing "integrity" on a whiteboard. Coach K would then go on to define it as "Doing the right thing when no one else is looking." I often used that quote as a teacher and when I coached early on in my teaching career. Needless to say, I was not nearly as successful as Coach K. 

Last June, Coach K announced his retirement, effective at the end of the 2021 - 2022 season. His final home game at Cameron Indoor Stadium was a loss to Duke's ACC rival, North Carolina. Not exactly the way he wanted to go out, I'm certain. When the game was over, the teams shook hands, and the entire Duke team retreated to their locker room. Not one person left the arena, as there was to be a celebration of Coach K's career shortly after the game ended. 

When Coach K re-emerged from the locker room to make his way back out to the court to be honored for his efforts, he was surrounded by his family and holding his wife's hand. Before he took the microphone to speak to the faithful 9,314 fans (capacity at Cameron), he went over to the sideline and was engulfed in an embrace by all his grandchildren. When he finally took the microphone, surrounded by his family, he spoke about basketball. But he also talked about family. 

Coach K shared that his very first athletic director, Tom Butters, the man who hired him in 1980, taking a chance on a little-known 33-year-old coach from Army, said: "It's not your job. It's your family's job. Whatever you're doing, include your family." What a fantastic statement to hear from your boss as you start a new job. Let's be honest, this is the reality for every single one of us, even those of us who don't earn the same kind of fame as Coach K. 

Our families are with us at work, even if they're not physically present. They're on our minds and on our hearts, especially as we navigated these past two years. One of my best principals said something beautiful when he met my then-girlfriend, now wife; he said to her, "Thank you for sharing Brian with us." When I meet families of people who serve with us in St. Johnsbury, I try to remember to say that. Because the truth is, our families are always there for us, no matter what is happening at work. Our families are always there for us. 

So I'll be rooting for Coach K to finish his career with one more championship. Not just because of how he coaches. Not just because of his definition of integrity. Because of what his priorities are when it comes to his family. 

It's not your job. It's your family's job. Whatever you're doing, include your family. 

Photo Courtesy of www.dreamstime.com

I'm Sorry Ms. Bean

As I've shared on this blog before, one of my favorite things to do as a superintendent is classroom visits. One of the things I worried about most when I began serving in this role twelve years ago was how far it was from the real action of teaching and learning. To address that, and selfishly because I love being around students, I make sure there is time in my schedule each week to be in classrooms. 

This past week, I wandered into a middle school English Language Arts (ELA) classroom. I sat in an empty seat near the back of the class and listened as Ms. Bean explained how the students would rank their choices for their book for the class book study. As is often the case, my entrance tends to garner some attention regardless of how carefully I open and close the door. In this instance, two students in the back, near my seat, started to talk to me almost immediately. 

One was CJ, and the other was Rachel. We whispered back and forth during appropriate times (or what I thought were appropriate) in the lesson. Yet, the last thing that I wanted to happen in a classroom happened: "CJ, please stop talking," came from Ms. Bean. I thought it was independent work time, and I was why CJ was talking. Looking around, indeed, I did see that almost everyone else had their eyes on Ms. Bean, and to his credit, CJ apologized. 

Rachel, CJ, and I found our rhythm after that and only spoke when no direct instruction was happening. I answered some questions, worked with both of them on ranking their books, and learned a great deal about them throughout the class. Both had some prior knowledge of the books in front of them, they filled in their choices, and ultimately the work was collected, and it was time for me to go. Except I didn't. 

Rachel and CJ invited me back to their homeroom for dismissal, which I gladly accepted. From lockers to homeroom to the buses, I spent my afternoon with two of our students whom I had never met before. They were kind, funny, curious, and engaging. They made me laugh, made me think, and asked my opinion. They were excited about masks being optional, unsure of their plans for the upcoming weekend, and hoping that they got one of their top two choices for the book study. 

Rachel and CJ, thank you for making me feel welcome in your class. I sincerely appreciated spending the time with you both. It was one of my favorite days last week. But there's one more thing I need to do: 

I'm really sorry for interrupting your class, Ms. Bean!

Photo courtesy of www.americangreetings.com

Now What?

We made the decision. 

We looked at the data (six cases in three days). We noted what other districts in our region were doing (some are making masks optional on the same day). We listened to our state leadership regarding buses (no longer are masks required on buses, per the federal government). All that was enough for us. 

On Monday, March 7, masks are optional in the St. Johnsbury School District. Almost two years to the day of the emergency school dismissal, we welcome our students back to our school, and they are not required to wear a mask. 

Some may choose to continue to wear a mask. We are more than OK with that. This is a personal, family decision. We ask for grace and patience as we transition to a final (hopefully) phase of this roller coaster of public health. 

We will continue to be thoughtful about how we are in our school. Sick students and adults still need to stay home. Anyone sick in school will be sent home. These last two years have been challenging at best, discouraging at times, downright rotten at worst. 

Now there is light - both in terms of the longer days of our spring and the opportunity to see faces. For some of our youngest students, this will be the first time they've come to our building without a mask. For some of our oldest students, this will be the first time in two years they will be in our school and see their classmates' and their teachers' faces. 

There may be some anxiety about this. There may be some relief about this. There may be mixed feelings about this. We ask for grace and patience.

We are not sure what the future holds, but then again, when do we really have any certainty about that? Maybe we will see another variant. Perhaps we won't. I know I am thrilled to see faces again - I've missed that human connection. 

I also know there are two things I'm not going to be saying in the coming days, weeks, months, and years. They are "learning loss" and "back to normal." Let me explain. 

I'm not going to say "learning loss" because that's an insult to everyone's efforts in the past two years. Students, teachers, staff, leadership, families, and communities came together to make these past two years work. Was it perfect? No. Did we do the best we could, given the circumstances? Absolutely. Our students haven't fallen behind. This was a global health pandemic. It spared no continent. 

Will we focus on academic growth as we look forward? Indeed we will. Our ESSER II plan has ambitious growth goals we will work to achieve. But we will not say learning loss. 

We are also committed to not going "back to normal." Normal was not working for all of our students. Normal was not working for all of our families. Normal was not working. We do not want to go "back to normal." 

Normal was brushing aside issues of equity because they made us uncomfortable. Normal meant accepting the fact that some families have been devastated by the opioid crisis. Normal was a building schedule so inter-connected that 8th-grade classes were tied inextricably to Kindergarten classes. Did we make it work? We did. Is there a better way? There is. 

I hope that our school community and the larger St. Johnsbury community will join me in promising not to say these two phrases as we move forward. We have a lot of work to do together as we emerge from the last two years. And with this shared commitment, we will have a way to talk about our future with the hope and expectation it deserves. 

She Lost My Business

On Wednesday, February 16, I was scheduled to fly from Burlington, VT to Nashville, TN, via Washington, DC to attend the National Conference on Education, sponsored by AASA, the School Superintendents Association. We would leave BTV at 12:30, have about an hour or so at Reagan National, and reach Nashville by 5:30 that evening. It was not to be. 

For the first time in all the years I've been flying (almost 43), the plane that was en route to BTV, the one I would eventually fly on, could not land. The winds were so substantial that day at the Burlington Airport that the plane could not safely land despite three attempts. It was diverted to Albany, and we were given a later departure time that afternoon. 

Hustling to the ticket agent near the boarding gate, I quickly made arrangements to leave on a later flight from Burlington and then also pushed back my connection in DC. I figured we may not see the plane from Albany any time soon, so I chose a different flight altogether. With this new itinerary, we would be in Nashville after 9:00 PM but still have the entire conference. 

As we prepared to board the later flight, there was a commotion at the door to the jetway. When things settled down, one of the airline employees announced that the incoming plane was also unable to land, despite three attempts. The plane was being diverted to Bradley Airport (CT), and they would rebook us. This time, I went downstairs to the original location where you check your bags in Burlington. 

It was clear that I would not get to Nashville that day, and if things didn't change quickly enough, I might even not make it the following day. There was already someone ahead of me downstairs, so I needed a plan B. Fortunately, my mother-in-law had one. She suggested that we fly out of Albany and get away from Burlington altogether. My Wife got on the phone with American Airlines and made the change to our itinerary. We were now leaving from Albany!

I went over to the rental counters to see if I could get a one-way rental to the Albany Airport. I met with a very kind employee, who listened carefully to my situation, and then began working away at the computer on her desk. A couple of times she grimaced at what she saw on the screen, but continued typing. Finally she looked up at me and said, "I've got plenty of cars, but you don't want to rent from me." I must have had a confused look on my face, because she continued, "I know you need to get to Albany but you don't want to do it in one my cars. It will be way to expensive." I was so exhausted from the saga of our day, that I only shook my head to express my misunderstanding. "Listen, use your phone, get on Orbitz, Travelocity, or Expedia, and get a one-way rental through one of them... it will be way cheaper." 

When I asked what the computer in front of her was suggesting I pay for a one way rental for less than twelve hours, she responded, "You don't want to know." So I stepped away from the counter, pulled out my phone, and was able to rent a car from a competitor. I thought the price was pretty reasonable, given all the circumstances of the day, and it would ultimately get us to Albany. I booked the car online and started to walk away from the woman I had been interacting with. 

But I couldn't just walk away. I needed to know. I needed to know how much the company was going to charge me. I went back, waited in line, and finally got to the front. With a surprised look on her face, she said, "You couldn't get another car anywhere else tonight?" When I told her I did, with one of her competitors, she sighed in relief. 

"I just couldn't bring myself to charge you what the computer was telling me." 

"How much was it if I had stayed with your company," I asked. 

"You don't want to know," she said. 

"Please," I responded. 

This kind woman took a deep breath, "More than $500. I just couldn't do that to you after the day you've had. And knowing that you have to drive three hours to another airport tomorrow, just to get to your conference. I just couldn't do it." 

I ended up renting a car for a little over $100, thanks to a woman who listened to my story, heard what was happening, and found a little kindness at 9:45 PM on a Wednesday. She lost my business that night. 

But I will be back at her counter again sometime soon!

Photo Courtesy of www.everday-kindness.com