An Ordinary Interaction

I've been on Twitter since 2011, when I began my first superintendency. It's been some of the best professional development I've had from the comfort of my own home. As one of my former colleagues noted, "Twitter is about connecting with people based on the merit of the idea." While it can be a rabbit hole, if you're thoughtful and careful, it is a fantastic way to grow and be in the world. Case in point last week, in this reply to someone who has no idea who I am: 

When I read the initial tweet from National Public Radio's Scott Simon, I immediately remembered Nancy, the crossing guard on the corner of the street where I grew up in Mt. Vernon, New York. I didn't even need to cross the street, but almost every morning of elementary school, I was on the corner talking with her. Somewhere in the boxes of our basement is a picture of me and her - I desperately tried to find it for this post, but alas, I could not. 

Last spring, I had the chance to learn with Dr. Junlei Li, from the Graduate School of Education at Harvard University. Dr. Li is inspired by the legendary Fred Rogers, and as such he is "committed to understanding and supporting the work of helpers - those who serve children and families on the frontlines of education and social service." He shared with us that after decades of research on resilience, the single most common finding is that children who end up doing well have had at least one stable and committed relationship with a supportive parent, caregiver, or other adult. 

The title of Dr. Li's presentation was "More Than Just One Thing: Appreciating the Power of Simple, Ordinary Interactions." As a part of his team's work, they studied the interactions children had with all people in their world, including crossing guards. On a street corner in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, they recorded the daily moments between a crossing guard and the young people in that neighborhood. It was inspiring. 

This crossing guard called every child by name. She mentioned if she noticed a new hair cut. She asked about parents or siblings. There was something different but personal about the way she connected with each child as they crossed the street, safely together. The longest interaction Dr. Li's team recorded was twelve seconds. 

Twelve seconds. Two tenths of one minute. A fraction of a moment. An ordinary interaction. 

While I reflected on this tweet, and the idea for this blog post began to ruminate in my mind, I recalled one of the things that drew me to East Greenwich. On the day that I spent visiting schools in this district in April, I was escorted through the buildings by each principal. While walking around, and a child crossed our path, every principal greeted every one of them by name. 

Every single child. A fraction of a moment. An ordinary interaction. 

So Mr. Simon, that eight year old boy, son of someone in a nail salon you pass most days. You wave. You play hide and seek behind your hands. You high-five. You sneak him cookies. He giggles. When he's grown up, and a scientist, banker, teacher, or poet, he will remember you. 

Beecause of those ordinary interactions. 

Photo Courtesy of www.schoollibraryjournal.com