Learning From Our Students

After graduating from the College of the Holy Cross in May 1996, I joined a volunteer program that no longer exists: Inner-City Teaching Corps. The program placed recent college graduates in classrooms in Chicago's forgotten neighborhoods. It was modeled after the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, which was much more broad in terms of the volunteer opportunities. We lived in a small community with a limited budget, but we all taught. 

Without a degree in education or certification to teach, the program partnered with Loyola University Chicago to obtain temporary licensure for us. When I left Chicago in 2000, I knew I wanted to be a teacher. However, all I had was four years of teaching under my belt. 

I found a thirteen-month program at Fordham University that came with a New York State teaching certificate, along with a Master of Science in Teaching degree. I was a full-time student, but because of the program's duration, we were required to complete a portfolio of our work instead of writing a lengthy final project. The title of my portfolio was "Learning From My Students." 

Fast forward twenty-three years, and I was at the Hanaford School for classroom visits last week when Ms. Colleen Hanrahan invited me to the front of the room to complete a challenging math problem. The class read the question aloud to me, and I started to show my work. I knew immediately that I was going down the wrong path, as there was an almost instant buzz in the room. Fortunately, the students and the teacher were more than happy to help. With the right prompts from both Ms. Hanrahan and her students, I was able to find my way back to the correct answer. 

It was so important for Ms. Hanrahan and her students to see that we don't have all the answers. Often, when I ask students what the superintendent does, the response is: "You're the boss of the principals." Technically, that's correct. However, this is my answer: 

• My job is to ensure that every student who comes to school feels safe, welcomed, and included so they can learn to their potential. When students feel those things, they have the freedom to make mistakes, which is the best way for us to learn. 

Just by the fact that we have degrees in education and licenses to teach, does not mean we have all the answers. Just because we stand in front of the class, with a well-thought-out lesson plan, does not mean we won't be stumped. Just because we are adults does not mean we know it all. 

But let's be honest, we sometimes slip into that mindset. Adults know more than children. It's just nature's way. We've been around the block more than once or twice. We've been in their chairs. We've completed our education.  We have college and advanced degrees. We pay mortgages. We pay taxes. We are adults!

In 2022, I wrote about a colleague whose humility in education was inspirational. Frank Raispis was committed to staying in education, as long as he continued to learn. He wasn't interested in titles, degrees, or teaching licenses. Mr. Raispis was interested in learning and had a life full of it. 

I love being a Superintendent of Schools. Whenever I'm discouraged by the work of my office, I leave and visit a classroom. Whether it's on the floor with a first grade at Frenchtown or Meadowbrook. Or perhaps it's in an advanced science classroom at EGHS. Maybe it's wandering into a foreign language lesson at Cole. Or finding my way into a self-contained class at Eldredge or Hanaford. It energizes me. It inspires me. It reminds me why I went into education in the first place. 

After last week, my Fordham portfolio needs a few more pages. For Ms. Colleen Hanrahan. For her students. 

For teaching me that I still have plenty to learn and so much more to grow. 

Photo courtesy of www.medium.com

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

At least, that's what Andy Williams said. The popular Christmas song was written in 1963 by Edward Pola and George Wyle, and I have distinct memories of it playing on my parent's record player during the holiday season. Yes, a record player. I currently have that song, along with many others, on my iPhone playlist. I have fond memories of Christmas in our home, for almost every year except one. 

My grandfather passed away in the spring of 1983. That Christmas was different. It was somehow muted and slightly less "bright" than the others. There was an empty seat at the table that would have been his. 

In the East Greenwich Community this holiday season, there will be three empty seats that families will experience for the first time. Dr. Steven Arnoff, our former Director of Technology, passed away on November 24 last year. Ryan Casey passed away on November 18. Bob Houghtaling passed away on December 8. None of those deaths were expected, and each person left an indelible imprint on many, many people. 

When My Wife was eight years old, her dad passed away. Since then, almost forty years ago, every holiday season has been bittersweet. Patrick Gendron missed all of the significant milestones in her life: sweet sixteen, high school and college graduation, first job, our wedding, the birth of our children, and all of the celebratory moments in the lives of his grandchildren. 

I never got to meet My Wife's father. In his honor, we named our oldest son Patrick Michael. His pictures are in frames in our home. 

Not every family will be decking the halls merry and bright this holiday season. For some, the losses of loved ones are fresh and still tangibly painful. For some, the losses of others are distant memories, but the feelings are so close that we could almost touch them. For me, I can go nearly eleven months of the year knowing that my grandfather passed away forty-one years ago, and I can accept that. Yet, I wanted him to be at the table with us Thanksgiving and to have had the opportunity to meet his great-grandchildren. And I will want him to be a part of this year's holiday traditions, which are dotted with the ones I grew up with that he was a part of. 

But the show must go on. There is the business of Teaching and Learning. There is the work of building the budget for next year. The families of East Greenwich Public Schools expect us to be ready to engage, instruct, assess, and meet the social-emotional needs of our students in this hectic time between Thanksgiving and the Winter Holiday Recess. 

Whether the 2024 holiday season is causing us to miss loved ones who just passed away, those who have been gone for decades, or perhaps some people are fortunate to not be grieving any loss at all. They might be aching to be reunited with estranged loved ones. They might be dealing with a family member struggling with mental illness or an addiction. Or any myriad of items that impact families. 

We can be kind. We can be gentle. We can be compassionate. We can be empathetic. We can listen. We can withhold judgment. We can create safe spaces for people to not be OK. 

Then it can be the most wonderful time of the year. 

Photo Courtesy of Steph Edwards (@toyoufromsteph)

Comparison is the Thief of Joy

One of the ways that the winter months impact me is the lack of daylight. It's not the cold, I grew up outside of New York City, and experienced real winters. I also lived for ten years in Chicago, and it's called the Windy City for good reasons. Wind chills there were the real thing. It's not the snow either, as I lived in Vermont for fifteen years, where I owned a snowblower and learned to ski as an adult!

It really is the lack of daylight. It's hard to go to work in the dark and leave in the dark. While there is brilliant light in every one of our school buildings, thanks to the tremendous faculty, staff, and students in East Greenwich Public Schools, we are seeing more and more darkness. That reality will continue until Saturday, December 21, 2024. That day has the shortest amount of daylight in the northern hemisphere. Just days after that, we will start seeing more light until the peak on Saturday, June 21, 2025. 

But I read something from The Washington Post (free article, with e-mail registration) in November that put all this into perspective. I read about the town of Utqiagvik, Alaska, located 330 miles north of the Arctic Circle. On Monday, November 18, at 1:27 PM, the sun set, and it won't rise again until January 22, 2025. For sixty-four days, residents will be essentially living at night. They will not see the sun for more than two months. There is not less and less sun, as we experience, but no sun. None. I don't know how I would feel about that. 

However, the article pointed out that the people who live in Utqiagvik will have the same amount of daylight as those of us in East Greenwich, Rhode Island. We all experience the same number of hours of sunlight over 365 days. How do I know this? Per the article, on May 11, 2025, those living in Utqiagvik will see the sun rise, and it won't set again until August 19! Honestly, I'm not sure how I would feel about that either. 

Sometimes it's about our perspective. Sometimes, it's how we think about another person. Sometimes, we have our blind spots. Sometimes, we can't see the whole picture. 

We are just coming off of the Thanksgiving Break, and whether it was a festive celebration or celebrated quietly, it is a time to be thankful. Thankful for what we have, even if we don't think it's much. Somewhere, someone else might not share that same perspective. Comparison really is the thief of joy because, in the end, we all get the same amount of sunlight. 

It Really Does Take A Village

We are one-third of the way through our year of Teaching and Learning together, which is really hard to believe. For me, time seems to move quicker the older I get. I must have blinked because, just yesterday, the days were long, and the calendar said August. In reality, December is next week, and we are only fifteen days of Teaching and Learning away from the Winter Holiday Recess...

I saw this graphic recently on Facebook, and it inspired me to be as articulate as I could be, across our district, about how thankful I am for education in East Greenwich Public Schools. 

As we approach Thanksgiving this week, I am mindful of all the people involved in making East Greenwich Public Schools' education a reality for every student. It is a collective effort from all our employees and this community. 

• It begins with our School Committee: Seven individuals, chaired by Alyson Powell, committed to ensuring that All Means All is not just the name of our Strategic Plan. 
  
  
• The Town Council: President Mark Schwager leads a group of elected officials who support public education both in terms of its day-to-day operations and its commitment to our future. 
  
  
• The School Construction Committee: With Andrew Nota as Co-Chair with me, and our construction partners, this group continues to shepherd the work of our Master Plan, which will breathe new life into our buildings. 
  
  
• I'm proud of our Facilities Team: Under Bob Wilmarth's leadership, these individuals demonstrate stewardship in all six buildings. 
  
  
• Our Technology Team: With Chris Scheib, this team ensures that both our infrastructure and hardware can support the needs of 21st-century education. 
  
  
• The Office of Finance, Administration, and Operations: Maggie Baker leads a team that carefully manages our budget of almost $50 million. This office also works with our transportation partner, Ocean State, and is home to Human Resources. 
  
  
• Student Services: Neil Marcaccio and our special educators serve students and families eligible for Individual Educational Programs (IEP) and 504s to meet their needs and make our curriculum fully accessible. Under this umbrella is Leigh Oliver, who is leading the effort to ensure best-first instruction as part of our Multi-Tiered System of Supports. 
  
  
• Aramark Food Service: Monique Herard works with her team to offer healthy meals for our students and is partnering with us to continue to meet our students' needs. 
  
  
• Our Building Principals: Eight educational professionals focused on instructional leadership along the continuum of our K-12 landscape. Our students' needs are as diverse as the student body itself, both academically and social-emotionally. 
  
  
• Our Teachers: These professionals work tirelessly to engage our students and create spaces that are safe, welcoming, and inclusive, where mistakes are welcome, and all can grow to their potential. 
  
  
• Our Paraeducators: The educational support personnel help ensure all students have fill access to the educational programs we offer. 
  
  
• The Administrative Assistants: Otherwise known as our "Directors of First Impressions," these individuals are often the first faces and voices we see and hear throughout our district. 

None of these areas are more important than another. We all rely on each other to make Teaching and Learning in EGPS a reality for all of our students. It is an interdependence that trusts the professionalism of every single individual who is an employee in our district. 

As we continue to strive for greatness, not perfection this year, I hope we can make gratitude a priority. Especially as we enter perhaps the most hectic time of the academic year, the time between the Thanksgiving Break and the Winter Holiday Recess, let's be sure to give each other the benefit of the doubt. We are, and will always be, better together. 

Photo courtesy of www.allaboutautismbni.com

On Hope

Education is an act of hope. The work is fundamental to a democracy, and it cannot be done in a silo. Planning a lesson, delivering a lesson in a way that reaches and engages all students, assessing a lesson, and reviewing said lesson is a tremendous undertaking. It takes days, hours, and minutes that are rarely seen by anyone other than the educators themselves. All of those parts of teaching (planning, delivery, assessment, and review) are themselves acts of hope. 

The hope that the lesson takes root. The hope that the delivery connects with all learners in the room. The hope that the assessment reflects the effort of both the educator and the student. The hope that the review will offer blind spots for further growth. 

In a recent blog post, Meghan Lawson pointed out the distinction between wishing and hoping, which she points out are often conflated. A wish is something that one does with candles on a cake for a birthday. As I've detailed above, hope is much more intentional and takes substantially more work. And as it turns out, hope is much more transformational. 

Ms. Lawson detailed her growth around the science of hope that started with Jamie Meade,  the former vice president and chief of staff for Battelle for Kids. Ms. Meade then led her to the psychologist C.R. Snyder, who developed the hope theory. There are three components: 

• Goals: establishing personally meaningful goals.
  
  
• Pathways: uncovering multiple ways to achieve each goal.
  
  
• Agency: believing we can overcome obstacles to achieve our goals. 

Ms. Lawson also shares two more facts about hope, distinguishing it further from a wish. 

• The first is from the book Hope Rising, by Casey Gwinn, J.D., and Chan Hellman, Ph.D. "The predictive power of hope is greater than any other character strength." 
  
  
• The second returns to Ms. Meade, who points out, "Several academic studies indicate that hope is a more robust predictor of future success than a student's ACT score, their SAT score, and their GPA. In fact, hope is a greater predictor than GPA as to whether or not a college freshman will return to campus in the second semester." 

Let that sit with you for a moment. Reread those two quotes. Then, read them out loud and count to thirty before continuing. 

Recently, there have been many discussions in East Greenwich about the scores our students are earning, and comparing us to our neighbors in Rhode Island and Massachusetts. I wrote about that in October, urging us to remember the Roosevelt quote that "comparison is the thief of joy," but more important than that is a distinction Sarah Courtemanche-O'Brien made when she updated our School Committee this past week. During this presentation, Ms. Courtemanche-O'Brien noted: 

• College Board PSAT and SAT assessments have been restructured over the last year, with this cohort data reflecting student use on the new digital platform Bluebook. The platform has reconfigured the assessment design, making the PSAT and SAT adaptive assessments based on student responses. 
  
  
• The scoring mechanism for these adaptive assessments is no longer the same. In previous years, these assessments used classical test theory: an equal number of items were incorrect for you and me, and we received the same score. Now, the assessments are using item response theory, a model that accounts for the fact that students may guess and might get different scores with the same number of right/wrong based on the rigor of what is right/wrong. 
  
  
• As such, the Math and English Language Arts (ELA) data are not comparable to previous trend data. 

So, where does this leave us? 

With the science of hope. With goals, pathways, and agency. With a predictive power greater than any other character strength. With a robust predictor of future success. We're right back where we started this conversation. 

Education is an act of hope. 

 

Fear of Greatness

I started my teaching career in 1996 on the Near Westside of Chicago, in a neighborhood where most folks would not be unless there was a Bulls or Blackhawks game. Our school was approximately a half mile from the home of two professional sports franchises and nestled in the shadow of the Henry Horner Public Housing Projects. Our free and reduced lunch rate was 99%. 

To clarify exactly what that means in 2024, I consulted the Income Eligibility Guidelines for the Child Nutrition Programs, posted by the Federal Register, a division of the National Archives. From July 1, 2024, to June 30, 2025, for a family of four, the annual poverty guideline is $31,200. So, a family of four with a household income of not more than $57,720 would be eligible for reduced-price lunch. A family of four with a household income of not more than $40,560 would qualify for free lunch. Reduced-price lunch is calculated at 185% of the poverty rate, and free lunch is calculated at 130% of the poverty rate. 

In 1996, that same government website indicated that the poverty guideline was $15,600. That family of four would be eligible for reduced-price lunch if they made no more than $28,860. To receive a free lunch in 1996, a family of four must make less than $20,280. Those numbers are as staggering today as they were in 1996. Still, these were my kiddos for the four years I taught there. 

I'm proud of the time I spent there. The dear friends I made. The fact that I met My Wife, who arrived three years after me and started teaching next door to me in that very building. 

Thanks to social media's healthy and fulfilling aspect, I'm still in touch with many of my former students from almost thirty years ago. It's incredible to see what they're doing with their lives. Without this contact, they would be frozen in the same classroom seats where I last saw them in June 2000. 

Recently, one of them reached out to me and asked if I remembered a poem they presented to the entire school community. In my second or third year there, we started a program called Special Speakers. The idea was to allow our students to speak publicly. The expectation was that each student would memorize a poem, essay, or piece of writing meaningful to them and recite it at our daily morning assembly in front of the entire school. 

While I didn't remember their poem specifically, I did remember the one I presented. Our students requested that the teachers meet the same expectations in the second year of this program. I chose what is associated most with Nelson Mandela's Inaugural address, but what actually came from Marianne Williamson's book, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles." 

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure. We are all meant to shine, as children do... And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

There is wisdom in this quote. It's not about personal greatness, it's about ensuring that we can all shine together. To be child-like, not childish. To let our greatness inspire others to be as great, whatever level that is. 

I saw greatness for the five years I served at that school in Chicago. At a place that was all but forgotten by everyone except those of us who taught there and went there. For those families, there was greatness in that building despite their surroundings. Despite the crippling poverty. Despite the unspeakable violence that surrounded the public housing project nearby. 

The East Greenwich Public Schools Vision of a Graduate speaks to the expectation of greatness, not inadequacy. The Strategic Plan in EGPS speaks to greatness, not inadequacy. The Master Plan points us toward greatness in the future of educational spaces, not inadequacy. 

Per Ms. Williamson, the presence of greatness "automatically liberates others." Ensuring that our classrooms are safe, welcoming, and inclusive demonstrates that we expect greatness but not perfection. Greatness means mistakes will be made along the way so that we can all learn to our potential. 

Let us run towards our own greatness, and embrace it so others will do the same. 

We Can't Always Get What We Want

On October 10, the School Construction Committee heard the news we hoped would not come: the Master Plan work was estimated to be more than the $150 million approved a year ago. This is the work that will breathe new life into public education in East Greenwich Public Schools. It is long overdue as professionals work in closets, on stages, and in places that are simply not conducive to education. 

Unfortunately, the financial situation is not unlike what happens when work is being planned for our own homes. The first price rarely ends up being the final price. We are in a similar situation as we consider the next steps in the Master Plan. 

The good news is that everyone is preparing to compromise and work toward a solution. As EG News reported, the town is considering several options to bridge the gap. All the work outlined in the Stage II submitted to RIDE needs to be done. No one is saying that any building is more important than any other building. We need professional spaces in the elementary schools. We need a high school we can be proud of, and that has a functioning heating, ventilation, and air conditioning system (HVAC).  

It's not either/or. It's all. All of the work needs to be done. 

So, we will all need to compromise. We will all need to manage expectations. We will all need to keep our eyes on the prize: $150 million to improve our aging school buildings, which this community will only have to repay $82.5 million. The State of Rhode Island put aside $2.2 billion in state aid for school construction. Contrast that with the state of Vermont, which also has critical needs when it comes to infrastructure in public education. There is currently no state aid in Vermont. If a school system wishes to upgrade its public schools, the individual towns are on the hook for the entire amount. 

Do I wish there was more money? I do. So does everyone. Our Town Manager, Andrew Nota, led off our Spring Forums in 2023 at Cole Middle School, stating the same thing. We all wish there could be improvements to all our buildings, encompassing everything we need. That's not the case. 

Community members voted in favor of the bond because of the work outlined in Stage II for the high school. Community members voted in favor of the bond because of the work outlined in Stage II for the elementary schools. Community members voted in favor of the bond. 

To modify a quote from one of my favorite baseball movies, Field of Dreams: If we build it, they will come, and more will stay. 

Hate Has No Place Here

This was not the post I was planning to write. I was planning to write about our Master Plan and how we will all compromise to ensure we can move forward with our $150 million bond approval in EG. Then I got a text message from Dr. Patricia Page letting me know that hate speech was written on the tennis courts at the high school. 

When I heard that word, I was transported back to elementary school. Growing up just north of New York City, I attended one of the first "integrated" schools, where students were bussed in. Of course, I didn't know any of that at that time. I just knew I went to school. It didn't matter that others didn't all look like me. Pennington-Grimes was the school I attended from Kindergarten through 6th grade. We had neighborhood students and others from different parts of Mt. Vernon. It didn't matter - they were my classmates, I didn't care how they looked. I didn't know any better. 

I heard it at school and repeated it at home, much to my mother's despair. I was told in no uncertain terms that this was a word that represented hate. It was clear I could never use that word. 

I don't use that word. Not in jest. Not in song. Not ever. 

If we are to truly embrace the notion that All Means All in East Greenwich Public Schools, we cannot ever use that word. Period. Full Stop.  

Short. Sweet. To the point: Hate has no place here. 

Barking at The Diamond Dogs

This summer, our family started rewatching Ted Lasso. There is something about the humanity of this show. The entire series thus far (I hope there will be a fourth season) is about a team and what it takes to be a part of a team. They're not perfect, and there's plenty of division, but there is innate goodness in all the characters. Take four minutes and forty-two seconds and watch one of my favorite scenes, courtesy of YouTube. Then, try to remember to be curious, not judgmental. 

One of the elements I find so endearing is the group "The Diamond Dogs." The Diamond Dogs were formed when Ted Lasso, a fish out of water in London, coaching a soccer team with absolutely no soccer experience, realized he needed help. While he brought an assistant coach with him, so many things are getting lost in translation (literally), and he's navigating a long-distance relationship with his wife and son. The collective values exhibited by the Diamond Dogs (a group of men) are collaboration, support, and growth, shown by empathy, compassion, and honesty with each other. 

I was struck by this group rewatching it because, honestly, it's rare to see men being this candid and vulnerable with each other. Part of the research in my dissertation was around the ethic of care that gets scrutinized when men are involved. I was a first-grade teacher, and a stigma went with it. It's the same stigma male nurses receive (as made fun of in the movie Meet the Parents). When there is an ethic of care, while it's seemingly OK for men to demonstrate that in their own homes, there is, at the very least, an ambivalence about it when in professional realms. 

That's why The Diamond Dogs resonated with me, but it's also what makes the concept so wonderful. The men offer their own expertise and advice to each other. They can face challenges together, creating a sense of camaraderie and togetherness. They discuss various strategies for winning and allow each other into their personal lives with vulnerability and candor. 

We know that mental health is just as important as physical health. If someone shared during a meeting that they had a headache, we would all offer whatever over-the-counter medication we had to help that individual feel better. We struggle to talk about the more complicated parts of mental health: feeling alone, overwhelmed, depressed. That's not so easy to talk about at parties. 

We know how important it is in EGPS that we dedicated our professional development time to mental health for our adults this year. We dedicated resources for all the adults in our district, including those in Central Office, to have the opportunity to learn and grow themselves to be able to better serve our students. We do this because we know our students are still struggling with the ripple effects of the pandemic. We have to be our best selves professionally to serve our students. There's a reason why, when flying, we're told to put on our oxygen masks first before helping others...

A life lesson from Ted Lasso. 

The EGPS Vision of a Graduate

Lately, I've been involved in a lot of discussions about test scores, the colleges our EGPS graduates have attended, and points earned on Advanced Placement exams. It hasn't sat well with me, primarily because of the quote attributed to President Theodore Roosevelt: "Comparison is the thief of joy." All week, I've been trying to ground myself in something deeper for our students and this community, and I realized it was right in front of me: The Vision of a Graduate. 

It was developed before I began serving as Superintendent of Schools, and it is the roadmap for what we expect of our graduates. There are four components: 

• Knowledgeable: Students learn factual, conceptual, and content-based understandings across a variety of academic disciplines. Through "knowledge" our graduates have the ability to transfer content knowledge to a variety of familiar and unfamiliar environments, situations, challenges, and an evolving sense of self and others, within a local and global context. 
  
  
  
  
  
• Connected: Students understand and value connecting with a diversity of people, environments, and perspectives. Through "connections" our graduates embrace the capacity of their individual and collective purpose and action to fully leverage their impact on the interconnected workings of life and the world. 
  
  
  
  
  
• Reflective: Students routinely think about their knowledge, skills, emotions, connections to others, and personal histories and apply their insights to future situations, endeavors, and learning. Through "reflection" our graduates use an evolving understanding of who they are, what they are capable of, how they can positively impact and fit into the lives of others - ultimately taking control of and responsibility for satisfying intrinsic motivations to make a difference with their lives. 
  
  
  
  
  
• Skilled: Students demonstrate diverse skill sets enabling them to communicate effectively, solve problems creatively, think critically, and collaborate meaningfully with others. Through "competency" our graduates have the skills and dispositions necessary to harness and use knowledge of a variety of disciplines, of others and of themselves, to pursue current and future goals in order to find their place in the world. 
  
  
  

There is no mention of test scores, although the EGPS vision includes being able to take knowledge from one conceptual base to another. The expectation is that our graduates will use their skills across a variety of disciplines to "find their place in the world." 

There is no mention of the specific colleges our graduates will go to or that they go to a college at all. This vision does speak to building connections, not specifically where, so that their impact on this world is shaped by their "individual purpose." 

There is no mention of Advanced Placement exams, though some of the analysis and problem-solving necessary for demonstrating success on an AP exam are named. The purpose of those are specifically to ensure that our graduates find their place in this world. 

The reflection I did to return to the Vision of the Graduate is an effort to help our graduates find "intrinsic motivations to make a difference with their lives." 

I live in the real world, and I understand that we must continue to assess our students meaningfully and authentically, so that they have the opportunity to demonstrate their abilities for whatever their next step after EGHS will be. Perhaps it is a four-year college. Perhaps it is a two-year college. Perhaps it is military service. Perhaps it is a job. 

I am turning fifty this week, and one of the realities that I work hard to articulate for my own children, one of whom is a junior and serious about going to college, is that we can't always put a number on what is important. It took me three tries to break 1000 on the SAT in the late 80s and early 90s. I was told I would not get into the college of my choice because of those scores. My mother still has all of my report cards in a shoe box in the attic of the home I grew up in. 

I have lived for a half-century. I am in love with My Wife, of more than twenty years. I have two children I am proud of. I have friends that I could call and they would come at the drop of a hat. I have a job that doesn't feel like work, surrounded by people who share the same educational values that I do. 

I want EGPS students to be knowledgeable, connected, reflective, and skilled. And I want them to be happy, to find love, have good friends, and do meaningful work in the world. 

You can't put a number on that. 

Because of Unified Sports

I had the privilege and honor of watching a Unified Volleyball game at East Greenwich High School last week. What a gift that time was. Unified Sports brings out the best that humanity has to offer. 

Students eligible for special education play with typically developing peers (partners) on the same court. There are officials, scores are tallied, and in the case of volleyball, they rotate with the same regularity as you saw in the Summer Olympics in Paris. The differences are subtle but meaningful. 

• Unified athletes can serve from anywhere on the court. Partners have to serve behind the service line. 
  
  
• Unified athletes are given the benefit of a do-over. Partners are not afforded that same grace. 
  
  
• Unified athletes (perhaps) get a little more coaching than their partners. What I noticed, though, was that our coaches ensured that when our partners were serving, they were "aiming" for the partners on the other side of the net!

The stands at EGHS were packed that evening, and those in attendance cheered for both the EGHS athletes and the Exeter-West Greenwich athletes. The loudest and most raucous sounds came from the volleys that went back and forth several times. It didn't matter who got the point, as everyone recognized the significance of the focus and concentration this took for all the athletes. 

Our EGHS partner students called out the names of their unified peers when setting them for a winning shot. The celebrations when a unified athlete scored were loud and included the student's name. For both EGHS and E-WG, truly, that day, everyone was a winner. 

When I was interviewing for this position two and a half years ago, there was a student panel at the high school. For the first time in my career, one of the students in the room had a visible disability. Perhaps others had an invisible one, but in all my years of interviews with students, I had never encountered an interview panel like the one here in EG. It was my first concrete example that here, "All Means All." 

I was reminded recently that the word "educate" comes from the Latin root word "educere," which means to lead out. A real element of education is to ensure that our students feel safe, welcomed, and included when they come to school so they can learn to their fullest potential. Learning to one's fullest potential means making mistakes along the way. If our buildings are not safe places for mistakes, we will never draw out the unique strengths and potentials of our district's more than 2400 students. 

Our Unified Sports are not about perfection. They're not about keeping score. They're certainly not about winning. They're about the greatness in each one of us. Honoring that greatness and getting better a little bit at a time. 

A life lesson I was reminded of last Tuesday in the gym at 300 Avenger Drive. With thanks to Patty Carrosoto, the EGHS Unified Volleyball Team, and their counterparts from Exeter-West Greenwich. It was a special evening.  

Unified Athletics is a glimpse of the best we can be. 

Like Riding a Bike

I listened to the late Sir Ken Robinson's TED Talk about education more than ten years ago. Sadly, it wasn't in person, but it was stunning nonetheless. He discussed the factory model in education, which we still have to this day. Here's a clip of the most salient points (less than one minute long). If you want the entire talk, click here (it is almost twelve minutes long but well worth it). Thank you to YouTube for both of those clips. 

For some reason, that was in my head when I saw this tweet earlier this month from Brad Johnson (@DrBradJohnson): 

Dr. Johnson and Sir Ken Robinson are on to something here regarding the reality of education. It's not about churning out results like a factory. It's about creating a safe, welcoming, and inclusive place where all students can grow and learn to their potential, making mistakes along the way. It's not about output. It's about input. 

The goal is growth and mastery, not just good grades. We want our students to be better this year than they were last year and to grow even more next year. We want them to make mistakes, learn from them, and not make the same mistake twice. Consider the following examples: 

• How many people learned to ride a bike the first time training wheels were taken off? I would offer that some did, but most of us didn't. I distinctly remember my dad running behind me on a dead-end street in the neighborhood where I grew up many, many times. It wasn't until I learned how to master the balance, pedaling, braking, and turning that I didn't need his support. There were plenty of falls, skinned knees, and hands in the process. To this day, I still know how to ride a bike. 
  
  
• How many people didn't pass their driver's license road test the first time? I passed my first time, but it took me (and my parents) a long time to even think I was ready to sit for this high-stakes, real-world assessment. A couple of my friends did not pass the first time but got specific feedback about the skills they needed to hone before returning to test again. Even if it took more than one try, those friends passed and still have their licenses. 
  
  
• Final example: What happens if you don't pay your federal taxes by April 15? Do the feds give you a zero and wait around to see what you do next year? No - you pay a fine and get a six-month extension. In one of the most basic tenets of our society, extensions are given when deadlines are missed. 

The education process is complex, nuanced, and full of grey areas. It's not like a factory where one size fits all, and we can predict the outcomes simply because of the assembly line our students are on. The educators in East Greenwich Public Schools are constantly tinkering, adjusting, fine-tuning, tweaking, and pruning the lessons our students engage in daily. Planning, delivering, assessing, and then reviewing a topic in a classroom is a professional commitment to the variety of learners and learning styles in our six buildings. 

Do we get it right every time? Nope. Do our students get it right every time? Nope. But we start over again, learning from that day's teachable moments, promising not to make that same mistake again. Both students and teachers. 

Just like riding a bike. 

Did I Stutter?

Still, I can almost smell the movie popcorn, drenched in that fake, goopy, non-butter butter. That day in 1983 when my dad took my brother and me to see Return of the Jedi in the movie theater. For a long time, I still had the stub from the ticket. Remember when there were actual tickets to gain entry to events?

The drumbeat. The blare of the trumpets. The 20th Century Fox Fanfare. Then a pause... Then, the words Star Wars, followed by the crawl that brought you up to speed as to the details of the movie you were about to see. It was thrilling. 

Within that movie's first two minutes, we meet Darth Vader. First, we only see boots, and as the camera pans up, clad in all black, we fully take in one of the villains of this movie. Before we even hear his voice, the sound of the breathing apparatus fills the silent void. But then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, "You may dispense with the pleasantries, Commander. I am here to put you back on schedule," boomed from the helmeted figure. Voiced, of course, by the late James Earl Jones. 

Mr. Jones was in so many movies that I loved. Of course, the original Star Wars trilogy. I once proudly owned all three (Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back, and Return of the Jedi) as a boxed set of VHS tapes. Many a college evening was spent crowded in a dorm room, rewatching them while surrounded by friends. I also loved The Sandlot, The Lion King, any of the Thomas Clancy books-turned movies, The Hunt for Red October, Clear and Present Danger, and Patriot Games. Who could forget his role in Field of Dreams? Mr. Jones was clearly a gifted and talented actor both on stage and in front of a camera. 

In reading about his life recently, I came across a few things about him I never knew: Mr. Jones was abandoned by his parents when he was quite young and sent to live with, and these are his words, "a very racist grandmother." The rejection by his mother and father and the reality of his grandmother's racism resulted in substantial emotional distress for Mr. Jones, which led him, as a child, to stammer and then ultimately to stutter.  By the age of 8, he stopped talking altogether, passing notes in school to communicate. 

It wasn't until high school that a teacher, Donald Crouch, made a connection with Mr. Jones. Mr. Crouch recognized that Mr. Jones had a talent for poetry and encouraged him to write. Then, with Mr. Crouch's encouragement, Mr. Jones stood before his class and tentatively read some of the lines he wrote. Eventually, Mr. Jones grew to recite poetry daily, joined the debate team, and no longer stuttered. While the effects of this disability never entirely went away, Mr. Jones credits learning to control his stutter leading to his career as an actor: 

"In a very personal way, once I found out I could communicate verbally again, it became a very important thing for me, like making up for lost time, making up for the years that I didn't speak." 

All because of a teacher who made a connection, who saw something in Mr. Jones, and together, they discovered what was inside a child who did not speak. 

I wrote about the magic of teaching in this blog just a few weeks ago. This is what I'm talking about. As we reflect on the teachers in our own lives who made this kind of difference, I'm certain that we can all name them—not because of what they taught but because of how they made us feel. 

For me, one of those teachers was Professor Robert Garvey, now retired from the College of the Holy Cross. In the fall of 1992, he convinced a very homesick and very overwhelmed first-year student that he could indeed do the work that was expected of him. To this day, I remember the words he spoke to me: "In my experience, the admission officers here rarely, if ever, make mistakes in terms of students' abilities to do the work." At the time, I wasn't believing in myself. But those words made a difference and inspired me, and because of that, Holy Cross remains one of my absolute favorite places in all the world. On Mt. St. James, I made lifelong friends, grew passionate about issues of social justice, and made a decision that led me to meet My Wife when I chose to volunteer after graduation. 

All because of a teacher who made a connection, who saw something in me. 

Who will that teacher be for the more than 2400 students that come through our doors daily? I cannot say for certain. I do know that when I walk the hallways of our buildings, and when I visit the classrooms and the spaces where teaching and learning happens in East Greenwich Public Schools, I see this magic happening. 

All because of teachers who make connections, who see something in their students. 

Reflecting on September 12

I was born on the island of Manhattan, in New York Hospital (which no longer exists), almost fifty years ago. I grew up in Mt. Vernon, New York, just a short thirty-minute train ride away. We drove into NYC occasionally, but it was usually the Metro-North Train. The ride was closer to twenty-five minutes into Grand Central Station if we got an express train. From there, you could literally get anywhere in The City. 

You could take the 4 train to Yankee Stadium, as I often did, or the 7 to Queens if you wanted to see the Mets. If you wanted to go to Brooklyn, you could take the 5 train and transfer to the C. Growing up, we would often take the S (shuttle) train to Times Square and then take either the 1 or the 9 train downtown. One of my best friends turned twenty-one late in January of 1996, and I distinctly remember a group meeting at the Houston Street stop. After the appropriate shenanigans that a group of 21-year-olds do to greet each other, we oriented ourselves by looking for a dual landmark on the Manhattan skyline: The World Trade Center. 

Please remember, this was well before cell phones were ubiquitous and well before the smartphone was invented. Whenever we went downtown, our parents would tell us to use the Twin Towers to figure out which way was south. We all did it. 

The aviation term was "severe clear" for New York City and the surrounding area on that terrible day twenty-three years ago last week. As someone with a solo pilot's license, I know it's a perfect day to fly, as it's a day with a bright blue sky and almost unlimited visibility. I was settling down in Boston with my first first-grade class. Twenty-four 5 and 6-year-old faces at my morning meeting when the building secretary entered my classroom. 

I stepped away from my morning meeting momentarily. She told me my brother had called the school to tell me that my parents were driving my grandmother into The City for a doctor's appointment. I didn't understand why I needed to hear about this. That was a regular routine in my family. When nothing registered on my face, the secretary, Betty Ann Lawrence, said, "You don't know what is happening in New York? We are under attack." 

My family made its way back to Westchester County safely that day. As soon as my dad heard the news on the all-news station that he listened to whenever he drove, he started making his way back. Fortunately, I did not know anyone personally of the almost 3,000 New Yorkers who lost their lives on that morning. Without a television in my classroom and my basic cell phone in 2001, I didn't know much until I got home that day. 

I took it all in. I was overwhelmed. I cried. 

But what I remember most about that time in my life was the aftermath. On September 12 and the following days that month and that year, the sense of unity that we had, just being the United States of America. The restart of sports, the first "this" and first "that" post-9/11. 

One of my dear friends posted this on social media on the Anniversary of 9/11 last week, and it really resonated with me: 

We don't need another tragedy to be better toward each other, and candidly, I hope we don't wait for one. We can do better by being just one inch kinder, one inch gentler, and one inch nicer to each other. That generosity of spirit has a ripple effect in our world. It really does. Hold the door. Let the other driver go first. Share willingly. We are all human beings doing our best in a world where there are so many claims to what is true and good. 

If you don't believe these little things make a difference, consider that legendary musician Jon Bon Jovi saved a woman's life this week. According to NPR, Bon Jovi, who was filming a music video in Nashville last week on a public bridge that remained open, noticed a woman standing nearby on the outside ledge of the bridge. The singer and another member of his team approached. Bon Jovi waves. The woman returns his gesture of greeting. 

In the seconds that follow, Bon Jovi and his staffer get the woman to turn around. They continue talking. They ultimately help her over the railing and back to safety. Then they hug. 

Just one human to another. 

On Teaching and Learning

Thanks to starting school on the last Tuesday of August and having Monday off for Labor Day, we have yet to experience our first five-day week of this new school year. We won't this week, as Tuesday was Primary Day in Rhode Island. That said, our educators have been planning and preparing for our children's return long before these first official weeks of school. And by educators, please know that I mean every single employee in East Greenwich Public Schools: From Facilities to Food Service, Technology to Temporary Substitutes, Leadership to Long-Term Substitutes, and Paraeducators to Payroll, it takes every employee to make it possible for the magic to happen in the classrooms. 

Make no mistake about it, what happens in our classrooms in EG is magical. Yes, there's hard work involved and sometimes a little luck, but truly consider what it takes to be in a classroom in 2024. I saw the following graphic from the group Teach English on Facebook, and it captures the reality of education: 

The "What Teaching really is" list includes ten more items than just teaching itself. Add to that list the expectation that we reach all of our students and that a lesson rarely resembles "one size fits all," nor do lessons today look anything like how I learned K - 12. Or, for that matter, what lessons looked like when I was a first-grade teacher in 2001. Nor does this take into account the reality that we are still feeling the ripple effects of the pandemic in our day-to-day lives, and you can begin to comprehend the level of commitment our professional educators make to the more than 2,400 students who come to our buildings every day in East Greenwich Public Schools. 

It is natural to rely on our own experience of education when we think about Teaching and Learning. Without question, we can all name our favorite (and least favorite) teachers. More than likely, not for what they taught but for how they made us feel. Still, education is constantly evolving as we learn more and more about what constitutes best practice in education, and we tweak our professional skills to reflect that. Since almost everyone has gone through K - 12 classrooms as students, it's natural to think that we can critique it and offer feedback, having had the experience. That's akin to saying that I got my haircut last week at DelVecchio's on Main Street - want me to cut your hair? 

Yes, we have this community's most precious resources in our buildings on a daily basis. Yes, parents are the experts on their children, at home. We are the experts on how to best educate them when they're in our buildings. Our goal is to create a partnership to ensure that all students feel safe, welcomed, and included when they come to school in EGPS. If that's the case, they can learn to their fullest potential, making mistakes along the way. 

We are #BetterTogether. 

Be the Good Samaritan

One of our sons was driving to work this past summer when he realized he was having car trouble. The car recovered, but at the next intersection, the car died. Unfortunately, he was not entirely through the intersection when it happened. What did he do? He called me. 

It's one of those calls you don't want to get as a parent because there's literally nothing you can do but try to talk them through it. I asked all the relevant questions. Yes, he was OK. Yes, he had turned it off and tried to start it again. No, the dashboard had no lights on to alert him to a specific problem. I was about to put him on hold to call AAA when he told me someone was approaching the car. 

I will be honest: I was initially worried when he told me that. Who was this individual? Was this going to be a stranger trying to take advantage of the situation? Instead of AAA, should I call the police? 

It was clear almost immediately that this was someone trying to help. Through the phone, I overheard this individual tell our son to put the car in neutral (I didn't even think of that), and he helped him push the car out of the remainder of the intersection. As they pushed the car together, the engine caught, and our son was able to bring the vehicle to our service station. 

Three things happened in that brief exchange between Patrick and a stranger:

• The stranger showed kindness, by stopping what he was doing and stepping in to help. 
• The stranger showed empathy, sharing with Patrick that it had happened to him before, and he knew what it felt like. 
• The stranger showed compassion, when Patrick admitted he didn't know what to do. He taught him how to move a car when the engine dies. 

At our Welcome Back Convocation at East Greenwich High School on Monday, August 26, I shared with all EGPS employees that this year, we are about greatness, not perfection. Perfection is impossible to attain, but greatness is within reach. Specifically, I offered that we all could be great if we demonstrated kindness, empathy, and compassion to our students, each other, and the families we serve in this community. I used the following examples: 

• For kindness: In the Summer Olympics, during a preliminary heat of the 100-meter dash, a South Sudanese runner fell to the ground in agony. Before medics could arrive, a fellow competitor from Laos rushed to her side.
• For empathy: Our Director of Student Support Services, Neil Marcaccio's father, passed away. He told me he received more than 150 handwritten notes and cards. 
• For compassion: I witnessed a hug between strangers at the grocery store after a tall stranger kept a short stranger from climbing the shelves to get an item that was out of reach. 

None of these moments I've described were Herculean efforts. Yet, they all made a difference in someone else's life. We are better together when we remember the humanity of others. 

This year, be the Good Great Samaritan. 

On Graduation

Since this is only the second time I've addressed graduates of East Greenwich High School, I sought some advice as to what I should say to all of you. I recently heard a sound bite from a commencement address that got my attention. The sound bite came from the remarks that Denzel Washington gave in 2011 to the University of Pennsylvania. Denzel Washington grew up in Mount Vernon, New York. I grew up in Mount Vernon New York. Denzel Washington graduated from Fordham University. I graduated from Fordham University. Mr. Washington and I have a lot in common, in fact, between the two of us, we have two Oscars! Not bad for two kids from Mt. Vernon…

All kidding aside, he gave some great advice. But the best part of his remarks, according to Mr. Washington, came from his wife, Pauletta, when she told him, “To get something you never had, you have to do something you never did.”

To get something you never had, you have to do something you never did.

You are all preparing to do something never did this coming fall and whether it's a gap year, a job, the armed services, college, or something else, you will have to grapple with this question: How, then, shall you live meaningfully in a world where there are so many claims to what is true and good.

So, if you will indulge me for just a few minutes, I would like to offer two bite-sized pieces of advice to help you to find your answer to that question. Because the answer to that question will be as individual as the 174 of you are. My thoughts for all of you is this: 1. Be kind or, at the very least, be decent.

Be kind, or at least be decent. In whatever you do, wherever you go, whoever you meet. Be one inch kinder, one inch more decent. I assure you that I did not coordinate my remarks with Justice Stern, but if you listened carefully to his remarks at Ivy Day, he said the same thing.

Be kind or decent – simple in concept but seemingly and somehow terribly tricky in our world today.

Consider the following: During a marathon in 2021, a Kenyan runner Abel Mutai was just short of the finish line when he got confused by the signage and stopped, thinking he had completed the race. Another runner from Spain, Ivan Fernandez, was right behind him and, realizing what had happened in front of him, shouted to the Kenyan runner to keep going.

As you might surmise, the Kenyan didn’t understand Spanish. So Fernandez pushed Mutai to victory.

After the race, a reporter asked Fernandez, "Why did you do this?"

He replied, "My dream is that one day we can have the kind of community life that pushes ourselves and others to win as well."

"But why did you let the Kenyan win?" the reporter insisted.

Fernandez replied, "I didn't let him win; he would win. It was his race."

The reporter pressed and asked again: "But you could have won!"

Fernandez looked at him and replied, "But what would have been the merit of my victory? What would be the honor of this medal? What will my mother think?"

I think Mr. Fernandez had a point.

Be kind. Or at the very least be decent.

My second piece of advice: serve others.

I am a huge fan of Aaron Sorkin, the playwright, screenwriter, and film director. He’s written for Broadway theater productions, feature length movies, and television. I’m paraphrasing him in this quote:

I like bands, more than solo acts. I like team sports more than individual sports. This is a wonderful place to come to work – it doesn’t feel like work. It feels like a team. When successful on a team, there’s someone to high five and celebrate with along the way. In failure on a team, it’s a little bit easier when someone’s in the foxhole with you.

He writes that way as well and in 2012, when all of the graduates today were somewhere learning how to read and write in first grade, one of his television shows debuted: The Newsroom, about the fictional Atlantis Cable News network and its team of reporters, anchors and producers took on actual news stories.

However, in the pilot episode, the main character Will McAvoy (played by Jeff Daniels) while on a journalizm panel at Northwestern University, goes on a rant, after a student during the Q & A asks: Why America is the greatest country in the world?

McAvoy excoriates her that it is not the greatest country anymore, though it once was. Since this took place in 2012, every student in this fictional audience has a cell phone, records the news anchor shouting at a college student, it goes viral and McAvoy is given a two week “vacation.” Upon his return though, he’s inspired to do better in his work, what he considers to be a public service. He’s asked at one point, “Is there something bigger we want to reach for, or is self-interest our basic resting pulse.”

Class of 2024, self-interest cannot be your basic resting pulse.

I offer to all of you today that you can reach for something, anything bigger, than self interest by serving others.

Your parents have served you, by choosing to live in East Greenwich, ensuring that you’d go to our public schools.

Your educators have served you, and by educators, I mean anyone you’ve encountered while in our district: Facilities, Cafeteria Staff, Office Administrative Assistants, Guidance Counselors, Social Workers, Paraeducators and the men and women whom we have tasked with making the vision of a Graduate a reality for you, your teachers. They do this by committing to countless hours that you never see. When you arrive to class and there’s an engaging, thoughtful, challenging lesson to be a part of, that is the result of a myriad of minutes that take place when you’re not there. Planning, executing, and assessing learning in the 21st Century is not for the faint of heart. Your teachers are nothing short of amazing.

Your leadership at EGHS has served you. Dr. Page earned a statewide distinction this year as Rhode Island’s best first year principal and Ms. Sylvia, in eight short months, has made her educational leadership clear to every single student who walks through the doors at 300 Avenger Drive. I know this for a fact because I get to spend the first thirty minutes of my week with EGHS as a part of Class Block. What a gift to a superintendent who misses the classroom.

Every single person in this room, besides you graduates, have reached for something bigger, by serving you, Class of 2024. And now it’s your turn.

To close the loop on my reference to The Newsroom, there’s a Sorkin-esque bow on this scene with the college student. As it turns out, being yelled at by Mr. McAvoy did nothing to deter this young woman. She followed the change in his path, and ultimately applied for an internship at Atlantis Cable News. It was long enough after the original incident that McAvoy forgot about her and when he saw her in their conference room interviewing, he couldn’t place her right away… but once he did, he rushed to confront her during her interview.

After asking the recent graduate if she indeed was the one who asked the question that caused his rant that changed the trajectory of his professional world, McAvoy asks why she’s there.

When she responds she wants to be a part of the public service she sees in Atlantis Cable News, she wants to be a part of the decency happening in this fictional world. She is reaching beyond her self interest.

After a beat, McAvoy urges her to re-ask the original question she asked at Northwestern.

With some trepidation and hesitation, she looks up at him and asks, “What makes America the greatest country in the world.”

He responds: You do.

Congratulations EGHS Class of 2024!

Giving Thanks

As the calendar turns to June, we face the prospect of the dwindling days of Teaching and Learning, the lengthening of the amount of sunlight we see, and the reality that summer vacation is on the horizon. It's also a time for me to reflect on our academic year. As often happens, reflection for me turns to gratitude. 

I am grateful for the School Committee, which includes Chair Alyson Powell and Vice Chair Nicole Bucka, as well as members Clare Cecil-Karb, Will Hangan, Tim Munoz, Kevin Murphy, and Gene Quinn. They have navigated a challenging year thoughtfully while consistently putting student learning first. The relationship between a School Committee and the Superintendent of Schools is unique. I am their only employee, and yet, from time to time, I have to work with them to guide their actions. I am proud of our relationship, one that is highlighted by active listening and mutual respect. 

I am grateful for our Town Council, who recently allocated the most significant increase in funding to public education since 2007 - 2008 in EG. Their President, Mark Schwager, and Vice President, Mike Donegan, along with members Caryn Corenthal, Renu Englehart, and Mike Zarella, have, through their actions, not only with this budget but also through their support of the Master Plan and bond, demonstrated authentic support for the students, faculty, staff, and community of East Greenwich Public Schools. 

I am grateful for the Senior Leadership Team: Maggie Baker, Neil Marcaccio, Michael Podraza, Chris Scheib, and Bob Wilmarth. These Department Leaders help me prioritize Teaching and Learning while also attending to the district's day-to-day needs. Their wisdom, guidance, insights, and professional expertise are invaluable. Our meetings are often punctuated by humor, which is necessary when leading an organization the size of EGPS. 

I am grateful for our District Office staff, the people I see in the office daily. They are behind the scenes but have jobs critical to our district's operation. From administrative support to payroll, from federal title grants expertise to retirement gifts, from human resources to special education file management, these individuals handle significant issues with care and attention to detail. Several of us also play Wordle together, which is an added bonus!

I am grateful for our Building Leaders: Beth Cauley, Melissa Centracchio, Maryann Crudale, Dom Giusti, Pat Page, Dan Seger, Coleen Smith, and Molly Sylvia. They seamlessly operate buildings full of Teaching and Learning ensuring that All Means All is not just a catchphrase but a reality for our students. Against the backdrop of increasing student (and adult) mental health needs, a growing necessity of DCYF reports, as well as a student body still reeling from the effects of the pandemic, these educational leaders are partners with families. Our principals are the ones who grow, nurture, and cultivate environments where all students can feel safe, welcome, and included. When students feel those things, they can grow and learn to their potential. When students grow and learn to their potential, they know mistakes are OK. As adults we know that making mistakes is an invaluable part of the learning process. 

I am grateful for our Teachers and all the individuals who are included in that broad term (occupational therapists, speech-language pathologists, social workers, guidance counselors, and school psychologists). The last time I was a full-time teacher was more than twenty years ago. While I have kept a foot in that door of teaching, when I visit buildings, I witness how difficult this work is and the magic that is happening in classrooms regularly in EGPS. Our teachers are nothing short of tremendous, and I am so proud to celebrate them!

I am grateful for our Paraeducators, some of whom work with our students who have substantial needs. Their work is characterized by empathy, patience, compassion, and, in many cases, love. The care they show is, in a word, beautiful. We are incredibly fortunate to have such kind individuals working alongside our teachers in our buildings on a daily basis. 

I am grateful for our Athletics Department. While only a department of two, these individuals give our student-athletes a place to shine when they're not in the classroom. Maintaining academic standards is critical to their success and we have the championship hardware to prove it. Of particular importance to East Greenwich is our Unified Sports Program, teaching lifelong lessons about relationships, people, and selflessness. Perhaps even more important than our championship banners is the reality that both Cole Middle School and East Greenwich High School are National Unified Champion Schools. 

I am grateful for our Facilities Personnel. Our data shows substantial improvement in the cleanliness of our buildings, which is a result of the stewardship from this group of professionals. It is a thankless job, caring for and maintaining buildings six buildings, five of which are older than I am. Still, these dedicated individuals show up every day and show us that these Teaching and Learning spaces matter, not just the classrooms but the hallways, cafeterias, and gymnasiums. 

I am grateful for our Technology Staff. No one calls them to say, "Thank you, the internet is working today." But you can be sure that their phones are ringing off the hook when it's down. They maintain not only our network but also all the EGPS devices in the hands of our students and adults. It is a task that is growing in complexity because of the intersection of education and technology. In addition, the reality of cybersecurity puts significant demands on this department as well. 

It truly does take a village and I am very fortunate to be leading this one in East Greenwich. I wish all our students, faculty, families, and school-year staff a restful and relaxing summer!

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