Caring, Not Prying

I walked into the Office of Finance, Administration, and Operations, saw the empty desk, and immediately wanted to ask, "Where's name-of-employee?" But I didn't. When the superintendent asks where an individual is, some might think that it's being done out of more than just nice to know. 

I've never been that kind of leader because I've never had that kind of leader. I don't stand at the door with a clipboard and a stopwatch because no one has ever stood at the door with a clipboard and a stopwatch for me. I was able to do my best work with leaders who cared about my personal life, not just my professional life. So, I strive to be the kind of leader who cares about what happens to people when they are not at work. This is why when I see someone not at their desk, I wonder if they are OK, not where they are, and why they're not doing their job. 

We are trying to build a culture of caring in East Greenwich Public Schools for the students and for the adults. In educational leadership, we know that if you don't take good care of the adults, it's hard to expect them to improve educational outcomes for our students. I feel very fortunate that I've had experiences with educational leaders who have demonstrated with their words and with their actions that my personal life is just as important as my professional role. This doesn't mean that they have said yes to every request I've asked regarding my personal time. It does mean there have been enough instances in which I've made a request for consideration of my personal time that have been honored. 

Because that is the truth. We are humans before anything else that we do for work. We are then husbands and wives, daughters and sons, aunts and uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers, godmothers and godfathers. That comes before we earn any titles at work. I don't know anyone who has approached the end of their life and thought, "I wish I had spent more time at the office." 

And, this doesn't mean we can't have high expectations. You can care about people's lives outside of work and expect great things. When things get overwhelming, we can make adjustments. People have phenomenal capacity if they feel like who they are as a person matters just as much as what they do for work. 

It was just three short months ago when the East Greenwich community lost four people in the span of only a few weeks. When one of my dearest friends lost his father a couple of years ago, he taught me something that has stayed with me. We were sitting together a couple of months after his dad had passed away, and he said, "Ya know, Ricca, everyone was great right around the time of my dad's death and the funeral, and even a week or so after. But then they go back to their lives, and my dad is still dead." 

I'm confident the Zimmers, the Caseys, the Arnoffs, and the Houghtalings still feel the reverberations of those losses. I'm also sure that those close to those families are still struggling as well. While we do have to keep going, we can be mindful of those who are still feeling the weight of missing those members of our community. 

As we return from our Winter Recess, with spring on the horizon, I hope we can re-commit to seeing the humanity of those around us. Before they are students, our more than 2,500 kiddos are someone's sons and daughters. Before they are employees, our adults are someone's husband and wife, daughter and son, aunt and uncle, grandmother and grandfather, godmother and godfather.

In my experience, when you care about people's personal lives, they return that back to you with even more of a commitment in their professional world. 

Photo Courtesy of www.loveexpands.com

On Compliance

Last week, I met with a member of our Leadership Team in my office. This individual came in late, apologizing profusely, and sat down. As we started the conversation, this person apologized again and asked to go to the bathroom. I asked this individual to, first of all, stop apologizing and, of course, let them go to the bathroom. I sat back in my chair, stunned that another adult asked my permission to address a biological need. 

My mind wandered to a family dinner in the Ricca house several years ago when Our Boys were in elementary school. At one point in the meal, one of our young men (I won't tell you which one) asked if he could go to the bathroom. I looked at My Wife, an early elementary educator, before becoming a reading specialist and shook my head. What are we doing wrong in education, I wondered aloud, when my own child thinks he needs my permission to go to the bathroom... at home? 

As I thought more about that and waited for my Leadership Team member to return to our conversation, I thought of dear friends of ours who have a child who is on the autism spectrum. While their child has many gifts and talents, this young person struggles with communication. In an effort to blend in with the rest of the class, this little one follows directions, does everything that is asked of them in class, and in no way disrupts the learning environment. In short, their child is compliant. 

With all three of these examples, I wonder if we emphasize compliance too much in schools? If we do, what are the drawbacks? What are we really teaching? 

While this was all fresh in my mind, I saw this graphic on LinkedIn: 

With the caveat that this is only one social media platform's opinion, there is no mention of compliance. In fact, LinkedIn believes that adaptability is the most in-demand skill of 2024. None of the top ten are remotely close to compliance. 

Before you push back, please know I'm not suggesting that schools become the Wild West. We do need rules to ensure that the humans in our district are safe. We need guidelines to ensure that all students can access their education. Our students need to feel safe, welcomed, and included so they can learn to the best of their abilities and have the courage to make mistakes along the way. This means that we do have to respond to poor behavior. 

And there is a kernel of truth in what LinkedIn is offering us, especially in light of my reflections on compliance. Teachers are no longer the keepers of the content, given how ubiquitous smartphones are. When was the last time you argued over a piece of sports trivia or historical fact? We are all victims of the devices in our pockets or close by. 

Look around our world. We need problem solvers, not learners who are programmed to recite facts and figures. We need analysts, not learners, who can just tell us what caused the War of 1812 and how those factors won't be repeated in the next potential conflict. We need people who can work through differences, with learners who believe things antithetical to values others hold. 

Yes, we need our schools to be places that have predictability and routine. But that predictability and routine need to leave room for creativity, insight, and leadership. That predictability and routine need to leave room for student agency and choice. That predictability and routine need to allow for independent thinking and ideas that are out of the box. 

How do we distinguish between compliance and learning? That's what we have to wrestle with to ensure that our students and adults learn and grow to think for themselves. The future of our world depends on it. 

Not just when they can go to the bathroom. 

Photo Courtesy of www.sourceofinsight.com

Five Minutes

During President Clinton's inauguration in January of 1997, singer Jessye Norman sang a little longer than expected, causing the then-president-elect to be sworn in at 12:06 PM instead of noon. Historians noted that because then-Vice President Al Gore had already been sworn in to his position, that Gore was actually President of the United States from 12:00 PM - 12:05 PM. Gore said that under his presidency, "...the economy was strong, crime was low, and bi-partisan bickering was at an all-time low." 

It seems like such a small amount of time. How often have we texted someone, I'm running five minutes late. Whether or not that's accurate is almost irrelevant. Or we've asked someone if they can stay an extra five minutes after an event. Which undoubtedly turns into ten or more. 

Another perspective on this small amount of time comes from Scott McCreery, an American country singer who won the 2011 season of American Idol. His 2018 song, "Five More Minutes," explores this very theme. As eight-year-olds fishing, a sixteen-year-old hoping for a good night's kiss, and a senior in high school after playing his last football game, the lyrics tell us they all wanted five more minutes. 

For me, though, the most poignant verse came near the end when an eighty-six-year-old grandfather was near death, surrounded by family, "With so much left to say," McCreery too wanted five more minutes. I never got a chance to say goodbye to my own grandfather, whom I wrote about last year, as he passed away in his sleep in 1983. 

I have often contemplated the all-too-quick passing of time. Facebook has a way of doing this to me, as it reminds me of posts from years ago. It is, more often than not, the pictures of Our Children that impact me the most. Wasn't it just five minutes ago that we brought Patrick home from the hospital in Chicago? He will turn eighteen this year. It feels like only five minutes ago that Brendan was born, and we realized that we needed a slightly bigger home as a family of four. Brendan will be sixteen in May and will be learning how to drive. 

As an infant, Patrick, who came into the world almost three weeks early, was colicky and suffered from acid reflux. More than likely because his arrival was sooner than expected. It was a months-long process to identify that it was acid reflux, and those were long, tedious, stressful days (and nights). A dear friend at the time, who was a little further along in the parenting journey, told me something then that still rings true to me today: "The days are long, but the years are short." 

In our six East Greenwich Public Schools, we have more than 2,500 students, whose families are somewhere on their own parenting journey. Perhaps their children are in our Pre-Kindergarten program, just dipping their feet into our educational world. Maybe their children are second-semester seniors trying to figure out what the future holds. Or their children are on the verge of a transition within EGPS. From one of our two early elementary schools, preparing for their next one. Maybe their children are in Eldredge or Hanaford, wondering what life will be like at Cole. They may have an eighth-grader looking down Middle Road, thinking about that school on Avenger Drive. 

We are all doing our best with what we have in front of us. We are trying to do right by our families and, hopefully, at a job we love, so it doesn't feel like work. Our families are more important than anything else. How do I know this? Because if someone gave me five more minutes, I would spend it with them. 

And so would you. 

Photo courtesy of www.quotefancy.com