A couple weeks ago, a colleague and I had the chance to guest lecture a class of pre-service teachers.  This group of approximately 30 college students are in their last semester before heading in to student teaching.  They are excited and they are eager to start their careers.  And they are so optimistic.

We had the chance to teach a lesson on anything we wanted so we decided that we would focus on instructional tools.  We spent the first 90 minutes modeling a lesson that employed both a Back Channel and Padlet.  Then we spent the 2nd half of class discussing the utility of instructional tools, how content must still remain at the core of the lesson, and what this can all look like once assembled for your students.  As a side note, we even developed the entire lesson for the class from our different homes using collaboration tools within Google.  We were truly modeling what can occur using technology.  Finally, we shared the need for these future teachers to begin their professional learning now, even before they are professionals.  Twitter chats, podcasts, and other items were shared as means to develop a Professional Learning Network (PLN).    It was a great experience and we were jazzed to enter the classroom.

The students greeted us warmly as they had been prepped by their usual lecturer for us and would surely represent him well.  We entered the room certain we would inspire, confident we would bring new learning to their world, and convinced that the pupils would end the lecture with the ultimate praise – the slow clap.

Our takeaway turned out to be something quite different.  While the lesson went well and the students were engaged, the tools were new to them.  And so they found each one novel and spent some time chatting with neighbors about how they could be used in student teaching.  Everything was going as planned.  The 2nd half of class found them interested and asking questions.  Surprisingly they were not familiar with Twitter and certainly had not yet constructed a professional account.  The class ended a bit early (always popular), and though there was not a slow clap, they did thank us for the learning.  It was thumbs up all around.

I am the principal of the largest high school within the Houston ISD.  Our school was in Phase One of the district’s PowerUP initiative, and thus we have been a 1:1 campus for just under three years.  Students have a laptop 24/7 and we have supported our teachers as they also transform their instructional strategies.  The content remains critical – the device is a tool.  And as I spend each spring and summer looking to hire new faculty members to the team, I am always in search of candidates that have experience working with instructional tools, operating with a Learning Management System (LMS), and that are willing to embrace 21st century learning trends.  As my partner and I were debriefing as we closed down and walked to the car, an alarming piece of learning emerged for us.  And as we reached the edge of campus and could see our car under the parking lot lights, we both came to the same conclusion.  Student teachers were not learning how to teach in a 1:1 or blended learning model.  They weren’t having modeled for them the ways in which tools can enhance the content and learning.  And thus they were possibly leaving a full teacher prep program without directed experience using the exact resources that employers would be seeking.

Yes, we were operating with a single experience in one class, however it made us wonder how well are teachers being prepared for what we know is to come.  At the same time there was this other reality:  That my experience is not the norm.  I don’t mean that as a gesture toward being exceptional; rather that my school is not a typical large public school.  It isn’t (yet) the standard for a school to issue 3600 student laptops each year.

So I began to wonder how much the tools and modes for accessing and demonstrating learning that we work hard to avail our students of are then lost upon them once they enter the college/university level.  Aside from the use of an LMS, how much are professors making use of different tools?  How much progress is happening?  Will the tipping point come from the K-12 model or the post-secondary setting?  Or will supply & demand prevail?  I really don’t know and thus it makes me have doubt in the whole enterprise.  And that’s scary as I have seen, with my own eyes, in classrooms I frequent, the power behind this new means of learning.  It’s too important to “wait & see” yet that is an easy stance to take.  Where does the sense of urgency originate?  How does the match take fire?

This is hard work.  And it cannot be done alone.  I would love to hear from others how they are approaching this new frontier.  Are you a principal and about to embark on this path?  Are you a teacher that is exploring?  A student teacher about to step out on this skinny branch?  Or are you working on the University level and wondering where to begin?

 

 

 

 

Recently my school, in collaboration with a local elementary & middle school, set up a screening of Most Likely To Succeed.  This edu-documentary is focused on 21st century learning and how we need to change how school is organized and works for kids.  It uses High Tech High from San Diego as it’s example of what can be.  Sir Ken Robinson, Tony Wagner, Ken Jennings, & Watson the computer all weigh in on the topic.  The movie has many strong arguments that are worth exploring.

The content of the movie isn’t my focus.  There is a scene at the beginning where we see a 4th grade girl sitting in a traditional classroom.  She is the daughter of the narrator, and as he begins to explain to us that she has grown disinterested in school, we flash forward to a scene where the girl is in a conference with her mother and the teacher.  The young girl is upset as she is not doing well in school, doesn’t enjoy attending, and surely feels like she is disappointing the adults.  As the teacher waxes on about building a strong work ethic now and that the young girl shouldn’t want to waste her time in class, this blonde youngster with the angelic face looks at the camera.

Frozen on her face is clearly some emotion.  And at that moment, the director offers something along the lines of this:  “I know that face.  What my daughter is thinking right now is that this is Bull Shit!  All of this is Bull Shit!”

In one week, my freshman daughter will celebrate her 15th birthday.  She has transitioned to high school much smoother than I anticipated.  Her classes are challenging and she is getting stronger with time management.  And each day as I drive her to school in the morning, I focus on merely keeping the conversation going.  I have worked in secondary schools for nearly 25 years, and I know that at any instant a teenager can tune you out.  It may last a few minutes or a few weeks.  On this particular morning, my daughter was in one of those generous moods where she was talking a lot and sharing a lot about what was on her mind.  And this morning, in particular, she was discussing “the real world.”

She said, “dad, it gets real old to have teachers tell us all the time about what it will be like in the real world.  Or that they have to prepare us for the real world.  Don’t they realize that the present world, the right now, is what matters most to us?  And that maybe they should focus on what is most pressing now?  I don’t want to hear about the real world when I need help now.”

So as I reflect on the movie screening, my car chat with my daughter, and a recent article I read on the effective 21st century leader, there is one word that keeps popping up in my mind – empathy.  And the manner by which I try to employ empathy is via a couple strategies that I want to share.

 

First, we need to listen.  I mean actively listen to what these young people are offering.  Maybe it’s a struggle at home, or an overloaded schedule (perhaps constructed by parents), or maybe it is a genuine lack of interest (i.e. the young girl from the movie).  The point is that we should be there to help them find the words to describe what they are feeling.  Resist the chance to diagnose it for them.  Empower them to articulate their own feelings.  This offers dignity and respect.

Second, we can affirm what they are feeling.  And I suppose that what I mean by that is to let them know it is okay for them to own their feelings.  Sharing something like, “that must be really frustrating”, or “I am sorry you are dealing with that.”  While I can’t really apologize for circumstances and I can be sorry someone is facing them.  I think that too often we try and “solve” the situation for them.  I know this happens to me as taking off that “principal hat” isn’t always easy to do.  “Give me an example of what you mean”, is a phrase I find myself using  when I am able to remove the principal hat, and actually put on my father cap.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Each of us had adults tell us that they were “preparing us for the real world”, and that we would end up thanking them later.  I remember not heeding that advice very often, and I think I ended up okay.  I am sure there were struggles that maybe I could have avoided however those experiences have also led to the development of who I am now.

My point is that when we can empathize with these young people, regardless of whether they are family or not, then maybe we have a better chance to really connect with them.  To actually be present in the moment with them when it counts the most.  And let’s be honest, more so than ever, we really don’t know what the “real world” will look like for them.  Maybe the young girl from the movie is right and we are full of shit.  So maybe our best next move is to slow down, listen, be honest, and honor their current reality.  I’m not a betting man but I know that is my best wager.

About six months ago I joined the “vinyl revolution”.  My old record player came out of hiding and I started to hit the used book stores and flea markets for LPs from my past.  Fortunate to find Cat Stevens, U2, Bob Dylan, Billy Joel, & Elton John, and others, I started to play records each day.  The crackle and richness of the recording led me to agree that “records really do sound different.”  I was also quickly reminded of having to get up and flip the record, having to keep the needle clean, and having to deal with a song that got stuck and just repeated the same note over and over.  Maybe it was a scratch or an imperfection.  I would diligently look and hope it was neither.  I suppose the needle merely found itself in a groove for which it could not break through and continue the song.  And it needed a nudge from me.  I obliged, and the song continued and never looked back.

The role of Principal can sometimes include “walking a tightrope”.  We filter directives and initiatives from central office so as to make sure they are supportive and not disruptive to the campus program.  We support teachers while also advocating for students.  And we consider the best means to share with the larger community the good and bad that happens on campus.  And when we are at our best we do all of it with patience, respect, and wisdom.  It’s tough.  And it’s the best job I have ever had in my life.

I recently had a senior email me as she was struggling with a decision that had been made by the school newspaper sponsor and student editorial staff.  This young lady had already reached out to her counselor and was still in need.  As I always do, I replied and made myself available to chat with her at lunch to see how I might be able to assist.  And as the conversation continued, I could quickly see that she was stuck.  Simply stuck.

I spoke with her about 3 or 4 outcomes that could exist.  The 1st option was best case, the 2nd was worst case, and the other two were possible new ideas.  We chatted about which ones she thought she could do – words she thought she could organize when she met with the teacher and the leadership board for the newspaper.  We also brainstormed how she might handle it should the outcome not be as she hoped.  Finally, she got excited about the new possibilities that could emerge, and our mutual zeal about those novel ideas led her to leave my office with a fresh sense of hope.

Now at the same time, I had a teacher that I knew I needed to support.  I had to try and articulate that my role with the student was to coach her toward finding her own resolution to the conflict.  I was not offering consultation in the form of specific next steps, or a formula for “getting what she wanted.”  And I was not meeting with the student so as to “make” the newspaper leadership change their mind and approve the story.  Instead, I was making myself available to a student who simply couldn’t move forward.

Part of our responsibility as campus leaders is to build skills and talent within our students.  Walking the fine line between directing and coaching can be tricky.  The student may take the advice from the adult as direction.  The faculty or staff member may see it as undermining a decision or their authority.  Yet I argue that there is a middle ground here.  Similar to the record player that sometimes can’t move forward with the song, I enjoy the chance to “nudge” a young person so that they may continue.  The path they will follow is theirs to choose, and the outcomes they will own.

By the way, this past Friday, the student emailed me to update me on the situation.  She had made her best argument, and a new outcome had emerged – one neither of us even considered.  And it is brilliant.  Finally, the student included in her email the following:

“I would also like to say thank you for giving me advice in a situation where I didn’t know who to turn to. I appreciate the options you gave me and the listening ear as well.”

C’mon!  Does it get any better than that for an educator?  Let the music play on!

So as friends of mine have posted about David Bowie and the impact he had on their lives, the power his music and performances brought to their creative sides, I was immediately reminded of a lyric that always resonated with me.  Perhaps it’s because it’s from a John  Hughes movie that came out in my High School years – The Breakfast Club.  This lyric from Changes that was used then has often served as a reminder of what my middle school and high school students face and how easy it is for “we the adults” to forget our own past.

I have worked in secondary schools for 24 years within a large urban school district.  I taught in schools within communities that were incredibly poor as well as within schools that had healthy diversity both economically & ethnically.  I have interacted with kids from every type of background and in nearly 1/4 century I have determined that it is absolutely true:  kids are kids.  And the challenges they face every day may come in new shapes and sizes, and definitely come at faster speeds with less time to react, yet these young people are just like we all were.  They’re all just trying to figure it out.

Generation X.  Generation Y.  Millennials.  It doesn’t matter the name we give them as each young person faces the struggles of a first crush, a friends betrayal, a family health issue, and the seemingly never-ending quest to find their place in this world.  Yet too often adults – mostly those that do not work in education yet feel that since they went to school they must be experts on teenagers and their needs – are quick to reference days of past while chastising “today’s youth.”  And those taunts hurt me.  They strike at the work I love as an educator and they also offer a gut punch to role I play as a dad.

Students today have to process information at greater speeds then we did because we have created such a world.  It was not their decision to have information about them flying around at warp speed via achievement data, discipline data, nutrition, quiz grades, project completions, music choices, games they play, parties they attend, pictures they take, articles or videos they like.  People tell them that they must have grit and resiliency and the ability to overcome.  And at the same time another group of “wise adults” is telling them that they are not as good, that their schools are letting them down, and that their teachers are the problem.  And if they just went back to basics and sat at the dinner table, then somehow that would cure all the ailments they face.  Finally, for those young people that do push the envelope with new ideas or reach out to the world in new forms, the same adults often respond with a declaration that these youngsters don’t understand the “real world” and that they won’t be prepared for success.

My suggestion is to offer respect instead of advice.  That instead of talking to them we should instead be quiet and listen.  Some will struggle to find the words they need and we can fill in those gaps.  Others may need guidance with how to channel emotion and we can support that.  Speaking about the 3500 students in my school everyday, I can say that the majority are more self-aware than any other generation.  So let us each approach them with an open mind and a commitment to respect the very real – often very raw – emotions they are feeling & world they are experiencing.  Then offer them the space and time to make their own decisions.  I know I have faith in them.

David Bowie may have been inspired to share such advice for other reasons however I think it is his background as an artist that brought him the clarity.  He was judged and evaluated in his prime as he morphed identities and challenged the norm.  And as tributes and applause have come forth after his death, I would argue that we add wise to the list of adjectives used to describe him.