You might wonder how this school rates on test scores. The answer is it is doing OK–not as well as most of us would like, but well enough for us to continue refining, re-thinking, and revising how we serve our students and their families.

We have our difficulties just like any other complex organization, and we don’t always agree. We understand that and we find our support systems within the larger system. Somehow, it usually works.

Teaching: A State of Mind

Since November when I wrote that, I’ve tweaked it by applying the quality of munificence to instructional coaching. I’ve finally gotten past thinking of myself as a teacher–I’m a former teacher who is now an instructional coach. Those of you who have talked with me know I slip very easily into teacher-mode, so I’m still working on my self-talk to reinforce the distinct difference between teacher and coach.

The district professional development for all instructional coaches is strategies for cognitive coaching. Besides Planning and Reflecting conversations, cognitive coaching helps coaches recognizes States of Mind that support or inhibit a person’s ability to solve problems, clarify thinking, and increase resourcefulness.

The last district instructional coaches’ meeting focused on interdependence, one of the 5 states of mind. High school teachers work mostly in isolation. Teachers typically have to change their habitual mode of thinking to develop their interdependence with other adults in the school, in the district, and in the community.

Choosing to develop one’s interdependence requires thinking that leads to action that one doesn’t typically do. For example, how often does a teacher ask a colleague for advice, for suggestions, for criticism? How often has a colleague asked a co-worker how she or he manages time or books or behavior or anything else? How often do colleagues use meeting or collaboration time to discuss their hopes, goals, limitations, and strengths?

I’ve had a few conversations this week with teachers that have resonated differently with me simply because I’ve been paying attention to possible paths toward increased interdependence.

In the end, we all depend on each other to some extent. When someone needs help or a favor, we feel perfectly comfortable asking, and usually, help arrives without having to ask for it. Interdependence seems natural when someone is distressed. Interdependence can also seem natural when we deliberately notice incidents of interdependence.

Developing the interdependent habit has been extremely helpful for me. It reduces stress. It makes me feel connected. It makes my working life easier even though all signs are pointing to more stress undermining our capacity to function at our best.

Most people can feel increased stress before others notice it. Developing interdependence may help.

Paying attention to our regrets is just another marker of learning. For example, I still regret not taking art classes in high school. I thought I had to take all the “hard” classes to get ready for college.

I regret telling the truth a few times when it would have been much kinder to keep my mouth shut, but I learned some painful lessons about empathy. Actually, I regret telling the truth much more often than I regret telling a lie because I’ve learned that telling a lie to be kind is socially acceptable.

I think it’s fairly accurate that a person is more likely to regret not doing something than to regret doing something. Most of my regrets fall into the category of not doing something because I was too timid or too busy or too concerned about what other people might think. Those episodes of not doing something I wish I had done are significant influences on the kind of person I have become.

One of the great advantages of living several decades is that the number of regrets diminishes. When I hit 50, I felt so much more empowered to be and to do what felt best for me and to be much less concerned about what others expected of me. Another advantage of age is that the regrets of youth either melt away or there has been time and opportunity to rectify the damage.

Regrets can be debilitating like the cat who won’t sit on a stove after being burned one time. The cat over-learned its lesson because it never sits on a cool stove, either.

Living with no regrets is like cooking with no spice, a black dress with no jewelry, a swing set with no child. Such an existence is safe, solid, predictable, and pointless.

Remember the short play, “Waiting for Godot”? Worst play ever. Godot never shows up and everyone, including the audience, suspends their lives out of some insane idea they have to wait for whatever is supposed to happen. Don’t wait for stuff to happen. Make it happen. If you mess up, regrets will shore you up for a much fuller and vibrant life.

Remember the song, “Anticipation,” by Carole King? Anticipation is a trap. It’s passive. It spoils the actual experience which is inevitably tainted by its unrealistic anticipation.

I still have time to take piano lessons. To do some drawing and painting. To explore and to learn. What I don’t have time for is the anticipation of doing and being. Actually doing and being is the only way to go.

“Regrets, I’ve had a few. But then again, too few to mention.” There’s a song for everything.

I’m reading a lot of different stuff.

I’ve got a lot of opinions that keep changing so I’m not too anxious to publish my amorphous thinking.

I blog about education topics, but I haven’t been thinking about education as much as usual.

I’ve been tweeting my thoughts which for the most part summarizes my thoughts in 140 to 560 characters.

I haven’t done much of anything else, either. Just chilling out and taking up space and oxygen. Being a bystander instead of a participant.

But thinking is good. Withdrawing from the hubbub is good. Listening to what everybody else is saying is good. Watching what other people are doing is good.

Criteria for good:

• allows opportunities to update general and specific impressions
• sharpens listening skills
• smooths over sharp edges, polishes up neglected surfaces
• creates a new normal
• generates sense of well-being and comfort
• encourages sloughing off of worn-out, shriveled up, over-used thoughts and ideas that have gone stale and are starting to stink

I can barely remember what I thought was so darned important by the end of the first semester. See the above criteria for how that happened.

To maintain this current state of being I intend to avoid all people who are:

• oblivious
• driven
• sarcastic
• perky
• phony
• manipulative

Life’s too short to entertain such irritations. My tolerance level is much higher for other human foibles, but for my own sake, I know what to avoid in others as well as in myself.

What’s the shared value? The bottom-line value that is non-negotiable?

A man always has two reasons for doing anything: the good reason and the real reason. J.P. Morgan

The good reason for most educators is to hold students to a standard that is achieveable and necessary to be successful throughout life.

The real reason relates to why educators care about education at all. What values do all of us, teachers, support staff, administrators, counselors, and everyone else who shows up every day to contribute to the education of our kids–what values do all of us share?

The real reasons are likely too personal to share. I know I really don’t want to know everybody’s deepest emotional connection to teaching: too much information. But there are some assumptions that may be valid. I don’t know. I’m thinking out loud here.

Assumptions:

1. Every educator wants to make life better in a real way–not just more wealth, but more happiness.

2. Every educator believes he or she can make a difference with individuals and, over time, with society.

3. Every educator needs a locus of control that validates his or her world view.

4. Every educator understands the significance of public education in the life of every individual as well as in the future of our society.

How does curriculum support these values?

The teacher makes the call on this question. So it’s the teacher’s interpretation of the shared values that is reflected  in instructional delivery of the content, the assessments, the classroom activities, the lesson designs, and the classroom norms.

How does school district policy support these values?

Administrators make the call on this question. So it’s the administrators’ interpretation of the shared values that is reflected in the various departments: finance, human resources, transportation, curriculum and instruction, food and nutrition, extra-curricular options, graduation requirements, discipline code, special student services, and whatever else that does not occur to me at this moment.

How does community and parent involvement support these values?

Parents make the call on this question. Their responses are as varied as parent booster clubs and fund raising to charter schools to private schools to home schooling to legal action against districts for damages.

Community involvement impacts interpretation of these values through legislation, donations, and school boards.

What’s the real reason we all care so much that we say we need education reform even when change is so hard? What real reason do we all share?

Look to the assumptions. Then look at who interprets the meaning of the assumptions. Can a teacher who believes attendance matters just as much as creativity find common ground with the teacher who believes meeting standards matters more than attendance or the administrator who believes critical thinking matters the most or the special services specialist who believes personal relationships with responsible adults is more important than test scores?

Short answer: yes, if given opportunity and safety to discuss their shared values. The discussion nurtures tolerance and fosters understanding.

Wouldn’t it be nice if a teacher and an administrator and an office support person could appreciate the motivation of the other adults? Wouldn’t it be nice if you didn’t feel disrespected or under-valued because you understand why? And most importantly, wouldn’t it be nice if you knew in your heart that you could question decisions in the spirit of compromise and compassion?

Leaders, I believe, understand and practice the spirit of compromise and compassion.

I also believe leaders and potential leaders get so far from the lighthouse of their principles (thank you Stephen Covey), they shift into survival mode. It’s really hard to be compassionage and to compromise when you’re buffeted by wave after wave of criticism.

For example, the following infographic has been widely tweeted and viewed in the past week. The title, “Collapse . . .” is an interpretation. It is a lament of the collapse of a structure, public education before reform, rather than an indication of alternative interpretations of what the shared values look like.

The Collapse of Public Education

Henry Ford said, don’t find fault, find a remedy. I found this quote on brainyquote.com under the topic, “leadership.”

Leaders re-design interpretative applications of shared values. Leaders give opportunity for re-visioning, for re-tooling, for re-making structures more resilient to shifting tides.

What’s the real reason for education reform? Leaders reassure everyone that there is still a lighthouse to guide our decisions as we reform education in ways consistent with our values.

Who are the leaders in the reform movement? The ones who are determined to preserve the common values of public education.

How do they lead? By clarifying and reminding everyone of the real reasons we care.

Instructional coaching has been a part of my high school for 6 or 7 years. I’m in my 2nd year of coaching after last year of being half time teacher and half time coach. I worked with another half time coach who had been coaching here half time for a few years. Last year was like a transition year for me from teacher to coach.

As full time instructional coaching this year rolls into the “honeymoon is over” phase, I have been making some adjustments as are the building administrators. What high school coaching was in my high school is in the process of evolving into what coaching needs to be.

The internal dialogue I’m having revolves around defining my role. The confusion is in part from the amount of time I confer with administrators which appears that coaching is an arm of administration. The other source of confusion is that I’m on a teaching contract and I’ve been a teacher for 11 years in the same building I coach, so I’m still a teacher in my view but it’s not so clear to the teachers I’m now expected to coach.

Overall, coaching has been incredibly interesting, engaging, and humbling for me. Those are all good adjectives. Those are the kind of adjectives that reward my teaching career. So there’s no confulsion there.

The difference of changing from teenagers to adults has been mostly what I expected. The clarifications and adjustments have been reasonable and not a source of confusion for me or for building administrators.

The confusion comes when I’m offering professional development options to teachers who are expected to follow new district expectations. By offering help and support to adapt to these changes, it appears that the coach is the enforcer rather than the teacher willing and able to help.

The line between enforcer and support person has not been distinct enough for everyone to discern the difference. No one knew it would be that difficult. We know now and we are proceeding with more experience, more knowledge, and more flexibility.

That brings me back to me as coach. I’m still a teacher. I don’t want to be an administrator. I want to be a teacher. The administrators need me to be a teacher. We’ve worked out, in detail, modifications that allow me to be the teacher.

How did this get worked out so that we are all feeling OK about instructional coaching?

Short answer: munificence.

I’ve learned the power of munificence.

I’ll not become the enforcer or the expert on teaching. I have never and would never in the future claim to know better than the teachers I’m coaching. They’re some of the most skilled, dedicated, and passionate people I’ve ever known.

What I will become is a teacher of munificence, because the teacher heart just has to share. What I can offer is a reminder of the munificent nature of teaching as my colleagues and I do our best to improve instruction in ways required of us by our district, by our students, and by our own sense of needing to be good at what we do.

Munificence is my new favorite word. Munificence can open doors to communication; it can light the way out of the dark tunnel of frustration; it can calm the cacophony of bickering and dissent; and it can bring a teacher back into sync with his or her teacher heart.

This video explains why I like Charlie Brown. He sees life as it should be rather than as it is, especially on Thanksgiving. Charlie Brown Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving and may all your days be hopeful.

What does success look like?

How does one measure success?

When, if ever, does success become concrete?

Who determines the value of success?

Teachers are in the business of creating environments that support student success. That’s what we do. Teachers are successful when our students succeed. Seems simple enough until you step into a classroom.

What does success look like?

Teachers want their students to succeed. Parents want their children to succeed. Students want to succeed.

To a teacher, success looks like engaged students passionate about learning. Students do well on quizzes and tests; they ask good questions, they are pleasant and enthused, and they show initiative and responsibility to do their best.

To a parent, the child is learning enough to get good grades, and the child likes school.

To a student, he or she feels competent, accepted, and confident.

Here’s the difficulty: where are the measures of success? How do you quantify passion, goodness, enthusiasm, initiative, responsibility, acceptance, and confidence?

How does one measure success?

We measure what we can: tests, quizzes, and attendance.

When, if ever, does success become concrete?

In education, we reward successful students in athletics, in academics, in citizenship, in attendance, in leadership, in music, speech, and other extra-curricular activities that participate in contests or other observable and measurable results. Graduation speeches often revolve around the idea of something like everyone is successful for graduating. It is measurable–credits, grades, and attendance.

Abraham Lincoln’s quote, “Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any one thing,” sounds like a consolation prize to the “losers.”

Emily Dickinson’s poem gives us another take on the same idea that success is understood more fully by the “defeated’ than by the “victors.”

Success is counted sweetest/By those who ne’er succeed./To comprehend a nectar/Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple Host/Who took the Flag today/Can tell the definition/So clear of victory

As he defeated–dying–/On whose forbidden ear/The distant strains of triumph/Burst agonized and clear!

The war setting of the poem puts success into measurable terms: if you’re dead, you don’t succeed. The implication is that a life lived for success doesn’t provide the individual with the wisdom that is earned by someone who is defeated. And I think there is a suggestion of envy for the victor even though the “dying” has a deeper understanding of success than the victor.

Who determines the value of success?

The individual chooses what is worth pursuing. The victor, ironically, understands success less well than the defeated.

I would never suggest that all recognitions of concrete success are without value. I would suggest, however, that success in and of itself is less fulfilling than the effort to pursue what provides the pursuer confidence, happiness, and wisdom.

Pursuing recognition builds stamina, character, and purpose. Pursuing success, however, requires the courage to risk everything, for as Lincoln and Dickinson remind us, winning is not the most important thing. 

In preparation for an hour session tomorrow with the instructional coaching coordinator in our district, I have some thoughts on coaching:

First of all, making the switch from teacher to coach of teachers requires much letting go.

Second, listening to teachers is much more intense than listening to students.

Third, feedback still means criticism.

Fourth, when a teacher thinks coaching is a waste of time, the teacher usually wants to spend coaching time describing why students are so ill-prepared academically and how students’ work ethic sabotages a teacher’s efforts to instill personal accountability.

Fifth, when a teacher has an insight that shakes up what was heretofore unshakeable assumptions about teaching, it’s time to wrap up the conversation before the teacher gets defensive.

Sixth, if I don’t make rounds at least twice a day drumming up coaching opportunities, no one will initiate a conversation.

Seventh, sometimes teachers will check in with me on positive things happening in their classes as if they feel I need positive reinforcement that our time together has made a difference.

Eighth, sometimes teachers are insulted if I ask how things are going.

Ninth, sometimes I need someone to talk to me about stuff other than teaching.

Tenth, my extended family now believes I didn’t just settle for teaching to get my summers off.