In the 1967 Steve McQueen movie, Cool Hand Luke, a prison guard says to McQueen’s inmate character, “What we have here is a failure to communicate.”
It is perhaps one of my favorite movie quotes, as it so aptly gets to heart of most of the issues I see everyday as a school principal. Most problems are the result of misconceptions, miscommunications, assumptions, rumors, or flat out lies. I do not recall ever having used the line to a student or parent, but I could use it often. “What we have here (kid, parent, teacher, insert name here) is a failure to communicate.”
So I spend a lot of time trying to communicate successfully, to ensure that all parties understand each other and understand the facts clearly and truthfully. Most issues simply work themselves out once the “failure to communicate” is overcome.
Perhaps this is why I was asked this week to moderate a forum on “Communication Between the Generations” at a gifted seminar at the Northwest Kansas Educational Service Center in Oakley. (Or perhaps it was because the original moderator couldn’t make it and they were desperate to find a replacement!) Regardless the reason, I found myself facing a room full of very intelligent high school students, introducing a panel comprised of five adults of various ages to talk about…well talk and such.
In my preparation for this assignment, I learned about four generations, each with general preferences, strengths, and weaknesses. People over the age of sixty-five make up the senior generation, forty-five and older are called Baby Boomers, twenty-five to forty-five are referred to as Generation X and today’s youth make up Generation Y.
The differences are fairly obvious and largely tied in with technology. Seniors prefer face-to-face communication, while Gen Y is proficient at texting on their cell phones. Baby Boomers are more comfortable with structure, while Gen X people are a little more independent. According to what I read, Gen Y individuals are more family centric and crave a better work/life balance. This bit of news gives my great hope for the future.
The members of the panels were three seniors, including a former world traveler and church pastor, along with a Baby Boomer and a Fort Hays State University communications Gen X professor.
We began talking about texting. The number of hands that raised to the “Do you text?” question was certainly eye opening, with near 100% of the teens in the room texting regularly. However, all those hands also went up when asked if the regularly text their parents, so again, I have hope.
One of the seniors told a story about having to terminate the contract of two employees who spent more time texting than working. This led to a discussion about how texting logs can be retrieved with a subpoena from the phone company, and about how everything you put on the Internet is there for all time.
“Never post or text anything that you wouldn’t also send to your parents,” was the advice of the panel.
Next we talked about eye contact and the importance of establishing rapport. The youngest generation has high expectations of older generations, and they feel respect is something to be earned and not blindly given. However, the older generations feel they deserve respect due to experience.
The forum went very well, with many insightful and thought provoking comments from all four generations. However, the one observation that will stick with me came from the ex-pastor. He talked about how while he doesn’t text, he did pass a lot of notes when he was a boy. He pulled out his cell phone to show that he is as connected as anyone else. Finally, he talked about how we, as human beings, have more in common with one another than differences. Regardless of age or communication preference, we share common desires, interests, and passions, the same basic needs as humans have sought for a long time.
All in all, I thought the day to be a great success. It taught me that when I encounter a “failure to communicate” to always remember that communication is key to understanding, and understanding is essential for growth.
Growth from one generation to the next. I wonder if I’ll still be referred to as “Generation X” when I am a senior citizen. I suppose, all in all, it will not matter that much.
Remembering to Give Thanks (11-30-09)
It might have seemed well planned that I posted an article thanking a referee during the week of Thanksgiving. Truth be told though, this year I almost forgot about our national holiday.
For each of the last three years, I have written a Thanksgiving column. In 2006, my family and I were thankful for the new job in the new town with a new baby on the way. In 2007, I wrote about National Reading day and how thankful I was for literacy. Last year, I took a moment to give thanks for all the “less than pleasant” things I “get to do.”
I could (and perhaps should) simply rewrite the 2006 article. While the newness may have worn off, my family and I remain grateful to live in such a great community, and we are thankful for all the friends who have made our lives so rich and rewarding. Thank you, Hill City, thank you.
Yet, with all the good things to commemorate, somehow I failed to “memorate” any of them. The gutsy performance by Dan Worcester just happened to occur the week before Thanksgiving, and I didn’t realize I had written a “Thank You” article to be published before the national day of thanks.
I am thankful for that as well. Thank you, God, for small wonders and good timing!
But if I had to pick something particular to this year and to this time in my life, I would have to write about my gratitude at having a job. Yes, this week governor Parkinson announced his budget cuts for education, and needless to say, the news is bleak. I’ll leave the details for another time, and I might just leave the entire ugly mess for a proper journalist to dissect. I hear the Salina Journal has a very thorough article on the subject.
But for me, I think the state of our economy really hit home in talking with family and friends over the Thanksgiving break. One of my sisters related how hard her profession has been hit by the recession and how lucky she feels to still have a position in a field where jobs are becoming ever more scarce. I also heard about the meager job prospects for a talented nephew who recently graduated from college.
My wife and I also visited a good friend in Wichita, a teacher for the Wichita school district. Hearing about all the massive job losses in our state’s largest school district was sobering, and nobody thinks the state budget is anywhere close to bottoming out.
As I talk about school finance, I continually try to remind myself not to complain, not to sound too whiny or self-absorbed. Because, really, as an educator I am better off than most. I have a job in a profession where there are still some jobs to be had. The cuts from last year, this year, and in the following years may never fully solve the teacher shortage problem. All the information I’ve seen point to an aging job force of teachers and administrators. As with Hill City last year, many districts will be able to absorb the cuts at least partially by not hiring back positions from which people retire. Undoubtedly, some educators have and will lose their jobs due to reduction in force as districts try to do more with less. But there aren’t a lot of young teachers coming out of college and so the number of job openings hasn’t completely disappeared as they have in other professions.
So, this Thanksgiving, I’m thankful to not only have a job, but to have a job I love in a profession that needs me in a town that seems glad to have me around. The challenge now is how to help those without work, or stuck in temporary or part time jobs. Things will turn around, they always do. In the meantime, I will count my blessings and try to be a blessing to those around me.
Even in these hard times, we must never forget to give thanks.
For each of the last three years, I have written a Thanksgiving column. In 2006, my family and I were thankful for the new job in the new town with a new baby on the way. In 2007, I wrote about National Reading day and how thankful I was for literacy. Last year, I took a moment to give thanks for all the “less than pleasant” things I “get to do.”
I could (and perhaps should) simply rewrite the 2006 article. While the newness may have worn off, my family and I remain grateful to live in such a great community, and we are thankful for all the friends who have made our lives so rich and rewarding. Thank you, Hill City, thank you.
Yet, with all the good things to commemorate, somehow I failed to “memorate” any of them. The gutsy performance by Dan Worcester just happened to occur the week before Thanksgiving, and I didn’t realize I had written a “Thank You” article to be published before the national day of thanks.
I am thankful for that as well. Thank you, God, for small wonders and good timing!
But if I had to pick something particular to this year and to this time in my life, I would have to write about my gratitude at having a job. Yes, this week governor Parkinson announced his budget cuts for education, and needless to say, the news is bleak. I’ll leave the details for another time, and I might just leave the entire ugly mess for a proper journalist to dissect. I hear the Salina Journal has a very thorough article on the subject.
But for me, I think the state of our economy really hit home in talking with family and friends over the Thanksgiving break. One of my sisters related how hard her profession has been hit by the recession and how lucky she feels to still have a position in a field where jobs are becoming ever more scarce. I also heard about the meager job prospects for a talented nephew who recently graduated from college.
My wife and I also visited a good friend in Wichita, a teacher for the Wichita school district. Hearing about all the massive job losses in our state’s largest school district was sobering, and nobody thinks the state budget is anywhere close to bottoming out.
As I talk about school finance, I continually try to remind myself not to complain, not to sound too whiny or self-absorbed. Because, really, as an educator I am better off than most. I have a job in a profession where there are still some jobs to be had. The cuts from last year, this year, and in the following years may never fully solve the teacher shortage problem. All the information I’ve seen point to an aging job force of teachers and administrators. As with Hill City last year, many districts will be able to absorb the cuts at least partially by not hiring back positions from which people retire. Undoubtedly, some educators have and will lose their jobs due to reduction in force as districts try to do more with less. But there aren’t a lot of young teachers coming out of college and so the number of job openings hasn’t completely disappeared as they have in other professions.
So, this Thanksgiving, I’m thankful to not only have a job, but to have a job I love in a profession that needs me in a town that seems glad to have me around. The challenge now is how to help those without work, or stuck in temporary or part time jobs. Things will turn around, they always do. In the meantime, I will count my blessings and try to be a blessing to those around me.
Even in these hard times, we must never forget to give thanks.
Thank You, Ref (11-23-09)
When was the last time you told a referee, “Thank you”?
Think about it. Is there anyone less appreciated in education? When they do a good job, they are hardly noticed. When they make a mistake, everyone sees it and many aren’t shy about letting them know just how they screwed up. In fact, some of those very same “not-so-shy” folks give the ref an ear full even when no mistake has been made. It just goes with the territory.
I realize that referees are professionals. They are paid to do a job, and most do the best job they know how. They certainly don’t ask for any thanks. Most refs are happy to officiate the games without interference. Some refs leave the profession because of the interference. The best refs figure out how to stick it out, even in the midst of sometimes intense pressure.
On Thursday, I saw one of our junior high referees face a different sort of pressure, and face it with amazing bravery. When Dan Worcester reported for the start of the junior high boys’ game versus Phillipsburg, I could immediately see that something was not right. He was pale and looked like he didn’t feel well. He told me as much and joked that I might have to put on his black and white stripped referee jersey before the evening was finished. I replied that that wasn’t an option.
Once the first game began, Dan seemed like his old self. He hustled up and down the court, made good and fair calls. He was consistent and assertive. He and his partner Jeff Nip neither took over the game nor let it out of their control.
Back in the referee room during half times and between games, Dan again looked pale, out of breath, and visible weak. I kept asking him if he would make it, and he kept telling me that he wasn’t sure, that I should get ready to wear that jersey. Once, I entered the room to find him on the floor. I thought he had passed out, but was relieved to learn that he was just stretching.
Back in the game I could see no sign of illness. There was no uncertainty. There was no hesitation. He ran as hard as ever, always putting himself in the best position to see every play to make every call.
All in all, I’d consider Hill City v. Phillipsburg to be some of the best-officiated games I have ever seen. I heard no complaints from either side of the gym, and everyone seemed satisfied that the contest had been well managed.
Afterwards, Dan seemed a little better. I think he had been as worried as I was that he would not be able to finish, and I think he was as relieved as I was that it was over. I don’t know where he found the strength, but I was sure glad he found it somewhere.
If he hadn’t, if he had indeed been too ill to run up and down that court time after time, I really don’t know what would have happened. I’ve never been in that situation and I hope I never will be. We don’t have a back up ref of standby. I don’t know who I would have even asked. I guess now would be a good time to formulate a back up plan just in case a ref should go down.
But thanks to the quiet heroics of this dedicated official, we made it through one more set of games. So now, to Dan Worcester, I say, “Thank you.”
The next time you see a referee, I encourage you to do the same.
Think about it. Is there anyone less appreciated in education? When they do a good job, they are hardly noticed. When they make a mistake, everyone sees it and many aren’t shy about letting them know just how they screwed up. In fact, some of those very same “not-so-shy” folks give the ref an ear full even when no mistake has been made. It just goes with the territory.
I realize that referees are professionals. They are paid to do a job, and most do the best job they know how. They certainly don’t ask for any thanks. Most refs are happy to officiate the games without interference. Some refs leave the profession because of the interference. The best refs figure out how to stick it out, even in the midst of sometimes intense pressure.
On Thursday, I saw one of our junior high referees face a different sort of pressure, and face it with amazing bravery. When Dan Worcester reported for the start of the junior high boys’ game versus Phillipsburg, I could immediately see that something was not right. He was pale and looked like he didn’t feel well. He told me as much and joked that I might have to put on his black and white stripped referee jersey before the evening was finished. I replied that that wasn’t an option.
Once the first game began, Dan seemed like his old self. He hustled up and down the court, made good and fair calls. He was consistent and assertive. He and his partner Jeff Nip neither took over the game nor let it out of their control.
Back in the referee room during half times and between games, Dan again looked pale, out of breath, and visible weak. I kept asking him if he would make it, and he kept telling me that he wasn’t sure, that I should get ready to wear that jersey. Once, I entered the room to find him on the floor. I thought he had passed out, but was relieved to learn that he was just stretching.
Back in the game I could see no sign of illness. There was no uncertainty. There was no hesitation. He ran as hard as ever, always putting himself in the best position to see every play to make every call.
All in all, I’d consider Hill City v. Phillipsburg to be some of the best-officiated games I have ever seen. I heard no complaints from either side of the gym, and everyone seemed satisfied that the contest had been well managed.
Afterwards, Dan seemed a little better. I think he had been as worried as I was that he would not be able to finish, and I think he was as relieved as I was that it was over. I don’t know where he found the strength, but I was sure glad he found it somewhere.
If he hadn’t, if he had indeed been too ill to run up and down that court time after time, I really don’t know what would have happened. I’ve never been in that situation and I hope I never will be. We don’t have a back up ref of standby. I don’t know who I would have even asked. I guess now would be a good time to formulate a back up plan just in case a ref should go down.
But thanks to the quiet heroics of this dedicated official, we made it through one more set of games. So now, to Dan Worcester, I say, “Thank you.”
The next time you see a referee, I encourage you to do the same.
Rest of the Story (11-16-09)
I used to listen to a radio personality by the name of Paul Harvey. You may have heard of him. He had a folksy way of speaking and used to end his news reports with the line, “And now you know the rest of the story.”
Last week, I wrote about the wonderful school spirit I experienced for our playoff bound football team. Now it is time to tell the rest of the story.
You see, this was the first time that our grade school ever lined up on both sides of the highway to send a team off in high spirits. Yet, this was not the first time a Hill City team has traveled down the highway to compete at the state’s highest level.
This week I learned that just four days before, on a Friday afternoon, our high school cross country team passed quietly by on their way to the State Cross Country Tournament. Those courageous and incredible athletes received no parade, no banner waving, and no entourage of faithful fans.
Thinking about this, I was reminded about league music, which, coincidentally, took place that same evening. My family and I attended this event to watch our daughter who, believe it or not, is a freshmen in high school. (Yes, I still have a hard time believing that I am somehow old enough to be the father of a freshmen in high school!) When we arrived at Stockton High School, we saw so few cars parked out front, we almost did not go in. We were in the right place, though we discovered the performers outnumbered the audience.
So how many other activities are there that receive little to no attention from our community? I’m as guilty as the next person in overlooking the multitude of prestigious accomplishments by Hill City students and Hill City teams. And I doubt we are alone. Most schools and most communities, while supporting all students in all their endeavors, tend to show the most school spirit for the more visible team sports. Plus, when a school finds success in something for the first time, as was the case with the football team, the school spirit really erupts.
It is just easy to grow complacent. For example, this Thursday I traveled to Smith Center to supervise junior high basketball. Upon entering Smith Center High School, I had to stop and ask myself if I was in the right location.
I was confused by the fact that I was practically greeted at the door by a throng of Hill City High School students wearing blue FFA jackets. I had unwittingly stumbled upon an FFA Leadership competition that was taking place at the same time as the junior high ballgames.
After the games, I stopped one of our high school kids and asked how we did. “Great!” the student replied with a wide grin. “We took first!”
I think it is fair to guess that everyone in Hill City knows what a strong FFA chapter we possess, just as most people know that we have amazing sports teams, science Olympiad squads, eco-meet teams, forensics competitors, as well as journalists, artists, and musicians. Every year, these groups and others perform at the highest possible levels, and yet few of them ever get a parade, or some of them barely get a mention.
While our football team deserved every accolade, let us use the support we gave to that team serve as a high water mark to which we can all aspire. In doing so much to support the football team, we know that we can do more to support everyone else.
And that, as Paul Harvey used to say, is the rest of the story.
Last week, I wrote about the wonderful school spirit I experienced for our playoff bound football team. Now it is time to tell the rest of the story.
You see, this was the first time that our grade school ever lined up on both sides of the highway to send a team off in high spirits. Yet, this was not the first time a Hill City team has traveled down the highway to compete at the state’s highest level.
This week I learned that just four days before, on a Friday afternoon, our high school cross country team passed quietly by on their way to the State Cross Country Tournament. Those courageous and incredible athletes received no parade, no banner waving, and no entourage of faithful fans.
Thinking about this, I was reminded about league music, which, coincidentally, took place that same evening. My family and I attended this event to watch our daughter who, believe it or not, is a freshmen in high school. (Yes, I still have a hard time believing that I am somehow old enough to be the father of a freshmen in high school!) When we arrived at Stockton High School, we saw so few cars parked out front, we almost did not go in. We were in the right place, though we discovered the performers outnumbered the audience.
So how many other activities are there that receive little to no attention from our community? I’m as guilty as the next person in overlooking the multitude of prestigious accomplishments by Hill City students and Hill City teams. And I doubt we are alone. Most schools and most communities, while supporting all students in all their endeavors, tend to show the most school spirit for the more visible team sports. Plus, when a school finds success in something for the first time, as was the case with the football team, the school spirit really erupts.
It is just easy to grow complacent. For example, this Thursday I traveled to Smith Center to supervise junior high basketball. Upon entering Smith Center High School, I had to stop and ask myself if I was in the right location.
I was confused by the fact that I was practically greeted at the door by a throng of Hill City High School students wearing blue FFA jackets. I had unwittingly stumbled upon an FFA Leadership competition that was taking place at the same time as the junior high ballgames.
After the games, I stopped one of our high school kids and asked how we did. “Great!” the student replied with a wide grin. “We took first!”
I think it is fair to guess that everyone in Hill City knows what a strong FFA chapter we possess, just as most people know that we have amazing sports teams, science Olympiad squads, eco-meet teams, forensics competitors, as well as journalists, artists, and musicians. Every year, these groups and others perform at the highest possible levels, and yet few of them ever get a parade, or some of them barely get a mention.
While our football team deserved every accolade, let us use the support we gave to that team serve as a high water mark to which we can all aspire. In doing so much to support the football team, we know that we can do more to support everyone else.
And that, as Paul Harvey used to say, is the rest of the story.
School Spirit (11-09-09)
A wonderful thing occurred this week. Our town broke out with a heavy dose of school spirit.
Perhaps you have heard that our high school football boys made the playoffs for the first time since…well ever. I used to think that the streak extended back to the history of the high school in 1922, but this week I learned that it only dates back to 1969 when the playoff system was put in place. Anyway, a football playoff game was a historic event for Hill City, and I was impressed with how much school spirit I witnessed.
It began around 2:00 o’clock on Tuesday, when the entire K-6 student body lined both sides of fourth street (Highway 283) to wish the boys well as they drove past. The kids had been making posters and banners all morning, and they were ready. There was an electric buzz in the air of anticipation as we waited for the Ringneck bus to turn the corner at Hill Street. The sun was shining and wind was calm and the kids were thrilled to be outside, part of something exciting. I don’t know how many of them knew the history of the event, but they knew that this was something special. You could feel the sense of oneness as they waited with a common cause.
Then we saw not the bus, but the chief of police’s pickup, turning the corner with lights flashing. He was driving slowly, as if he were leading a parade. Then a cheer rose in the air as the Ringneck Express slowly came in sight, turned onto the highway, and made its way toward us.
Everyone waved their signs and shook their banners. Someone started chanting “RING-NECKS! RING-NECKS” and soon one whole side of the street was screaming in unison. Through the tinted windows of the bus, we couldn’t see the faces of the players, but we could see them wave. The bus sped up a little, caught the green light at the intersection, turned east, and was gone.
But what I saw next is something I’ll always remember. Behind the Ringneck bus was a parade or sorts. Vehicle after vehicle, loaded with loyal fans ready to make the two-and-a-half-hour trip slowly passed up by. They honked and waved and mostly they smiled. Cars, and trucks and mini-vans. They kept coming and coming and I realized why the police had decided to provide an escort to this incredible Ringneck caravan.
The next day, I heard many kids talking about the game they had listened to on the Internet. This included my son, a fourth grader who usually dislikes watching or listening to sports - he’d rather be a participant than a spectator. For a while anyway, he was as captivated as we all were.
While our opponent Tuesday night had been there before, had played in countless post season contests, and even won a state title or two, we were there for the first time. No one on our team, other than the head coach, had ever competed in a football match of such high stakes. We didn’t know what to expect, and our inexperience showed.
But regardless of the outcome, our boys learned. They learned more about how a champion team plays and how that for long periods of the game, they could play with the experienced team.
When it was over, we left with our heads held high and our eyes to the future. We now can call ourselves a playoff team. We now have experienced players to lead us into next season. Yes the season might have ended that night, but our dreams for this team have only just begun.
We just had to get the first one under our belts. The best part of the entire experience was the way our town came together to support the team. It was an awesome display of school spirit, and is something that I will never forget.
Perhaps you have heard that our high school football boys made the playoffs for the first time since…well ever. I used to think that the streak extended back to the history of the high school in 1922, but this week I learned that it only dates back to 1969 when the playoff system was put in place. Anyway, a football playoff game was a historic event for Hill City, and I was impressed with how much school spirit I witnessed.
It began around 2:00 o’clock on Tuesday, when the entire K-6 student body lined both sides of fourth street (Highway 283) to wish the boys well as they drove past. The kids had been making posters and banners all morning, and they were ready. There was an electric buzz in the air of anticipation as we waited for the Ringneck bus to turn the corner at Hill Street. The sun was shining and wind was calm and the kids were thrilled to be outside, part of something exciting. I don’t know how many of them knew the history of the event, but they knew that this was something special. You could feel the sense of oneness as they waited with a common cause.
Then we saw not the bus, but the chief of police’s pickup, turning the corner with lights flashing. He was driving slowly, as if he were leading a parade. Then a cheer rose in the air as the Ringneck Express slowly came in sight, turned onto the highway, and made its way toward us.
Everyone waved their signs and shook their banners. Someone started chanting “RING-NECKS! RING-NECKS” and soon one whole side of the street was screaming in unison. Through the tinted windows of the bus, we couldn’t see the faces of the players, but we could see them wave. The bus sped up a little, caught the green light at the intersection, turned east, and was gone.
But what I saw next is something I’ll always remember. Behind the Ringneck bus was a parade or sorts. Vehicle after vehicle, loaded with loyal fans ready to make the two-and-a-half-hour trip slowly passed up by. They honked and waved and mostly they smiled. Cars, and trucks and mini-vans. They kept coming and coming and I realized why the police had decided to provide an escort to this incredible Ringneck caravan.
The next day, I heard many kids talking about the game they had listened to on the Internet. This included my son, a fourth grader who usually dislikes watching or listening to sports - he’d rather be a participant than a spectator. For a while anyway, he was as captivated as we all were.
While our opponent Tuesday night had been there before, had played in countless post season contests, and even won a state title or two, we were there for the first time. No one on our team, other than the head coach, had ever competed in a football match of such high stakes. We didn’t know what to expect, and our inexperience showed.
But regardless of the outcome, our boys learned. They learned more about how a champion team plays and how that for long periods of the game, they could play with the experienced team.
When it was over, we left with our heads held high and our eyes to the future. We now can call ourselves a playoff team. We now have experienced players to lead us into next season. Yes the season might have ended that night, but our dreams for this team have only just begun.
We just had to get the first one under our belts. The best part of the entire experience was the way our town came together to support the team. It was an awesome display of school spirit, and is something that I will never forget.
Physical Education (11-02-09)
This week, I had the privilege of serving a long-term substitute teaching assignment. Well, if you can count two consecutive days as being “long term.” Regardless, I got to be our school’s physical education teacher on Wednesday and Thursday, and I learned a lot from the experience.
I have subbed in just about every classroom now in my tenure at Hill City Grade School. I think subbing for my teachers (while obviously a sign of total desperation due to a complete lack of qualified subs) does give me an excellent perspective to evaluate both teachers and students. There is an old proverb that says to truly understand another person you must walk a mile in his or her shoes. Substitute teaching is about as close to walking in a teacher’s shoes as one can get.
First, I want to commend our excellent physical education teacher, Janella Benoit, for her meticulous preparation and communication. Even under the dark cloud of illness, she still managed to write detailed lesson plans, complete with diagrams and citations from various PE guides. In all my years as a sub (and I began my teaching career as a sub) I have seen few lesson plans as informative as Mrs. Benoit’s.
On top of great lesson plans, she managed to call me each day I subbed for her to go over the plans and check on the progress of the kids. This woman cares so much about her students that even from home she does her best to make sure they get the best education she can provide. It was, for me, a humbling and awesome experience.
During my two-day stint, I got to stretch, run, teach, and watch our students engage in cooperative games of muscle and coordination. I saw how each grade level brought its own set of challenges to the gym floor and how even different sections of the same grade could interpret instructions so differently.
One of the best parts of the experience was getting to work so closely with every single K-6 student. Before, I thought I knew all their names, but this job proved that I still have a ways to go. It isn’t that I don’t know the names, but that when presented with one class after another every twenty minutes, I did not know all the names well enough. Or maybe I’m just getting old, but by the end of each day my recall would double clutch and often stall entirely. I simply had to take a moment for my old analog hard drive of a cerebellum to eventually retrieve the correct moniker. The practice, the sheer act of having to recall every name of every student several times each day, did much to fine tune the old noggin.
I also feel that I better understand the entire PE/Vocal schedule. Last year, I subbed several times for Mrs. Shank, and while twenty minutes is not very much time, I usually was able to get through the lesson without too much trouble. PE, on the other hand, presented an entirely different set of challenges.
I began each class by having the students stretch and then would lead them though a simple set of callisthenic exercises. From there, I engaged the students in several cooperative learning games, most involving some sort of ball. The challenge was with how fast or how slow the students caught on to the instructions and how fast they were able to master the game.
With some classes, twenty minutes seemed an eternity. We’d be though the games listed in the lesson plans and I would have to improve to complete the time. With other classes, we wouldn’t be able to get through everything.
One game, involving basketballs, was a snap for the fifth grade. Bouyed by my ability to relay complicated instructions with this group, I admit I hurried the instruction with the sixth grade. The result was more chaos than order, more confusion than enlightenment. It really made me question my assumptions about different groups of students and different ways of communicating the same instruction.
More than anything, this taught me about the sheer stamina it takes to be a PE teacher. After two days, I was sore and tired. I have always admired Mrs. Benoit’s exercise regimen. She is a habitual walker and very fit person. Now I see why. Any teaching assignment can be exhausting, but never have I been so physically wore out than after being an instructor of physical education.
I have subbed in just about every classroom now in my tenure at Hill City Grade School. I think subbing for my teachers (while obviously a sign of total desperation due to a complete lack of qualified subs) does give me an excellent perspective to evaluate both teachers and students. There is an old proverb that says to truly understand another person you must walk a mile in his or her shoes. Substitute teaching is about as close to walking in a teacher’s shoes as one can get.
First, I want to commend our excellent physical education teacher, Janella Benoit, for her meticulous preparation and communication. Even under the dark cloud of illness, she still managed to write detailed lesson plans, complete with diagrams and citations from various PE guides. In all my years as a sub (and I began my teaching career as a sub) I have seen few lesson plans as informative as Mrs. Benoit’s.
On top of great lesson plans, she managed to call me each day I subbed for her to go over the plans and check on the progress of the kids. This woman cares so much about her students that even from home she does her best to make sure they get the best education she can provide. It was, for me, a humbling and awesome experience.
During my two-day stint, I got to stretch, run, teach, and watch our students engage in cooperative games of muscle and coordination. I saw how each grade level brought its own set of challenges to the gym floor and how even different sections of the same grade could interpret instructions so differently.
One of the best parts of the experience was getting to work so closely with every single K-6 student. Before, I thought I knew all their names, but this job proved that I still have a ways to go. It isn’t that I don’t know the names, but that when presented with one class after another every twenty minutes, I did not know all the names well enough. Or maybe I’m just getting old, but by the end of each day my recall would double clutch and often stall entirely. I simply had to take a moment for my old analog hard drive of a cerebellum to eventually retrieve the correct moniker. The practice, the sheer act of having to recall every name of every student several times each day, did much to fine tune the old noggin.
I also feel that I better understand the entire PE/Vocal schedule. Last year, I subbed several times for Mrs. Shank, and while twenty minutes is not very much time, I usually was able to get through the lesson without too much trouble. PE, on the other hand, presented an entirely different set of challenges.
I began each class by having the students stretch and then would lead them though a simple set of callisthenic exercises. From there, I engaged the students in several cooperative learning games, most involving some sort of ball. The challenge was with how fast or how slow the students caught on to the instructions and how fast they were able to master the game.
With some classes, twenty minutes seemed an eternity. We’d be though the games listed in the lesson plans and I would have to improve to complete the time. With other classes, we wouldn’t be able to get through everything.
One game, involving basketballs, was a snap for the fifth grade. Bouyed by my ability to relay complicated instructions with this group, I admit I hurried the instruction with the sixth grade. The result was more chaos than order, more confusion than enlightenment. It really made me question my assumptions about different groups of students and different ways of communicating the same instruction.
More than anything, this taught me about the sheer stamina it takes to be a PE teacher. After two days, I was sore and tired. I have always admired Mrs. Benoit’s exercise regimen. She is a habitual walker and very fit person. Now I see why. Any teaching assignment can be exhausting, but never have I been so physically wore out than after being an instructor of physical education.
More Than Fair (10-26-09)
I don’t know what it is about small town fairs, but for me anyway, they are simply spectacular.
This week, I had a chance to enjoy a small town fair of a different sort: a book fair. For the last several years, our awesome grade school librarian, Kathy Hofstetter, scheduled, ordered, set-up, ran, and tore down a Scholastic Book Fair. Now, if you have never attended one of these events, they require a lot of work. Scholastic Books sends a semi load full of large metal rolling carts as well as several dozen boxes. The carts are hinged and once opened, can be positioned end-to-end creating an instant bookstore. The boxed books, CD’s, school supplies, and other items then fill many tables.
The running of the fair requires many helpers, both to check out customers, but also to answer questions, tidy the shelves, and make sure nothing accidentally disappears. There are thousands of items for sale, and running the fair is quite an undertaking.
This year, Mrs. Hofstetter was needed once more in the classroom. When Scholastic Books called, asking if we wanted to host another fair, a decision had to be made. Either we would have to cancel, or we would have to find another dedicated soul to make it happen.
Enter Dru Potter, PTO president and dedicated volunteer. When she heard about our plight, she didn’t hesitate. She agreed for our Parent-Teacher Organization to host the HCES Book Fair.
The Scholastic truck arrived with its huge payload of books. At this point, I must mention the role of our custodian, Duane Patterson. Not only did he unload the truck, but also he found room for the mountain of stuff until we could free our conference room/board room/milk room/storage room/concession stand for the fair.
Many weeks and several concession stands and one board meeting later, we finally had use of the room. The day we were to set up was also the high school’s turn to host league volleyball. Mrs. Potter graciously agreed for us to use her room for the concession stand that day, and both Mr. Patterson and Christy Foster worked hard to move the concession stand to a new one-day home.
The fair began first thing Monday morning, when teachers came through to make out their “wish lists.” During the day, they brought their students to the fair to browse and make their own lists. Vicky Wagoner, another dedicated volunteer gave up an entire day to sit in the room and give tours to the eager groups.
Then, the fair was open for business during the Parent Teacher conferences Monday and Tuesday evenings.
Of course, the book fair isn’t just about books. Scholastic also provides a plethora of pencils, fun eraser, and other little knick-knacks that appeal to the younger crowd So on Wednesday, Dru Potter gave up her entire day to sit in that room while students trickled in and out to get this or that.
My wife Tonia accepted a big role in keeping the books. She worked late into the evening Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday calculating our profits and our share of free merchandize.
On Thursday, I met with the teachers at the fair and for one last day as they picked out free books the PTO had given to them. I then met with Mary-Ann Keith for about for the library to pick out their free books.
All in all, we earned about $3500.00 dollars, and received for our effort just under $2000.00 in free merchandise. The teachers received $35 in free items, the PTO collect over $400 in free books for their end of the year “Bingo for Books” event, and our grade school library received a cool $1000 in free books.
On Saturday, Dru, Tonia and Vicki met to close up the carts and refill the boxes (though there was a lot of empty boxes by the time it was over!) Duane will wheel it all back into the gym, where it will sit in storage until Scholastic picks it all up in early November.
I have never been prouder to be part of PTO, and I encourage all parents to join. This event was a monumental undertaking, but thanks to the hard work of the many volunteers and HCES staff, our fair was more than fair: it was spectacular!
This week, I had a chance to enjoy a small town fair of a different sort: a book fair. For the last several years, our awesome grade school librarian, Kathy Hofstetter, scheduled, ordered, set-up, ran, and tore down a Scholastic Book Fair. Now, if you have never attended one of these events, they require a lot of work. Scholastic Books sends a semi load full of large metal rolling carts as well as several dozen boxes. The carts are hinged and once opened, can be positioned end-to-end creating an instant bookstore. The boxed books, CD’s, school supplies, and other items then fill many tables.
The running of the fair requires many helpers, both to check out customers, but also to answer questions, tidy the shelves, and make sure nothing accidentally disappears. There are thousands of items for sale, and running the fair is quite an undertaking.
This year, Mrs. Hofstetter was needed once more in the classroom. When Scholastic Books called, asking if we wanted to host another fair, a decision had to be made. Either we would have to cancel, or we would have to find another dedicated soul to make it happen.
Enter Dru Potter, PTO president and dedicated volunteer. When she heard about our plight, she didn’t hesitate. She agreed for our Parent-Teacher Organization to host the HCES Book Fair.
The Scholastic truck arrived with its huge payload of books. At this point, I must mention the role of our custodian, Duane Patterson. Not only did he unload the truck, but also he found room for the mountain of stuff until we could free our conference room/board room/milk room/storage room/concession stand for the fair.
Many weeks and several concession stands and one board meeting later, we finally had use of the room. The day we were to set up was also the high school’s turn to host league volleyball. Mrs. Potter graciously agreed for us to use her room for the concession stand that day, and both Mr. Patterson and Christy Foster worked hard to move the concession stand to a new one-day home.
The fair began first thing Monday morning, when teachers came through to make out their “wish lists.” During the day, they brought their students to the fair to browse and make their own lists. Vicky Wagoner, another dedicated volunteer gave up an entire day to sit in the room and give tours to the eager groups.
Then, the fair was open for business during the Parent Teacher conferences Monday and Tuesday evenings.
Of course, the book fair isn’t just about books. Scholastic also provides a plethora of pencils, fun eraser, and other little knick-knacks that appeal to the younger crowd So on Wednesday, Dru Potter gave up her entire day to sit in that room while students trickled in and out to get this or that.
My wife Tonia accepted a big role in keeping the books. She worked late into the evening Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday calculating our profits and our share of free merchandize.
On Thursday, I met with the teachers at the fair and for one last day as they picked out free books the PTO had given to them. I then met with Mary-Ann Keith for about for the library to pick out their free books.
All in all, we earned about $3500.00 dollars, and received for our effort just under $2000.00 in free merchandise. The teachers received $35 in free items, the PTO collect over $400 in free books for their end of the year “Bingo for Books” event, and our grade school library received a cool $1000 in free books.
On Saturday, Dru, Tonia and Vicki met to close up the carts and refill the boxes (though there was a lot of empty boxes by the time it was over!) Duane will wheel it all back into the gym, where it will sit in storage until Scholastic picks it all up in early November.
I have never been prouder to be part of PTO, and I encourage all parents to join. This event was a monumental undertaking, but thanks to the hard work of the many volunteers and HCES staff, our fair was more than fair: it was spectacular!
In Service (10-19-09)
This week found the entire teaching staff of USD 281 headed to Plainville to participate in a collective day of in-service. This was a first, or at least a first-in-a-long-while. With school budgets taking a continual pounding from state cuts, it just made sense for districts to consolidate their resources and work together on professional development.
The keynote speaker was Diane DeBacker, who at the time of her presentation was the Kansas Deputy Commissioner of Education (she is now the official “interim” commish, as later in the week Alexna Posney resigned to accept a post in Washington). Ms. DeBacker had a 100 slide PowerPoint presentation filled with everything you’d want to know about education in Kansas.
She talked to us about how Kansas Schools again had a higher percentage of their students reach proficient or better on the state assessments for the ninth straight year. She talked about how No Child Left Behind is probably on its way out, to be replaced by the new “Race to The Top” initiative. She talked a lot about teachers, from the those who quit after their first year, or leave the profession after five years or less, to those who will be eligible for retirement in the next five. She talked about mentor programs and performance pay and how Kansas is again slipping backward in the state rankings for teacher salaries.
She talked, and she talked. We listened, all 168 of us, from five school districts, representing every grade and every subject area.
When she finished, that was when the real in-service began. At that point, the teachers split into peer groups, joined with other teachers of their grade level and or area. They were given the task of completing an action plan for a collaborative project. Most important, though, they were given time to talk.
The next several hours featured not the talk of an expert, but the talk of teachers. Veteran and novice alike shared stories, swapped ideas, and talked about how to improve student performance and learning.
Afterwards, I heard nothing but glowing reviews. “It was so nice just to have time to talk with other teachers,” one person told me. “I heard many great ideas,” said another. “I can’t wait to work on our group project,” said a third.
Teaching is essentially a very lonely profession. Especially in a small school, where each teacher is not only the chairperson of their department, they may also BE their department. I remember from my teaching, being the only person teaching my classes. I was lucky in that I had other English teachers to talk to, but they never taught the same classes. I was the only speech teacher, the only Junior English teacher, etc.
During my first year, I remember asking the other English teacher what exactly I should teach. I asked where was the curriculum guide. “Curriculum guide?” she replied. “There’s no curriculum guide. Teach what you want.”
It was a liberating experience and a very heady time, to be sure. But also lonely. When you’re completely on your own, you question everything you do. There is no one else with whom to compare your teaching.
I have come to learn that my teaching experience is similar to most small town teachers. We wear many hats and we are able to meet the needs to our students one student at a time. But who meets the needs of the teachers?
I hope that this inservice will truly be of service to our teachers. I hope that by having time to collaborate with other area teachers, our educators will expand their base of teaching knowledge. Mostly though, I hope that this collective in-service has helped our teachers understand that they are not alone. When they need help, when they need some perspective on what is going on in their classrooms, they now have a list of peers they can turn to for advice and for support.
Teachers spend their careers “in service” of children. I hope they know that there are other teachers they can reach out to when they need someone to be “in service” of them.
The keynote speaker was Diane DeBacker, who at the time of her presentation was the Kansas Deputy Commissioner of Education (she is now the official “interim” commish, as later in the week Alexna Posney resigned to accept a post in Washington). Ms. DeBacker had a 100 slide PowerPoint presentation filled with everything you’d want to know about education in Kansas.
She talked to us about how Kansas Schools again had a higher percentage of their students reach proficient or better on the state assessments for the ninth straight year. She talked about how No Child Left Behind is probably on its way out, to be replaced by the new “Race to The Top” initiative. She talked a lot about teachers, from the those who quit after their first year, or leave the profession after five years or less, to those who will be eligible for retirement in the next five. She talked about mentor programs and performance pay and how Kansas is again slipping backward in the state rankings for teacher salaries.
She talked, and she talked. We listened, all 168 of us, from five school districts, representing every grade and every subject area.
When she finished, that was when the real in-service began. At that point, the teachers split into peer groups, joined with other teachers of their grade level and or area. They were given the task of completing an action plan for a collaborative project. Most important, though, they were given time to talk.
The next several hours featured not the talk of an expert, but the talk of teachers. Veteran and novice alike shared stories, swapped ideas, and talked about how to improve student performance and learning.
Afterwards, I heard nothing but glowing reviews. “It was so nice just to have time to talk with other teachers,” one person told me. “I heard many great ideas,” said another. “I can’t wait to work on our group project,” said a third.
Teaching is essentially a very lonely profession. Especially in a small school, where each teacher is not only the chairperson of their department, they may also BE their department. I remember from my teaching, being the only person teaching my classes. I was lucky in that I had other English teachers to talk to, but they never taught the same classes. I was the only speech teacher, the only Junior English teacher, etc.
During my first year, I remember asking the other English teacher what exactly I should teach. I asked where was the curriculum guide. “Curriculum guide?” she replied. “There’s no curriculum guide. Teach what you want.”
It was a liberating experience and a very heady time, to be sure. But also lonely. When you’re completely on your own, you question everything you do. There is no one else with whom to compare your teaching.
I have come to learn that my teaching experience is similar to most small town teachers. We wear many hats and we are able to meet the needs to our students one student at a time. But who meets the needs of the teachers?
I hope that this inservice will truly be of service to our teachers. I hope that by having time to collaborate with other area teachers, our educators will expand their base of teaching knowledge. Mostly though, I hope that this collective in-service has helped our teachers understand that they are not alone. When they need help, when they need some perspective on what is going on in their classrooms, they now have a list of peers they can turn to for advice and for support.
Teachers spend their careers “in service” of children. I hope they know that there are other teachers they can reach out to when they need someone to be “in service” of them.
Painted Pumpkins (10-12-09)
This weekend, I found myself in the Hay’s Walmart staring at something I found disturbing. No, it wasn’t a box of Twinkies, though there was a box in our cart, thank you Walmart! What had caught my attention was a bin full of…painted pumpkins.
I admit, that it wasn’t unusual. Considering all the outlandish Halloween decorations one can buy these days, a few painted pumpkins were hardly noteworthy. In fact, they weren’t even scary, at least not in the traditional sense. The faces were quite happy, like little clown faces done up in bright colors with exaggerated features. A little creepy maybe, the way each face was so happy, so cartoonish. And let’s not forget that these faces were painted on pumpkins…
My first thought was that someone artistic had obviously taken a lot of time to paint these pumpkins. I imagined a huddled figure, dripping paint-brush in hand, painting pumpkin after pumpkin, smiling face after smiling face.
Then I realized that the faces were too much alike, too exact to have been done by hand. And that made these things even more depressing. I imagined some horrible machine impersonally stamping or silk screening hundreds of pumpkins with forced holiday cheer.
To me, what is truly terrifying is that there is enough of a demand for pre-painted pumpkins to justify their production. I can understand plastic pumpkins and other decorations. They can be used year after year. An actual pumpkin, though, will only last the season. I suppose people buy them because they are too busy to decorate their own real pumpkins.
From my perspective as an elementary principal, buying a mass produced painted pumpkin misses a grand opportunity to interact with children. Most kids love pumpkins and will jump at a chance to paint them, carve them, and display them. I was reminded of this while evaluating our first grade student teacher, Vanessa Underhill. She put together a multi-lesson thematic unit on the big orange gourds, and on the day I observed, those kids couldn’t get enough of everything pumpkin.
She led them through the terms: stem, skin, ribs, meat, pulp, seeds. She opened pumpkins and had the kids feel the squishing pulp and scrape the seeds. She had them read poetry about pumpkins and draw pictures of pumpkins.
Every year, elementary kids the country over visit pumpkin patches and come home bearing their own handpicked pumpkin. There is even a Charlie Brown TV special dedicated to the “great pumpkin.”
My point is that there are few things in this world that inspire a sense of wonder in a child like a Halloween pumpkin. To take the child out of the equation by buying mass produced painted pumpkins just seems sad.
Growing up, my family never painted pumpkins, we carved them the night before Halloween. It is a tradition I carry on with my family. None of the pumpkins from my childhood would win any prizes. They were not works of art. In fact, I don’t remember a single design, and could not tell you about what any of them actually looked like.
But I can remember carving them. I can remember opening them up, scraping out the gunk, drawing the design and cutting out the face. Mostly, I remember how my mom would make such a big deal over my work. I remember feeling special and loved.
Now, every Halloween, I try to create the same good feeling with my own children.
So while our pumpkins may not be as perfect, perky, and well painted as those from the store, they come with cherished memories and feelings that no amount of money could buy. If painting pumpkins is your thing, I say give a kid an unpainted pumpkin and let him or her go nuts. What they create may not be Wal-mart worthy, but the joy of that creation will be much more rewarding.
I admit, that it wasn’t unusual. Considering all the outlandish Halloween decorations one can buy these days, a few painted pumpkins were hardly noteworthy. In fact, they weren’t even scary, at least not in the traditional sense. The faces were quite happy, like little clown faces done up in bright colors with exaggerated features. A little creepy maybe, the way each face was so happy, so cartoonish. And let’s not forget that these faces were painted on pumpkins…
My first thought was that someone artistic had obviously taken a lot of time to paint these pumpkins. I imagined a huddled figure, dripping paint-brush in hand, painting pumpkin after pumpkin, smiling face after smiling face.
Then I realized that the faces were too much alike, too exact to have been done by hand. And that made these things even more depressing. I imagined some horrible machine impersonally stamping or silk screening hundreds of pumpkins with forced holiday cheer.
To me, what is truly terrifying is that there is enough of a demand for pre-painted pumpkins to justify their production. I can understand plastic pumpkins and other decorations. They can be used year after year. An actual pumpkin, though, will only last the season. I suppose people buy them because they are too busy to decorate their own real pumpkins.
From my perspective as an elementary principal, buying a mass produced painted pumpkin misses a grand opportunity to interact with children. Most kids love pumpkins and will jump at a chance to paint them, carve them, and display them. I was reminded of this while evaluating our first grade student teacher, Vanessa Underhill. She put together a multi-lesson thematic unit on the big orange gourds, and on the day I observed, those kids couldn’t get enough of everything pumpkin.
She led them through the terms: stem, skin, ribs, meat, pulp, seeds. She opened pumpkins and had the kids feel the squishing pulp and scrape the seeds. She had them read poetry about pumpkins and draw pictures of pumpkins.
Every year, elementary kids the country over visit pumpkin patches and come home bearing their own handpicked pumpkin. There is even a Charlie Brown TV special dedicated to the “great pumpkin.”
My point is that there are few things in this world that inspire a sense of wonder in a child like a Halloween pumpkin. To take the child out of the equation by buying mass produced painted pumpkins just seems sad.
Growing up, my family never painted pumpkins, we carved them the night before Halloween. It is a tradition I carry on with my family. None of the pumpkins from my childhood would win any prizes. They were not works of art. In fact, I don’t remember a single design, and could not tell you about what any of them actually looked like.
But I can remember carving them. I can remember opening them up, scraping out the gunk, drawing the design and cutting out the face. Mostly, I remember how my mom would make such a big deal over my work. I remember feeling special and loved.
Now, every Halloween, I try to create the same good feeling with my own children.
So while our pumpkins may not be as perfect, perky, and well painted as those from the store, they come with cherished memories and feelings that no amount of money could buy. If painting pumpkins is your thing, I say give a kid an unpainted pumpkin and let him or her go nuts. What they create may not be Wal-mart worthy, but the joy of that creation will be much more rewarding.
Twinkie Quest (10-5-09)
On Friday night, my wife and I left the kids with a sitter and traveled to Hays. While there, we decided to catch a show, and chose Zombieland. Now you might wonder what a grade school principal is doing going to see such a movie, but please remember I wasn’t born a grade school principal. Sometimes I like to see movies without the kids, and as Saturday night held the promise of kid friendly Toy Story and Toy Story II, Friday night we chose the R-rated zombie movie.
To our delight, the movie was not only funny, but also incredibly warm-hearted. Afterwards, my wife and I agreed that it was “the feel good movie of the year!”
As with any great movie, the strength of Zombieland is found in the characters. The main character is an introverted college kid who survives by his wits and his general distrust of all people, zombie or not. He becomes obsessed with creating rules for survival and the longer he lives, the longer his list becomes.
Then this loner kid meets a man who not only survives, but actually enjoys the ride. Before the virus, he was an average guy, but now he is a zombie killer deluxe. While the loner lives by dozens of rules to carefully and meticulously survive, the man lives by only one: “Enjoy the little things.”
Still with me? I do have a point to all this. The man, while relieving the undead of the “un” part, is in search of one simple confectionary delight: Twinkies. He tells the loner kid, “Twinkies have an expiration date. One day soon, the Twinkie gauge will be riding on empty, forever.”
It makes for an enjoyable distraction, and by the end of the film, you are really pulling for this guy to get his Twinkie.
After the movie, I reminisced. When I was a kid, my mom made me a sack lunch everyday, and more often than not I either had a Twinkie or a Ho Ho waiting for me in my blue plastic lunch box. Talking about Twinkies, made me realize that it had been years since my last Twinkie or Ho Ho. My wife then commented that our children had probably NEVER had a Twinkie.
Now, while this might not be a global emergency (unlike a zombie virus), I was still a bit shocked. Our children needed to have a Twinkie. If just once in their lives, by God, they needed to experience the savory sweet creamy yellow cake preservative filled delight that is an American snack food tradition! Okay, sometimes I can get a little worked up.
So the next day, I set out on a Twinkie Quest. First, to Dollar General, finding Little Debbie snack cakes, but no Twinkies. Then to IGA. Again, Little Debbie, but no Twinkies. The quest continued to Casey’s General Store. You guessed it, a mostly empty rack reserved for Little Debbie, but nothing even slightly resembling a Hostess product.
At that point, I realized that Hostess must contract with different stores, and they probably have some kind of competition clause, like Pepsi and Coke. Maybe Little Debbie outlets can’t get Hostess products. Maybe Hostess doesn’t serve Northwest Kansas. Apparently, my family lives in a veritable Twinkie “dead zone.”
The quest ended at Cameron’s. Just as I was about to leave, I noticed, on an otherwise empty counter, a single package of two cream-filled oblong yellow cakes. They weren’t exactly Twinkies (they were an off brand and I don’t remember the name) but they looked exactly like Twinkies. I felt like I had found the last Twinkies (albeit imitation Twinkies) on the face of the Earth.
We served them to the kids sliced like bananas, carefully rationing each bite. The kids liked them. Not loved them. Not the kind of love that only a daily dose in your lunch box can inspire. But for me, the food wasn’t as important as the lessons learned.
First, the adventure reminded me not to take things for granted. You never know when something, or someone, will suddenly become rare or non-existent.
Second, it brought home the message of a ridiculous, but highly enjoyable movie: Enjoy the little things. In the end, everything an expiration date.
To our delight, the movie was not only funny, but also incredibly warm-hearted. Afterwards, my wife and I agreed that it was “the feel good movie of the year!”
As with any great movie, the strength of Zombieland is found in the characters. The main character is an introverted college kid who survives by his wits and his general distrust of all people, zombie or not. He becomes obsessed with creating rules for survival and the longer he lives, the longer his list becomes.
Then this loner kid meets a man who not only survives, but actually enjoys the ride. Before the virus, he was an average guy, but now he is a zombie killer deluxe. While the loner lives by dozens of rules to carefully and meticulously survive, the man lives by only one: “Enjoy the little things.”
Still with me? I do have a point to all this. The man, while relieving the undead of the “un” part, is in search of one simple confectionary delight: Twinkies. He tells the loner kid, “Twinkies have an expiration date. One day soon, the Twinkie gauge will be riding on empty, forever.”
It makes for an enjoyable distraction, and by the end of the film, you are really pulling for this guy to get his Twinkie.
After the movie, I reminisced. When I was a kid, my mom made me a sack lunch everyday, and more often than not I either had a Twinkie or a Ho Ho waiting for me in my blue plastic lunch box. Talking about Twinkies, made me realize that it had been years since my last Twinkie or Ho Ho. My wife then commented that our children had probably NEVER had a Twinkie.
Now, while this might not be a global emergency (unlike a zombie virus), I was still a bit shocked. Our children needed to have a Twinkie. If just once in their lives, by God, they needed to experience the savory sweet creamy yellow cake preservative filled delight that is an American snack food tradition! Okay, sometimes I can get a little worked up.
So the next day, I set out on a Twinkie Quest. First, to Dollar General, finding Little Debbie snack cakes, but no Twinkies. Then to IGA. Again, Little Debbie, but no Twinkies. The quest continued to Casey’s General Store. You guessed it, a mostly empty rack reserved for Little Debbie, but nothing even slightly resembling a Hostess product.
At that point, I realized that Hostess must contract with different stores, and they probably have some kind of competition clause, like Pepsi and Coke. Maybe Little Debbie outlets can’t get Hostess products. Maybe Hostess doesn’t serve Northwest Kansas. Apparently, my family lives in a veritable Twinkie “dead zone.”
The quest ended at Cameron’s. Just as I was about to leave, I noticed, on an otherwise empty counter, a single package of two cream-filled oblong yellow cakes. They weren’t exactly Twinkies (they were an off brand and I don’t remember the name) but they looked exactly like Twinkies. I felt like I had found the last Twinkies (albeit imitation Twinkies) on the face of the Earth.
We served them to the kids sliced like bananas, carefully rationing each bite. The kids liked them. Not loved them. Not the kind of love that only a daily dose in your lunch box can inspire. But for me, the food wasn’t as important as the lessons learned.
First, the adventure reminded me not to take things for granted. You never know when something, or someone, will suddenly become rare or non-existent.
Second, it brought home the message of a ridiculous, but highly enjoyable movie: Enjoy the little things. In the end, everything an expiration date.
Nye (09-28-09)
Nye. I first heard that word a couple of weeks ago at a junior high football game. “And the tackle is made by a nye of Ringnecks!”
When I first heard it, I didn’t know what I was hearing. I thought, perhaps, the announcer was trying to be cute, saying an eye of Ringnecks, like an eye of a hurricane. But then I heard it again, and again, and then at the high school homecoming football game.
The other day, I received an email from my good friend Chris Gansel, asking if the term indeed meant “flock.”
So I looked up nye and found all sorts of collective nouns. Under “pheasants” I found nye, head, bouquet and warren.
Chris dared me (actually he double-dog-dared me!) to say over the PA when I announced the Junior-Ringneck game, “the tackle was made by a bouquet of Ringnecks!” I told him no, not even if he triple-dog-dared me.
But all this talk about collective nouns got me interested. So I spent some time on the net, looking at more grammar websites than I care to mention. The number of websites devoted to collective nouns is staggering. Good to see the English language is so well represented on the net!
This is what I found. My further research turned up even more collective terms for pheasants, including covey, nest, and nide, although the terms nide and nye apparently are only used to describe pheasants “on the ground” with nide signifying a brood, and nye being the general term for grounded Ringnecks. Bouquet, I came to learn, is used to describe pheasants when flushed, leading me to think that maybe bouquet would be the best word to use when comparing football players to flying birds.
Looking up the other bird mascots in our league, I found aerie and convocation for the Trego Eagles, band, party, and scold for the Norton Blue Jays, and college, concave, deck, radiance, and Vatican (yes, with a capital “V” no less!) for the Plainville Cardinals.
Finding collective terms for our non-bird league mascots was more of a challenge. For the Stockton Tigers, I found streak and ambush. I can just hear an announcer calling out, “and the streak of Tigers are steaking across the field!” Certainly creates an image!
I had to get creative to find the collective terms for the Phillispburg Panthers, Osborne Bulldogs, and Smith Center Redmen (and I’m not even going to attempt the Ellis Railroaders!) While I could find nothing for panthers specifically, for “cats” I found clowder, clutter, glaring and pounce. The list also contains dout and nuisance as well as kendle and kindle, but those signify house cats and kittens, which might offend the more literate of the Phillipsburg fans.
Osborne has perhaps the most boring collective terms for their mascot, although again I had to switch to “dogs” in place of the specific “bull dogs.” I found only kennel and the familiar pack. However, one website, did list cry and mute to signify hounds, and my favorite, cowardice for “curs.”
(No, Chris Gansel, I don’t care is you quadruple-dog-dare-me, I will NEVER announce an Osborne play as being made by a “cowardice of Bulldogs.” That would be insulting to them, and frankly I suffer from too much cowardice myself to ever go there.)
As for Smith Center, well I couldn’t find any “official” words denoting a collection of Redmen. On www.Answers.com is posted the question, “What is the collective noun for Indians?” Underneath the question is the statement: “This question has not been answered yet” with a place to click to submit your answer. So, anyone’s guess is as good as another. How about powwow, or warriors or ambush or even mob?
My favorite collective noun is not for one of the mascots in our league, or even for any mascot I know, though I suppose somewhere in our wide world of sports, some team calls themselves the “rhinoceroses” (or would that be “rhinoceri”?).
The collective term is crash. Now that is a announcer’s dream word for describing a group of determined young men crashing through the line and crashing into the ball carrier. Go Rhinos!
The best part of all this research was discovering the brilliance of language. Collective terms, while sometimes strange and unusual, can also be incredibly descriptive and evoke powerful images. Collective terms are fun, whether saying a “Vatican of Cardinals” or a “pounce of Panthers” or even a “nye of Ringnecks!”
When I first heard it, I didn’t know what I was hearing. I thought, perhaps, the announcer was trying to be cute, saying an eye of Ringnecks, like an eye of a hurricane. But then I heard it again, and again, and then at the high school homecoming football game.
The other day, I received an email from my good friend Chris Gansel, asking if the term indeed meant “flock.”
So I looked up nye and found all sorts of collective nouns. Under “pheasants” I found nye, head, bouquet and warren.
Chris dared me (actually he double-dog-dared me!) to say over the PA when I announced the Junior-Ringneck game, “the tackle was made by a bouquet of Ringnecks!” I told him no, not even if he triple-dog-dared me.
But all this talk about collective nouns got me interested. So I spent some time on the net, looking at more grammar websites than I care to mention. The number of websites devoted to collective nouns is staggering. Good to see the English language is so well represented on the net!
This is what I found. My further research turned up even more collective terms for pheasants, including covey, nest, and nide, although the terms nide and nye apparently are only used to describe pheasants “on the ground” with nide signifying a brood, and nye being the general term for grounded Ringnecks. Bouquet, I came to learn, is used to describe pheasants when flushed, leading me to think that maybe bouquet would be the best word to use when comparing football players to flying birds.
Looking up the other bird mascots in our league, I found aerie and convocation for the Trego Eagles, band, party, and scold for the Norton Blue Jays, and college, concave, deck, radiance, and Vatican (yes, with a capital “V” no less!) for the Plainville Cardinals.
Finding collective terms for our non-bird league mascots was more of a challenge. For the Stockton Tigers, I found streak and ambush. I can just hear an announcer calling out, “and the streak of Tigers are steaking across the field!” Certainly creates an image!
I had to get creative to find the collective terms for the Phillispburg Panthers, Osborne Bulldogs, and Smith Center Redmen (and I’m not even going to attempt the Ellis Railroaders!) While I could find nothing for panthers specifically, for “cats” I found clowder, clutter, glaring and pounce. The list also contains dout and nuisance as well as kendle and kindle, but those signify house cats and kittens, which might offend the more literate of the Phillipsburg fans.
Osborne has perhaps the most boring collective terms for their mascot, although again I had to switch to “dogs” in place of the specific “bull dogs.” I found only kennel and the familiar pack. However, one website, did list cry and mute to signify hounds, and my favorite, cowardice for “curs.”
(No, Chris Gansel, I don’t care is you quadruple-dog-dare-me, I will NEVER announce an Osborne play as being made by a “cowardice of Bulldogs.” That would be insulting to them, and frankly I suffer from too much cowardice myself to ever go there.)
As for Smith Center, well I couldn’t find any “official” words denoting a collection of Redmen. On www.Answers.com is posted the question, “What is the collective noun for Indians?” Underneath the question is the statement: “This question has not been answered yet” with a place to click to submit your answer. So, anyone’s guess is as good as another. How about powwow, or warriors or ambush or even mob?
My favorite collective noun is not for one of the mascots in our league, or even for any mascot I know, though I suppose somewhere in our wide world of sports, some team calls themselves the “rhinoceroses” (or would that be “rhinoceri”?).
The collective term is crash. Now that is a announcer’s dream word for describing a group of determined young men crashing through the line and crashing into the ball carrier. Go Rhinos!
The best part of all this research was discovering the brilliance of language. Collective terms, while sometimes strange and unusual, can also be incredibly descriptive and evoke powerful images. Collective terms are fun, whether saying a “Vatican of Cardinals” or a “pounce of Panthers” or even a “nye of Ringnecks!”
That Old Feeling (09-21-09)
Saturday I got to do something I haven’t done for fifteen years: coach volleyball.
Now, as a small town principal, I am used to wearing a lot of hats. In the last four years, I have mopped floors and taught in classrooms, answered phones and built bookshelves. I have served food and taken out trash, driven suburbans and painted walls. Every now and then I even get to be a principal.
But before Saturday, I had never before been asked to coach.
This is not a bad thing. Of all my skills, coaching an athletic team is at the bottom of the list. Growing up in a big city, attending large schools, and not being much of an athlete, I never played any organized sports in school. Sure, there were plenty of pick up games, and I played a lot of tennis with friends, but I never was part of a team.
Then, during my first two years of teaching, I was given the opportunity to assist the Wheatland Junior High girls’ coach. Wheatland was such a small school, that both 7th and 8th grade shared a gym class at the end of the day, which was when they practiced junior high sports. During my first two years, my prep period happened to fall on the last hour. Seeing my lack of athletic experience, the superintendent encouraged me to help out with the junior high practices. Before I knew it, I was an unofficial assistant coach.
I was not paid to help, but the experience compensated me in many other ways. First, I finally got to feel what it was like to be part of a team. The camaraderie, the feeling that I was part of something bigger than myself, the adrenaline rush of competition, all these were tremendous rewards.
I also learned that while I could not play the sports I was coaching, I could still contribute as a motivator. While the head coach went over technique, I could offer my observations about things like teamwork, attitude and visualization. Overall, it was a tremendously thrilling time in my life.
My third year, the schedule changed and my prep period no longer lined up with gym/practice. I was content to lead the forensics teams, the student council, and direct four plays a year. I suppose growing up teamless made me a bit of a “team junkie,” as I have enjoyed leading teams (or directing plays) my entire career.
So when Coach Schulz asked if I could fill in as the “C” team coach during the Felton tournament on Saturday (during the times that all three teams were scheduled to play simultaneously), I was hesitant, nervous, but also excited. Basically, that old feeling had returned! I was part of a team again, and though I didn’t have the technical expertise, I could do my best to motivate.
We lost the first match in two games, mainly because of our serving. I talked to the girls about concentration and visualization. Mainly, I told them to slow down. “Breath, smile, and take your time. This is not life or death. This is supposed to be fun.”
I don’t know if my advice did any good, although I will say that the girls won their other three matches, and they did serve a lot better. But winning and losing isn’t the point. Playing together and learning together, winning together and losing together, that’s the value of team sports. There is nothing like being part of a team, and I am glad I got to experience “that old feeling” one more time.
Now, as a small town principal, I am used to wearing a lot of hats. In the last four years, I have mopped floors and taught in classrooms, answered phones and built bookshelves. I have served food and taken out trash, driven suburbans and painted walls. Every now and then I even get to be a principal.
But before Saturday, I had never before been asked to coach.
This is not a bad thing. Of all my skills, coaching an athletic team is at the bottom of the list. Growing up in a big city, attending large schools, and not being much of an athlete, I never played any organized sports in school. Sure, there were plenty of pick up games, and I played a lot of tennis with friends, but I never was part of a team.
Then, during my first two years of teaching, I was given the opportunity to assist the Wheatland Junior High girls’ coach. Wheatland was such a small school, that both 7th and 8th grade shared a gym class at the end of the day, which was when they practiced junior high sports. During my first two years, my prep period happened to fall on the last hour. Seeing my lack of athletic experience, the superintendent encouraged me to help out with the junior high practices. Before I knew it, I was an unofficial assistant coach.
I was not paid to help, but the experience compensated me in many other ways. First, I finally got to feel what it was like to be part of a team. The camaraderie, the feeling that I was part of something bigger than myself, the adrenaline rush of competition, all these were tremendous rewards.
I also learned that while I could not play the sports I was coaching, I could still contribute as a motivator. While the head coach went over technique, I could offer my observations about things like teamwork, attitude and visualization. Overall, it was a tremendously thrilling time in my life.
My third year, the schedule changed and my prep period no longer lined up with gym/practice. I was content to lead the forensics teams, the student council, and direct four plays a year. I suppose growing up teamless made me a bit of a “team junkie,” as I have enjoyed leading teams (or directing plays) my entire career.
So when Coach Schulz asked if I could fill in as the “C” team coach during the Felton tournament on Saturday (during the times that all three teams were scheduled to play simultaneously), I was hesitant, nervous, but also excited. Basically, that old feeling had returned! I was part of a team again, and though I didn’t have the technical expertise, I could do my best to motivate.
We lost the first match in two games, mainly because of our serving. I talked to the girls about concentration and visualization. Mainly, I told them to slow down. “Breath, smile, and take your time. This is not life or death. This is supposed to be fun.”
I don’t know if my advice did any good, although I will say that the girls won their other three matches, and they did serve a lot better. But winning and losing isn’t the point. Playing together and learning together, winning together and losing together, that’s the value of team sports. There is nothing like being part of a team, and I am glad I got to experience “that old feeling” one more time.
Trust (09-14-09)
This week, our students learned a little more about trust. That is not to say that we don’t already have trustworthy students. In fact, I have been repeatedly impressed with the number of times that grade school students have been honest and forthright, especially when admitting a mistake. I always tell kids who come to my office that we can fix any wrong, as long as they are honest. In my opinion, I have found that when kids admit to their behavior, when they take responsibility for their actions, great strides can be made to assure that the mistake doesn’t happen again. I try not to label students as “bad” or as “good”, but I am proud to be able to call most of them “honest.”
As part of our “Character Counts” campaign, we are taking a month or two to cover each of the six pillars. August and September are devoted to “trustworthiness,” and thus we brought in a speaker to talk to the all the students, K-12, about the issue of “trust.”
The speaker is Noalee McDonald-Augustine, a professional development specialist and character education presenter for the Smokey Hill Learning Center. Her specialty is team building, which she primarily teaches on the “rope course” at Fort Hays. However, she is knowledgeable on a wide variety of topics. When she learned that we were covering the pillar of trustworthiness, she came prepared.
We asked quite a lot of this presenter, in that we scheduled her to talk to groups of K-1, 2-4, 5-6, 7-8, and 9-12. She began her day with the K-1, where she read them a Bearenstein Bears book about telling “whoppers”. The book told the tale of how two children broke a rule by playing soccer indoors, which resulted in the breaking of a favorite lamp. When confronted, the children made up a ridiculous tale about a large bird swooping in and destroying the lamp. But soon they change their tune and tell the truth.
To me the best part of the book was the end, where we learned that while the children still occasionally forgot a rule, and even played ball in the house every now and then, from that moment on, they told the truth. The book said that the parents didn’t expect their children to be perfect. They understood that kids would forget and make poor decisions, but that all was okay if they told the truth. Lamps can be fixed or replaced, but trust, once broken, is much harder to repair.
With the 2-4 group and the 5-6 group, Ms. McDonald-Augustine had the children build fragile structures, both out of Jinga blocks and out of pieces of paper. Through the use of symbolism and metaphor she demonstrated how long it takes to build up trust, and how quickly it can be destroyed.
The last part of her day, talking to the 9-12 students and then specifically to the 7-12 student council was done in the high school auditorium. This was Tuesday, when the temperature climbed into the 90’s. With no breeze to speak of, the afternoon session became a sauna, but our speaker soldiered on. She had the kids analyze magazine ads for truthfulness. The student groups, by and large, found the ads to be trustworthy, until Ms. McDonald-Augustine pointed out either the fine print or something “between the lines” to cast doubt on the adds. All of the products, from cell phones to makeup, were targeted at teens, and her point was for our high school students to question who and what they should trust.
Overall, the day got me to thinking a lot about trust. It is the currency I deal in every day. I am as only as good as my word, and my ability to work with teachers, students, and parents depend directly on how much and how well I am believed. Often I have to combat rumor or false perception to keep the trust in tact. I have tried to build a reputation as an administrator who can be trusted. If I say I will do something, I know I had better do it. If I say I did something for a certain reason, that reason had better be true.
Ms. McDonald reminded me that trust is a precious thing. That is a lesson you can’t learn enough.
As part of our “Character Counts” campaign, we are taking a month or two to cover each of the six pillars. August and September are devoted to “trustworthiness,” and thus we brought in a speaker to talk to the all the students, K-12, about the issue of “trust.”
The speaker is Noalee McDonald-Augustine, a professional development specialist and character education presenter for the Smokey Hill Learning Center. Her specialty is team building, which she primarily teaches on the “rope course” at Fort Hays. However, she is knowledgeable on a wide variety of topics. When she learned that we were covering the pillar of trustworthiness, she came prepared.
We asked quite a lot of this presenter, in that we scheduled her to talk to groups of K-1, 2-4, 5-6, 7-8, and 9-12. She began her day with the K-1, where she read them a Bearenstein Bears book about telling “whoppers”. The book told the tale of how two children broke a rule by playing soccer indoors, which resulted in the breaking of a favorite lamp. When confronted, the children made up a ridiculous tale about a large bird swooping in and destroying the lamp. But soon they change their tune and tell the truth.
To me the best part of the book was the end, where we learned that while the children still occasionally forgot a rule, and even played ball in the house every now and then, from that moment on, they told the truth. The book said that the parents didn’t expect their children to be perfect. They understood that kids would forget and make poor decisions, but that all was okay if they told the truth. Lamps can be fixed or replaced, but trust, once broken, is much harder to repair.
With the 2-4 group and the 5-6 group, Ms. McDonald-Augustine had the children build fragile structures, both out of Jinga blocks and out of pieces of paper. Through the use of symbolism and metaphor she demonstrated how long it takes to build up trust, and how quickly it can be destroyed.
The last part of her day, talking to the 9-12 students and then specifically to the 7-12 student council was done in the high school auditorium. This was Tuesday, when the temperature climbed into the 90’s. With no breeze to speak of, the afternoon session became a sauna, but our speaker soldiered on. She had the kids analyze magazine ads for truthfulness. The student groups, by and large, found the ads to be trustworthy, until Ms. McDonald-Augustine pointed out either the fine print or something “between the lines” to cast doubt on the adds. All of the products, from cell phones to makeup, were targeted at teens, and her point was for our high school students to question who and what they should trust.
Overall, the day got me to thinking a lot about trust. It is the currency I deal in every day. I am as only as good as my word, and my ability to work with teachers, students, and parents depend directly on how much and how well I am believed. Often I have to combat rumor or false perception to keep the trust in tact. I have tried to build a reputation as an administrator who can be trusted. If I say I will do something, I know I had better do it. If I say I did something for a certain reason, that reason had better be true.
Ms. McDonald reminded me that trust is a precious thing. That is a lesson you can’t learn enough.
Great Start (09-07-09)
It’s junior high volleyball/football season once again, and once again, you’ll find me in stands. This comes as a surprise to many. They assume that now that LMS has officially closed, and HCJH is now officially open under the leadership of our high school principal Alan Stein, what would the elementary principal being doing at junior high ball games?
Working, of course. I suppose large districts can afford the complete separation of buildings, but here at USD 281, we all help out wherever we are needed. And let’s face it, there are just too many activities between junior high and high school for one person to supervise. So I get to keep my junior high activity duties.
Note, I say, “get to keep”. Watching our junior high athletes is actually a lot of fun. They play hard, the games are usually close and hotly contested, and thanks to a set of wonderful parents, there are few disputes that require my attention. Honestly, while my official capacity may that of an administrator, for all practical purposes, I travel as a suburban driver and, most importantly, as a fan.
Thus, I traveled to Stockton this week to watch our new Hill City Junior High Ringnecks battle the Tigers in volleyball and football.
The first thing I noticed right away was how much these kids have grown. Last week, I wrote about grade school growth spurts, but the most dramatic growth often occurs during junior high, especially between the 7th and 8th grade years. Our 8th grade boys, in particular seemed to have taken a step closer to manhood, seeming taller and stronger than I remembered them being last May. The 8th girls, as well, seemed to walk with more of a swagger, as if to say, “Yep, I’m all grown up now!”
The 7th grade students also seemed different, more confident, and happy now to be in junior high. After watching many of these kids play rec sports the last few years, it was a little surreal seeing them suit up in regulation uniforms, with KSHSAA refs, playing in games that hold a little more significance than recreation ball.
Of course, with the increased attention, comes increased pressure. The first game I saw, our 7th grade or “B team” girls, this pressure was obvious from the first serve. Our girls looked tentative, unsure of themselves, doubting their new status as junior high players.
The first game went to the Tigers, but only because it took a while for our girls to warm up to the idea that, yes, they did belong on the same court. Watching each serve was like watching a flower slowly blossom. Each hit brought more confidence and each point our team looked better and better.
The second game, the seventh grade girls continued to play with confidence, and we won games two and three pretty much going away. The B team had arrived!
The 8th grade A team started with that swagger I mentioned earlier. They served well and played hard, winning the first game handily. But then the Tiger girls, buoyed perhaps by their home crowd, found their stroke, and I saw two games of wonderfully competitive volleyball. And though both games and the match went to Stockton, our girls showed enough flash that I know they will win their share this season.
When I walked out to the football field, I heard the announcer declare, “Touchdown Ringnecks!” As it was just after 6:00, I assumed we scored first, though after we failed to score the two-point conversion, I saw the scoreboard read 6 to 6. Then Stockton returned the ensuing kickoff for as touchdown, so with just a couple of minutes off the clock, the score already read 12-6.
But like our 7th grade volleyball team, once the boys settled down, the Hill City Junior High Ringnecks were up to the challenge. The Tigers’ defense held for the next couple of drives, but so did our defense. Then we put together a nice drive and punched in the two-point conversion to lead at half time, 14-12.
After half, we scored another 8 points, making the score 22-12. Our defense held them most of the game, though the Tigers did keep on fighting, and were eventually able to get six late in the game. The Ringnecks were able to get the ball down to the Tiger one yard line with two seconds remaining, but our classy coaches told the QB to take a knee, and we won the game 22-18.
All in all, it was a great start to the year. I’ll see you next Thursday, when we go again, versus Osborne.
Working, of course. I suppose large districts can afford the complete separation of buildings, but here at USD 281, we all help out wherever we are needed. And let’s face it, there are just too many activities between junior high and high school for one person to supervise. So I get to keep my junior high activity duties.
Note, I say, “get to keep”. Watching our junior high athletes is actually a lot of fun. They play hard, the games are usually close and hotly contested, and thanks to a set of wonderful parents, there are few disputes that require my attention. Honestly, while my official capacity may that of an administrator, for all practical purposes, I travel as a suburban driver and, most importantly, as a fan.
Thus, I traveled to Stockton this week to watch our new Hill City Junior High Ringnecks battle the Tigers in volleyball and football.
The first thing I noticed right away was how much these kids have grown. Last week, I wrote about grade school growth spurts, but the most dramatic growth often occurs during junior high, especially between the 7th and 8th grade years. Our 8th grade boys, in particular seemed to have taken a step closer to manhood, seeming taller and stronger than I remembered them being last May. The 8th girls, as well, seemed to walk with more of a swagger, as if to say, “Yep, I’m all grown up now!”
The 7th grade students also seemed different, more confident, and happy now to be in junior high. After watching many of these kids play rec sports the last few years, it was a little surreal seeing them suit up in regulation uniforms, with KSHSAA refs, playing in games that hold a little more significance than recreation ball.
Of course, with the increased attention, comes increased pressure. The first game I saw, our 7th grade or “B team” girls, this pressure was obvious from the first serve. Our girls looked tentative, unsure of themselves, doubting their new status as junior high players.
The first game went to the Tigers, but only because it took a while for our girls to warm up to the idea that, yes, they did belong on the same court. Watching each serve was like watching a flower slowly blossom. Each hit brought more confidence and each point our team looked better and better.
The second game, the seventh grade girls continued to play with confidence, and we won games two and three pretty much going away. The B team had arrived!
The 8th grade A team started with that swagger I mentioned earlier. They served well and played hard, winning the first game handily. But then the Tiger girls, buoyed perhaps by their home crowd, found their stroke, and I saw two games of wonderfully competitive volleyball. And though both games and the match went to Stockton, our girls showed enough flash that I know they will win their share this season.
When I walked out to the football field, I heard the announcer declare, “Touchdown Ringnecks!” As it was just after 6:00, I assumed we scored first, though after we failed to score the two-point conversion, I saw the scoreboard read 6 to 6. Then Stockton returned the ensuing kickoff for as touchdown, so with just a couple of minutes off the clock, the score already read 12-6.
But like our 7th grade volleyball team, once the boys settled down, the Hill City Junior High Ringnecks were up to the challenge. The Tigers’ defense held for the next couple of drives, but so did our defense. Then we put together a nice drive and punched in the two-point conversion to lead at half time, 14-12.
After half, we scored another 8 points, making the score 22-12. Our defense held them most of the game, though the Tigers did keep on fighting, and were eventually able to get six late in the game. The Ringnecks were able to get the ball down to the Tiger one yard line with two seconds remaining, but our classy coaches told the QB to take a knee, and we won the game 22-18.
All in all, it was a great start to the year. I’ll see you next Thursday, when we go again, versus Osborne.
Memory Issues (08-31-09)
This is the time of year that my memory gets tested the most. While absence may make the heart grow fonder, it plays havoc on my mind.
Three months, while not a long time for adults, can be a very long time in the life of a child. My own son grew an inch and a half over the summer, and he hasn’t even hit a growth spurt. Those growing rapidly can gain several inches over the summer, leaving school in May the same height as their classmates, returning to school as one of the tallest in their class. Whereas my previous perspective had been the top of their head, now I am looking them in the eyes, without having to lean over. All this makes recognition that much more of a challenge!
There are times I think I can actually hear the wheels spinning in my head. I’ll see a familiar face. I’ll instantly know the last name, the name of a sibling, and for some odd reason, I’ll know where Mom works. However, the most important piece of information, the name of the student, escapes me.
Or I’ll see a student and think I know the name, only to embarrass myself by calling the student by the name of their older sister, or sometimes by the name of another student entirely. Sometimes, I know the name, but I can’t recall what grade they are in.
I take a lot of pride in my knowledge of the names of my students. I believe that it is the first duty of any administrator: be able to call every student by name. But it is far from easy, and with each passing year, it seems to get more difficult.
If my brain were a computer, it would be Commodore 64, vintage 1986. I grew up in the days of three channels on the television, black and white video games, and no VCR’s, DVD’s, or Internet. “Multi-tasking” meant walking AND chewing gum.
So even in my mental prime, my memory recall was always a tad slow. My disk drive chugs along, and yes, it will retrieve the data eventually. You just may have to time it with an hour-glass.
Last week found me working at the recall of names. I think the students enjoy this interaction. In the hallways before school, or during lunch, I’ll go up and down a line of students, doing my best to name them. Some kids love to give me hints such as a first letter, or the name of a sibling. After I get the names of all the students in the group, I go back over the line a couple of more time to cement the names in the quicksand of my mind.
Repetition is the key. I have memorized entire play scripts, simply by saying the lines over and over, usually aloud, while pacing alone in a room. I add inflection and some dramatic emphasis to provide context. Memorizing the names of students isn’t much different. Knowing the family, the teachers, the hobbies and activities, favorite colors and favorite foods, all of these are little handles for me to grasp to pull the suitcase of information out of the mineshaft of my memory.
I ask the students for their patience. I am not getting any younger, and my memory is not getting any sharper. I am thankful that I work with such understanding people. Yeah, they may laugh at my mistakes, but they are patient. They know I’ll get their names down soon. In the meantime, like an old computer, I just keep plugging away.
Oh, and one more thing…uhm…it was just on the tip of my tongue…what I wanted to say was…uhm…well I guess I forgot. I hope I can remember what I was going to write in time for next week’s column!
Three months, while not a long time for adults, can be a very long time in the life of a child. My own son grew an inch and a half over the summer, and he hasn’t even hit a growth spurt. Those growing rapidly can gain several inches over the summer, leaving school in May the same height as their classmates, returning to school as one of the tallest in their class. Whereas my previous perspective had been the top of their head, now I am looking them in the eyes, without having to lean over. All this makes recognition that much more of a challenge!
There are times I think I can actually hear the wheels spinning in my head. I’ll see a familiar face. I’ll instantly know the last name, the name of a sibling, and for some odd reason, I’ll know where Mom works. However, the most important piece of information, the name of the student, escapes me.
Or I’ll see a student and think I know the name, only to embarrass myself by calling the student by the name of their older sister, or sometimes by the name of another student entirely. Sometimes, I know the name, but I can’t recall what grade they are in.
I take a lot of pride in my knowledge of the names of my students. I believe that it is the first duty of any administrator: be able to call every student by name. But it is far from easy, and with each passing year, it seems to get more difficult.
If my brain were a computer, it would be Commodore 64, vintage 1986. I grew up in the days of three channels on the television, black and white video games, and no VCR’s, DVD’s, or Internet. “Multi-tasking” meant walking AND chewing gum.
So even in my mental prime, my memory recall was always a tad slow. My disk drive chugs along, and yes, it will retrieve the data eventually. You just may have to time it with an hour-glass.
Last week found me working at the recall of names. I think the students enjoy this interaction. In the hallways before school, or during lunch, I’ll go up and down a line of students, doing my best to name them. Some kids love to give me hints such as a first letter, or the name of a sibling. After I get the names of all the students in the group, I go back over the line a couple of more time to cement the names in the quicksand of my mind.
Repetition is the key. I have memorized entire play scripts, simply by saying the lines over and over, usually aloud, while pacing alone in a room. I add inflection and some dramatic emphasis to provide context. Memorizing the names of students isn’t much different. Knowing the family, the teachers, the hobbies and activities, favorite colors and favorite foods, all of these are little handles for me to grasp to pull the suitcase of information out of the mineshaft of my memory.
I ask the students for their patience. I am not getting any younger, and my memory is not getting any sharper. I am thankful that I work with such understanding people. Yeah, they may laugh at my mistakes, but they are patient. They know I’ll get their names down soon. In the meantime, like an old computer, I just keep plugging away.
Oh, and one more thing…uhm…it was just on the tip of my tongue…what I wanted to say was…uhm…well I guess I forgot. I hope I can remember what I was going to write in time for next week’s column!
Kid Buzz (08-24-09)
On Thursday, August 20, 2009, the first day of the 2009-2010 academic year, I was buzzed. Buzzed on kids, that is. Filled with energy and good vibrations. Walking on sunshine, lighter than air. Adrenaline rush and cosmic high, all wrapped into one.
It was amazing, just how good I felt. I was like a kid in a toy store. I just couldn’t see everything fast enough, couldn’t stop myself from smiling, couldn’t stop to relax or reflect. I was in constant motion. I was buzzed.
I attribute much of this phenomena, which I call “kid buzz” to the fact that I work in a virtually empty building for three months out of each year. I’m not knocking our superintendent, or our custodians, or my secretary or any of the other people I worked with this summer. They were all great, and we accomplished much during the “break.” I use the quotations, because for us there wasn’t really a break…we all worked hard right up to the minute we held our first classes.
However, nothing can compare with the energy, the excitement, the sense of promise that accompanies grade school kids on the first day of school. And for me, the buzz was even more intense as our daughter Jocelyn started kindergarten this year. She has been literally counting down the days, marking them off her “Fancy Nancy” calendar in black crayon, in eager anticipation.
So from the moment I got up, I was around this buzzing, wired, enthusiastic kid, asking me if we can go yet. My son Nathan, who begins fourth grade was also excited, as he loves science, and there is no better place to learn science than in school.
My oldest daughter was beginning high school, another huge milestone. I suspect she was more nervous than eager, mentioning a worry that the seniors would “eat her.”
So even before I ever stepped in the school that first day, my house was alive with an intensity usually reserved for Christmas morning. Then, we arrive at school, and I was plunged into a reverie of hugs and high fives, of salutations welcoming everyone back with warm wishes for a great first day.
I helped out at breakfast and lunch, and we got through the kindergarten’s first exposure to our cafeteria. It was hectic and confusing, joyful and rewarding. I helped out during recess and watched the new third graders take advantage of their “field privileges” for the first time. The fourth grade immediately started a game of soccer as if they had never ended the previous game on the last day of school in May. I taught the third grade how to play ultimate football, and I had to sadly break the news to the fifth and sixth grade that yes, the rule of no touch football still applies (they never seem to remember that one!)
I took picture after principal pic, of kids hanging upside down on monkey bars, and giving each other hugs in the hallways. I tied the shoes of a first grader. I talked with each class about staying off the “sand pile” left by the asphalt crew and warned the young kids that the porta-potty currently used by the roofers, was NOT a playhouse.
The time just flew. Most people lament how fast summer goes, and in some ways I concur. But time in an almost empty building always seems to go slow. Only when the kids return does the clock begin to run, and run, and run. Time itself seemed energized by the presence of 150 young minds, and before I knew it, the day was done.
I couldn’t tell you what I ate for lunch, and I barely remember sitting down. When the last student left to calls of “See you tomorrow!” I took a deep breath and suddenly felt very tired. Kid buzz, like any other, drains you of energy as fast as it fills you up.
Of course, after a good nights sleep, I was ready to do it all over again, thankful to have a best job working with the best kids who give me the best kid buzz.
It was amazing, just how good I felt. I was like a kid in a toy store. I just couldn’t see everything fast enough, couldn’t stop myself from smiling, couldn’t stop to relax or reflect. I was in constant motion. I was buzzed.
I attribute much of this phenomena, which I call “kid buzz” to the fact that I work in a virtually empty building for three months out of each year. I’m not knocking our superintendent, or our custodians, or my secretary or any of the other people I worked with this summer. They were all great, and we accomplished much during the “break.” I use the quotations, because for us there wasn’t really a break…we all worked hard right up to the minute we held our first classes.
However, nothing can compare with the energy, the excitement, the sense of promise that accompanies grade school kids on the first day of school. And for me, the buzz was even more intense as our daughter Jocelyn started kindergarten this year. She has been literally counting down the days, marking them off her “Fancy Nancy” calendar in black crayon, in eager anticipation.
So from the moment I got up, I was around this buzzing, wired, enthusiastic kid, asking me if we can go yet. My son Nathan, who begins fourth grade was also excited, as he loves science, and there is no better place to learn science than in school.
My oldest daughter was beginning high school, another huge milestone. I suspect she was more nervous than eager, mentioning a worry that the seniors would “eat her.”
So even before I ever stepped in the school that first day, my house was alive with an intensity usually reserved for Christmas morning. Then, we arrive at school, and I was plunged into a reverie of hugs and high fives, of salutations welcoming everyone back with warm wishes for a great first day.
I helped out at breakfast and lunch, and we got through the kindergarten’s first exposure to our cafeteria. It was hectic and confusing, joyful and rewarding. I helped out during recess and watched the new third graders take advantage of their “field privileges” for the first time. The fourth grade immediately started a game of soccer as if they had never ended the previous game on the last day of school in May. I taught the third grade how to play ultimate football, and I had to sadly break the news to the fifth and sixth grade that yes, the rule of no touch football still applies (they never seem to remember that one!)
I took picture after principal pic, of kids hanging upside down on monkey bars, and giving each other hugs in the hallways. I tied the shoes of a first grader. I talked with each class about staying off the “sand pile” left by the asphalt crew and warned the young kids that the porta-potty currently used by the roofers, was NOT a playhouse.
The time just flew. Most people lament how fast summer goes, and in some ways I concur. But time in an almost empty building always seems to go slow. Only when the kids return does the clock begin to run, and run, and run. Time itself seemed energized by the presence of 150 young minds, and before I knew it, the day was done.
I couldn’t tell you what I ate for lunch, and I barely remember sitting down. When the last student left to calls of “See you tomorrow!” I took a deep breath and suddenly felt very tired. Kid buzz, like any other, drains you of energy as fast as it fills you up.
Of course, after a good nights sleep, I was ready to do it all over again, thankful to have a best job working with the best kids who give me the best kid buzz.
Our (08-17-09)
Our. Is there a nicer word in the English language? It says so much. Our lives. Our world. Our country. Our state. Our town. Our school. Our children. Our future. It says that we are in this together. We all have a part to play and we all have ownership in something.
The 2009-2010 theme for Hill City Grade School is “Our character counts.” It is a continuation of last year’s theme, “It’s our world. We care.” It continues the idea that the education and the success of our children is up to us. All of us.
This is an important year for our kids, in that it marks the beginning of an effort to formally examine and discuss character. I am thrilled to part of the “Character Counts” district wide character education program, and I have great hopes for our ability to use the program to instill in our children positive character traits.
The program is based on the six pillars of Trustworthiness, Respect, Responsibility, Fairness, Caring and Citizenship (together, the first letter of each spells TRRFCC!). These pillars are not curriculum, or content to be explicitly taught. Rather they represent an underlying foundation upon which we believe our students can learn. The pillars remind us that good character sustains all else we accomplish.
Of course, our schools have always been teaching kids about good character. I have had countless conversations with kids about choices they have made and the impact of their behavior.
The thing is, though, the conversations I have are bound to be somewhat different than the conversations Mr. Stein has with his students, or different than the conversations the teachers or the bus drivers or the cooks have with students.
All of this talk about character has already had a positive impact. Our students, by and large, regularly make positive behavior choices and demonstrator good character on a regular basis. But for all our successes, we as a district asked ourselves if we could do an even better job of teaching character education to kids.
Reflection on this central question led to our decision to adopt the Character Counts Six Pillar model. Now, the conversations will use a common vocabulary, the message delivered will be more consistent, and the very definition of what makes for good character will be clearly explained in every classroom, every hallway, every bus, and every other space in our school.
What is most exciting is the fact that our staff has bought into this program. First through the steering committee, then though a district leadership team, and finally through district in-service training, our teachers and staff seem to understand and support the effort to present a consistent, district-wide message about character.
This year I chose to approach the creation of a yearly theme differently. Instead of coming up with the theme all on my own, I asked for teacher input (and I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Times for moving back my deadline to give me a chance to ask the teachers for their input!). It didn’t take long for them to decide. This is the year we are introducing Character Counts. Everyone seems excited and optimistic about the program. Everyone is on board and we are ready to do our part.
It is our character education program. It will affect our kids. And, at the end of the day, it our character that counts the most in the success of each and every student.
The 2009-2010 theme for Hill City Grade School is “Our character counts.” It is a continuation of last year’s theme, “It’s our world. We care.” It continues the idea that the education and the success of our children is up to us. All of us.
This is an important year for our kids, in that it marks the beginning of an effort to formally examine and discuss character. I am thrilled to part of the “Character Counts” district wide character education program, and I have great hopes for our ability to use the program to instill in our children positive character traits.
The program is based on the six pillars of Trustworthiness, Respect, Responsibility, Fairness, Caring and Citizenship (together, the first letter of each spells TRRFCC!). These pillars are not curriculum, or content to be explicitly taught. Rather they represent an underlying foundation upon which we believe our students can learn. The pillars remind us that good character sustains all else we accomplish.
Of course, our schools have always been teaching kids about good character. I have had countless conversations with kids about choices they have made and the impact of their behavior.
The thing is, though, the conversations I have are bound to be somewhat different than the conversations Mr. Stein has with his students, or different than the conversations the teachers or the bus drivers or the cooks have with students.
All of this talk about character has already had a positive impact. Our students, by and large, regularly make positive behavior choices and demonstrator good character on a regular basis. But for all our successes, we as a district asked ourselves if we could do an even better job of teaching character education to kids.
Reflection on this central question led to our decision to adopt the Character Counts Six Pillar model. Now, the conversations will use a common vocabulary, the message delivered will be more consistent, and the very definition of what makes for good character will be clearly explained in every classroom, every hallway, every bus, and every other space in our school.
What is most exciting is the fact that our staff has bought into this program. First through the steering committee, then though a district leadership team, and finally through district in-service training, our teachers and staff seem to understand and support the effort to present a consistent, district-wide message about character.
This year I chose to approach the creation of a yearly theme differently. Instead of coming up with the theme all on my own, I asked for teacher input (and I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Times for moving back my deadline to give me a chance to ask the teachers for their input!). It didn’t take long for them to decide. This is the year we are introducing Character Counts. Everyone seems excited and optimistic about the program. Everyone is on board and we are ready to do our part.
It is our character education program. It will affect our kids. And, at the end of the day, it our character that counts the most in the success of each and every student.
A Rural Celebration (8-03-09)
As I walked around the Graham County Fair this week, I could not help but appreciate the life we live here in rural America. Fair time is perhaps the best time to live in the country. All the simple pleasures we enjoy are put on display. During the fair, we feel safe, safe enough to let our kids run around and safe enough to leave our vehicles unlocked. During the fair we celebrate horseback riding and raising livestock. At the fair, our businesses show off their wares and our crafts are judged, recognized, and honored. Perhaps the greatest aspect of small town life that is so evident at a county fair is the one thing we take for granted each and every day: our friendship with each other.
I must have greeted or been greeted by over a hundred people during the two nights my family and I walked the fair grounds. Of course I saw students and parents, but I also saw many other friends and neighbors. In that respect, our county fair is kind of like a large family reunion. We may not be related by blood, but we are connected in our common choice we made to live in the country.
Whenever I meet someone who, like myself, was not raised in a small town, but rather chose to live here, I always ask, “Why Hill City? Why Graham County? How in the world did you end up living in Northwest Kansas?” I am fascinated with the stories I hear.
Usually, the reasons for settling in this part of the world have to do with employment or with family, the usual reasons for any move. I found myself in Grainfield only because they offered me a job. My wife and I moved back here both because of employment and to be closer to her family in Quinter.
Yet, family and employment will only keep a person in one place for so long. Living far from population centers can take a toll if you don’t truly enjoy the rural lifestyle. Some people who move here don’t stay very long, and often our kids, upon graduating high school, express an interest in living in somewhere else, some place larger and more exciting.
Yet, some do choose to live and work and raise their families here, in love with the quality of life they have discovered. Some of those same kids who moved away chose to return as adults because after seeing what the city had to offer, they decided that the rural life is indeed a better life?
I realize that it is not that simple. Not everyone has the luxury of being able to choose where they call home. Some people are effectively trapped by their job or other circumstances. But I am talking about those, like myself, who did have a choice, and chose to live here more than anywhere else.
A case in point can be found in one of our newest residents, local chiropractor Bruce Anderson. Now Bruce could live just about anywhere. He is a bit of a jack of all trades, with experience as a musician, a photographer, a producer, a sound engineer, and finally a chiropractor. Not only is he a man of many talents, but his previous employment experience put him in great demand in many fields.
I learned all this talking (or rather listening) to Bruce during the fair. One of the best parts of the fair is the time you have to connect with your friends and neighbors. Maybe it is all the sugar and salt and caffeine, but something about the fair just makes everyone a little friendlier, a bit more willing to take a moment to talk.
Bruce talked about how he chose to live and work in a small town because after living in a city for so many years, he longed for a slower pace in a more caring community. He could have found a job anywhere, but he chose to live hear. And at the fair, among all the small town comforts, all the friends and fried foods, well, our lifestyle just seemed to make sense.
And while throughout each year, there are plenty of times where one can only wonder at the logic of living so far from so much, at the fair the choice becomes the right choice. At the fair we are reminded why we came and why we remained.
It is a great feeling. I will carry that feeling with me until next year, when the things I hold dear are again put on display and celebrated at the county fair.
I must have greeted or been greeted by over a hundred people during the two nights my family and I walked the fair grounds. Of course I saw students and parents, but I also saw many other friends and neighbors. In that respect, our county fair is kind of like a large family reunion. We may not be related by blood, but we are connected in our common choice we made to live in the country.
Whenever I meet someone who, like myself, was not raised in a small town, but rather chose to live here, I always ask, “Why Hill City? Why Graham County? How in the world did you end up living in Northwest Kansas?” I am fascinated with the stories I hear.
Usually, the reasons for settling in this part of the world have to do with employment or with family, the usual reasons for any move. I found myself in Grainfield only because they offered me a job. My wife and I moved back here both because of employment and to be closer to her family in Quinter.
Yet, family and employment will only keep a person in one place for so long. Living far from population centers can take a toll if you don’t truly enjoy the rural lifestyle. Some people who move here don’t stay very long, and often our kids, upon graduating high school, express an interest in living in somewhere else, some place larger and more exciting.
Yet, some do choose to live and work and raise their families here, in love with the quality of life they have discovered. Some of those same kids who moved away chose to return as adults because after seeing what the city had to offer, they decided that the rural life is indeed a better life?
I realize that it is not that simple. Not everyone has the luxury of being able to choose where they call home. Some people are effectively trapped by their job or other circumstances. But I am talking about those, like myself, who did have a choice, and chose to live here more than anywhere else.
A case in point can be found in one of our newest residents, local chiropractor Bruce Anderson. Now Bruce could live just about anywhere. He is a bit of a jack of all trades, with experience as a musician, a photographer, a producer, a sound engineer, and finally a chiropractor. Not only is he a man of many talents, but his previous employment experience put him in great demand in many fields.
I learned all this talking (or rather listening) to Bruce during the fair. One of the best parts of the fair is the time you have to connect with your friends and neighbors. Maybe it is all the sugar and salt and caffeine, but something about the fair just makes everyone a little friendlier, a bit more willing to take a moment to talk.
Bruce talked about how he chose to live and work in a small town because after living in a city for so many years, he longed for a slower pace in a more caring community. He could have found a job anywhere, but he chose to live hear. And at the fair, among all the small town comforts, all the friends and fried foods, well, our lifestyle just seemed to make sense.
And while throughout each year, there are plenty of times where one can only wonder at the logic of living so far from so much, at the fair the choice becomes the right choice. At the fair we are reminded why we came and why we remained.
It is a great feeling. I will carry that feeling with me until next year, when the things I hold dear are again put on display and celebrated at the county fair.
Character Counts (07-27-09)
This week I had the honor of again working with high school students. I met with the FCCLA officers to describe a new character education program and to ask for their help. The program is called “Character Counts” and the district has decided to adopt it across the entire K-12 learning community.
What does that mean? Well, for me it meant meetings, and lots of them. The discussion began early last spring in our steering committee meeting when we examined our character education needs.
The steering committee agreed that we needed a common K-12 program to provide the teachers and staff a common vocabulary to use when addressing students about character. We wanted to become more consistent in the message we got across and more united in our approach.
So we assembled a district leadership team with representatives for every part of school life. Teachers, paras, secretaries, custodians, transportation and administration were all represented. From that meeting, we agreed upon some central things about Character Counts.
First, we wanted to communicate clearly that Character Counts was not an “add-on” but more of a “weave”, meaning that this program was not going to be something that we expected teachers to expressly teach and students to expressly learn. It is not a one year “sit and get” type of thing. We agreed that the “pillars” of the program needed to be emphasized throughout the year so that it would not just be a bunch of colorful posters in the classrooms.
Perhaps the most important decision of the leadership team was to have students talk with other students about good character.
This led to my meeting with the officers of FCCLA. After many discussions with the staff, we determined that both FCCLA and FFA would both be excellent student groups to “kick-off” and introduce the program to the students.
So I explained the program to the kids. It is actually quite simple. Character Counts consists of six pillars: Trustworthiness, Respect, Responsibility, Fairness, Caring, and Citizenship. If you take the first letter of each pillar, it spells out TRRFCC, which can be pronounced TERRIFIC!
I emphasized to the students that it wasn’t essential for them to memorize these six pillars. There will be ample posters and banners in every room, every hallway, and every bus listing the pillars. Rather, we need these student leaders to explain some basic principles about this program.
First, we are going to emphasize each of the pillars throughout the year. We will focus on Trustworthiness in August and September, Respect in October, Responsibility in November and December, Fairness in January, Caring in February and March, and Citizenship in April and May. One way that we will emphasize these pillars during their allotted time is to have high school students talk with grade school students about the pillar and how it relates to what they are doing at that time of year.
Thus, members of the football team will talk with grade school kids about how important it is Trust their teammates. Members of the basketball team will talk about Fairness. The Communities that Care kids can talk about the importance of Citizenship.
So throughout the year, older students will talk with younger students about what it means to have a pillar of good character. And with any luck, we will be able to keep this going year after year, so that by the time my daughter, who will be a kindergartner next year, graduates from Hill City High School, she will not only know the pillars backwards and forwards, she will practice the pillars as part of who she is.
Character education doesn’t happen overnight. I am excited about how we have decided to approach Character Counts, and I can’t wait to see what our wonderful high school students leaders have to say about character as they kick-off the program and as they visit the grade school throughout the year.
What does that mean? Well, for me it meant meetings, and lots of them. The discussion began early last spring in our steering committee meeting when we examined our character education needs.
The steering committee agreed that we needed a common K-12 program to provide the teachers and staff a common vocabulary to use when addressing students about character. We wanted to become more consistent in the message we got across and more united in our approach.
So we assembled a district leadership team with representatives for every part of school life. Teachers, paras, secretaries, custodians, transportation and administration were all represented. From that meeting, we agreed upon some central things about Character Counts.
First, we wanted to communicate clearly that Character Counts was not an “add-on” but more of a “weave”, meaning that this program was not going to be something that we expected teachers to expressly teach and students to expressly learn. It is not a one year “sit and get” type of thing. We agreed that the “pillars” of the program needed to be emphasized throughout the year so that it would not just be a bunch of colorful posters in the classrooms.
Perhaps the most important decision of the leadership team was to have students talk with other students about good character.
This led to my meeting with the officers of FCCLA. After many discussions with the staff, we determined that both FCCLA and FFA would both be excellent student groups to “kick-off” and introduce the program to the students.
So I explained the program to the kids. It is actually quite simple. Character Counts consists of six pillars: Trustworthiness, Respect, Responsibility, Fairness, Caring, and Citizenship. If you take the first letter of each pillar, it spells out TRRFCC, which can be pronounced TERRIFIC!
I emphasized to the students that it wasn’t essential for them to memorize these six pillars. There will be ample posters and banners in every room, every hallway, and every bus listing the pillars. Rather, we need these student leaders to explain some basic principles about this program.
First, we are going to emphasize each of the pillars throughout the year. We will focus on Trustworthiness in August and September, Respect in October, Responsibility in November and December, Fairness in January, Caring in February and March, and Citizenship in April and May. One way that we will emphasize these pillars during their allotted time is to have high school students talk with grade school students about the pillar and how it relates to what they are doing at that time of year.
Thus, members of the football team will talk with grade school kids about how important it is Trust their teammates. Members of the basketball team will talk about Fairness. The Communities that Care kids can talk about the importance of Citizenship.
So throughout the year, older students will talk with younger students about what it means to have a pillar of good character. And with any luck, we will be able to keep this going year after year, so that by the time my daughter, who will be a kindergartner next year, graduates from Hill City High School, she will not only know the pillars backwards and forwards, she will practice the pillars as part of who she is.
Character education doesn’t happen overnight. I am excited about how we have decided to approach Character Counts, and I can’t wait to see what our wonderful high school students leaders have to say about character as they kick-off the program and as they visit the grade school throughout the year.
Facing the Blank Screen (07-20-09)
Almost every week for the last three years, I have sat down at my computer and faced the blank screen. (It used to be a blank piece of paper, but I am fortunate to live in the wondrous age of word processing.) Sometimes I approached the task of writing a weekly column gladly, with topic in hand and a line of thought I just couldn’t wait to get out of my head. More often than not, I have approached the task somewhat reluctantly, with only a whiff of an idea of what I would write.
On those occasions, where the writing of this column seemed akin to pulling my own teeth, I would force myself to concentrate and then, just write. Almost always, once the words began to flow I’d find myself with something say after all, and before I knew it, I would have 600-700 words and another column to send to Jim Logback.
So now I am at it again, after the longest absence I’ve had from our local paper. I could give you all sorts of excuses for my time off. During that period, my wife and I produced the community melodrama. My family has also traveled, going to Quinter and Kansas City. Then there was baseball and t-ball which I helped coach. And I’m sure if I really thought about it, I could find other reasons why I was “just too busy” to compose even a single short column the last month.
But that wouldn’t be the entire story. Really, my lack of columns has as much to do with not having anything to say in the last thirty days. I just couldn’t face that blank screen.
You could call it writer’s block. When I first began this project, I hadn’t intended to write every week, but every week I kept thinking of ideas. But when the ideas were thin, I kept going for the readers – all those thoughtful people who said such nice things about my writing. I knew they would be looking for my column in the paper. I didn’t want to disappoint.
But this summer has been different. Even with all the people I know who have missed my columns this last month, I just couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. The entire routine seemed a little stale.
So I surprised myself this evening by sitting at my computer and facing the blank screen. I still don’t have much to write about. I thought about describing last weekend, when we saw our sixteen-year-old nephew perform in a Kansas City Community Theater production of “High School Musical”. He was cast as the lead, the basketball player turned singing sensation Troy Bolton. I knew he could sing, but I hadn’t realized just how handsome he had become, nor how confident, poised, and overall talented he was. I got to see a flock of teenage girls stand in line for his autograph and I cannot tell you how proud we all were at how well he handled the pressure and attention. Way to go Anthony, we’re proud of you
I could write about painting my office, but really how many words does it take to describe yellow plus blue makes green, the three colors I’ve chosen to brighten up the place. I could write about the melodrama, but I’ve spent the last week burning DVD’s and posting the video to the local cable channel and to YouTube (www.youtube.com/tonleee), so it can speak for itself.
So once again, I find myself with not much to say and a column to write. So why have I bothered?
Because this is what I do. I am not particularly skilled at building or gardening or hunting or golf or any of a hundred other hobbies. But I can write, and writing this column has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. No matter how much I may be intimidated by that blank screen, the honest truth is that I enjoy writing. Even when the writing is difficult…especially when the writing is difficult.
I hope next week I’ll have a more interesting topic. As of right now, I got nothing.
On those occasions, where the writing of this column seemed akin to pulling my own teeth, I would force myself to concentrate and then, just write. Almost always, once the words began to flow I’d find myself with something say after all, and before I knew it, I would have 600-700 words and another column to send to Jim Logback.
So now I am at it again, after the longest absence I’ve had from our local paper. I could give you all sorts of excuses for my time off. During that period, my wife and I produced the community melodrama. My family has also traveled, going to Quinter and Kansas City. Then there was baseball and t-ball which I helped coach. And I’m sure if I really thought about it, I could find other reasons why I was “just too busy” to compose even a single short column the last month.
But that wouldn’t be the entire story. Really, my lack of columns has as much to do with not having anything to say in the last thirty days. I just couldn’t face that blank screen.
You could call it writer’s block. When I first began this project, I hadn’t intended to write every week, but every week I kept thinking of ideas. But when the ideas were thin, I kept going for the readers – all those thoughtful people who said such nice things about my writing. I knew they would be looking for my column in the paper. I didn’t want to disappoint.
But this summer has been different. Even with all the people I know who have missed my columns this last month, I just couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. The entire routine seemed a little stale.
So I surprised myself this evening by sitting at my computer and facing the blank screen. I still don’t have much to write about. I thought about describing last weekend, when we saw our sixteen-year-old nephew perform in a Kansas City Community Theater production of “High School Musical”. He was cast as the lead, the basketball player turned singing sensation Troy Bolton. I knew he could sing, but I hadn’t realized just how handsome he had become, nor how confident, poised, and overall talented he was. I got to see a flock of teenage girls stand in line for his autograph and I cannot tell you how proud we all were at how well he handled the pressure and attention. Way to go Anthony, we’re proud of you
I could write about painting my office, but really how many words does it take to describe yellow plus blue makes green, the three colors I’ve chosen to brighten up the place. I could write about the melodrama, but I’ve spent the last week burning DVD’s and posting the video to the local cable channel and to YouTube (www.youtube.com/tonleee), so it can speak for itself.
So once again, I find myself with not much to say and a column to write. So why have I bothered?
Because this is what I do. I am not particularly skilled at building or gardening or hunting or golf or any of a hundred other hobbies. But I can write, and writing this column has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. No matter how much I may be intimidated by that blank screen, the honest truth is that I enjoy writing. Even when the writing is difficult…especially when the writing is difficult.
I hope next week I’ll have a more interesting topic. As of right now, I got nothing.
Great Receipts (06-22-09)
For the last several weeks, my office has resembled a school supply store. Boxes containing a wealth of teaching materials and educational products were stacked neatly against a wall, four feet high and several feet deep. I was thrilled every time I stepped into my office.
These materials had been acquired through the Shurfine Foods Register Tapes for Education Program. Every year, people give us their Shurfine Receipts for our local store. We then have several incredibly wonderful and diligent volunteers process each receipt.
Processing is a time-consuming task. First, each individual receipt has to be examined. If no tobacco or alcohol was purchased, then the sub-total (before tax amount) is circled. If tobacco and/or alcohol were purchased, the amounts for those purchases had to be crossed off the receipt, and the sub-totals had to be recalculated. The new amount is written at the bottom of the receipt and circled.
After several hundred receipts have had their sub-totals or recalculated sub-totals circled, then the volunteer would begin adding up all the amounts, in order to bundle the receipts in stacks of roughly $10,000. The entire process requires a lot of time and patience. We are so lucky to have people who help us with this arduous task.
However, the rewards for the work are great. We get credit for the amounts totaled on the receipts we send in to the company. We then can use the credits to purchase school supplies and teaching materials from a special catalog the company sends us every year.
I don’t know the dollar equivalent of the credit we receive as the merchandize in the catalog is priced in “points” and not in dollars. However, last year, we processed enough receipts to earn over 280,000 points. I don’t how many individual receipts our faithful volunteers processed, but I do know that the volume was staggering. The processing went on every day for months. We are so thankful for all the Shurfine patrons who gave their receipts for the program and we are so blessed for the volunteers who processed the bags and bags filled with the white slips of paper.
So what did we buy? First, we divided the number of points by the number of grade school teachers and let them chose items from the catalog. The teachers worked in pairs, to share points where possible. Through this program they acquired items both big and small.
We got cubbies, and a wireless PA system, a 20-foot parachute, and a “brain building” game. We found talking microscopes and talking telescopes, ant farms and butterfly pavilions, flip charts and flash cards. From the catalog our teachers ordered CD players and digital cameras, pens and file folders, staplers and hole-punches, soccer balls and basketballs. They ordered magnet cars and magnetic alpha-boards, dry erase markers and a 4x8 porcelain white board. Looking over the boxes, I found something called The ReMARKable Spin Wheel and something else called Carnivorous Creations. There were wiggly eyes and remoldable sculpting beads, reading comprehension sets and biomes of North America.
I could go on, but that gives you an idea. The items ranged from pencils to furniture. All in all we received over 120 free items for our school.
To Shurfine Foods, to Ron Radcliffe and our local grocery store, to the volunteers and workers who processed receipts, and to everyone who thoughtfully donated their receipts, I extend heart-felt thanks on behalf of the teachers and students of Hill City Grade School. The thousands of dollars of free materials will only make us better; these materials only make the educational experience richer and more meaningful for our kids. This is an amazing program, and I hope that we will be able to continue to collect, process, and reap the rewards from all those great receipts.
These materials had been acquired through the Shurfine Foods Register Tapes for Education Program. Every year, people give us their Shurfine Receipts for our local store. We then have several incredibly wonderful and diligent volunteers process each receipt.
Processing is a time-consuming task. First, each individual receipt has to be examined. If no tobacco or alcohol was purchased, then the sub-total (before tax amount) is circled. If tobacco and/or alcohol were purchased, the amounts for those purchases had to be crossed off the receipt, and the sub-totals had to be recalculated. The new amount is written at the bottom of the receipt and circled.
After several hundred receipts have had their sub-totals or recalculated sub-totals circled, then the volunteer would begin adding up all the amounts, in order to bundle the receipts in stacks of roughly $10,000. The entire process requires a lot of time and patience. We are so lucky to have people who help us with this arduous task.
However, the rewards for the work are great. We get credit for the amounts totaled on the receipts we send in to the company. We then can use the credits to purchase school supplies and teaching materials from a special catalog the company sends us every year.
I don’t know the dollar equivalent of the credit we receive as the merchandize in the catalog is priced in “points” and not in dollars. However, last year, we processed enough receipts to earn over 280,000 points. I don’t how many individual receipts our faithful volunteers processed, but I do know that the volume was staggering. The processing went on every day for months. We are so thankful for all the Shurfine patrons who gave their receipts for the program and we are so blessed for the volunteers who processed the bags and bags filled with the white slips of paper.
So what did we buy? First, we divided the number of points by the number of grade school teachers and let them chose items from the catalog. The teachers worked in pairs, to share points where possible. Through this program they acquired items both big and small.
We got cubbies, and a wireless PA system, a 20-foot parachute, and a “brain building” game. We found talking microscopes and talking telescopes, ant farms and butterfly pavilions, flip charts and flash cards. From the catalog our teachers ordered CD players and digital cameras, pens and file folders, staplers and hole-punches, soccer balls and basketballs. They ordered magnet cars and magnetic alpha-boards, dry erase markers and a 4x8 porcelain white board. Looking over the boxes, I found something called The ReMARKable Spin Wheel and something else called Carnivorous Creations. There were wiggly eyes and remoldable sculpting beads, reading comprehension sets and biomes of North America.
I could go on, but that gives you an idea. The items ranged from pencils to furniture. All in all we received over 120 free items for our school.
To Shurfine Foods, to Ron Radcliffe and our local grocery store, to the volunteers and workers who processed receipts, and to everyone who thoughtfully donated their receipts, I extend heart-felt thanks on behalf of the teachers and students of Hill City Grade School. The thousands of dollars of free materials will only make us better; these materials only make the educational experience richer and more meaningful for our kids. This is an amazing program, and I hope that we will be able to continue to collect, process, and reap the rewards from all those great receipts.
Small Town Rescue (06-15-09)
Sometimes, living in a small town can produce large results. Such was the case this weekend, when my mother-in-law’s dog ran away.
We were babysitting little Rolo, a brown and white rat terrier of advanced years. Now Rolo, or “Ro” as we call him, is generally a good little dog, and compared to our two dogs, he is a veritable angel. Ro has always been a dog you could trust. If he gets out of the yard at his home in Quinter, he never travels far nor stays away long.
Saturday morning, that little dog snuck out of our house, with such stealth that at first we thought he was just sleeping out of sight somewhere in the house. A thorough search led us to the conclusion that he was out.
So we hit the streets, both in cars and on foot. We looked under bushes and into backyards. We drove for blocks in every direction. We also told everyone we met about the missing dog.
Reports began to come back of a little brown and white dog running hear and there. We were always a step behind. That trusted little dog had turned fugitive and evaded detection like a criminal on the lamb. Hour after hour ticked by, and still no dog. The police were notified. His owner was informed. She drove back from her trip and came to Hill City to join the search. We thought that Ro would come out of hiding once he heard his master’s voice.
Day turned to evening, and still no dog. We began to speculate that perhaps he had, as some dogs have done, gone “cross country” to follow his internal radar and make his way back to Quinter. Maybe he had hitched a ride. Maybe he was just lost, confused, scared, and sheltering close by.
That night I took the kids to see the local movie, and the ticket seller immediately asked me about the dog. It was at that moment that I began to have real hope that the dog would be found. As far as I knew, we hadn’t asked this person about Ro. The information had made its way around town, and I realized that we had a small town network helping us in our search.
The next morning we received a phone call and then another, reporting seeing a little dog running by their homes. My daughter and I pursued on foot, with my wife manning the phones and my mother-in-law in her car. Based on the fresh leads provided by the phone calls, I was finally able to spot the dog.
I beckoned to Ro, expecting the dog to come to me. We were pals, after all. He has known me for years and I have played with him on countless occasions. However, Ro had grown timid, visibly wary of all people, myself included. He ran from me, but I was able to pursue him (through a back yard, I might add) towards the park by our house. There, his owner drove by, and upon stopping the vehicle, jumped out and called for her dog.
Still he ran. In his exhaustion, in his old age, with failing eyesight and suspect hearing, he did not even appear to recognize his own master.
We caught a break when ran toward the high school. Pursuing in her car, my mother-in-law was able to pull up within a couple of feet, just as the dog stopped to catch his breath. She threw open her passenger door and called as she had done some many times before, “Come on, Ro. Let’s go for a ride!”
He either recognized the car or finally heard the all too familiar invitation, because recognition replaced fear. After a few tentative steps, he abandoned all caution and climbed into the passenger seat as fast as his arthritic legs would go.
As I watched the joyful reunion, full of tears and tail wags, followed by a hot bath and a long nap, I was truly thankful to live in a quiet neighborhood in a small town. We cannot thank enough those who kept their eyes open and called us with up-to-the minute sightings. We cannot thank enough the well-wishers and those who prayed for the safe return of this little member of our extended family.
When I called the police to tell them the search was over, the officer who answered the phone exclaimed, “The lost has been found!” Yes, the lost had been found, thanks to the caring citizens who made possible a small town rescue.
Closure (05-25-09)
It is fitting, I think, to be writing this article on Memorial Day, and at the conclusion of Alumni Weekend. The last three days have been about reuniting with family, remembering days gone by, and honoring those who have gone before. Today, I pay homage to something that has recently departed, something that has provided such powerful memories for so many. Today, I memorialize Longfellow Middle School.
Friday was the last day of school. Now, for all the last days of school I have experienced, Friday was special. Yes, it had the usual events, the awards ceremony with the grade school, the end of year softball game with the junior high. We played “Bingo For Books” and we ate sack lunches and grilled hotdogs on the school lawn. I signed a multitude of t-shirts and extended wishes for a happy and safe summer to all.
This last day of school, however, held one ceremony I will never forget. At 11:25, the junior high students assembled in a line that stretched up and down the staircases and through both main hallways of Longfellow Middle School. Faculty and staff joined the line and we all held hands, creating an unbroken chain through the school. We had gathered to commemorate the closing of the building and to listen to the final bell.
The voice of Mrs. Keith, the Longfellow Middle School secretary, came over the intercom. She read a prepared statement, a eulogy of sorts, for our beloved school. She noted the symmetrical design, how one side resembled the other, with matching doors, stairways and connecting hallways. “This building reminds us that no matter where you start from, you can always reach your goals,” she read.
She noted how the massive granite structure “rises tall,” just like the spirit of the students who have walked its halls and learned in its classrooms. She praised the adaptability of the building, how it served both as “Memorial High School” and later as “Longfellow Middle School.” Finally, she remembered the students, the thousands of students, who had filled the building and turned it from a building and into a school. “A school is more than the walls,” Mrs. Keith read, “it is the soul and the spirit of the students who gather within the walls.”
School, she reminded us, is just as much about our past as it is about our future. A school has a life of its own, complete with a rich history filled with countless memories. And while this current group of students perhaps doesn’t fully comprehend the importance of their part in the collective history that makes up Longfellow Middle School, I think most of them understood the sadness involved in the closing of such a remarkable chapter in the history and culture of our town.
At the end, Mrs. Keith acknowledged that the students, faculty, and staff will move on to a new school, to start a new tradition in the new Hill City Junior High as the new Hill City Junior High Ringnecks. However, she said, her voice breaking with emotion, we will never forget our beloved Broncos.
That last line, of course, sent many of us to tears, as we stood hand in hand on staircases and in hallways. The moment of silence planned before the final bell was accompanied by the soft sobs and sniffles of students who fully felt the gravity of this solemn occasion. Then the bell rang, long and heavy, evoking feelings of sorrow with the memory of so many bells that had rung before. As soon as the last echo of its mournful peal died within the walls, we applauded and embraced in a last tearful goodbye.
Needless to say, it was a powerful moment, one that I doubt many students will ever forget. For my part, I was just happy to have been part of the ceremony. I think we, as human beings, need ceremonies like these. Especially on weekends like these. We need to visit cemeteries, we need to be with family, we need to remember, to cry, to say hello, and to say goodbye. I think that we as the last students and faculty of Longfellow Middle School, needed our final bell ceremony. We needed a farewell speech, we needed to hold hands in silence, and we needed the drama and the emotion of the final bell. We needed, and we received, closure.
Now, we can move forward, never forgetting our past, but ready, willing, and able to embrace our collective future.
Friday was the last day of school. Now, for all the last days of school I have experienced, Friday was special. Yes, it had the usual events, the awards ceremony with the grade school, the end of year softball game with the junior high. We played “Bingo For Books” and we ate sack lunches and grilled hotdogs on the school lawn. I signed a multitude of t-shirts and extended wishes for a happy and safe summer to all.
This last day of school, however, held one ceremony I will never forget. At 11:25, the junior high students assembled in a line that stretched up and down the staircases and through both main hallways of Longfellow Middle School. Faculty and staff joined the line and we all held hands, creating an unbroken chain through the school. We had gathered to commemorate the closing of the building and to listen to the final bell.
The voice of Mrs. Keith, the Longfellow Middle School secretary, came over the intercom. She read a prepared statement, a eulogy of sorts, for our beloved school. She noted the symmetrical design, how one side resembled the other, with matching doors, stairways and connecting hallways. “This building reminds us that no matter where you start from, you can always reach your goals,” she read.
She noted how the massive granite structure “rises tall,” just like the spirit of the students who have walked its halls and learned in its classrooms. She praised the adaptability of the building, how it served both as “Memorial High School” and later as “Longfellow Middle School.” Finally, she remembered the students, the thousands of students, who had filled the building and turned it from a building and into a school. “A school is more than the walls,” Mrs. Keith read, “it is the soul and the spirit of the students who gather within the walls.”
School, she reminded us, is just as much about our past as it is about our future. A school has a life of its own, complete with a rich history filled with countless memories. And while this current group of students perhaps doesn’t fully comprehend the importance of their part in the collective history that makes up Longfellow Middle School, I think most of them understood the sadness involved in the closing of such a remarkable chapter in the history and culture of our town.
At the end, Mrs. Keith acknowledged that the students, faculty, and staff will move on to a new school, to start a new tradition in the new Hill City Junior High as the new Hill City Junior High Ringnecks. However, she said, her voice breaking with emotion, we will never forget our beloved Broncos.
That last line, of course, sent many of us to tears, as we stood hand in hand on staircases and in hallways. The moment of silence planned before the final bell was accompanied by the soft sobs and sniffles of students who fully felt the gravity of this solemn occasion. Then the bell rang, long and heavy, evoking feelings of sorrow with the memory of so many bells that had rung before. As soon as the last echo of its mournful peal died within the walls, we applauded and embraced in a last tearful goodbye.
Needless to say, it was a powerful moment, one that I doubt many students will ever forget. For my part, I was just happy to have been part of the ceremony. I think we, as human beings, need ceremonies like these. Especially on weekends like these. We need to visit cemeteries, we need to be with family, we need to remember, to cry, to say hello, and to say goodbye. I think that we as the last students and faculty of Longfellow Middle School, needed our final bell ceremony. We needed a farewell speech, we needed to hold hands in silence, and we needed the drama and the emotion of the final bell. We needed, and we received, closure.
Now, we can move forward, never forgetting our past, but ready, willing, and able to embrace our collective future.
Assessment Pride (05-18-09)
We have much in which to be proud of our schools Every day we educate our students in a variety of meaningful ways and for our efforts we can point to many outstanding results.
From kindergarten, where our students learn to read fluently, to high school graduation, where most go on to be successful in post-secondary education, the signs of our success are abundant. Our grade schoolers produce amazing projects that line the walls of the grade school, and our high schoolers bring home award after award from state and national contests in every conceivable area. We have scholars, and athletes, and musicians, and thespians, as well as artists and journalists and future business men and women. We produce doctors and lawyers, teachers and journalists, and engineers and mechanics, not to mention the most productive farmers the world has ever known.
Small schools are able to produce these results because we are able to get involved in a positive and meaningful capacity in the lives of our students. We form relationships that have a profound impact in the way our students develop and in the potential they are able to reach.
This week, I reviewed and analyzed our 2009 state assessment data. I compared our current scores with those from previous years, and compared our scores to criteria for the Kansas Standard of Excellence. Considering the abundance of evidence of excellence in our school district, the scores were not surprising. However, our tremendous performance on these state assessments is certainly worthy of our attention and pride.
Let me break it down:
Grade 3-8 are tested every year in reading and math, and the students are tested in these areas once in high school. I will focus on the scores for grades 3-8.
Each class is tested in both reading and math, meaning there is a total of twelve assessment scores (6 in reading, 6 in math) to examine. Last year, we reached 100% proficiency in two of the assessments – 7th grade reading and math. Now this would be an un-heard of achievement for a large school. It is extremely difficult to get everyone in a class to score at proficient or higher. Again, we have an advantage because we know every student and we work with every student. In the words of the federal government’s education mandate, in our school few children are “left behind.”
This year was even better, with SIX assessments showing 100% of scores in the proficient category or better. And the “or better” categories of “exceeds standards” and “exemplary” are where the majority of the students scored on ALL the assessments. Rather than the expected “bell curve” where the majority of student scores fall in the middle range, Hill City has a Nike Swoop, where the majority of the scores fall in the highest range.
Last year, out of the twelve assessments in grades 3-8, our scores earned us the Kansas Standard Of Excellence rating seven times. This earned our grade school a Building Wide Standard of Excellence rating in Reading and Math, and our middle school a Building Wide Standard of Excellence rating in Reading.
This year, I anticipate that our scores in ELEVEN out of the twelve assessments will earn the Kansas Standard of Excellence, and that we will earn Building Wide Standard of Excellence ratings all around.
If you examine these scores over a five-year period, one can see obvious evidence of growth and sustained excellence. In anyway you look at it, our schools are helping students perform consistently at the highest levels.
Take a moment to thank our educators. And take a moment to be proud of your schools.
From kindergarten, where our students learn to read fluently, to high school graduation, where most go on to be successful in post-secondary education, the signs of our success are abundant. Our grade schoolers produce amazing projects that line the walls of the grade school, and our high schoolers bring home award after award from state and national contests in every conceivable area. We have scholars, and athletes, and musicians, and thespians, as well as artists and journalists and future business men and women. We produce doctors and lawyers, teachers and journalists, and engineers and mechanics, not to mention the most productive farmers the world has ever known.
Small schools are able to produce these results because we are able to get involved in a positive and meaningful capacity in the lives of our students. We form relationships that have a profound impact in the way our students develop and in the potential they are able to reach.
This week, I reviewed and analyzed our 2009 state assessment data. I compared our current scores with those from previous years, and compared our scores to criteria for the Kansas Standard of Excellence. Considering the abundance of evidence of excellence in our school district, the scores were not surprising. However, our tremendous performance on these state assessments is certainly worthy of our attention and pride.
Let me break it down:
Grade 3-8 are tested every year in reading and math, and the students are tested in these areas once in high school. I will focus on the scores for grades 3-8.
Each class is tested in both reading and math, meaning there is a total of twelve assessment scores (6 in reading, 6 in math) to examine. Last year, we reached 100% proficiency in two of the assessments – 7th grade reading and math. Now this would be an un-heard of achievement for a large school. It is extremely difficult to get everyone in a class to score at proficient or higher. Again, we have an advantage because we know every student and we work with every student. In the words of the federal government’s education mandate, in our school few children are “left behind.”
This year was even better, with SIX assessments showing 100% of scores in the proficient category or better. And the “or better” categories of “exceeds standards” and “exemplary” are where the majority of the students scored on ALL the assessments. Rather than the expected “bell curve” where the majority of student scores fall in the middle range, Hill City has a Nike Swoop, where the majority of the scores fall in the highest range.
Last year, out of the twelve assessments in grades 3-8, our scores earned us the Kansas Standard Of Excellence rating seven times. This earned our grade school a Building Wide Standard of Excellence rating in Reading and Math, and our middle school a Building Wide Standard of Excellence rating in Reading.
This year, I anticipate that our scores in ELEVEN out of the twelve assessments will earn the Kansas Standard of Excellence, and that we will earn Building Wide Standard of Excellence ratings all around.
If you examine these scores over a five-year period, one can see obvious evidence of growth and sustained excellence. In anyway you look at it, our schools are helping students perform consistently at the highest levels.
Take a moment to thank our educators. And take a moment to be proud of your schools.
Movie Review (05-04-09)
This week marks another first for this little column of mine: I am going to write a movie review. Of course, it won’t be a typical review. Rather, it will be a “how this movie reinforces my perspective about education” review. Go figure.
This weekend my wife and I watched Freedom Writers. The move depicts the story of teacher Erin Gruwell and her remarkable success with a group of struggling inner city students. The movie is based on the book The Freedom Writers Diary, written by both Ms. Gruwell and her students describing not only how this amazing teacher reached a group of “unreachable” students, but also chronicling the hard lives of a group of kids trying to survive the gang wars of Long Beach, California.
The film begins with Erin taking her first teaching job in a large public high school that recently underwent “integration”, meaning that hundreds of low-income minority students are now bussed to this once “A-list” school. The older staff are understandably bitter about the transformation, as the new students are violent, disrespectful, and generally have run off the school’s best academic achievers.
While Erin is excited to face challenges of integration, she quickly realizes that she is completely unprepared to teach the freshmen students assigned to her, most of whom belong in one gang or another, and many of whom wear court-ordered ankle bracelets, having chosen education over jail.
She finally reaches the students when she abandons the traditional curriculum and begins to find meaningful lessons to which the students can relate. She begins by teaching about the holocaust, as most of her students know what it is like to be shot at, be discriminated against because of their ethnicity, and have experience watching family members be forcibly removed from their homes by the police.
Erin finds no support within her school, so she works three jobs during evenings and weekends to earn extra money to buy the kids reading books and to fund field trips. The most powerful thing, though, that Ms. Gruwell does, is give each student a journal, in which they can write anything they want. She only reads them with permission and in the strictest confidence. The writing liberates the students of their terrible experiences, and they share with their teacher their real stories of violence, poverty, and despair.
Eventually, her class assemble the stories into a book, which earns them international acclaim and attention.
After the last frame, there is a postscript describing how Ms. Gruwell resigned as a high school teacher upon the graduation of “her kids” and that she took a job at a local college in order to further follow many of her students who continued their education there.
I found the postscript to be very important. You see, this is not a story about systemic change. This is not a story about making public education better for all kids. It is not even about the rise of a school from failure to success.
Freedom Writer’s is about the relationship one teacher builds with one set of students, a relationship so deep that when the kids graduate, the teacher quits in order to remain in their lives.
In my perspective, positive relationships between educators and their students is the bedrock of successful education. Whether you’re teaching in the inner city, or in a small country school, students must believe that they are loved, respected, and that they are safe under the guidance of their teacher.
While the main emphasis in both the book and the movie is on the students’ writing, and on the freedom the students gained through their writing, to me the real freedom came from the positive bond between child and adult. Psychological research tells us that everyone needs to belong to something. The students had turned to gangs to gain a sense of belonging. Yet one dedicated and talented teacher provided the students with a new identity, and a new way to view the world. By building strong, positive relationships, the teacher gave her students the greatest freedom of all - the freedom to learn.
I warned you that this wouldn’t be usual movie review. However, I will end by saying that I give Freedom Writers five stars and two big thumbs up!
This weekend my wife and I watched Freedom Writers. The move depicts the story of teacher Erin Gruwell and her remarkable success with a group of struggling inner city students. The movie is based on the book The Freedom Writers Diary, written by both Ms. Gruwell and her students describing not only how this amazing teacher reached a group of “unreachable” students, but also chronicling the hard lives of a group of kids trying to survive the gang wars of Long Beach, California.
The film begins with Erin taking her first teaching job in a large public high school that recently underwent “integration”, meaning that hundreds of low-income minority students are now bussed to this once “A-list” school. The older staff are understandably bitter about the transformation, as the new students are violent, disrespectful, and generally have run off the school’s best academic achievers.
While Erin is excited to face challenges of integration, she quickly realizes that she is completely unprepared to teach the freshmen students assigned to her, most of whom belong in one gang or another, and many of whom wear court-ordered ankle bracelets, having chosen education over jail.
She finally reaches the students when she abandons the traditional curriculum and begins to find meaningful lessons to which the students can relate. She begins by teaching about the holocaust, as most of her students know what it is like to be shot at, be discriminated against because of their ethnicity, and have experience watching family members be forcibly removed from their homes by the police.
Erin finds no support within her school, so she works three jobs during evenings and weekends to earn extra money to buy the kids reading books and to fund field trips. The most powerful thing, though, that Ms. Gruwell does, is give each student a journal, in which they can write anything they want. She only reads them with permission and in the strictest confidence. The writing liberates the students of their terrible experiences, and they share with their teacher their real stories of violence, poverty, and despair.
Eventually, her class assemble the stories into a book, which earns them international acclaim and attention.
After the last frame, there is a postscript describing how Ms. Gruwell resigned as a high school teacher upon the graduation of “her kids” and that she took a job at a local college in order to further follow many of her students who continued their education there.
I found the postscript to be very important. You see, this is not a story about systemic change. This is not a story about making public education better for all kids. It is not even about the rise of a school from failure to success.
Freedom Writer’s is about the relationship one teacher builds with one set of students, a relationship so deep that when the kids graduate, the teacher quits in order to remain in their lives.
In my perspective, positive relationships between educators and their students is the bedrock of successful education. Whether you’re teaching in the inner city, or in a small country school, students must believe that they are loved, respected, and that they are safe under the guidance of their teacher.
While the main emphasis in both the book and the movie is on the students’ writing, and on the freedom the students gained through their writing, to me the real freedom came from the positive bond between child and adult. Psychological research tells us that everyone needs to belong to something. The students had turned to gangs to gain a sense of belonging. Yet one dedicated and talented teacher provided the students with a new identity, and a new way to view the world. By building strong, positive relationships, the teacher gave her students the greatest freedom of all - the freedom to learn.
I warned you that this wouldn’t be usual movie review. However, I will end by saying that I give Freedom Writers five stars and two big thumbs up!
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