I could do that if my school was more progressive. I could do that if my (Principal, Dept. Chair, insert appropriate boss title) would let me, encourage me, say "yes". We hear these things so often. Or sometimes it shows up as envy...That school is so incredible, they have the best (Principal, Superintendent, insert some authority figure that is being given credit) or I wish I had access to those resources.
The worst example, one that we have been hearing a lot in the last year traveling around the country, "I used to be able to do ______________, but that was when the quality of our students was higher, and now I can't do _______________ anymore because we are bringing in a much lower caliber of student.
Teaching is not a standardized profession where you show up, get instructions and follow them. Teaching is leadership...every choice, every moment with young people has infinite options, and we need teachers to lead from the field. The assumption that good schools got that way because they had clear, well thought-out and clearly communicated instructions that were handed down to teachers at the beginning and then carried out is false. Those schools got there the same way every great school got there. Hard work, collaboration, and teachers who embody a willingness to lead up and create on behalf of students. Any educator, in any school, has this option.
A theme I have observed in educators is that we are wound tight. We rarely let ourselves, or others, off the hook, and I have spent a lot of time lately thinking about the cost that mindset has on our ability to connect with each other.
What if we were just a little less hard on ourselves? How might a small shift in our willingness to accept our own imperfection reflect out in our work with others?
Curious what you think. Would love to hear from you.
I recently had the opportunity to listen to this commencement speech by David Foster Wallace again. It is worth a listen. It is a reminder that we all have the opportunity to make magic. This opportunity can come in the smallest moments, with the most unlikely collaborators.
This is what we do as educators if we are lucky enough to remember that this is both our opportunity and job. Making magic is our job...it is good to remember this.
You learn so many things in teacher/administrator school, and I am not saying those skills are bad, but they often feel disconnected and less important than what shows up at your door each day in your new role: Angry parents, stressed out faculty, students with complex problems in need of dual diagnosis, and wicked systemic issues impacting school culture, pedagogy and practice. You might wonder, "Did I miss these classes in the curriculum?" Your schooling was what is called necessary, but not sufficient. If you are like many school leaders, you need further support that includes capacity building, conversations and the ability to make new connections and see pathways forward. You don't need therapy yet, but you may in the future if you don't find some new ways to help you process, reflect and grow. Coaches are not neutral, they work for you. Much like teachers advocating for students, coaches exist to support you, and this can be a very productive use of an hour once or twice a month.
This is the time of year where people start taking new jobs, and transition hits a school like they were not expecting it. It is a reminder to all of you in leadership positions that people who are not happy in their schools look for jobs without telling people, and then they let you know in February, March and April. A certain amount of turnover is inevitable, but today, I thought I would highlight the missed opportunity that seems to have the highest impact with educators. Recognition.
As schools, we do a great job of honoring those teachers that leave each year. We get them a plaque or a clock or a ____________. We thank them for their great work and people clap.
Instead or in addition to, I am suggesting that you call out the teachers that are staying and do two things:
Ok, you can still give a clock...Let's not get crazy here...
Dear College Admissions Offices:
I've been on the road a lot since the start of the new year. In fact, I'm writing right now from Terminal A at Boston Logan on my way home to CA. In my recent travels, I've found myself on quite a few brand new planes. Sparkling white trays, power outlets, touch screen entertainment systems and wifi that actually work, and discotheque lighting. It's all very modern and hip and with the times. But there is one feature that remains from a time long ago - a testament to our past and a relic that has been preserved: the ashtray. I was 17 years old when smoking was banned on airplanes. Rick Astley and Guns and Roses were at the top of the Billboard charts. It was 1988! Over thirty years since we actually had smokers on planes. And yet, there they are. Completely useless. Patiently waiting for the possibility that we will return to the glory days when people smoked everywhere - especially in airplanes.
It's not going to happen.
I've been more hopeful about the changing tide of education lately. More and more I see schools thinking more creatively and intentionally about the student experience - not just how to make it more humane and joyful, but also how to actually make it meaningful. And one of those ways is to really broaden the way students are assessed - both throughout a year or a course and in the final demonstrations of learning. There are still schools out there that cling to the traditional proctored final exam - where students sit neatly in rows in the gym and fill in bubbles or write in blue books or solve 100 math equations. Yes. Those students have crammed for days, endured sleepless nights, bitten their nails down to stubs in order to perform and demonstrate to teachers how much information they have taught this year. How much of this information will be retained after the exam? Hard to say. Even harder to say is whether students will see anything of their test besides the grade. Will they even know what they got right or wrong? Do they actually care?
More and more schools have awoken from a collective amnesia (and I do think we just lost our way for a bit) and remembered that the ultimate goal of school is about setting students up for a lifetime of success - a journey of learning, not just a march through required classes on a singular path to college. And in this awakening, schools are recognizing the total irrelevance of the final exam. It's the airplane ashtray of school.
The case for exams I often hear is "students will take final exams in college, so we need to teach them how to take them them." This argument feels almost laughable in this day and age. Even colleges are moving towards many more competency based assessments, final projects and more engaging and authentic measurements of student learning. Tests aren't hard to learn to take, by the way. Collaborative projects are much harder. And really, how many tests have you taken since you left school? How many times have you had to cram a lot of information intro your head and regurgitate it while sitting alone with no access to people or devices (not including standardized tests for graduate programs)? I can count on exactly zero hands. Meanwhile, I have to work on teams to solve complex problems every day. I have to negotiate with other humans, manage complicated projects with many moving parts and deadlines, data and human emotions. Traditional final exams (and might I even say most tests and quizzes) are simplistic, inauthentic, one dimensional and prepare you to do one thing - take a test.
So why do airplanes still have ashtrays? Apparently there is a small chance that some fool will still decide to light up on a plane and there needs to be a place where a burning cigarette can be properly disposed. That almost makes sense to me. More sense than final exams in an age where the purpose of school will increasingly be to turn out the very best humans who can manage complexity, ambiguity and three dimensional challenges.
by Erin Park Cohn, Senior Partner
There is a lot of hunger for identifying "best practices" in the field of education - a search for the silver bullet answer to the various challenges we face as we navigate the difficult task of designing learning experiences for our students. The hope is that if we just search hard enough, we will find definitive research that will tell us how to structure our schedule, or what the most age-appropriate advisory program looks like, or how to enforce our school's dress code. The search for "best practices" gives me pause, however, for several reasons:
1) The concept gives the false impression that there is a single, monolithic, correct way to do things. The human beings that make up our school communities are diverse, and as Todd Rose so adeptly shows in his book, The End of Average, there is no such thing as an "average" person. It follows that what might be best practice in working with one student or group of students might not be best practice for another group of students at all.
2) The concept can deter continued learning. For many in search of "best practices," the hope is that once said practices are found, we can simply employ them and stop wondering about or experimenting with our practice. It also externalizes the search: "best practices" are out there somewhere, having been discovered by an expert smarter than I am. If I adopt that frame of mind, I might miss important local data and observations that can help me continually refine my practice to meet the needs of the specific students I teach.
If looking into "best practices" means wondering, "How have others tackled this thorny problem in front of me, and what can I borrow or learn from them in my continual efforts to improve and grow?" then I'm all for it. Research is not useless, and much inspiration can be gained from others who have gone before us. But whether or not their practice can be declared "best" is questionable, I believe.
by Erin Park Cohn, Senior Partner
In her book, Teaming: How Organizations Learn, Innovate, and Compete in the Knowledge Economy, Amy Edmondson describes a hypothetical scenario where a patient in the hospital is in need of an CT scan. The procedure requires a team of distinct specialists to complete a series of time-sensitive tasks, including threading a nasogastric tube into the abdomen, conducting an x-ray, reading the x-ray to ensure the tube’s proper placement, administering a contrast liquid through the tube, and then conducting the CT scan itself. Each of these steps must occur within certain time windows, by hospital professionals working in different departments. Edmondson relates what happens to a patient whose CT scan is scheduled for a Friday; the impending weekend causes the discrete steps of the CT scan not to be completed with the right timing, causing the patient to have to go through the whole uncomfortable procedure a second time and ultimately experiencing significant wear and tear on the patient’s body and patience for a full 48 hours. The scenario presents a familiar picture of what happens when a team is constructed of individuals who work in different silos within an institution. Each silo holds its own goals, timeframes, and priorities as paramount, resulting in an inability to communicate, coordinate, and collaborate. The patient suffers as a result. For truly humane care, the individuals involved in the CT procedure need to understand themselves as a team and engage in active teaming (as a verb) in order to ensure the best care for the patient.
The example made me wonder, with all of the talk these days about breaking down the disciplinary siloes within education, whether we might be guilty of the very same negligence - even harm - toward the people we serve as the hypothetical hospital team above. When educators talk about breaking down disciplinary boundaries, what exactly do we mean? Are we talking about team-teaching US History and American Lit and calling it American Studies? Is it as simple as infusing some current events in our Statistics classes?
What if an education entailed the kind of teaming that is necessary for the CT patient? What if each student’s learning was guided by a group of professionals who all came to them with something different to offer to their growth, but who actively and collaboratively ensured they were tracking and fulfilling the needs of the individual student? What would that school model look like? And what discomfort, needless repetition, and anguish currently exists for students that we might avoid if we could actually make it happen?
by Carla Silver, Executive Director
When I am asked to clarify what I mean by a "contemporary" learning experience, I try to keep it simple. Students should have learning experiences that have three primary attributes:
1) Engaging - Learning experiences involve them as learners, not passive recipients. They are involved in deep ways, not simply answering questions and problems that are posed to them by teachers, but posing their own questions, identifying problems they want to solve and then actively participating in their own learning.
2) Relevant - Students see how their learning is connected to their daily lives whether it is the content they are learning, the skills, they are developing or the interpersonal and intra-personal habits and mindsets they are practicing. Educators, more than ever before can spend less time teaching content and more time helping students connect the dots to what and how what they are learning is relevant. And if a case can't be made for relevance, real relevance, then maybe it's time to ditch it. Students of al ages deserve to know how what they are learning makes them better thinkers and better humans. The dramatic decline in our civil discourse is, I believe, is exacerbated by schools shying away from having hard but essential conversations about daily, controversial topics. Yet this kind of learning is not just relevant, it is essential.
3) Meaningful - Many young people today are lost. They have grown up in a world of 24-7 information and perennial digital connection. They have underdeveloped imaginations and are unskilled at delaying gratification (Amazon can get anything they want delivered to them in a day). Learning experiences today need to help our students discover their purpose in the word and feel connected to the people and problems around them. Being problem identifiers and solvers gives young people meaning and purpose. It turns them on to being active citizens and contributors to the world in which they live. It connects them in deeply human ways to others as they work face to face on authentic challenges.
This is simple but it isn't easy. It requires us to give up a lot of what we have done in schools for the past 50 years. But I believe our students are worth it.
L+D Staff and Friends
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