Going In (To A New School)

One of the realities for most school-based administrators is mobility between schools.  While not always the case in smaller districts, Principals and Vice-Principals tend to move after a period of time. Sometimes it's two or three years, sometimes a little longer at five years, and some longer, maybe even ten or eleven years.  However, it seems inevitable that there is a point in time at which administrators either make the call and apply for other positions, or get the call and are asked to move on to a new situation.

This has happened to me in the last few weeks:  after seven years, I will be leaving my current school to become the Principal of another high school here in our district.  There are many feelings that come with moving schools: excitement, angst, and yes, even some grieving due to the investment that each of us puts in to our schools in trying to make a difference for students.  But after the initial cavalcade of emotions, I find myself vacillating between feelings of anticipation of my new situation and reflection on what has happened at my school over the last seven years.

When coming into a school as the new Principal, we are often bombarded with thoughts and phrases that shape the way we approach a new setting:

• How fast is too fast, and how slow is too slow?  We don't want to be pushy, but conversely, we don't want to seem wishy-washy and perhaps miss out on an opportunity when people might be ready for change.  
• "Just go in and listen!", you say...listen to what?  To who?  
• "Go in and get a feel for the culture."  What does this mean?  Will it just jump out at me?  
• "Honor what people are doing and have done."  OK, I agree, but what is "honor-able"?  How do you determine what needs your support and further augmentation?  What if there is something that needs to be confronted, do we just let it go until enough time goes by that we are able to 'put our stamp on things'?  And how long is that period of time, exactly?
• "Find out who your key players are!"  What defines a key player?  The overt person that has a great deal of 'influence'?  The person who is a tremendous teacher that quietly goes about their business?  In Kurt Lewin parlance, do we "maintain the equilibrium of the school", or do we disrupt it?

Who is to know? And even for those who believe they do have the skeleton key that correctly "opens any door" of a new school with all of its complexities, trying to describe that knowledge can come across as patriarchical to those that are entering the new context.

Outside of some of these indicators of culture, of "how we do things around here", we also have to consider the educational agenda. Where is the new school at in terms of:

• creating connections and shared experiences for students, staff and parents?
• assessment?
• collaboration for peer observation, reflection and improving instructional practice?
• academic interventions for students that need more time and support?
• instructional leadership, current initiatives and future directions?
• engaging student and adult learning?

just to name a few.

And of course, what cannot be lost in all of this is the human element. When a new Principal comes, it's natural for the people in the school community to be a bit nervous. What's the new person going to be like? Are they going to come with guns blazing and try to change the world in a week? And moreover, as much as I hope people think I am reasonably calm in the face of change and I am competent in (or at the very least, willing to learn) most things I do as a Principal, I can tell you I will be nervous too. I am excited to meet a new group of educators, students, parents and alumni, and I am eager to serve them in my new position. But make no mistake the butterflies will be there.

How great it would be to have a road map to help administrators new and experienced in their transition to a new school. A set of guidelines that described multiple entry points for both the administrator and the school with pieces such as how to better understand a school's culture, how to develop or increase the capacity of collaborative learning teams that examine and change pedagogical practices, how to design and implement interventions that keep students connected, and how to create a student body and faculty that is truly engaged and invested in their own learning.  Perhaps all of these ideas against a backdrop of the skills that we want our school community to have in an ever-changing world around us.

#Imightreadabooklikethat


For those of you who have moved to new schools as administrators, what are some of the things that you feel are important to consider when you are "Going In"?

Do Your Tasks REQUIRE Learning?

This week, I was fortunate enough to be asked to represent my school district and attend Harvard University to take part in the Instructional Rounds Program presented by the Harvard Graduate School of Education.  And now, as I sit on the plane on the way home (via Chicago and Calgary…groan) reflecting on the week, my mind is in a state of both mental exhaustion and tremendous intellectual stimulation in every recollection.  The program was incredibly intense:  there was no figurative dipping of the toe in the IR pool, but rather an intellectual shove off of a rocky cliff into a frothing ocean with your individual educational values feeling like a set of water wings there to save you.  The Harvard professors and facilitators pushed the thinking, challenged your statements, thrust you into interdependent collaboration, and demanded commitments from the 104 teachers, administrators and district staff from places ranging from Boston, Texas, Ontario, British Columbia, Germany, and Australia, Brazil and many other places.  And they did it through a simple lens:

The way to learn the work is to do the work.  And the performance on that work and accountability to that work is predicted by the tasks you are required to do.

#whydidntIthinkofthat

When tasks were put before us, there were supports, but they weren’t supports in the form of answers:  there were more and deeper questions.  There weren’t supports in the form of constructs or manuals or formalized structures, instead, there were scenarios presented which made us think of the nature of the questions we might ask people we are working with in the future to help THEM clarify the work they were doing.  There were not pontificating lectures telling us to change our thinking.  We were challenged to provide the evidence for our thoughts, and if that evidence didn’t support that train of thought, then we needed to look critically at what the evidence did in fact support to shape our further thinking.

We worked in groups with teams comprised of members from all over the world.  We worked with our own teams.  We spent entire days in schools practicing.  We then spent evenings working with our teams again.  We worked with our professors who were very quick to ask why we thought certain things and why we made the statements that we did.  At almost every break, we had to write reflections, and share those reflections with someone who would ask questions of clarity.  We went back to schools and practiced some more. We listened to and critiqued the commitments from other groups knowing that they would be doing the same for us. We had to open up our thoughts and values to the larger group. 

We had no choice.  We were DOING the work.  The task didn't just make us accountable to our facilitators, it made us accountable to ourselves AND our peers. And we LEARNED.

I will tell you, it was exhausting.  And just when you thought you couldn’t push your thinking any farther, another question came that scaffolded us to the next task.  Just enough scaffolding to keep us in that zone of proximal development.  Groan.  More learning.

It was messy.

Learning is messy.

At the end of the first day, I felt like my brain just went 15 rounds with a heavyweight boxer and I got KO’d in the ninth round but kept going.  But because the task was within that zone of challenge, and because I received just enough scaffolding to move on, and because I was working interdependently with my teams, the next morning I was absolutely excited to step into the ring again.  And each day I lasted longer in the fight.  I started to fight back.

You might be thinking “Ummm…NO KIDDING.”  The whole notion of learning by doing the work seems pretty obvious, doesn’t it?  And of course the task predicts performance right?  Hmmm.  Not so fast.

When I reflect upon my own practice, I wonder if the tasks that I asked students to do in my classroom were structured in a way that gave them no other option to be engaged.  I wonder if the supports that I gave to my students were clarifying questions so they could make their own meaning, or whether the students were learning through MY filter and mine alone.  I wonder if the great and the not-so-great performance that I got out of my students was because of the task I assigned to them, not because of their own capabilities.  I wonder whether I spent enough time having them learn by doing the work rather than watching me do the work.

I wonder if the staff and professional development activities that I do and have done with my staff have engaged them like I was engaged.  If it had them doing the real work that needed to be done to learn and augment our knowledge about new tasks. Because this week, I was not professionally developed, my capacity was increased in a way that is difficult to describe.  

And as a side note, we did not touch a piece of technology.  Not once.  And I love technology.  But I was too way too engaged to notice we weren’t using it.  The only time I noticed that we didn’t use technology or web tools was when I was walking back to the hotel—my bag felt so heavy with my laptop and tablet that after the second day I finally left them in the hotel and didn’t miss them a bit.  I was engaged by doing the work.  Doing higher order tasks that elicited higher order work from the entire group.

As a point of reflection, if you examine the tasks that you ask other adults or students to do, do the tasks require the participants to do the desired work?  Or is doing the work optional?  As an example, are you upset that students are not demonstrating higher order learning skills in your classes, but demanding them to work independently, answer fill in the blank questions, do vocabulary crosswords, or copy definitions out of the textbook? Have you ever asked yourself the simple question “What will the student know and have been required to demonstrate after doing this work?”

The way to learn the work is to do the work.  And the performance on that work and accountability to that work is predicted by the tasks you are required to do.

Over the next few weeks and months, I am going to continue to reflect and blog about my experiences with Instructional Rounds.  There is too much to write in a single post, and I feel this sense of responsibility to my colleagues who were and were not a part of IR to do rounds justice.

Create the task that makes them do the work.  A seemingly simple concept, but have we really looked at the tasks we have created to see what students will have been required to learn and demonstrate to us and their peers? 

Thoughts?

Are Universities Prepared for Kids?

"Welcome to my class.

You will receive two tests, one half-way through the course, and one at the end.  The first one will be worth 40% of your mark, and the second will be worth 60%.  I will post your marks, but I will not return the test for 'exam security' purposes.  I should tell you, whether you get a good mark or not, I am only allowed to give so many "A's" and "B's", so I will have to see how the rest of the class does.  And you should be aware, 50% of my class typically fails.  There is help available, but you need to go and access it because I will not be checking on you, you need to be responsible for your learning, and as you can see, I have 400 other students in the class.  And whether you show up to my class or not is up to you, it doesn't really matter to me.  Why?  Because you are PAYING for this."

While not verbatim, this is very close to the words that comprised the first 45 seconds of my first ever class at university.  It was Chemistry 104, and before I had even started into the course, I felt defeated.  Unfortunately, when I went to my next class, Math 102, the message was very similar.  Physics 111 was a bit better, but that was because there was only about 250 people in that one:  it felt much cozier.  But the philosophy was the same with each professor was chillingly similar--we are going to give you a couple of opportunities to show us what you know with very little feedback and support, and if you don't show up, well...that's up to you.  And by the way, most people fail.

I bring this up because the other day, I was speaking to an outstanding colleague about a policy that they had created in their department.  The policy said "NO REWRITES!!!" (yes, with three exclamation points).  Interestingly, they don't actually follow this policy too closely, and as a result of their extra efforts, their department has one of the highest success rates in our school at just under 98%.   And when I probed a little deeper him about this, (because at our school, we are committed to providing students multiple and varied opportunities to demonstrate the learning outcomes of a given course), he told me a half dozen different ways that their department ensured we maintained this commitment to our kids.   He agreed with me that they needed to change what they had written to demonstrate how they support students to be successful in the different classes in their department.

This is very different than where we are at as a school, so I couldn't resist asking him:  "Where did that come from?".  His response?  He said that his department developed that in direct consultation with a first year university professor because they don't allow re-writes there, and he told them this would better prepare kids for university.

Through clenched teeth, I told my colleague that "I begged to differ" on this philosophy (I am Croatian--so my words might have been a bit different, but you get the idea).

#steamoutofmyears

Interestingly, less than two weeks ago, I sat with a large group of counselors, transition coordinators, and numerous representatives from our local university to brainstorm new and innovative ways to attract and retain students at post-secondary institutions.  Shockingly, the assessment thoughts espoused by this professor which would 'prepare students for university' did not make the list of high-yield strategies.

There are good professors at universities, I want to make sure that I am clear on that point.  But there are professors that look at the way that schools and teachers in the K-12 system give students multiple and varied opportunities to demonstrate what they know as weak, watered-down assessment.  "Of course they are going to get it if you let them try it five times!".

Groan.  Don't we want them to get it?  And if we acknowledge that there is the tiniest of possibilities that in a class of 400-500 students that a few of them could possibly learn at different rates and in different ways, should we not EXPECT that some of them might need to try certain bits of a course again?   Is that wrong?

I am tired of hearing these sorts of comments, so here's my counter to criticisms aimed at schools with assessment practices that are tailored to give students feedback and multiple opportunities for success, or with intervention programs designed to invite and then dictate additional support for students:

"How's that working out for you?"

Perhaps the experience I described above was similar for you.  And perhaps like me, you went from being a good student in high school to getting blown out of the water in the first year of post-secondary.  And can tell you I nearly quit.  I nearly became one of the 50% that my first year Chemistry professor described. 

The statistics are well-known--a significant number of students leave after their first year of university.  There is no one checking on them.  There is no feedback given so even they themselves do not have a sense of where they are at. They fail that first high-stakes test.  Then they fail one course.  Perhaps another.  Still no one intervenes.  Or they get a letter saying they are on "Academic Probation". And then they start to think  "Is this worth it?", "Should I just go to work?" and "Why am I wasting my money?".   And then they go.  They become a statistic.

"How's that working for you?"

"Not so well, hey?"

I don't want to prepare students for the university that I went to.  Not because I don't want them to go, not at all--I loved university.  It's because I don't want them to have to endure what I went through in my first (and even part of my second) year.  I don't want them to only have one or two shots at demonstrating what they know in a class.  I don't want them to have to demonstrate what they know using a multiple-choice test to do so.  I don't want them to get a mark that is lower than what they demonstrated because the teacher is only "allowed to give so many A's".  Those practices are archaic.  And in a place which we call 'higher learning', I feel those practices need to stop.

I want a professor to challenge students to demonstrate their knowledge in a way that truly reflects what they know.  And if they don't demonstrate that knowledge to a high standard, they get timely and frequent feedback and multiple opportunities to show what they know because it is really important to LEARN it.  I want someone to care that they aren't going to class, or that they are struggling.  I want someone to help them even if they don't seek out the help, because some students won't do that on their own without a little nudge, without someone reaching out to them.  Because in first year, students are still adults in training.  They are still...gasp...kids.

So instead of asking the question "Are kids prepared for universities?", perhaps we should be asking "Are universities prepared for kids".

How Do You Value Networking?

This past Monday, I attended an event at Thompson University here in Kamloops to strengthen the relationship between the university and ten local high schools in the Kamloops area.  At the meeting, there were university staff members including a couple of professors, recruiting specialists, and student engagement coordinators (what a cool position) along with high school counselors, principals, and our Trades and Transition Coordinators.  There was a great deal of rich dialogue which provided me with a broader understanding of the successes and challenges each level faces when moving students from secondary to post-secondary education.

During the course of the day, we were fortunate enough to spend an hour listening to a panel of former students from our schools (including one from South Kam, which was great--wow, they grow up fast.  Fourth year already!) who are currently attending TRU.  There were some pre-planned questions to start the discussion, and then we were able to ask questions from the floor.  One of the questions that came from one of the high school counselors was of particular interest to me.  The question was, "If there was one skill that we could have done a better job of developing for you, what would it have been?".

The answer by one of the panelists that was quickly followed by emphatic nods from the rest of the panel:

"If you could have taught us how to network"

Wow.

When I heard this answer, I was surprised...but once I processed it, I was not shocked.  Surprised because I suspected that the skill might have been something different, maybe "time management" (which was mentioned later), or "self-regulation" (something that I might have found useful) or "how to research" (which I am still trying to figure out).  But this group was made up of students ranging from freshmen to seniors, and they were already starting to think of their transition from their post secondary studies to the workplace, and how important connecting to others was in that process.

I began to reflect on how we value networking in our system.  I thought about my own networking, and how it has changed in the past few years since I became connected through social media.  How I have developed meaningful relationships with people that I have never met face-to-face, and when I have in fact been lucky enough to meet some my personal learning network face-to-face, the greeting is more likely to be a hug rather than a handshake.  A sad fact that I also have come to realize is that I tend to network more with people that are thousands of miles from me rather than my fellow administrators who are just a few blocks or neighbourhoods away from me.

Prior to 'getting connected', I was usually (but not always) able to pluck up the courage to make a phone call to someone that I didn't know, to stop someone to chat at a conference, or to stop in to visit a school that I had always wanted to visit.  But the actual skill of networking was never taught to me, and even with the myriad of tools available to connect with millions of people all over the world, 'network' and 'guesswork' still go hand-in-hand for me.

I can't imagine what it is like for kids.

Now right away, techno-lovers (including myself) would say "kids are on Facebook, they are more connected than they ever have been!".  True.  Many students ARE more connected.  But are they making those meaningful and productive relationships that will help them to find what their passion might be, what their occupation might be, and to create the support networks in those areas that will allow them to become reflective practitioners of whatever it is they might want to do?

Maybe not.

And if we in our schools do not teach these skills of making good connections, if we do not teach students about what it means to be a digital citizen, if we do not teach them to reflect upon what others may find when they are Googled, their Facebook pages, their Twitter messages, their YouTube channels, then what service are we doing to these students as they move forward.  Or even worse, what are we saying when we do not allow them to use technology in our schools, when we lock down the wi-fi, and ban smartphones.


So, in your organization, do you teach these skills?  Do you give students the chance to network with each other in the class, in other classes, and in other schools near and far?  Do you find opportunities to allow them to connect to different members of the community? And along with teaching those skills in classes, do you have someone dedicated to teaching digital citizenship and digital literacy to students AND to other teachers and administration in your school with the idea of creating a network? Do staff meetings have a piece around this? At the district level, are you encouraging your administrators to develop networks to expand their perspectives?  Do you have this as a part of district administrative meetings?

I know that the university focus group really hit me between the eyes, and made me ask myself

"How do you value networking?"

How do you?