Not The Happiest 6th Grader

I was not the happiest 6th grade student. 

My family moved to Atlanta before my 4th grade year. I spent my 4th grade year with Mrs. Scott, joined by most of my friends from my new community that my family had moved into a few months prior. 5th grade was with Mrs. Harms, just down the hall from my 4th grade classroom. Again, somehow all of my friends were grouped together for our 5th grade year. I loved school.

Near the end of the year, all of my friends and I became increasingly excited to move to the local middle school for our 6th grade year in the fall. It was around this time that my parents sat me down and informed me that I'd be attending private school for 6th grade. I was devastated.

While some 11 year olds would handle this news with grace, I did not. Instead, I protested, argued, made the empty threats only an 11 year old can make ("Well, then I'll just live somewhere else!"), and spent every day leading up to 6th grade as a relatively unhappy child. My parents, in looking back, have a few choice words to describe my behaviors during this time. Essentially, I was not a very happy 5th grade student.

And so I entered Westminster not knowing a soul. 

Westminster was at the time (and still is) a high performing K-12 private catholic school. My day started with a 30 minute commute. There were weekly religious church sessions (which was something different for me to sit through). I didn't know anyone. I really didn't make any friends the whole year. 

From my entire year at Westminster, I have four, and only four, distinct memories. 

I remember running in PE twice a week throughout the entire campus. They said the route was approximately 2.2 miles, but I'm pretty sure it was much longer than that. 

I remember playing a lot of foosball and buying candy at break and lunch.

I remember being pooped on by a bird en route to art class one day. 

And I remember Mr. Gardner.

Mr. Gardner was my 6th grade science teacher. Science was my least favorite class. It's important to note that I also had a geography class, art class, a music class, the aforementioned running/PE class... and yet, science was still my least favorite. It was in my science class with Mr. Gardner that I acted out the worst. For whatever reason, Mr. Gardner took the brunt of my frustration about switching schools, from being away from my friends, for just being an angry 11 year old child.

Mr. Gardner did everything a teacher should do. He tried the consequence route. He held parent-student-teacher conferences. He assigned more work. He assigned less work. He graded me a bit harshly. He gave me a lot of grace. Looking back, he tried everything. 

One day, I was being especially challenging in class, and I could tell that Mr. Gardner was equally frustrated with the situation. He stopped his lesson for the class and asked me if I wanted to lead the class since I had so much to say. I told him I'd be glad to teach the class for him. He paused and said calmly that I'd be leading the chapter review lesson the following day for the class and that I best be ready. No problem, I said.

But there was a problem. I hadn't paid attention for the entire chapter and hadn't started preparing for the test in two days. Now, I was responsible for the chapter review to be delivered in 24 hours. This was not good.

I went home and immediately read the chapter. I had collected some notes from a classmate. I treated the teacher-provided study guide as the holy grail. I even referenced the encyclopedia set we had at home. By late that evening, I had cobbled together a Jeopardy style review, even with the hidden daily doubles. I felt prepared. 

The class itself was a blur. It's amazing how much faster the class period goes when you're the one in front of the class, leading the lesson. I put my classmates into three teams and they could, within their groups, respond to each of the answers with the correct question for the points shown. At the end, one team was declared the winner and, as a class, we had reviewed everything from the study guide plus some additional information gleaned from the encyclopedias. 

Mr. Gardner sat off to the side for the entire lesson. At the end, he looked over at me and said "well done." I was very exhausted afterwards and fell asleep early that night. I was not prepared for exactly how challenging and tiring leading a class lesson could be. I also earned an "A" on the chapter test the following day; turns out if you prepare the class review, you learn the material for the test quite well. My main takeaway was how much I enjoyed teaching. A seed was planted.

All of this took place in 1986-87. We moved to California after my 6th grade year and I never looked back at my year at Westminster and Mr. Gardner, even though I credit him with my first teaching experience. I'm not sure I would have ever gone into education without Mr. Gardner taking a chance on letting a knucklehead of a 6th grader lead a chapter review in science class way back when. 

Every so often, I would search online for Mr. Gardner. I only knew his last name and that he worked at Westminster, but I figured it couldn't be that hard... after all, I'm pretty good with my Internet searches. And yet, I had zero luck. 

Until I received a random reply from the dean of students at Westminster. He shared that Mr. Gardner had switched schools a while back and had since retired. He was living in Tennessee and yes, his first name is Warren (but went by Sandy) and he was on Facebook. Off to Facebook I went. A quick message one night was instantly replied to and he provided his email address for me to send a thank you that included my apology for what a challenging student I was for him in 6th grade science.

He replied to my email and shared his life since Westminster. He also kindly shared that he had no recollection of my Jeopardy game nor of me as a student. I'm not sure how this was possible; I had assumed that the year we spent together had permanently scarred his soul. However, his words provided the "why" and the "how" quite well in his email reply: 

"Your story to me, if you'll grant me a religious interpretation, speaks to what many call a 'God moment.' What was for you a seminal event was for me one of a blur of moments (as you know from your own experience being in charge of a class and now a school), but neither you nor I had to appreciate it for what it was at the time. It became something large because of who you are and where IMO God placed you to be influenced in a powerful and life-giving way. I can only imagine how effective that first class was. My daughter, who is now also a teacher, observed recently that kids listen to other kids who step into adult roles better than the adults. And your use of Jeopardy was perfect and outside my box (though it should not have been) and makes recall with more definition the day I turned over a class to a student. I'm sure everyone enjoyed it, including me, and in the process it lit something in you that still burns - yes, a God moment."

While I myself am not a religious person, I appreciated his words and how it best explains that perhaps there was some deliberate destiny involved in my parents' decision to transfer their 6th grade son (against his wishes) into private school back in 1986. 

Perhaps this means that what we endure in the present, even in a year as unbecoming as 2020, does directly spark who we collectively become in our shared future. 

Maybe there's a little bit of hope for us all, especially so for those parents with an unhappy, moody, ever-so-challenging 6th grade student.

Everything is going to be ok

I've always heard that no one is ever given more than they can handle. Whatever your internal max tolerance in these chaotic times might be, you should be able to make it through. This week, however, was one of the books.

We are on week 902 of the covid-19 pandemic. Actually, it has only been about seven weeks, but if you told me it had been nine hundred some odd weeks, I would have believed you. As previously shared, my wife and I have four young children, twins approaching their 5th birthday and another set about to turn ten. The soon-to-be ten year olds have significant special needs to where they have the strength of a twelve year old but the behaviors of a four year old. To say things are the opposite of stable for our household would be accurate.

Our strategy thus far has been to take it one day at a time. My wife and I have chosen to not judge each other on the amount of television we allow our kids to watch, the amount of wine or diet sodas we drink, and the amount of times either of us feel the need to visit Costco for their daily walk.

So far, given all of the imbedded challenges we have in our household, we've survived. It hasn't been without our hourly moments of despair, fear, and frustration. We often wonder what else could happen, what else could go wrong, and what else is going to be just too much for us to handle.

Enter a power outage Wednesday night.

Around 5 pm, everything electronic suddenly turned off. The iPads our daughters were using. The television our sons were watching. The power bank chargers needing a refill. Our garage door somehow half open, unable to close. Our refrigerator with the dinner we hadn't prepared yet not being able to be opened out of fear everything would instantly spoil. We had promised our children a family movie (after watching Despicable Me 1-3, they were quite excited to watch Minions) that evening; now, there was no way to make it happen. Imagine trying to explain a power outage to your special needs children or to your four year old sons. They weren't as agreeable as I had hoped.

My wife and I sat there in the dark, after finally putting all of the kids to bed later than we had hoped. Our phones were slowly draining of their current charge and we had no way to refill them. We just sat in the dark, illuminated by our screens, wondering if the power would ever turn back on. And yes, it did. At 2 am. All of the lights. All of the TVs. All turned on at the same time. It was a very nice wake up call. At 2 am.

But hey we made it through it and survived to another day. Since our social distancing expert slash babysitter was unavailable today, I decided to take all four kids out for a drive in an effort to give my wife some quiet time. We had errands to run plus the kids wanted a milkshake as a special treat. Using the milkshake as the reward for our behavior expectations, the kids did a great job. We went to Costco for gasoline. I got semi-lost trying to find my way from Lawrence Expressway to Picchetti Winery but made it there eventually. The kids were all doing wonderfully. We were passing the reservoir when Molly, from the back of the car, made a sound. It was one of those sounds that every parent knows and every parent fears. It was the pre-vomit sound.

Everything slowed down at that moment. You know what's about to happen. You think about snapping your fingers to freeze time. Maybe some Matrix-style maneuvers that teleport the sick child to the side of the road. Anything to prevent what is seconds away from taking place. But you know that nothing will work. You beg. You plead. And then you see the vomit. It's on their clothes. It's on the seatbelt. It's all over the car. Somehow, it got onto another child, who is now screaming that their sibling's barf is in their mouth. The other two kids are loudly complaining about the smell. It might be their first moment with a vehicle vomit situation. Special moment. It's just a complete mess.

But I looked back at Molly. Her eyes were puffy. She was covered in regurgitated macaroni and cheese with some strawberries mixed in. Tears were falling down her face. Please note that this is the Molly who has become incredibly violent over the years. I have a dozen scratches and bruises made by Molly right now. She often reacts with anger and confusion and screaming. But I looked back at her as I had pulled to the side of the road. She looked right back at me and said in a voice that was intermixed with verbal tears, "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm sorry, Daddy."

With her clothes completely soaked, Molly was left in her underwear. I harkened back to my wife's voice as we left for our excursion: are you sure you don't want to bring an extra set of clothes? I had said no.  Molly, however, was quite excited as she was allowed to sit in the front seat for the rest of the way home, albeit mostly naked in doing so. The boys seemed to understand that these things happen and they stopped complaining about the smell. Kenna repeatedly told her sister Molly that everything was going to be ok, that she (Kenna) always throws up in the car -and this is true: Kenna is known to vomit about half of the time for any car ride longer than 60 minutes- and that she always gets better after a while.

So here we are, in the middle of a pandemic, seven weeks into shelter in place with no end in sight, driving to get wine that I'm not even going to drink, with all four kids to give my wife a few moments of well deserved quiet, on the side of the road without cell service, after one of the longest weeks of my life, with an entire car reeking of vomit, my Molly thinking that she did something wrong, and I just took a deep breath and realized: everything is going to be ok.

We are going to be ok. You are going to be ok. We are going to get through this, whatever "this" happens to be for each individual in the midst of our chaotic times.

We can handle whatever life throws at us. So you've got a pandemic forcing us to shelter in place with four young children, adding in blackouts and wine-collection road trips filled with vomit explosions? No problem. We can handle it. Everything is going to be ok. Take a few minutes to enjoy the little things in life. Marvel at how your special needs daughter responds with kindness toward her probably food-poisoned sister. Take a moment to relish the special story you can one day share about the blackout ending at 2 am and being awakened by the screaming televisions throughout the house.

We are in incredibly unique times and we are going to get through this. Everything is going to be ok.

Three Long Weeks

It's been three weeks since our schools shut down.

Three weeks in my role as a principal since the decision was made to close down and shift toward online learning for our students. 

I think as a principal that I had a sense that our school campus were going to be closed in the weeks leading up to the actual decision. A lot of our teachers had questions about the "what if" aspects of such a closure and I told them directly that I didn't have the answers. What I did have were some calculated predictions of what could happen if we did close our school campus. Thus, we spent multiple meetings leading up to the campus closures discussing what we might do if our campus closed and had to shift to an online learning model.

It was in these meetings that my already significant appreciation for my staff increased even further. Every question they asked was about how they could support their students, each other, and our school community. There was genuine concern about our more academically prepared and emotionally fragile students. How were we going to ensure all of our students had lunches, internet, access to the curriculum, access to their counselor, everything. Our staff spent countless hours preparing for the inevitable shift before most middle schools had even had their first conversation about the possibility. I even created a FAQ for our parent community to answer common questions that we expected them to have and gave them an opportunity to ask more if need be.

Even with all of our preparation, it's been a hard three weeks. Educating our students online isn't the same as opening their car doors in the morning as they arrive with school, checking in with them as we pass them on our campus, and waving goodbye as they depart at the end of the day. I'm pleasantly surprised at the student turnout in our classes each day, but it's a continued challenge for our staff to not experience diminishing returns therein.

I've also discovered I'm not a very good "online" principal. I might become more comfortable with the role as our time away from the school campus continues, but I'm not so sure. Being an "online" principal is a completely different job than what I've spent the last eight years doing at Union Middle. There's a whole lot less face to face interaction, less walking around and connecting with people, less understanding of who's doing what and who needs help. I miss seeing the staff, our parents, and especially our students.

I miss my normal work day. I really, really miss it.

Three weeks in my role as a parent since my daughters and sons have been unable to attend their own schooling during the day.

Last November, my wife and I pulled our daughters out of the local public school after an incident on campus that led to one of my daughter's arms being significantly bruised. It wasn't the only reason we removed them but it was the final straw for our family. We eventually found a non public school for them and have spent the last few months figuring out the odds and ends of making it work. It hasn't been easy, as we were in a limbo of sorts in making it work for our daughters and our family... but things were just about to be settled when the closures hit.

As shared previously, our daughters have significant special needs. They do much better with set routines and seeing their classmates. While they struggle with transitions, they were beginning to find some stability in their routines with their new school. For them, as special needs students, there is no substitute from in-person support and learning opportunities. It is during these times that our special needs students get overlooked. Even if a school is trying to support them academically, it is rare that an online learning model can truly support a special needs student in need of one to one support. With four kids and me working from home during the day, we just can't provide both of our daughters the one to one support they need.

They miss going to their new school each day and ask when they can go back. They don't understand why not.


Three weeks in my role as a spouse spending every moment of every single day at home with my wife and our four kids. 

I've blogged recently about limiting our time together as a family for a variety of issues, one of which is maintaining a level of safety for all four of our kids. However, with the shelter in place, we have no choice but to all be together. So far, there's only been one hospital visit. It was for one of our sons and unrelated to our daughters. He decided to do a Ric Flair face flop in his bedroom onto a toy truck and split his upper lip open. Of course he decided to do this the night before my school started our online learning schedule. Never a good thing to be in the ER amid a pandemic from 7 pm Sunday to 3 am Monday morning.

Most of our days have been dividing the kids' locations for our mere survival. Separate sides of the table. Separate sides of the house. Separate walks. Separate everything. We don't even watch a movie as a family; it's just too risky. I can't even take my daughters to Costco. If we try to escape for a few minutes and check Facebook or Reddit, we're flooded with depressing Covid-19 news and often something worse. There's no reprieve, no quarter from our daily lives.

My wife and I get about two hours of television and talk each night after the kids go to bed. Netflix has helped greatly but we are down to just a few episodes of Ozark left and have already sped through Tiger King. There's no way to get the kids enough exercise during the day to encourage a better sleep. Longer days mean longer nights somehow for our family. My wife and I are just barely hanging on. Each day is a victory of sorts.

And it's only been three weeks.

Three. Long. Weeks.

Broccoli & Cauliflower

This might come as a shock to anyone who knows me, but I'm often sarcastic in my conversations. I'm told that I have a pretty good "serious face" during these moments, making it rather difficult to figure out if I'm just joking or not. One teacher once told me that they believed I disliked them with a passion because they couldn't get a read on my thoughts. The irony here is that I only have positive opinions about this educator and they're probably one of the best I'll ever work with in my career.

So you can imagine how challenging it must be for my wife to know if I'm serious or not, as she's around me quite a bit.

While some would offer the advice to just not be so sarcastic (and that's great advice), my wife and I instead decided that we would have a "truth" word that I could add to my conversations that would tell her that I was being serious. The word we chose was Cauliflower.

There is one main rule regarding Cauliflower: my wife can't ask for Cauliflower; it can only be given. If there is a moment where she's unsure if I'm serious, she can't say "is this Cauliflower?" Instead, if I'm serious about something I'm saying, I'll just simply add the word "Cauliflower" to the conversation.

For example, if I've purchased her a spa weekend for just her and her friends and she doesn't believe me that it's actually happening, I'll simply say "honey, Cauliflower" and she now knows it's true. This is incredibly helpful in our relationship. I even utilize "Cauliflower" with some of my staff members. I suspect they appreciate it.

Tonight, my wife and I added a second word: Broccoli.

As previously shared, our daughters have significant special needs. We're trying to make things work in our home, but it's increasingly challenging every single day. We have had more than one therapist recommend a residential placement for them. We just can't envision placing our daughters in such an environment; could anyone imagine doing that to their child? That said, we recognize that it's something that is approaching fast on our family's horizon, if only for the safety of our sons and selves.

Given the special needs of our daughters, of which reactive attachment is a huge component, we don't travel anywhere as a family. Every single time we try, we fail. Breakfasts outside of our house (and even at home) turn into a chaotic mess. I can't think of a single car ride that's gone on for more than 10 minutes with all six of us in the car that didn't involve a significant issue (such as vomit, hitting, yelling, throwing, etc). If you ever want to know what torture feels like, imagine a flight delay with all four kids coming back from a family trip. Please note I said "trip" as we don't ever have vacations.

This is our life now.

The challenge as parents is how to raise our age-appropriate sons with as many wonderful experiences as possible, as our daughters cannot attend these events (too loud, too far, too many people, too few people, animals, Santa Claus, wind, cheering, music, etc...). So we, as parents, either have to split up and only one parent goes with the boys... or we don't go at all... or we try to go as a family, even though we know it won't work.

Tonight, we went as a family. It didn't work.

For those local to the Bay Area, there's the Niles Train of Lights in Fremont. My wife heard it was a great experience and wanted to go as a family. I pushed against the idea (see above) but acquiesced as I share her desire to provide these experiences for our kids. To the surprise of no-one, it was a complete failure.

Horrible weather. Rush hour traffic. Disregulated daughters. Hangry sons. Exhausted parents. Crowds. Lines. Noises. Santa Claus.

During the event, I looked at my wife and said that we needed a new word. If either of us came to the other with an event for our family to attend, their spouse could say "Broccoli" with the understanding that we'd take a step back from the idea we were really excited about and figure out if it really made sense for our family. I shared the example that I wanted to take all four kids to a baseball game this Summer and how my wife kindly expressed all of the ways that it could go wrong with all four. I shared how horribly traumatic our attempt to take the four kids to a sensory-friendly Nutcracker performance last week went. It's just how things are for our family right now.

So now we have two words; one that helps our conversations and one that helps our solidarity in best supporting our family. We hope that things will get better in the future, but for now, it's just a lot of Broccoli. 

A Chat with our Leadership Kids

Every so often I visit our 8th grade leadership class. Comprised of 32 of the most amazing students ever, our leadership class has a rather competitive application process to join. Each year, I'm dazzled by the work and compassion of our leadership students. That said, every year brings a new class filled with new personalities and avenues of growth.

I'm a huge fan of our current class. They're fun, bright, kind, silly, and hardworking. They also struggled at times with tasks that call for a bit of independence and initiative. Knowing where they should be as a class at this point in the year, I decided to give them a "this is where you are, this is where I need you to be" chat today during 4th period.

And of course, I followed it up with a letter home to their parents shortly thereafter.

The point of the parent letter is to help frame the conversations from 4th period, specifically the conversation that I wanted to share, the conversation that I may have shared, and the conversation that the kids believe they've heard.

I've found that all three conversations are often quite different.

As I follow up with students, I try to get a sense of the message they took away our time together during 4th period. In speaking with the leadership teacher, I get a second perspective. By including our parents into the conversation, I'll be able to hear and learn from what the students' takeaways truly were. It's possible that they were fine with the pep talk. It's also possible that some students were not pleased with the constructive feedback. I'm ok if they didn't appreciate the message but I want to be able to shift away from the "I didn't like what you had to say" and begin to talk about "you know, there are a few improvements we can make."

I've copied the message to our leadership class parents below. I'm also going to be sending a copy to the leadership students as well. They are fantastic kids; we're very blessed to have them here at Union Middle School

------------------------


Hello,

You are receiving this email if you have a student in our Union Middle School 8th grade Leadership Class. This is not an urgent message; I'm just going to share a conversation I had with the Leadership class during 4th period today.

Over the past few months, I've been able to have numerous individual conversations and even some all-group conversations with our leadership students. I've met weekly, if not more often, with Mrs. Carreras, the leadership teacher, on the group's progress, what they're doing really well, what they may need some support with, and just a general overview of the program.

As a leadership teacher for many years, Mrs. Carreras has been able to compare how independent, how strong, and how "leadsership-esque" her students are from year to year. We discuss how each class has their own personality, their own strengths, and their own possible improvements. Almost always, we see a rather young, silly, talented group of 8th graders from August mature into these amazing, 8th grade award winning young adults by June. The transformation is pretty remarkable.

One struggle that Mrs. Carreras has shared (and that I've personally seen with this year's class) is that the 2017-18 UMS Leadership Class is a bit behind when it comes to class expectations regarding initiative, professionalism, and independence. Individually, I don't see the same issues, but collectively, as a group, there are been a few data points lately regarding events where it feels like our leadership students aren't performing up to their abilities.

This week, I had the pull the weekly Highlights Videos. This is the first time I'd had to do such a thing. 

The video in question had two separate dress code violations, one leadership student shoving another leadership student out of the camera shot, an interview that was of rather low quality, and an overall lack of professionalism, even for 13-14 year olds, that I wouldn't expect at this point in the school year.

Today, during 4th period, we showed the highlights for the students with the preface to see what could be done differently. For the majority of the video, our leadership students were giggling and laughing at their performances. When we ended the video and asked for their thoughts on the video, only one student raised their hand. This student suggested that they act a bit more professional in the video. I agreed.

And then I explained why I had to pull the video, for the reasons described above. I shared that while these videos can be silly at times, there is an expected level of professionalism that that's currently missing. I asked how can I effectively address dress code issues on campus with non-leadership students when the other students see the leadership students not following the dress code themselves. I asked what they're telling our 6th graders what's ok at UMS when they're shoving other students on the UMS highlights presentation. I reiterated that there is a place for the silly parts of the highlight videos, but we are at the point in the year where they need to revisit why they applied for leadership, what talents they have that prompted their inclusion into the class, and what kind of legacy they want to leave for future leadership classes after they promote in June. 

We discussed a few other topics as well. The common theme was a need for an increased sense of initiative. If the DJ is showing up late to the dance, take the initiative and get the speakers out ASAP to see if they're a viable back-up plan. If we want to have an inside-the-quad turkey trot this Friday (of which I'm having nightmares about, for the record), take the initiative and create a segment for the UMS highlights video that shows a scaled map and action figure running the route. If the dance lines are too long, take the initiative and come up with five different possible solutions and start testing them out.

Essentially, we want our leadership students to be a bit more self-supported and less reliant on Mrs. Carreras for explanation. At this point in the school year, we would expect Mrs. Carreras to be more of a guide on the side rather than the sage on the stage. There are times where we do see this initiative from our leadership students. Our goal is to provide more opportunities for them to show this growth and demonstrate their progress.

As I shared with them during 4th period, I absolutely adore this group of leadership kids. They're funny, bright, talented, and destined for much greatness. I also know they're capable of much more than what they're showing right now. Both Mrs. Carreras and I are available to help guide them along the way.

So tonight, if you'd like to have a conversation with your leadership student, I'd be interested to know their thoughts. I often fear that a student will clasp on to one bit of constructive feedback rather than seeing the overall message of support. Additionally, when I asked for questions multiple times during my time with them today during 4th period, they were rather reluctant to speak out and share. Please let them know that I'd be glad to meet with them to discuss anything I've shared and will be making multiple reappearances in their class over the next few weeks to support them.

As a closing, when I asked them if they wanted to be in Leadership, the majority of the class yelled a resounding "yes". I realize that not all students may feel this way and we are always willing to move a student into a different elective if they're feeling that leadership is not what they want to do for second semester. That said, as I shared with them today, I believe in every single one of our leadership students and told them "you were selected for a reason" for the class. I'm hopeful we'll see a renewed focus and initiative over the next few weeks and the remainder of the school year.

They're a great group of kids. Thanks for sending them our way.

Todd Feinberg, Principal

Dear 7th Grade Student: Don't Give Up

​Dear awesome 7th grade student,​

​I'm writing you tonight to share the results from the week's ​elections at UMS. 

By now, you may know that I've already called the respective individuals who were selected for each of the five ASB officer positions. 

By now, you've probably figured out that you did not receive a call, that all of the positions were filled, and that you won't be serving as an ASB officer at UMS in the fall.

I know it can be a bit challenging to receive the news that you were not selected for a position that you campaigned for, that you put yourself out there for, that you spent time making posters for, and that you worked extremely hard to make happen.

I say that I know how you may feel because I myself ran for secretary during my 7th or 8th grade year in middle school. I'm not sure which year it was (i'm old), but what I do remember is that I ran against just one other person. It was me or her. 50% chance. Great odds, I thought.

In the end, it was her. 

I was really bummed. My friends had run. One of them had been selected as an officer. He was celebrating while I was just confused and disappointed by the results.

What hurt the most was that there was no closure or notice from anyone at the school to help explain what happened. The winners were announced over the loud speaker and that was it. 

When I sat in my social studies class and waited for the results to be read over the loud speaker, I started to get a bit excited. After all, I had a 50% chance of winning. My friends said that they all voted for me. I had spent the last two weeks saying hi to everyone in the halls. Surely this counted for something, right?

They read the results for everyone to hear and I realized that I had not been selected. I looked around the room and felt that everyone was looking at me. Self-consciously, I suspected that everyone was internally doing the math in their head: "Todd had a 50% chance of winning and he lost! He finished LAST!"

The rest of the day was a bit rough. I didn't eat with my friends that lunch. Instead, I chose to do a bit of homework in the library, but truly, I was hiding and a bit embarrassed by the news. It's hard to be 13, to put yourself out there, and to fail.

But as I've grown older, I realize that I didn't fail. If anything, I succeeded.

No, I didn't win some random secretary position at some random middle school way back when. Instead, I gained a bit of perspective that sometimes things don't work out how I hoped they would have but it doesn't mean that there won't be another opportunity that I need to be prepared for.

Essentially, you need to make sure you just don't give up.

The loss of the secretary position stayed with me for a while. 

Fast forward to college. I finally managed the courage to run again for an elected position, this time in my fraternity. I end up elected treasurer and am re-elected for my Junior and Senior years. (Disclaimer: I'm not sure anyone else wanted the job)

Fast forward a few more years and I'm being interviewed for my first teaching position. Didn't get it and instead I'm immediately called back to interview for the job I ended up loving for my first five years in education.

And then, I apply for two administrative positions despite having five years of classroom experience. Reach the second round but was the runner up. Came up short. Replayed my second round interview in my head over and over again. A week later, I ended up being selected for the second one.

Two years later, I applied for an assistant principal position at my high school alma mater. Didn't get it. Reapply a year later. End up getting selected this time around.

My point, awesome 7th grade student, is that you're going to be selected for a lot of awesome opportunities in your future. You're also going to lose out on others. All of this is absolutely ok. Just don't give up trying. 

I'm proud of you for putting yourself out there and running for office. You did a great job. Thank you for being a student at UMS. Thank you for being you and making UMS a special place to be. 

I look forward to your 8th grade year and seeing how you continue to be awesome. Keep it up.

Sincerely,

Your very proud principal

Teenagers and Their Tentative Truths

I'll start with a story.

There's a high school student working at their ice cream job. This ice cream employee is not only known for the best peanut butter and chocolate milkshakes in town, but they're a pretty good student and rule follower as well.

This teenager has an hour break between shifts. They know ahead of time about a house party that they want to stop by. Somehow, their mother finds out about the party and says, in no uncertain terms, they are not to attend this party. The teenager agrees that they won't "attend" the party.

However, even though the teenager decides that they're not going to attend the party, they instead choose to just stop by. To the teenager, this is okay... they're not attending the party; they're just stopping by for ten, maybe twenty minutes.

In between their shifts, this teenager gets a ride from a co-worker/friend to the party. They're at the party less than twenty minutes. They don't drink anything they shouldn't. They just say hi to a few friends and then return back to their job for their next shift. It was a brief visit and barely worth a mention.

The next day, the high school student's mother asks the student if they attended the party. He says "no". The parent follows up with a slightly more linear question: "Are you sure you didn't step foot into that house? That you didn't go to the party?" The teenager pauses and thinks to themselves: What exactly am I being asked right now? How can I not lie but still not tell the full truth? No matter the response the teenager gave, unless it was the full truth, the parent already had their answer. It turns out this mom had connected with a family friend who lived across the street from the party and had offered to keep an eye out for the car this responsible student drove.

Eventually, the teenager had to admit that they stopped by the party. The parent grounded the student for not following the parental expectation and also for lying.

The teenager, himself a rather decent honors student and solid son, tried to find a loophole in their parent's mandate and got caught in the web. It's what kids do. It's also something I remember to this day.

Much like the teenager from the above story, let me be blunt and share: your kid will lie to you.

They will lie a little bit about big things.

They will lie a lot about little things.

They will lie for seemingly no reason.

They will lie with intention and purpose.

Your perfect little angel will lie to you.

This is absolutely normal.

In your student's mind, they're not lying. They're just not telling you the full truth. Often, in my conversations with parents, I share that there is a huge bubble of information that we call the "full truth". I'll make a huge circle with my hands to show how large this "truth bubble" truly is. If a child was to tell you everything in the truth bubble, they'd start at the beginning, not leave anything out, have a perfect memory about what transpired, and took full ownership of their decisions. This rarely happens.

Instead, a student will tell you little pockets of truths within this larger bubble. Here is an example:

What you are asking "did you complete your homework?"
What they say: "yes, I did my homework"
What the truth is: "I only did my math homework and not my ELA homework"

To them, they're not lying. They did do their homework. Their math homework is done. You asked if they completed their homework and they have completed their math homework. You didn't ask about the ELA homework though, even though you think you did.

If you asked specifically about their ELA homework, they'd probably counter with another not-a-lie-but-not-the-truth response like "oh, we actually did most of it in class" (not false) or "I only have a few more sentences to write; it's pretty much done" (not false either). Unless you ask directly about the completion of their ELA assignment, you're not going to get the answer to the question you're asking.

The challenge as a parent, as an administrator, is asking the exact simplified question you want an answer to, even if you have to repeat the question over and over again. Instead of asking a broad "is your homework done?" type question, you need to break the request into smaller, much more defined inquiries.

Don't ask "is your homework done?"
Instead, "please show me your math homework"

Don't say "did you talk with your math teacher like we said you would?"
Instead, "tell me about the conversation you had with your math teacher. tell me every word. I'm about to email them, so I want to make sure I have the full story."

Don't say "everything go well today at school?"
Instead, "let's share our favorite part from today and one thing that didn't go as well as we hoped"

As a school administrator, I know that a student's first reaction when they're in our office is to lie. It's just what always happens. Sometimes, I start the conversation with "I know you're not going to tell me the truth when I ask these questions..." followed by "let's restart this conversation again now that we've agreed that we weren't truthful in the beginning."

Personally, I wish that everyone just started with the truth. I wish our students were truthful with their parents about not completing their work. I wish our parents would trust our staff a bit more on certain occasions. I wish every conversation I had with a student started with an agreement of truth.

I understand why our students aren't truthful. They're a little bit scared. They're worried about the truth. Some students are trying to figure out what I know so they can only share that small segment of information. Other students will just continue to lie, even when confronted with an avalanche of facts. A loophole is the friend of every teenager I know.

About 98% of the time, we administrators and parents get to the truth eventually. Odd thing is... any conversation we have with the student often doesn't even involve a consequence. Our students just don't share the full truth because they don't know how to tell the full truth, even if they're told ahead of time that there isn't a consequence attached.

This is actually ok. They're kids. I don't expect the truth right off the bat and neither should our parents. Instead, let's work on asking the questions that can give us the answers we want from our teenagers. Let's understand that our kids won't always tell the truth... and that they need us to provide the structure and possible consequences when they don't live up to our reasonable expectations.

Much like the story shared above, even a responsible honors student can rationalize ways where they feel like they're not lying to their parents. Every student makes a few mistakes. The secret for their growth is to reestablish our adult expectations and make sure a lesson is learned for the next time.

Because there's going to be another party... there's going to be another next time.

An Invisible Kid

As a site administrator, it can be a challenge to get to know every student. It is my goal every year to learn everyone's name and their story. I share this goal with our incoming 6th graders every year, Sadly, this doesn't always happen. Thus, the invisible kid.

You might be a parent of an invisible kid. You may have been an invisible kid yourself. An invisible student is one who doesn't make poor decisions on a routine basis. They work extremely hard in the classroom, competing with other invisible and not-so-invisible students to get the highest possible grade possible on each assessment. They study. They try hard. They are always respectful to their teachers. They rarely, if ever, get into any kind of trouble. They keep their heads down and do their best. They don't draw attention to themselves.

When a substitute teacher who frequents your school often enters the classroom, they're quietly happy to see these invisible students. They don't cause trouble for any teacher, permanent or substitute. They don't necessarily ingratiate themselves with their teachers but they don't misbehave. Rarely, if ever, are these students recognized by their peers, by their teachers, or by the school. They pale in comparison when the students who demand attention (good or bad) stand up for recognition. These are the invisible students who quietly do school each day with little ripples in our shared waters.

I myself was not an invisible kid. I made some decisions that brought attention to my educational journey. Whether it was a high school social studies teacher who said "I've had enough of this student" or a 6th grade science teacher who encouraged me to teach the class myself for our review sessions (disclaimer: I told him I could lead a better test review), I was rarely the student who tried to hide amongst their peers. Often, I made a bad decision that logically impeded my educational journey, but these were my decisions that allowed me to grow during these formative years. For a student to sit quietly in a classroom and just silently comply with the curriculum and expectations is troublesome.

There is a saying that "well behaved women rarely make history". In education, the invisible student could follow a similar mantra. While these are students who can prove to be the backbone of your school community. I an very troubled by an "invisible kid's" decision to not create a persona that is both lasting and memorable during their educational journey. In looking back at this year's graduating class, I missed out on the opportunity to get to know many of these flat-out-awesome students, if for no other reasons than the few students who took up 95% of my time and a disconnect in figuring out who these invisible students were.

That said, the responsibility of an administrator is to recognize as many invisible students as possible. It's not an easy task. These aren't your athletes, your soloists during band concerts, or the students who may visit your office for disciplinary reasons throughout the year. If anything, these are the students you need to go out of your way to connect with. It's a challenge to discover these often-quiet students who don't speak up or stand out. During busy, challenging years, you may miss out on a few of these students. This was definitely the case for our administrative team during the past 2015-16 school year.

After my recent graduation speech, I had a few parent emails that expressed their concern with how their "invisible student" was left unrecognized. They're right. I failed their student. I didn't get a chance to recognize them, to meet them in their classrooms, to celebrate their successes. Likely, the student, partly due to their invisible behaviors, didn't reach out to their principal. They didn't approach me during brunch or lunch supervision to make a connection. They didn't share something special about themselves that we could connect with. This isn't to say that this opportunity was their duty or their expectation, but with a school of over a thousand kids, we administrators need a bit of help to discover the typically invisible students. I wish I could go back in time and spend extra moments with these students. I can guarantee that my work day would have been a good bit more pleasant and rewarding.

If nothing else, I'd also like to place a call to encourage these students to not remain invisible any longer. You don't have to be a star athlete. You don't need to be a top band student. You don't even need to be on site council or in leadership. You, as a student, just need to take the opportunity to connect and choose the available opportunities to share a bit of your school or life experiences with your administrators. Trust me. We want to get to know you. We don't want you to be invisible. If anything, it is the opposite. You are most likely the student to show us that we're making a difference with our students; we often feel like we're not. You might be the student to open our eyes to best support all students; we need these reminders. During our challenging days, you are the student who shows us that our efforts are not going unwanted or unloved.

So don't be invisible. You've got a lot of greatness that needs to be shared. We will help you discover your voice. But sometimes, we administrators need help figuring out who you are and what we can do to best support you. We are definitely willing to do so. Speak up. We are listening.

6th Grade: It's going to be OK

One of the biggest transitions a student will experience is the jump from 5th grade in elementary school to 6th grade in middle school. 

In 5th grade, you may have had one teacher... in 6th grade, you may have up to six (!) teachers.

In 5th grade, you got to use a Chromebook during class... in 6th grade, you get a Chromebook to take home every night!

In 5th grade, you were in one classroom... in 6th grade, you might travel all over the campus to find your many classrooms.

In 5th grade, you were part of a small school community... in 6th grade, the number of grade level peers has tripled!

For many of our 6th grade students, there's a time of adjustment during this transition. For our 6th grade parents, this time of adjustment usually takes a good bit longer. Occasionally, our parents will share their thoughts on the school year, reflecting on how their student's 1st year in middle school went. Below is one such email, edited only for names.

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We would like to recognize the staff at Union Middle School for the support our son received.  (Ms. Bruton, Ms. Zangwill, Mrs. Bankston, Mrs. Holmes, Mrs. Reynolds, Ms. Claire, Ms. Mantell, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Tim, Mrs. Dorazio, both Jills in the office, and Mr. Feinberg) -- I hope I didn’t leave anyone out!

We weren’t sure what to expect from the staff at UMS and were very open regarding our concerns. Our son has grown so much for the 2014-2015 school years as a 6th grader. We were very proud of him for facing his anxiety and overcoming so many obstacles.  This was the first school year where they looked forward to school (ok not always), and we, as parents, enjoyed his accomplishments like never before. Sure, in the past, there were enjoyable moments... but not like this year. Honestly, it was unexpected but greatly appreciated!

We feel it’s so important that each staff member listed above know the impact they had on our son. Their success for 6th grade is due not only to our son's hard work but especially to each and every one of you for embracing him in a positive way!  We know many of you, if not all, went above and beyond -- BOY DID HE THRIVE!!

We would like to give a very special acknowledgment to Ms. Bruton.  Without her ongoing support, I honestly don’t know what our year would have been like. She went above and well beyond for our son and was a complete blessing! Can we clone her? (Todd note: you have my permission to do so)

We could write a book and speak of the many ways we are grateful. I am sure you already know what an amazing staff you have at UMS. We will continue to celebrate the success and push through the challenges!

During elementary school, his academics were always a constant concern from the staff perspective. We didn't give up on him! With the drastic change in the staff environment from elementary school to middle school, our son didn't just survive.. he thrived. His hard work didn't go unnoticed as he made the honor roll all 4 quarters. 

Many tear of sadness were shed over the years and I am happy to say this year we shed HAPPY TEARS!!! From the bottom of our hearts, THANK YOU ALL FOR GIVING US THE BIGGEST GIFT ALL YEAR!!!

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As a site administrators, I love these emails. I wish more parents sent such feedback for the positive things our staff does daily. I'm also thankful for this student's experience in 6th grade. We can't promise rainbows for everyone, but it is definitely our goal. It's a good goal to have.

HELP ME! (also titled: I have a middle school student)

Teenagers are very challenging.

As a parent of four children with the oldest two just starting Kindergarten, I'm already dreading the middle school experience.

It makes sense that the most common request I receive from our parent community as a middle school principal is just a four letter word: HELP.

Help me with my student.
Help me understand.
Help me figure out what to do.
Help me with reassurance that I'll survive to see my teenager through these years.
Help me during these middle school years.
Help me understand how to support my student during middle school.
Help me.
Help.

Over the years, I've come to realize a common thread with these parental concerns that can be very hard for the parents to hear: your kid is very normal.

Yes, they seem weird. They should be weird; they're in middle school and a budding teenager to boot. They're built to be different. The issue isn't your student. You can't fix them. You can only figure out how to best support them. Here are my top four ways to build a better parent to support your middle school student.

1) Don't make excuses for your student's behavior

It is very likely that your student will make a mistake during middle school. Don't make excuses for them. While you can always follow up with the classroom teacher or school administrator regarding the consequence, having a common message that mirrors the school's communication is a must. You may not agree with the lunch detention, but don't attack the consequence; instead, use the situation to talk about the behavior and how to make better decisions in the future.

If you do disagree with the teacher or administrator, you need to find a way to work with them to address your concerns. While you may know your student the best, we have the experience of having thousands of students within our sample size. The best meetings I've been a part of is when the parent asks appropriate questions to further the conversation and understand the What's and the Why's of the incident. Just know that middle school is a great time to make a mistake for your student. These are learning opportunities that can help steer your student to better decisions in the future.

2) Listen to your student... but don't trust them

This might sound a bit harsh but here's a nugget of truth: Kids lie. Not only do they lie, but they lie for no reason and especially in times where it would just be easier to tell the truth. I sometimes start conversations with students who may have made a mistake with the following sentence: "Look... sometimes students start this conversation with a fib... even though I know what's happened... even though I have twelve eye witnesses... even though I have video surveillance footage... even though you have signed a statement that you wrote admitting to the mistake... even with all of this evidence, some students will start the conversation with a fib... so let's start with the truth instead?" Please know that 99% of the students will still start with a fib, even after that speech.

When you are speaking with your student, don't necessarily trust what they're telling you. Teenagers are extremely skilled in telling parts of the truth but somehow leave out the most important details that substantially change the story. I often share that there is a box of truth filled with ten truthful statements. Students will tell you truthful statements 2, 5, and 8. In their mind, they're not lying. To them, omission of the full truth isn't a lie. You need to listen to your student but don't necessarily trust what they're telling you.

3) Work with your student's teachers and administrators, not against them

While you really want to believe your student and the lengthy, very convincing details they share about their seven missing assignments in Social Studies class for first quarter, be very gentle when you contact the classroom teacher on your student's behalf. Despite your student swearing on their new copy of Fallout 4 that they did the work, you may not be getting the full story. The teacher will most likely be able to let you know exactly what happened with each assignment. Chance are they've taken notes along the way, anticipating your student will create an elaborate story about the missing work.

"It disappeared in the cloud" is the new "the dog ate my homework" and just as likely. While it is possible that the teacher made a mistake and misplaced the work, the overwhelming most likely to have happened result is that your student didn't turn them in. The best advice I can share is to have your student meet with the teacher to address the missing work. Feel free to follow up with an email to the teacher if you don't get the full story from your student. Not only does this help your student learn how to advocate for themselves, it provides you, the parent, an opportunity to have the matter solved before you rush in to rescue your student unnecessarily so.

4) Keep your perspective (also, your children are more resilient than you think)

As previously shared, I once had a family share that a 6th grade boy saying a bad, not-appropriate-for-school phrase to their 6th grade daughter was the worst thing that had ever happened to their family. I agree that it was not a pleasant experience for their student, and it led to additional conversations with their student that they may not have wanted to have just yet, but "worst thing that had every happened to their family"?

Earlier that week, I met with a student who was struggling through their parents' divorce. Earlier that day, I fed a student who didn't get breakfast... or dinner the night before. The following week, I counseled a student who was on the verge of losing one of their parents to cancer. Keep your perspective.

I understand that your student's 4.0 GPA may be threatened because they didn't complete a 50 point assignment on time because they had soccer and basketball practice the night before. I recognize that it can be a very hard lesson for your student (and perhaps the parent as well) to not earn a spot on the 6th grade basketball team. I sympathize that their best friend since elementary school may have decided to break away from their friendship for non-communicated reasons. All of these situations are very challenging for a middle school student. This is when your student needs you to be a pillar of support. Commiserate but don't make excuses to your student for what's transpired. Let the missed assignment be a learning experience. Didn't make the basketball team? Start practicing for next year's tryouts. Explain how friendships can come and go... and while losing a friendship is never an easy thing for anyone, share with your student that there are so many more opportunities to make new friends and new acquaintances tomorrow. It will be a better day. Behind the scenes you can schedule study buddy sessions, sign your student up for a private basketball league, and organize play dates with other students your son/daughter may start up a friendship with.

Your student will be ok. It might be scary as they transition through the traumatic-to-them (and traumatic-to-the-parent) experience, but they can and will get through it. Be there to support them.

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The key message repeated through each step is to be a part of the solution. Don't complicate the concern. Your student will latch on to your worries and it may spiral them further downward. Always listen to your student and assume good intentions. Just know that it's going to be ok. They're going to be ok. And just as important, you're going to be ok. Just make sure you ask for help.

Where Should I Send My Student?

Last week, on the online community website NextDoor, a parent asked for feedback on our school district (Union School District) and the nearby Los Gatos Elementary School District. All of the schools had a 10 API rating, they shared. How was one to make the decision of where to send their children to school for the next 12 years?

Various community members chimed in. One realtor gave advice to buy a home in the more expensive Los Gatos area and attend the Los Gatos schools. Another parent suggested looking into the API scores of the middle and high schools, to which a third community member responded that there was more to a school than just an API number. Instead, they suggested that any parent interested in joining a particular school district make an appointment with their would-be principal and "get the real scoop on what is going on" at that elementary school. A different parent chimed in that meeting the principals is a good idea so you can get an idea of their leadership qualities. Knowing how challenging these spring months can be for a school principal, I replied on the thread, sharing concern about making appointments to see a prospective school's principal. I wrote (blue added as emphasis):

Hi everybody... I thought I'd chime in here...

I'm the principal of Union Middle School and love our school district. Our parent community is incredibly supportive through donations, their time, and any parcel taxes or bonds. We do a great job (and yes, I'm biased) with the funds we have and I don't think our students receive any less of an education than our neighbors in Los Gatos. In fact, you may say they get a better education at Union Middle. (Yes, definitely biased) :)  And if you care about API scores, Union Middle did happen to score a few points higher than Fisher Middle did the last time scores were counted. 

I think I can sum up the difference from the eyes of a student who transferred from Fisher about what she likes and dislikes about Union Middle.

Likes: the kids are nicer, much less bullying, I like school more now

Dislikes: I wish I could follow the fisher dress code where I could wear whatever I wanted. (Disclaimer: UMS has a dress code that we enforce. We rarely have to remind kids about the dress code. They just follow it for the most part. Students from other middle schools comment regularly how the dress code isn't enforced at their old schools; again, no proof, just their perception.)

As far as the high schools, I am a huge fan of Los Gatos High School. I visited LGHs for their Distinguished School Nomination. I saw some great teaching, some cool kid conversations, and they're led by a great front office staff and principal. (Edit: One community member felt by only talking about Los Gatos High School, I was implying that I was negative toward Leigh. I later posted and expressed that I'm supportive of Leigh High School as well and would have no problem sending my own child to either school.)

Our three feeder elementary schools are all awesome. They are all equally best prepared for middle school. Truly, you can't go wrong. 

I'm not as familiar with LG's elementary and middle schools but I've had nothing but great interactions with their staff and administrators. When there was an issue between our sports teams, the Fisher principal had the entire fisher team send an apology letter to our kids about their behavior. It was very cool to see a principal who teaches these important lessons. 

Just some thoughts. 

Also, while there is a suggestion to visit the schools and meet the principals, I would like to caution anyone from using this advice. Simply put, we are a public school. We take everyone who lives within our boundaries. As a principal, I want to spend my time with our current kids and make sure they have the best experience. I know it is important to welcome prospective students prior to their arrival, but we just don't have the time to meet with every parent and student who are thinking of moving into our neighborhood and attending our school. I say this as politely as possible and with much care of our current Union Middle kids. 
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I later received an email from a prospective USD/LG parent about the last paragraph from my post on the Nextdoor thread. He asked, given that my suggestion was to not attempt to schedule a meeting with the principal of an elementary school your child may go to, what could a family do to learn more about the different schools. He cited how expensive the houses have become in our area (true), how they wanted to do their research before buying said house (smart), and just needed to somehow acquire a better sense of what the schools and kids' "day-to-day learning" was like at each school. All good points, to which I replied (indicated in blue):

Thanks for the email. I would recommend talking with realtors in the area, perhaps visiting the campus on off-hours (just walking around, getting a vibe), check out websites, look at greatschools.org for recent comments, talk to any parent communities, maybe attend a PTA/HSC meeting, and so forth. 

The truth of the matter is that I don't want parents contacting a school principal in this area and getting frustrated that they're not able to have a chat with them. I like to think I'm a bit more welcoming than the average principal and I myself won't entertain these conversations. We are a public school. I know it's a hard decision on where to purchase a house (I did the same thing a while back) but as a public school, we just accept anyone and everyone who lives in our school boundaries. 

And you really can't go wrong with the local schools anywhere up and down the bay area. I live in Palo Alto right now and if my family didn't live there, I'd entertain moving to the USD school district area based on how impressed I am with this district.

Also, a lot can change in a school based on the staff, principal, or clientele. A good school can struggle with the wrong principal (and we do rotate around a good bit - our school life span is usually 1-5 years). Sometimes, a few poor hires can cause a huge disruption at a school. The opposite (of having teachers who are veteran staff members and disengaged) can also be problematic. These changes can happen overnight at a school. Generally speaking, choosing an area where the schools are good, the neighborhood is safe, and there are supports (friends/playgrounds/work) nearby is the best advice I can give.

Because at the end of the day, the difference for your student at Carlton vs Blossom Hill may be minimal or dependent on something you couldn't have planned for (such as a bully in their classroom or a teacher our on maternity leave).

And thanks again for the email. Time for parking lot duty!

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My goal in my communication with this parent was to hopefully help guide the thought process behind one of the biggest decisions they'll make over the next few years. The choice of where to plant roots directly leads into which school your student will one day attend.

Truthfully, for the strong majority of the students at any school, they will be more than fine. In fact, they'll thrive at any school in either district. Instead of trying to figure out the differences between a Fisher and a Union, I would instead suggest looking at what community you want to live in, where can you best afford a house that best suits your family and finances, and which area is closer and more convenient to your work to give you the most time not on the road but instead at your house with your family. These should be the big determining factors for any family because between the Los Gatos Elementary School District and the Union School District, you can't go wrong.

And if you join the Union School District, I'm excited to meet you at our incoming 6th grade parent night in May prior to the start of your student's school year. We will take great care of them.

A Former Student's Essay

Last weekend, a young gentleman approached me at Philz Coffee and asked if I had taught Living Skills one summer at Palo Alto High School. I answered affirmatively, stuck out my hand, and said "Hello Rahul, how are you doing?" The student paused for a moment and then quickly shook my hand. What transpired next was the usual game of catch up after not having seen a student for a decade: we reminisced about the summer, shared silly stories of what we enjoyed from the class, each provided an update on where we are now in our lives, and a mentioning of a peer from the class who they still keep in contact with. They usually add "and I don't think I would be friends with them if not for your Living Skills classroom".

The class itself was an semester elective made mandatory for graduation that many students struggled with fitting into their schedule during the school year. After all, when you're taking Journalism, playing a sport, and enrolled in five APs, it's a challenge to somehow fit the lone semester Living Skills class into your day. Thus, students flocked to enroll in a five to six week course where they'd learn about drugs, diseases, sex, and life. 

To this day, I can name at least half of the students from each class. Just as each class had a different personality, there were a few students who shined through. Raul above was definitely one of these students. Another was Anna.

Anna was destined for greatness. She was a rising Junior at the time, halfway done with high school. From memory, I can share that she ended up with the highest grade in the class. Everything she turned in was of extremely high quality. She seemed to "get" the big picture of school - how to do well without losing yourself in the process. As the classroom teacher, I often felt dwarfed by her empathy and compassion towards others. She was everyone's friend.

The final assignment for the students was an evaluation of the summer school experience, specific to our classroom. I promised the students that I would read every word they wrote and as long as it was a page, they'd get a perfect score on the assignment. I encouraged their brutal honesty and to allow the essay to flow in whatever direction it took them. Anna, forever the amazing student, wrote the following response, unedited below:

Evaluation of Living Skills

I generally really enjoyed this class. At first I was a little skeptical about how much fun we would have because I had heard form my friends who had taken it during the year, that it was extremely boring and nobody paid attention. However, I was pleasantly surprised. I thought this was a very useful class. I learned a lot more than I ever thought I would. This is the kind of class that I think I will remember. I won't remember algebra or chemistry, but I will remember the things we did in this class. The best part, in my opinion, were all the discussions we had. I really felt comfortable sharing my opinions. Usually, I am shy in class because I don't feel completely comfortable sharing my opinions. That was not the case in this class. I was really happy about that. I liked that everyone shared their opinions because I learned a lot about all different kinds of people. I also learned how lucky I am. I mean I guess I already knew that, but when I was listening to the stories of some of the people in our class, I was like "wow." My parents are so good compared to other people's parents. It made me really appreciate everything. Another thing I liked about this class was that it was so laid-backed. I liked that you didn't pressure anyone and didn't make us stress about anything. That was really nice. I also liked the activities we did like the survivor one and the friend or foe one. I liked the way you taught those valuable lessons. Experience is a better teacher than a lecture. I also liked all the movies we watched and the kickball games. I would actually look forward to class because I found it fun. I've never found a class that fun before.

There were a few things I did not like. I did not like the fact that people were allowed to take points from other people. I thought that was unfair and mean. People worked hard for their grade and I don't see any reason for other people to steal that away. There is no point in it whatsoever. I just thought that was really unfair. That's why I didn't do it. I also did not like the consequences from the kickball game. I don't think it was that unfair, except for the extra credit one, I just don't like writing essays. It kind of takes away the fun in the game.

Let's see, what would I do differently? I would not change much. As I said before I really did like the class. I had a lot of fun and it went by really fast. I guess what I would change is the point thing.I don't think you should do that next year because it's mean. People are being penalized for something that was not their fault or that they didn't deserve. Another thing I would change is the essay after the kickball game. I think it takes away from the game and it doesn't really teach anything. Actually, if you think about it, the one thing it does teach is that if you lose you get a consequence, once again proving that winning is everything. That's not a lesson we want to be taught, now is it? Ok, that's really all I can come up with. I seriously liked this class. I liked the grades. I liked how you graded the articles based on quality, I liked how you stressed participation because that's very important, and I liked that you did not really make people feel bad about their work or anything. I liked that you don't give F's either. I liked our activities and movies and liked all the talking. Yeah, so I think this was a very interesting class. I learned a lot about life.

I saved a handful of my students' evaluations. For reasons you can read above, Anna was one of the selected few. 

While this post was triggered by the chance encounter with a former Living Skills student at the local coffee shop, it's his words I often return to: "and I don't think I would be friends with them if not for your Living Skills classroom". 

As an educator, we are blessed to meet so many amazing, young lives destined for greatness. I find it to be the most rewarding and yet heartbreaking part of the profession. While we rise with their joys and triumphs, it's the struggles that give us pause and make us question why. 

Anna was involved in a car accident coming home from college during the summer of 2007. She did not survive. She was 20. I've often meant to share Anna's essay with her parents. Today, somewhat out of the blue, I finally emailed her father. 

Enjoy your moments with your students. Don't hesitate to give their parents a call with good news. Take care of them, just as you would your own child. 

Recognizing the Quiet Gifts of the Other Half

Earlier this year, our Intro to Leadership teachers put together a very well attended Recognition Breakfast for our staff and students. Each staff member could invite one student who they felt was deserving of the honor. I left the criteria somewhat vague, although I did push for the students who may not always be selected and recognized by their peers and school for their positive efforts. We called it the Pawsitive Breakfast; after all, we are the Union Tigers.

This past weekend, I received a very timely and warm email from a parent where I was reminded of why we make these extra efforts to give every student a chance to be recognized. Despite amazing efforts by our staff in and out of the classrooms to support all students, there are always more opportunities to recognize those students who often fly slightly under the radar at our schools. 

Here is the email:

Last night at the dinner table (our student) enthusiastically shared with us what he is learning in Journalism. It seems he's quite passionate about Photo Shop. The fact is, it's the first time we have heard him excited about anything school related! 

You see, (our student) loves beauty and he loves design. He's probably the only (middle school) boy I know who snaps pictures of everything he sees as breathtaking. Clouds, trees, anything outdoors. 

He's also gifted verbally and has quite a knack for arguing. He's extremely empathetic towards people and animals. He has trouble sleeping if we passed a homeless person without giving him food from our car supply of goods. He's a negotiator - not just for personal gain - but loves to help resolve conflicts between people. His infectious enthusiasm and leadership is a delight to many. Enduring, overcoming and continuing to battle the anxiety he has endured has taken more resolve than most adults would be able to handle. 

Sadly there's no award for those things at school. Instead he continues to compare himself to his sister and friends who happen have strengths in math, science and language arts, the subjects regarded as markers of intelligence and a prosperous future in our school system.  

This article really struck a chord with me. This is more of an observation than an actual request for anything. 

Please note as well that in my gut I believe that you are doing everything, within your restricted system, to discover and celebrate the various gifts of all of your students. I'm like (my student), or maybe (my student) is like me, always rooting for the underdog, gravitating towards the students who are quiet, awkward, not so popular in this culture. Recently he's stood up twice for kids who were made fun of - a boy with a back brace and a lonely boy who sits by the gym everyday. 

As a parent, this carries more weight to me than the good grade. I'm confident (my student) will find his way and we will encourage and support him on his journey that will probably not be "traditional". If I could wave a magic wand, I just wish the school, in general, was a place where all teachers and staff celebrated and recognized the quiet gifts of the other half. 

Thank you for recognizing and taking action when you let (our student) pick an elective. You have always been his advocate and gone above and beyond for him. You are great at what you do. 

Have a great weekend.

What this parent did not know is that I tested out Google Forms with my staff last Wednesday. One of the questions on the Google Form was "what student has impressed you the most this year?" As I scrolled through all of the responses, I was impressed that the above parent's son was mentioned by a staff member as having impressed them the most throughout the year. Truthfully, he is a worthy candidate. We do have staff members who recognize these students; the goal is to make sure our students hear our voices of support and approval.

All of our students have strengths. They are all "gifted & talented" whether it be socially, athletically, academically, emotionally, or otherwise. Sometimes, the focus in middle school is solely on academics; other times, especially in our high schools, our athletes receive a disproportionate amount of attention and recognition. The strong push to being academically college ready ignores the skills our students will need when they're at college, living alone, and interacting with other 18-22 year-old student of varied backgrounds. 

Thus, my goal: let's find ways to realize the awesomeness in all of our students. Yes, the education setting can be a "restrictive system" at times, but this doesn't mean we can't create opportunities to celebrate and recognize the varied gifts of all our students. Build a master schedule that includes electives like Journalism where all students can be successful. Don't wait for the next Pawsitive Assembly to celebrate the gifts of your students, whether it be singing, sharing, or even Photoshop. I guarantee that you will be impressed.

Transitioning Back to School

Just prior to returning to school after the holiday break, I sent the usual "Welcome Back from the Principal" email to our staff. I shared a few stories from my own vacation, highlighted a few upcoming conferences that various staff members would be attending, and included a few jokes of expected student comments now that we're nearing the end of the first semester. Nestled at the end of the email, I included a quick reminder of how challenging our lengthy away-from-school breaks can be for some of our more fragile students. 

As a former opportunity teacher, I was challenged daily with balancing the emotional needs of my students as I supported them academically through their studies. We spent significant efforts on providing structure, care, and guidance for our students during their school days. Very often, after a three day week, my students would return a bit emotionally fractured from spending an extra day at home. A week off during Spring break could throw some of our more adjusted students into a complete tailspin. Worse, the two week absence over the Winter break would often prompt a complete rebuilding of our students' emotional safety and willingness to participate in our class. 

Having experienced these challenges as a classroom teacher, I always try to remind our staff about leading with their heart during these first few days back. We don't know how their Winter break truly was and how it will affect them during their return to school. I've seen a challenging two week layoff from school manifest itself in three distinct ways among our more fragile students.

Student 1: Humpty Dumpty

A few of our emotionally at-risk students returned from the holiday break barely able to make it through the school day. Our school counselor and mental health therapist have seen many of these students and have begun to put these students back together again. Many of these students have an unstable home situation and struggle with the lack of structure during this time. As they return to school, they immediately act out and hopefully seek out support from their peers and trusted adults. This rehabilitation process can take days, sometimes weeks, to get the student back into a space where they're able to focus on their academic growth. These students need the support of their entire village to return to their previous standing as an engaged learner at your school.

Student 2: Everything's Fine

We also see a few students return with the repeated mantra of "everything's fine" when asked about their holiday break and how they're feeling being back at school. Truthfully, it couldn't be further from the truth. Everything isn't fine. They're either slowly building up their walls of distrust and refusal to discuss what truly happened during their time away from school. Again, our school counselor and mental health therapist spend many of their days with these students, connecting and chipping away at these very real emotional concerns. 

Student 3: Back to the Routine

And for most of our students, the time away from school was truly okay. While they may not have had the holiday vacation they expected or wanted to have, they're excited to return to their daily school routines, to spend time with their peers, and catch up with their adult mentors. These students actually look forward to the end of their break so as to return to the structure school provides. Perhaps they miss spending time in the game room, playing wall ball at lunch, or just generally miss the support of their peers, these students have built sufficient inner emotional strength to look forward to the routine of school and not let the changes of their days negatively affect them. Fortunately, after a few years spent at our school, many of our at-risk students return from their school breaks in this specific category.

As a site administrator, my role to to support both our students and staff with the transition back to school. Similar to the students, staff members sometimes struggle with the return to school after the holiday break. One staff member mentioned just how difficult it was to leave their young child after spending every waking moment with them for the past two weeks. I try to keep a relatively clear calendar on the days following a lengthy break, so as to have the necessary time to meet with students and reconnect with staff. These are the days an administrator needs to be especially present for your staff and students. 

If you're a classroom teacher, in what ways can you best support your at-risk students during their return from lengthy breaks?

If you're a site administrator, how can you best support your students and staff during these first few days back from break?