Back in the fall I mentioned how this school year felt more significant than most since it marked my twentieth year of teaching. I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time, but it’s also a pretty big year for other reasons as well: Not only is this year the last one any of my nephews will be down at the elementary level with me as Nephew #3 moves on to middle school, but it’s also the year that Nephew #1 graduates from high school.
One one hand, it’s an exciting time. Graduation is a pretty big milestone. He’s eighteen now. His senior year is over. He’s decided where he’s going to school, and only has to get through another summer of frying up McNuggets before that part of his life begins.
But it’s hard for me to not also see how this marks a definitive ending in his life as well, which is kind of astonishing when I think of everything I’ve done with him over the years: Buying him his first CD; taking him to countless movies, including his first R-rated one; taking turns with him on the drums when my cousins got together to play through a four-hour jam session (at least until he started playing guitar and bass); having a friend of mine write arrangements of some popular rock songs for the bells to try and trick him into practicing more for middle school band; having some deep talks on long drives; seeing several concerts with him; sitting in the corner and watching over him while he had his last conversation with my younger sister, his aunt, hours before she died; waiting in THREE midnight Harry Potter lines at Border’s, one of which he was too young and tired for and hated; driving him to Tae Kwon Do every Wednesday evening for a year and a half and then having dinner at Subway afterward, where he ordered the same sandwich every time -- I do not exaggerate. I vividly remember his crackling, pubescent voice saying “Turkey and bacon sub on Italian with lettuce, mayonnaise, and American cheese.” Obviously I could go on and on here.
I know that in almost every instance the title of Godfather is an honorary one at best, but I took it to heart, particularly after he lost a godmother who had been very involved in his life and loved him and his brothers more than anything else on Earth. And it’s never been lost on me (particularly after the number of times his mother has pointed this out) just how many ways the two of us are alike. You know that saying about “If I only knew back then what I know now?” There have been more than a few times I’ve wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him when I see him making the same mistakes I’ve made. But I know it wouldn’t do any good, just like it wouldn’t have for my high school self. Because back then I also would have been positive that I knew what I was doing better than anyone else, and I wouldn’t have listened much either. And I’ve made it this far, so there’s probably hope for him as well.
Not long ago we were all at a visitation, and while he sat talking about college plans and economics with his step-brother’s college graduate girlfriend, I had a moment of seeing him going beyond the person he’s always been and instead saw a flash of the person he’s about to become. It’s a perfectly natural transition for where he is in life, and it’s one that he’s more than ready to meet.
But back at my sister’s house, things are different. Now there are more cars in the garage than bikes. The swing set has disappeared from the back yard. There used to be an entire room taken over by Legos, and I don’t even know where they’re stored anymore. The boys are growing up. And the only thing left between Nephew #1 and UW-LaCrosse is a summer of Xbox, guitar, frying up McNuggets and getting in a couple of post-senior victory lap months with his friends before they all move on to all that's yet to come.
Whenever I drive past Andover High School now, it has never looked smaller.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Friday, June 1, 2012
The Gray Area
I had another retirement party to attend last night. It was for three people at my school, two of whom were on my first grade team back in the first year of my career. Normally a party like this would send my introverted nature into overdrive and I'd be trying to escape the smothering feeling that so many people would be starting up in me, but this was a room full of people I knew fairly well so happily it was a good time. But it was a big closure moment in a lot of ways too, which is kind of dangerous for me right now.
If I start to feel too much like the school year is ending and there is still a week to go, there's a big temptation to start tuning out: There's not as much homework to bring home anymore, I start waking up WAY too early so my daily routine begins to slowly drift into my more summerlike schedule, and it becomes more difficult to invest the same kind of wholesale effort into everything I do that is usually there during the rest of the year. I'm not saying that I completely give up -- I'm just saying it becomes harder not to.
But some catalyst like this retirement party comes along, followed by Track and Field Day today, and suddenly the finish line is in view and the ideas of summer begin creeping in. My summer this year is pretty open at the moment since I don't have any concrete plans beyond the same daily routine I'll eventually fall into, which isn't so bad. But at the same time, there's that whole inertia thing. When there are parts of your life you aren't as satisfied with, whether they are major or minor, it seems like having the better part of three months away from your job would be a perfect time to work on those things. But to get me to shake off the ease of routine? Not something that happens easily. The start of summer is when I can ambitiously start to think about what I'm going to do to take advantage of all this time. The end of summer will have the onset of another school year to distract me from beating up on myself too much for all of the things I never got around to trying or finishing.
I always want to start strong and hope to finish as strong. But it seems I really need someone kicking my butt about it to make it happen.
But it's not all a dark and dangerous time. The last week is one I always soak in, since it's the last few days I get to spend with this group of students, many of whom (but let's not kid ourselves; certainly not all of whom) have become personally important to me. And this year-end has an added element of poignancy for me since Nephew #1 is graduating from high school this weekend -- another post about that likely to follow in the coming days. Plus I've got some changes coming in my job as a long-term colleague is moving on to another school. I'm very happy with who is coming in to take her place, but it's still going to be a big piece of different waiting in the fall. I'm very confident it's going to be a good different though, and I'm looking forward to it.
But not for a few months yet....
If I start to feel too much like the school year is ending and there is still a week to go, there's a big temptation to start tuning out: There's not as much homework to bring home anymore, I start waking up WAY too early so my daily routine begins to slowly drift into my more summerlike schedule, and it becomes more difficult to invest the same kind of wholesale effort into everything I do that is usually there during the rest of the year. I'm not saying that I completely give up -- I'm just saying it becomes harder not to.
But some catalyst like this retirement party comes along, followed by Track and Field Day today, and suddenly the finish line is in view and the ideas of summer begin creeping in. My summer this year is pretty open at the moment since I don't have any concrete plans beyond the same daily routine I'll eventually fall into, which isn't so bad. But at the same time, there's that whole inertia thing. When there are parts of your life you aren't as satisfied with, whether they are major or minor, it seems like having the better part of three months away from your job would be a perfect time to work on those things. But to get me to shake off the ease of routine? Not something that happens easily. The start of summer is when I can ambitiously start to think about what I'm going to do to take advantage of all this time. The end of summer will have the onset of another school year to distract me from beating up on myself too much for all of the things I never got around to trying or finishing.
I always want to start strong and hope to finish as strong. But it seems I really need someone kicking my butt about it to make it happen.
But it's not all a dark and dangerous time. The last week is one I always soak in, since it's the last few days I get to spend with this group of students, many of whom (but let's not kid ourselves; certainly not all of whom) have become personally important to me. And this year-end has an added element of poignancy for me since Nephew #1 is graduating from high school this weekend -- another post about that likely to follow in the coming days. Plus I've got some changes coming in my job as a long-term colleague is moving on to another school. I'm very happy with who is coming in to take her place, but it's still going to be a big piece of different waiting in the fall. I'm very confident it's going to be a good different though, and I'm looking forward to it.
But not for a few months yet....
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Discombobulated Optimism
I have to believe that an elementary school is a very unique workplace setting. I hate falling back on the cliché of saying “we’re all a family” because I think it’s both lazy and untrue, but I do feel the people who work together in an elementary school are closely intertwined by our greater sense of collective purpose and the personal ownership we bring to what we do.
Two years ago there was a seismic shift in my school district when several schools were closed. The aftershocks of the domino effect that followed as hundreds of district staff were reassigned is still being felt today, and this spring those aftershocks have been all too noticeable in my building. It’s funny in a way: Even though every spring brings a few staffing changes as plans come together for the approaching school year, it seems like people are always surprised when they occur, even if they know changes are inevitable. (I openly admit to being one of these people.) And don’t read this wrong -- I’m not of the opinion that change is a bad thing. Change is just how life happens. Sometimes the changes that come along turn out to be vast improvements over what had been before, but sometimes they aren’t. Different people bring different attributes and principles into the relationships and experiences that form, and it’s not uncommon for dynamics to emerge that nobody could have predicted. Even though that’s simply human nature, it always fascinates me to see it happen.
But when you look at the degree of change that’s happening this year, it’s very different. I honestly cannot think of any other time I’ve seen at my school that has brought the same kind of upheaval as we’re seeing now. There are some major retirements, some jobs being cut for a wide variety of reasons, and some people deciding to move on to other opportunities. The confluence of all of these shifts coming to light over a period of weeks really seems to be leaving people feeling pretty discombobulated. I’ll credit that description to a friend of mine, but ‘discombobulated’ is one of my favorite words so it’s likely I would have used it anyway. It’s certainly an apt description of what’s been going on.
All of this business was highlighted over the weekend at a retirement party several of us ‘veterans’ attended. Seeing the group that collected for the well-wishing was, for me, kind of an event. Here was this reunion of people representing a given moment in time, the characters who populated my daily life so completely and not that long ago, coming back together after being scattered in so many directions. I looked around the room at all who were there and was struck by the realization that after this school year closes, there will only be a handful of people left at my school who have been there longer than I have. Seriously. Out of a staff of about eighty or so people, there will be fewer than ten who have been around longer than me. And out of those that remain, there will probably be a few more moving on to new things sooner than later.
Thinking about what the next few years will be like with this newest iteration of our school’s staff, I find myself looking at it from many different view points at once. For one, I’m a little concerned about what will be different when some of the consistency to which I’ve grown accustomed is removed from the equation. I’m also very appreciative for some of the changes that have already happened and how they’ve brought new energies and perspectives to our staff. But I’m also a little hesitant to think of how high up the seniority ladder I’m climbing and that I might be turning into one of the experienced veterans people are going to look at for leadership in the same way I’ve looked to so many other people for guidance for so, so long. I find myself pretty comfortable with the character definition that Leo McGarry assigned to Josh Lyman back on “The West Wing” when he told Josh, “You don’t want to be ‘The Guy.’ You want to be the guy that ‘The Guy’ relies on.” Yep. That’s me.
But then I think of what our staff is right now. It can’t even be divided as easily as The People Who’ve Been There Longer and The Newer People anymore, because many of us have had two years to figure out where our places are in this new group, and who our people are inside of it. And even if I find the prospect of so much change a little bit daunting, I also see it as an opportunity. Because, if I can echo back to an earlier point, even though a lot of our staff is still in a ‘getting to know each other’ phase, we really are driven by a strong sense of common purpose and an increasing urgency about that purpose. So even if I feel slight personal trepidation about some of the changes taking place and what could possibly happen in their wake, I’m also feeling a lot of optimism. Not because the future is going to be some breezy ride around the lake -- because this is education and that simply doesn’t happen -- but because the people who are moving on have laid the groundwork for the people coming in to take over and move forward to bigger and better things. And regardless of the obstacles we encounter, I believe that’s the direction we’re heading.
Just don’t expect me to dance around with a silly hat on during a team-building activity and smile about it... because we all know THAT ain’t gonna happen....
Two years ago there was a seismic shift in my school district when several schools were closed. The aftershocks of the domino effect that followed as hundreds of district staff were reassigned is still being felt today, and this spring those aftershocks have been all too noticeable in my building. It’s funny in a way: Even though every spring brings a few staffing changes as plans come together for the approaching school year, it seems like people are always surprised when they occur, even if they know changes are inevitable. (I openly admit to being one of these people.) And don’t read this wrong -- I’m not of the opinion that change is a bad thing. Change is just how life happens. Sometimes the changes that come along turn out to be vast improvements over what had been before, but sometimes they aren’t. Different people bring different attributes and principles into the relationships and experiences that form, and it’s not uncommon for dynamics to emerge that nobody could have predicted. Even though that’s simply human nature, it always fascinates me to see it happen.
But when you look at the degree of change that’s happening this year, it’s very different. I honestly cannot think of any other time I’ve seen at my school that has brought the same kind of upheaval as we’re seeing now. There are some major retirements, some jobs being cut for a wide variety of reasons, and some people deciding to move on to other opportunities. The confluence of all of these shifts coming to light over a period of weeks really seems to be leaving people feeling pretty discombobulated. I’ll credit that description to a friend of mine, but ‘discombobulated’ is one of my favorite words so it’s likely I would have used it anyway. It’s certainly an apt description of what’s been going on.
All of this business was highlighted over the weekend at a retirement party several of us ‘veterans’ attended. Seeing the group that collected for the well-wishing was, for me, kind of an event. Here was this reunion of people representing a given moment in time, the characters who populated my daily life so completely and not that long ago, coming back together after being scattered in so many directions. I looked around the room at all who were there and was struck by the realization that after this school year closes, there will only be a handful of people left at my school who have been there longer than I have. Seriously. Out of a staff of about eighty or so people, there will be fewer than ten who have been around longer than me. And out of those that remain, there will probably be a few more moving on to new things sooner than later.
Thinking about what the next few years will be like with this newest iteration of our school’s staff, I find myself looking at it from many different view points at once. For one, I’m a little concerned about what will be different when some of the consistency to which I’ve grown accustomed is removed from the equation. I’m also very appreciative for some of the changes that have already happened and how they’ve brought new energies and perspectives to our staff. But I’m also a little hesitant to think of how high up the seniority ladder I’m climbing and that I might be turning into one of the experienced veterans people are going to look at for leadership in the same way I’ve looked to so many other people for guidance for so, so long. I find myself pretty comfortable with the character definition that Leo McGarry assigned to Josh Lyman back on “The West Wing” when he told Josh, “You don’t want to be ‘The Guy.’ You want to be the guy that ‘The Guy’ relies on.” Yep. That’s me.
But then I think of what our staff is right now. It can’t even be divided as easily as The People Who’ve Been There Longer and The Newer People anymore, because many of us have had two years to figure out where our places are in this new group, and who our people are inside of it. And even if I find the prospect of so much change a little bit daunting, I also see it as an opportunity. Because, if I can echo back to an earlier point, even though a lot of our staff is still in a ‘getting to know each other’ phase, we really are driven by a strong sense of common purpose and an increasing urgency about that purpose. So even if I feel slight personal trepidation about some of the changes taking place and what could possibly happen in their wake, I’m also feeling a lot of optimism. Not because the future is going to be some breezy ride around the lake -- because this is education and that simply doesn’t happen -- but because the people who are moving on have laid the groundwork for the people coming in to take over and move forward to bigger and better things. And regardless of the obstacles we encounter, I believe that’s the direction we’re heading.
Just don’t expect me to dance around with a silly hat on during a team-building activity and smile about it... because we all know THAT ain’t gonna happen....
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