Next Steps

I found out last week that I will be transferring schools next year.  Change feels like it has been imminent all year given my participation in the Aspiring Principals Academy, but when the change happened, it felt like it came very quickly.

Change has never been something that is hard for me because I grew up moving every eighteen months to two years - no, not army-brat . . . large corporation child.  This is different, though.  The change is exciting and full of new possibilities, but I am leaving a place that I helped to build from the ground up - almost literally ( I didn't do the bricks and mortar, but I helped pick all the furniture!) - so I feel sad, too.

What I learned, though, when I worked at the district level in another place is that the children in our schools really are all our children.  I saw the effect that strong practice in one classroom, one building has across a system.  As a teacher, I didn't really understand that and having gone back in to a school building, I am reminding myself of it since my view has, once again, become a little more myopic.  All that I've learned and all the ways that I've grown will come with me, and I will work diligently to make those experiences have a positive impact where I'm going.  I also will learn and grow more from the people with whom I'm going to work.  That is the exciting part.

Here is the e-mail I shared with the RB Faculty and Staff when my departure was announced at the end of last week:

Hello, River Bluff CREW.

As I write this, I am going to try to avoid the following:

• making this sound like an Oscars acceptance speech - although I should probably have won one of those at some point - "First, I would like to thank . . ."
• sounding like I'm walking out the door immediately because I have miles to go before I sleep (thank you, Mr. Frost).

I have worked in many places over 23 years, and I know that I've taken important parts and pieces of those places with me wherever I've gone next.  I can honestly say, though, that I have grown more as a person through this work with you than I ever could have imagined because of the amazing professionals that you are.  Thank you for challenging me, pushing my thinking, and, most importantly, supporting and growing children through pushing your own practice.  I greatly appreciate being a part of the RB family.

I am excited to embrace the new challenges and experiences ahead as a White Knoll Timberwolf - going back to a school where I loved teaching!  I know and respect so many of the faculty and staff, and I can't wait to get to know all of the White Knoll learning community.

Make no mistake, though, I am so grateful to be taking the best you all have given to me as a learner and leader on the next part of my journey.  

With love and eternal gratitude,

jp

-- 

Julie Painter

Academic Dean for Innovation

River Bluff High School

Our Purpose

There is a student - we will call him Dante. I am struggling to help Dante right now, and here's why - Dante exists in an educational system that is not structured to meet his needs, to support him as a learner. And when I say "a system," I don't really mean just our school or our district. I am talking about the American (high school) education system where students take courses that are strictly delineated by subjects in which they earn Carnegie units based on "successful" completion of those courses, and yes, let's go there, their academic achievement is based (largely) on grades and standardized test scores.

Dante is smart. His grades are typically pretty average, and his test scores, while strong, are not off-the-charts high. He does read ten to fifteen books a week.  As a matter of fact, I recently made a deal with him; if he turns in his missing assignments and completes his work this week, I will give him a college-level Physics textbook I have in my possession (so far, he's completed all of his make up work except for one paper, and he e-mailed me twice this weekend to see about getting his hands on the textbook).

Dante doesn't do homework, generally, though, for two reasons.  One is that he reports seeing no point in it. He said "I already know all of this stuff.  Why can't I just take a test and be done with it?" And by a test, Dante means for the whole course, not just a unit test, so he can "move on." The second reason Dante doesn't do his homework is that he has been diagnosed with an extreme depressive disorder, and he has become suicidal. Dante describes his current mental and emotional state as one of hopelessness. "There is no point," he repeats. "I am not motivated to do anything anymore." His life feels full of trivialities to him because he wants to go to a specialized college he's found to study Quantum and Theoretical Physics, and he can't see how to get there from where he is in his life right now.

There is so much to unpack here, and as I reflect on Dante's situation, I am left with more questions than answers. Does Dante really know all the things he thinks he knows? What is our evidence that he does? What is our evidence that he doesn't? How is his mental illness impacting his ability to learn versus his ability to complete tasks? How can we instill meaning and value in learning with him when what he is being provided now does not seem authentic or important to him? Do we really believe it is our responsibility as educators to grow all learners, even students who seem to "know it already" or who struggle deeply with mental illness? Does ALL really mean ALL?

There it is again - the question that (rightfully) dogs us at every turn. I spoke to a colleague about Dante, and my colleague's response was, "Well, he just needs a special school." And, you know, Dante does need a special school. Maybe Dante needs a place where teachers measure where Dante is in his learning, share that data with him and create a plan with him to develop his learning in those identified areas. Maybe Dante needs a school where teacher-experts work together across multiple disciplines to create authentic learning experiences that challenge him to make connections in his learning. Maybe Dante needs a school where he could participate in developing some of those experiences and the assessments that would show what he knows. Perhaps the educators in this school would would help Dante realize that learning isn't just about the demonstration of knowledge on a test (or assessment or project), but it's also about growing as a person in demonstrating a growth mindset and collaborating in a meaningful way with people who don't always think like him or who have experiences like him (because, I'm guessing, the specialized college he wants to attend will expect him to persevere when his work gets hard or to collaborate with others inside of the complex work.)

Here is what I know - we can be that school for Dante. We may not be there yet completely, but we are on the road; we are growing and moving ourselves in the direction of meeting all students where they are and taking them further. Teacher leaders are in a professional learning cohort that is pushing their own thinking in that direction and challenging them to consider how to support other teachers to grow and move in order to provide the learning experiences that will support ALL children. Dante needs us to be that school; we have to help him find hope and purpose in his now so we can help him get to where he wants to go in the future. What a privilege to be that school for Dante, what an opportunity - what a responsibility.