Typically it is about this time of year when I wax poetic about the changing of the seasons. Fall is my favorite time of the year. But this isn’t about marching band or high school football or the changing of the leaves. There is plenty of time for that. This is about the seasons of life.
In his back-to-school welcome to staff, our superintendent shared a quote.
“Life is a series of seasons, and what works in one season may not work in the next. What season are you in right now? What does this season require?” James Clear
It got me thinking about the seasons of my career. I’m starting year 32 in education.
In the 90s, I was a new teacher. I really had no idea what I was doing. (I have often thought that I need to reach out to those students who had me in my first few years and apologize.) I remember being surprised when I asked students to turn in their assignment and some did not have it done. What? Is that a thing? (Apparently I had forgotten any of the times I handed my own work in late.) I remember the first student who asked me if he could leave class because he “just needed to.” I told him no, and he proceeded to blurt out a profanity. He taught me that our students will often tell us what they need, if we will listen. And if we don’t, they will find a way to get it anyway.
And I remember Barb Lacey taking me under her wing and helping me learn the really important things. Engaging lessons, yes. Formative assessment, yes. But really she taught me that our relationships with students and with each other are what matter the most.
Somehow new teachers today seem so much more ready than I was.
In the early 2000s, I was a veteran teacher and an aspiring administrator. Just when I felt like I had my footing in the teaching realm, I was right back at the beginning in administration. I remember the day in my first year as an AP when I stood in our principal’s office and cried. He had told me before I took the job that a perk of administration was that I could go to the bathroom anytime I needed to. He lied, and I told him so. There was never time for a break.
I remember Jim Sutfin and Beth Fink and Marshall Smith helping me learn the ins and outs of this new world. Engaging professional learning, yes. Data-driven decision making, yes. But really they taught me that our relationships with students and with each other are what matter the most.
Now I guess I am a veteran administrator. And while I continue to learn from old and new mentors, it’s my turn to share what I know with others. I know a thing or two about good instruction, about systems leadership, about facilitating change. (I even know a thing or two about leading through a global pandemic now.)
But what I know most is what John Schwartz reminded us of at our kick off. Our relationships with students and with each other are what matter the most.