Puzzling

My father loves puzzles. My entire life, there was always a puzzle in progress on a table in our family room. My Dad was always working on a puzzle while at home. Some of my best conversations with my Dad were sitting at that table watching him struggle with puzzles. He is one of the smartest men I’ve ever known and the words of wisdom imparted while I watched him work will never be forgotten. We lived in a small town, many years before the internet, so finding puzzles was a treasure for my Dad. He completed some of the hardest puzzles I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, my Dad can no longer work on puzzles. In fact, a puzzle has been sitting on his puzzle table for a little over a year.

During my last visit, I woke in the middle of the night. Not wanting to wake up my Dad by turning on the tv and unable to find anything interesting to read, I found myself at his puzzle table. This puzzle was ridiculous. It was of a sunrise over a massive ocean. In short, it was 10,000 pieces of the same darned color.  I struggled with this puzzle. I fought with this puzzle. I got angry. I was delighted when I found pieces that belonged together. At times, I became frustrated. At times, I was thrilled. I worked hard-real hard. I was determined. I was sure I would eventually get this puzzle. 

As I completed this difficult task, I started thinking about school. Finishing the frame of the puzzle was most important, just like a good lesson plan. We can’t come into our classrooms without a great plan of what we are doing. Our students come in different shapes, sizes, colors. Just like each piece of the puzzle, each student is unique.  Some pieces fit together nicely while others won’t come together no matter how hard we try.  Putting together that puzzle required creative thinking. I could not use just one process. I also could not use the same process I use on my 100 piece puzzles. I had to use new ways of thinking-much like we do with our students when the old ways are not working. I quickly did the easy parts and spent the bulk of my time on the hard parts.  It required patience. It required a lot of time.

In the early morning hours, as I had been working on the puzzle for most the night, my Dad woke up. He came into the family room and saw what I was doing. He shuffled over to me and started making a couple of suggestions. At first I wanted to reject his advice. He had let this puzzle sit for almost a year-I was the one who had worked on it for 5 straight hours so who was he to come in and start giving “advice”. But I realized that he may have advice that mattered, he may have something that I want to hear. He may just be able to place that one piece that would help me finish. I didn’t reject his help. I listened and I worked hard on what he suggested. Collaboration is key, but being open to that collaboration is the engine that key will start.

I finished the puzzle. I had the greatest sense of accomplishment. I stood back and admired my masterpiece.  This is the same feeling I have at the end of each school year. Later in the afternoon, my Dad told me to put the puzzle away.  I thought I would cry.  I had worked so hard for so long and I was told to take it apart of put it back in the box.  He then handed me a new box. It was time to start another puzzle. And I did. But I used the lessons from the first puzzle to start the next one.  Our work in our school is not much different.

Difficult Conversations

Last Tuesday morning, I woke at my normal 4am and convinced myself not to go to the gym (the only time it has been a good thing for me to miss going to the gym). Instead I watched the replay of the National Football Championship game. My husband woke up at his normal 5:30am and in just a few moments, I realized something was wrong. Before too long, my husband collapsed.  Unable to speak or stay conscience, I was highly concerned what may be happening. In my mind I wondered if he had had a stroke, or a heart attack, or maybe even worse. Unfortunately I have spent way too much time this last year in hospitals and waiting in the ER was a mixed bag of emotions. As my husband was wheeled into a CT scan, a very nice lady came into the ER room where we had been assigned and began asking me questions. She had such a gentle nature about herself and her questions seemed to be of great concern for my husband and for my well-being and somehow she was able to ask me questions about his insurance and before I knew what was happened, she was asking for my debit card to pay the deductible. I was astonished that even though I had no idea how my husband was doing and what we may be facing, that this lady who scammed her way into our room was able to get me to pay her! At the time, I really didn’t care what it cost or how many of my debit and credit cards I had to give her if it meant we would find an answer.

Let me pause here and just say….my husband is now doing fine now after a 3 day hospital stay and lots of medication AND tremendously wonderful care of Spartanburg Regional Medical Center. It turned out that he had the flu and pneumonia. The incoherence and inability to speak was due to his fever being almost 105. 

Later that night as he rested and I sat by his bed in the hospital, I thought about that lady. She was awesome at her job. Can you even imagine how difficult it must be to ask folks for money when they are dealing with a medical situation with their loved one?  I was stunned and really didn’t care, but I am sure there are those who don’t have the money (I’m lucky to be able to pay our deducible), there are those who are offended that the hospital wants money so quickly, and then there are those who are terribly emotional.  As my boys would say, “she got skills.”  She had a difficult job, but she handled it beautifully. She started by asking me how I was doing. She asked me all about my husband’s symptoms and then she told me how wonderful the ER staff was and gave me so much confidence in their abilities. When I told her I was just a little anxious because of the past year and the death of my Mom and the life altering illness of my father, she assured me that I had done everything right by getting my husband to the hospital and again reassured me how wonderful the hospital was. She never promised me that my husband was going to be okay. She never gave me false hope. She gave me facts after establishing a relationship.

It made me think about difficult conversations at school.  A lot of times, folks ignore these difficult conversations. No one likes controversy. No one loves to say things that may make someone feel under attack or that may be challenging. Yet, it is a part of our jobs. The simple truth is this: How we present information is just, if not more, important than what we present.  Our words are so very powerful.  Along the way, I’ve learned many tools for difficult conversations and the business office representative from the hospital taught me just a few more. First, she had a goal when coming in to the room. She needed my money. Before we meet with a parent, we need to have a goal or an outcome in mind and it isn’t about winning, it is about the child. When she first came in, she stated who she was and where she worked, but it didn’t register with me. After some initial kind talk, she stated her purpose. It was direct, it was not unkind. It was factual. She then allowed me to respond. We have to be willing to listen and hear another perspective….and really listen to understand….not waiting our turn to speak again. She listened as I rambled on and on about not having his insurance card and not knowing if I should give her my debit or my credit card. She then responded in turn and gave me great explanations. She became a problem solver for me. In difficult conversations, if we have a goal, we can always help become a problem solver for the parent. And in the end of any difficult conversation, it should conclude with an acknowledgement of what you’re going to do next. What steps are you going to do to help the person you’re talking to. Not one thing can make difficult conversation fun, BUT with skills we can always make them better.

The right line

Rosebro1 has been doing A LOT of driving lately. If we are going out to eat, he drives us around like an Uber driver. If we are going to church, he drives us. If I need to run an errand, he is my first mate. You get it…he drives everywhere. The great part of this is I have someone to run small errands for me, but the really great part is I have a partner to go with me everywhere I go (and as the mother of teenage boys, this is a new experience for me).  Last week, we had to go to the dreaded Walmart-sorry to offend anyone, but I really, truly try not to go to Walmart if possible. Part of the reason I despise going is no matter if I go at 6am on a Monday morning or 12pm on a Saturday afternoon, there are never enough cash registers open.  So, on this day, Rosebro and I found the 3 items we could only purchase at Walmart and as it would be found only a few lines were open and they were all really, really long. This is when we decided to divide and conquer.  He stood in one line and I in the other. We waited to see who would progress in the line quicker and whoever made it to the front first, the other would join them in line.  While I waited patiently, I watched the elderly cashier in charge of my line. She was so sweet and was carrying on conversations with the customers and the kids in the cart. I’ve seen her before in my early morning Walmart visits. She is so nice and friendly and kind. She once even told me that Family Dollar carried one of my items at a cheaper price.  As it would have it, Rosebro1’s line went faster so I exited my line and quickly joined him.  And we got through quickly. Yet, Rosebro1’s cashier was, well, downright rude. As a lover of Mother Earth, I always have my own bags with me. Although Rosebro 1 told her that, she put our 3 little items in a bag, and when I reiterated that I had my own bag, she rolled her eyes and rather curtly took the items out of the Walmart bag and slammed them on the lazy Susan bag area.  I ignored this. I was paying with my debit card and put it in the chip reader. The card reader which was not very steady fell down and when doing so my card fell out of reader. She watched this, again rolled her eyes, and then yelled at me when I put my card back in the reader (apparently, she needed to do something on her register before I put my card back in). I quickly finished our transaction, but couldn’t shake the experience.

Rosebro1 and I discussed this in the car. I explained that my cashier was sweet and kind and is every single time I’ve been in her line, she has always been kind. I explained that I really liked her. He countered with the fact that she was slower than the rude cashier. I couldn’t disagree with him. It made me wonder- Why can’t I have the same experience in each line no matter who is the cashier?

And as with anything I thought about school.  I guess the same can be said about our students. Should not every student experience the same level of instruction, relationship, tactical teaching, and high level of planning and reflection as every other student? Many books have been written on this subject so this really isn’t a new idea. I know that some days are better than others for each of us…and I know that each of us are at different places along our journey of teaching. Yet, one thing that should never be different is the way a student feels in our classroom. As Rita Pierson so beautifully articulated, “Everyone child deserves for one person to be their champion.”  Our kids deserve to come to school and know that they are going to get smiles, high fives, secret handshakes, big hugs,and someone so excited to see them that they might just burst. Our kids deserve us to WANT to be here because we are so excited about teaching the youth of our generation.

I would challenge; however, that this is only part of the experience. A student’s learning experience should not differ from one classroom to the next. A student should be getting the most highly thoughtful learning experience no matter which room they have been assigned to during the summer months. How can this happen?  I value three approaches. The first is a high level of collaboration. I love walking on a grade level’s hallway during planning. I do this a lot. I do this to see what type of collaboration is happening-naturally. I don’t do this on PLC days or IB reflection days, but on teacher planning days. It always saddens me to see a closed classroom door. That closed door says so much and is louder to me than the items being slammed on the Lazy Susan at the Walmart. Teachers must collaborate-not plan-but collaborate about learning and teaching. This requires honesty about struggles and being open to others’ successes.  The second approach is PLC. We use our PLC not as a chance to take away your planning, but as a way to really learn. But how can we use that hour to listen to our highly trained coach and to each other and then go back into our classroom and pull out the same lesson plans that we’ve done for many years? The third approach is accountability.  We have to be accountable to ourselves, our school, our students, and our coworkers. Accountability isn’t a “gotcha”. Accountability is a check in to ensure you’re on the right track-you’re doing the right things. When we are held accountable, we don’t mind questions, we don’t mind visitors, we don’t mind trying new things and throwing away old things. We are; however, only accountable when we know the expectations. The expectations is the “why”. Why are we doing this? Why is this important?

As we turn the page to 2018 and the 2^nd semester of school, I challenge each of you to ask yourself if you’re the best “line” to be in…not the fastest line that gets the one job done, not the line where relationships are great, but the work isn’t getting done, but the line that does it all exceptionally well. The line that we all want, the line that we all wish we could be in every single time….our kids deserve it…..but so do you….because when you’re the most effective teacher you can be, it is the most amazing feeling.  And you deserve that.