Pass the Salt

Photo Credit:  Flickr.com

As the month of August approached, I started to think about opening day, specifically the first day for teachers.  For those of you that have followed earlier posts, you know that this school year signified a new beginning for me as I started a new year as principal of a new school.  You may also know that our district is undergoing some significant transitions over the next few years.

As I began to prepare my opening day remarks, I found myself thinking a lot about what the staff must be feeling about all the changes that were happening and going to happen.  Here they are with a new principal and assistant principal who are bringing with them a new schedule as the school transitions from being one of three K-8 schools in the district to one of three K-6 schools.  If that was not enough, they know that the school will only remain a K-6 for one year and then it becomes a PreK-2 school for the entire district.

As I began to explore the feelings of uncertainty, loss, anxiety and fear that are likely to be present among the faculty, I found myself reflecting on a moment from my own childhood.

I grew up in Orleans, MA which is a small town located on Cape Cod.  My parents' home was part of a collection of properties owned by members of my father's family.  These properties were located down a small dirt road and they "fell off" from the main dirt road in a series of tiered sections that decreased in elevation down towards a swamp at the far end.  It was a great place for a young boy to grow up.

The infamous driveway

Heading down to my parents' home was one small spit of asphalt driveway coming down a fairly steep hill.  In the winter, the road was not plowed and this hill was always a combination of packed snow and ice.  My parents developed a very sophisticated (heavy sarcasm) approach for getting up the hill.  They would back into my grandparents' driveway, which was the furthest from the base of the hill, and build up as much speed and momentum as they could in attempt to climb the hill.  Sometimes they made it, sometimes they did not and they had to back down the hill and try again.

One wintry morning when I was about 8 we were headed off to who knows where.  My mom was driving the car and my two brothers and I were seated in the bench seat in the back of my mom's station wagon.  These were in the days before mandatory seat belts and car seats, so we were just along for the ride.

On the first attempt my mom was not able to make it to the top of the hill, so she began backing down.  Backing down a snow-packed hill in a boat on wheels with three rambunctious boys in the back seat applying the correct amount of brake pressure is no small task.  About half-way down the hill, the brakes on the car locked and we began to slide.  It is hard to see in the picture above, but on the right hand side of the driveway there is a steep hill that goes up to where my cousins lived.  As we slid backwards down the hill, the car went up that hill with enough force to push the car up on two wheels.

Here I was eight years old, sitting in the left hand side of the car watching the right hand side (and my two brothers) raise up into the air above me.  I remember it feeling like it was happening in slow motion, and as it was feelings of fear, anxiety and panic welled up in me... OH MY GOD THE CAR IS GOING TO FLIP OVER.  Just as I was about to scream out, my mother, as if asking someone to pass the salt, said, "I guess we are going over."  In that one moment, I went from panic to calm.  I remember thinking, "well if she is not that worried about it, I guess this is not going to be that bad."

The car paused in mid air, for what seemed like half a day, before gravity took hold and the car began to head back in the other direction and landed back on all four tires.  Without missing a beat, my mom continued to back the car down the hill into my grandparents driveway and went right back up the hill.  This time we made it to the top and were off to whatever the rest of the day held for us.  There was no discussion of the event, she just moved forward.

Photo Credit: Flickr.com

As I reflect back on this event, I find myself thinking about it from a different perspective.  Now as a parent, I find myself wondering what my mom must have been thinking in that moment.  Here she was with her three babies in the back seat of a car that was about to flip over; talk about being filled with fear, anxiety and feeling powerless to control something that could harm something so important to her.  However, she never let that show.  I think about what affect my mother had on me in that moment.  Her calm created my calm. She also showed me that failures don't define us.  She did not let her fear define her, nor stop her from trying again.  Instead she went right back up that hill.

As we, as a school, look to the year ahead it is important that we have an open and honest dialogue about our concerns and feelings surrounding the changes coming; however, it is important that we have these conversations among ourselves.  It is important that whatever we are feeling as adults, we are projecting calm, confidence and a positive outlook to our students and community.  THE STUDENTS AND PARENTS WILL LOOK TO US TO SEE HOW THEY SHOULD BE FEELING ABOUT THIS.  We have a significant power to effect the way our community will approach this change, and as Voltaire said (or if you are a Spiderman fan) "With great power comes great responsibility"  We have a responsibility to ensure a smooth transition for the sake of our students.  

As a leader, I know that this begins with me.  The faculty, students and parents need to know that they can count on me to remain calm, confident and positive through this next year.  They need to know that when things are moving quickly, tensions are high and questions dramatically outnumber answers that I will continue to approach our conversations as if only asking to pass the salt.

As we opened school this year, I asked my staff that when they are in their classrooms, feeling like it is all too much, that their car is about to roll over on its roof, I asked them to take a deep breath and make sure they are only asking their students to "pass the salt".  And that once the fear and anxiety have subsided, that they head back up that hill.