(This is the opening day speech that I shared with my staff this year)
So last year, my son Brady started playing football. Now, we have tried Brady in all sorts of team
sports in the past, soccer, baseball, gymnastics, etc. but nothing ever
stuck. And when I say that nothing ever
stuck, I am not referring to his skills within the sport. Rather, I am talking about the bond and
connection that he felt with the sport, the team and his teammates. He had never shown a real desire to go to the
next practice, never got excited about game day and was definitely not sad to
see the season end. That all changed
with football.
I have shared before the experience I had with Brady at the
end of the football season last year and how that made me feel as both his
father and an educator. Brady, on his
last day of practice last year, was filled with tears at the end of the
football season and as his father I couldn’t have been happier. I was so pleased that he had made a real
connection to both other adults in his coaches as well as to the kids on his
team. He felt truly as a part of a
community, something that had never happened outside his family or his
classroom before. It was a huge step and
I was so happy for just that.
As this football season began, I entered a little worried. It was some of the same coaches and other new ones, some of the same kids and other new ones. It was almost a year later. A year for him to forget how to play the game. A year to forget how to be a part of a team. A year to forget about being a part of a community. My worries grew when, at his first practice, he did not want to join a group of boys tossing a football around before the start of practice. He was anxious, telling me that he wasn’t sure if those kids were supposed to be doing that, that he wasn’t sure if they were Mites like him. Despite my best efforts to move him off this anxiety, and get him unstuck from his beliefs in that moment, he would not move. I started to think to myself, well last year was nice and maybe we can get back to that point by the end of the year, but we are going to have to start over…. Then the coach blew the whistle. Brady put on his helmet, ran out to join the group and joined right in on the first drill as if practices had never ended last fall.
I was blown away.
As the first two weeks of the football season progressed, I
dropped Brady off at practice, and picked him up after. I asked how practice was, got the obligatory “good”,
and asked if he was having fun… which he was.
That was enough for me at the time because I didn’t know any better,
didn’t know any more and was unconsciously limited his potential.
One day last week, I dropped Brady off and then went for a
run. After finishing my run, I decided
to go and watch some of his practice. As
I watched the last hour of his practice, I noticed that Brady spent about 45
minutes either holding a blocking pad or sitting out. I started to think about why this was the
case and started to develop theories in my head. As the practice continued, the theories honed
into a belief that this new mix of coaches was making some assumptions about a
kid with Autism and was limiting him and his participation based upon
that. The longer I thought about it…
long into that night… the more and more upset I got. It kept me up that night.
This attitude and belief system that blamed the coaches and
their ignorance of my son’s needs carried into the next day. I approached the head coach at the start of
the next practice and explained what I had seen and that, as I put it, his
mother and I didn’t want Brady to be the team mascot, that he was capable of
being coached and if they needed any help with better understanding him, I
would be happy to help. As I sat and
watched this practice I started feeling vindicated…. Like “Ha, I told them.” However, as the end of practice neared, I noticed
the same pattern occurring where Brady was sitting off to the side as the team
was practicing their plays for an upcoming scrimmage. I started to get angry again, I thought to
myself, “How could they make assumptions like this about him?” “How could they predetermine his potential
and use those predeterminations to set limits on him?” “He is 8 years old, no one knows what he is
capable of?” And then it hit me…. Like a
punch right in the chest.
I was getting mad at them, but I was blaming the wrong
person. I started to ask myself some
questions like, “What have you learned about football in order to help him be
successful?” “How many practices did you
watch last year?” “How many practices
have you watched this year?” What have
you learned about the fundamentals of football in order to help Brady practice
and develop those skills?” “What have
you thought about Brady’s potential to be a contributing member of the football
team?” “How much have you invested
getting to know something that he has shown passion about and understanding why
he is passionate about it?” “How well
have you gotten to know your own son in this area and how can you be upset with
the coaches for not investing in your son the way you want them to, when you
haven’t either?”
Woof! That was a
tough moment.
I spent the next set of practices watching closely;
listening to advice the coaches on all three teams were giving to the players
on tackling techniques, proper hand positions when blocking, proper pre-snap
stance, etc. Then I started to watch
Brady in relation to what I was learning and ask him questions that were helping me get inside his understanding. I paid close attention to how Brady was
performing against the criteria the coaches were establishing and then provided
him with direct feedback after practice and gave him techniques to use to
monitor himself during practice. The
difference in his performance was almost instantaneous.
Now this is a nice story of fatherhood, but what does this
have to do with our school and this coming year? This example from my life drove home a point for me; one that has been
swimming around in my head since last spring.
I have been thinking a lot for the past 5 to 6 months about how we as a
school can best meet the needs of our kids.
I have thought about this challenge in relation to our students’ academic
success and growth as well as their social and emotional and behavioral
growth.
Each year, we are faced with more and more complex challenges
that our students and their surrounding environments present. So how, in a sea of information, theory, best
practice and research do we determine the best way to meet the needs of the
students in front of us? I argue that
the best place to start is to just observe.
The second our students walk with the door at the beginning of the year,
we all feel a pressure to move them towards the exit. Whether it is pressure from the state, the
district, me as the principal, parents, our own internal conscientious need to support
student learning, we all feel this pressure to get to the learning. To start teaching; for if we are not teaching, we are not teachers.
I want to ask you to resist that initial urge at the beginning
of this school year. I am challenging
you all to become detectives. To learn
all that you can about your students, before you jump into teaching them. And then I ask that you keep that curious,
inquisitive, investigative attitude about your students all year. The gold standard for a detective is the
fictional character Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock is renowned for his inquisitive mind, attention to detail and analytic mind. One quote from Sherlock Holmes says, “It’s my business to know what other people don’t know.” I challenge each of you to know your students in a way that no other person knows them. Just like my experience with Brady, we need to take the time to learn before we can best teach.
Sherlock is renowned for his inquisitive mind, attention to detail and analytic mind. One quote from Sherlock Holmes says, “It’s my business to know what other people don’t know.” I challenge each of you to know your students in a way that no other person knows them. Just like my experience with Brady, we need to take the time to learn before we can best teach.
This year I want us, collectively, to better know our students. I challenge each of you to think about the
information that you normally collect on your students and consider two
things. First, how can I get to know my
students in a way that I have never done before? What can I learn about them that would help
me understand them as little people with wants, desires, hopes and dreams that
I might be able to inspire and foster in my work with them? Second, how can I better organize this new
information along with the information I normally collect so that it is helpful
to me in my decisions? What new ways
could I look at old information to better inform my work with students? How, like Sherlock Holmes, can I know what
other people don’t know?
I argue that this small emphasis on observation can and will
make a significant impact on our ability to meet the needs of our students more
effectively and more efficiently. We all
work so hard to best meet the needs of our students, but what if we are
expending our energies in the wrong direction because we didn’t take enough time
to question before jumping in? What if a
small change in the way we get to know our kids is enough to make learning
stick with some of our trickiest learners and actually make our lives easier? Can we find new ways to reach students and
inspire them that we have not yet in our careers? Can we reach students that present challenges
we have never seen before? Can we ensure
each child in our school believes this school community is interested in
knowing him or her as a person? I believe
we can and I believe we owe it to them.
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