This was the beginning of my long, philosophical examination of the profession that accepted me as a lost and lonely scholar. Although I admired and respected my teachers, I did not want to be one of them. I didn’t think that what they did was all that interesting. I admired the depth of their knowledge, their wisdom and insightfulness. I loved the way they could think about things, make connections, synthesize information, and reach conclusions.  As teachers, they filled my head with information, which I assumed was the path to enlightenment: once I was full, I would be able to do all the things that I admired in them. As you might expect–and what I had feared–was I became a clone of my teachers.

At the risk of alienating everyone who was my teacher, I can honestly say that I did not have a lot of innovator instructors. In fact, I remember a terrifying moment in my graduate school career when suddenly I was expected to teach my first class. I had lots of seminars in literature, a methods class in how to become an academic and a methods class in “being a professor” which had little to do with being in a classroom and lot to do with research on the teaching profession. Armed with absolutely no practical guidance I tried to disguise my panic and casually inquired of my dissertation director, “What do I do?” Equally calmly he looked at me and asked, “Have you ever had any good teachers?” Of course, I replied. “Do what they did,” was his advice. For me, it seemed to be my destiny to become the kind of teacher my teachers were.

Having bypassed the school of education as an undergrad, I received even less training–if that is possible–as a graduate student. So if schools of ed–which have come under a lot of fire for their inability to train innovative instructors–and graduate schools fail to produce innovative teachers, where do they come from? I became an innovative teacher because I tried to answer the questions I was being asked by my mentor. He accepted me as the clone I was and supported me in my efforts in the classroom. In reality, I was no different–better or worse–than colleagues older or younger. I blended in perfectly. Yet his keen observations and penetrating questions forced me into deep and honest reflection on what I was doing and why.

Unable to completely break out of the box I was in and unable to answer the questions that challenged my assumptions about learning, I asked my mentor–my principal and a fellow instructor–if I could sit in and observe his class. I saw in action the answer to my questions and the depictions of what good teaching looks like. I suddenly understood that my answer to his repeated question: who is the hardest working person in your classroom was not something to be proud of. It was at the heart of how I could improve as a teacher.

My mentor was not the hardest working person in his classroom. I think I learned, over time, that he was probably the least prepared person in the room, class after class. I asked him, after 20 years of teaching Hamlet, did he ever tire of re-reading it as he prepared for class. He looked at me and said, I never re-read Hamlet to prepare for class. It puts too many answers in my head. I want the students to discover the answers on their own. The more I prepare, the more I tend to lead them where I want to go. That one response has done more to guide my thinking about teaching than all of the literature I have read about education. I return to that question over and over as I think about what it takes to be a good teacher.

The secret society I mentioned at the end of part I is really just my way of acknowledging the colleagues and mentors I have worked with over the years who have quietly and somewhat effectively  practiced and advocated for change through the mentoring process I experienced and described above. In a nutshell, I have come to embrace  Socratic teaching, critical thinking and questioning. I have had the privilege of working with so many great teaching minds that I have been able to formulate my own questions and apply them to my teaching staff as I work with teachers. Teachers cannot be changed, nor would I want to change them. But asking powerful questions that force them to look at what they are doing and to reflect on their effectiveness is what can be done. Ironically, in my own experience, the best teachers are usually the ones who actually think about the questions and are willing to reflect on what they do. The teachers who are most effective in the classroom are always the ones who end up changing. Their capacity for honest self-reflection and thought is what makes them effective teachers in the first-place, so it should be no surprise that quality feedback helps them to make changes and improve.

What I would like to see changed in schools for the 21st century:

• No grades
• The teaching of critical thinking–do away with individual disciplines and teach students how to think like scientists, historians, writers, and mathematicians.
• Second language immersion in the elementary grades (although I am focusing on high school, I needed to put that in as part of my core philosophy)
• Project based learning and authentic assessments
• The integration of all forms of technology so that students use the tools that are used in the world

Once again, I must apologize for my lack of profundity: nothing incredibly insightful or original in those ideas. So if these are commonplace ideas, backed by research, why are most schools still laboring in the Industrial Age?

Since colleges are beginning to drop SATs, and if we want to help bury the abomination know as Advanced Placement, we can meet colleges half way and eliminate grades. The implications are staggering. One only needs to read Alfie Kohn’s well-researched critique of grades to understand how they poison everything in education. The single educational reform of eliminating grades would have such wide-ranging effects that I would almost be willing to drop my other considerations. I say that because I feel that so many progressive ideas would flow into the void created by the elimination of grades that there would be no need to advocate for the other ideas.

The teaching of critical thinking as a subject goes hand in hand with the idea that we eliminate the need for disciplines. I know this concept baffles all educators except elementary teachers who have long understood the importance of integrating subject matter and teaching kids how to think. Students need to be precise and clear thinkers. There is so much in the world to think about, but if all you do is memorize facts for a test, what is the point? Learning how to think like a biologist enables students to understand the world as biologists understand it. They can then tackle projects individually and collaboratively which will sharpen their thinking skills as well as deepen their understanding of science and the natural world.

When my wife and I decided to venture into the world of international education, we were both asked to write essays articulating our educational philosophies. My wife left her job as a university professor to start our family and then, much to the dismay of her female colleagues, chose to stay home with our son rather than putting him in day care. We thought it would be a wash financially given the cost of childcare, but realistically it was a huge financial burden to us. Due to health issues, we simultaneously learned that he would be our only child, so her decision to stay home became even more meaningful for both of us.

My wife, who earned a PhD in literature, taught college, and currently teaches high school, has been either an educator or a mom her entire adult life. What she learned as a mom reinforced everything she was learning as a teacher, so writing that essay was easy for her. She explained her philosophy in very simple terms. She had the opportunity to interact every day with our son until he needed to be institutionalized (kindergarten). He learned how to eat, breathe, and crawl. He learned how to talk, walk, and read. He could memorize things, make things, distinguish things, and make choices. His learning—as is true for the learning of all children—was astonishing. My wife did not break his learning down into discrete subject areas.  His learning was naturally integrated and he learned by doing. When he tried to walk, he fell down. He picked himself up and tried again. My wife coached him throughout his childhood, but the learning was integrated, hands-on, and independent. There were no worksheets, no tests (tonight, right after dinner, expect a test on fine motor control before bed; it’s your midterm you know!) and no pop quizzes. Her philosophy of education was simply to describe the learning she had experienced in the raising of our son.

We both realized–she as a mom and I as a coach–that the child needed to be at the center of the learning and the doing. The worst tech instruction is when the impatient techie starts moving the mouse and clicking on the solutions. Problem solved but nothing learned. We learned to be effective teachers because my wife couldn’t walk for our son and I couldn’t shoot the free throws for my players. We could give feedback, model, encourage, and provide opportunities for safe practice, but we could not do. As teachers though, too often we want to do or tell or solve or explain without giving students the opportunity to try and fail.

But as has been my experience most of that kind of learning stops in junior high/high school, and that was certainly the case with our son. I have never been an elementary educator, but I definitely see a more progressive model of educating in the younger grades. When students reach the stage where they need to be graded we temporarily abandon all the models of learning that life has successfully equipped us with, we blindly abandon our reasoning and accept this bizarre model of teaching and assessing without question, and then jump back into the real world, never to return to the world known as school. Who decided that? Why can’t we break this addiction? Why must graduation from institutions be such a liberating experience rather than just another milestone? The transition back to collaborative learning, problem solving and critical thinking is, I assume fairly easy and natural. I never hear anyone in the world outside of school complain, gosh I wish our CEO would give us a lecture today on profit-sharing. And in the office, how long would the company tolerate the guy who never does his share of the group project. If you haven’t heard of the Marshmallow Challenge, check out this analysis of the experiment from Ted Talks

http://on.ted.com/8HBQ

I’m not sure exactly how that is relevant but I love how kindergarten grads perform better than business school grads.

We are institutional school junkies and I have been around so many addicts that I feel like I’ve had a career in a methadone clinic. At one school where grades were not part of the program through 4^th grade, the school made the bold and unpopular decision to extend the no grading policy through 5^th grade. Parents were told at 5^th grade back to school night by one veteran teacher: Don’t worry, we are not allowed to give grades, but I have a grade book and every move they make will be graded. If you want to know your child’s grade, you just ask! The junkies collectively sighed their relief.

I have nothing new to add to the grade debate except to say that as a high school principal I hold grades responsible for most of the cheating and plagiarism that exists in my school. I am working hard to change that culture, but it is not easy. The rest of my ideas fall naturally into place. Schools should be filled with communities of learners working together collaboratively to understand and explore the world. Technology that is used in place of old technology or ineffective ways of teaching dolled up with technology: lcd projectors instead of overheads, PowerPoint lectures instead of slide show lectures, etc. is not what I think of when I think of the integrated classroom. Technology is a tool and if learning is about critical thinking and creative problem solving, then kids should have the tools that are used to create, investigate, research, invent, synthesize and explore.

Often I sense I am preaching to the choir, but it is always comforting to know there are like-minded educators who are doing much more than I am to improve education. I am happy to learn from them, support them, and share their ideas. I am proud to be included in your numbers and hope that my thoughts inspire you to keep up the good fight.

Although there is no area of education or educational practice that has not been studied and scrutinized, and although there is a wealth of research to support change, most schools do little from year to year except update the handbook and change an elective or two. Schools roughly follow the same calendar from year to year:  mid to late August to early June. The core subjects are the same, the requirements the same, and the grade reporting the same.  After spending a few days examining the basics and essentials of most schools, one could safely conclude that school does not much resemble the real world.

In the real world, information is integrated. In schools, each subject is taught as a discrete and independent discipline. In the real world, teams of employees collaborate on projects and work together to solve problems. In schools, we call that cheating. In the real world, you are able to use all available resources to find answers, solve problems, and be creative. In schools you are expected to memorize isolated facts and then are evaluated based on your ability to recall those facts. The list goes on.

These are not new or insightful observations, and they are also gross generalizations. Obviously, some progress and change has occurred. Nevertheless, even in an independent, highly-respected college prep school such as CDS one cannot find evidence for the kinds of systemic changes that identify a school as progressive. CDS has put itself on the map as an innovative school to be sure. I don’t think there are any schools in AASCA that can say teachers at every grade level, preK to 12, have teachers using technology in the classroom. CDS is the only one.But the kind of change I am talking about is revolutionary, systemic change that acknowledges the need to educate students for college and careers in the 21st century.

There is ample research and evidence that we should change, not because we should imitate the real world, but because our current practices have very little to do with how children and adults learn and a lot to do with tradition. We are not adequately preparing our students for the 21st century. We are preparing them to do well on the SAT, an instrument of measuring student readiness for college that has proven to be flawed and ineffective. Yet, the SAT is a billion dollar industry that depends upon the efficacy of standardized testing. The SAT is not afraid to change. In fact they recognize that their days are numbered and each year they frantically tweak and alter and even overhaul the tests and procedures in order to appear relevant. Meanwhile, colleges are slowly moving away from the SAT’s, and gradually acknowledging that it unfairly benefits a small group of applicants. But until it is discredited and abandoned by colleges completely, high schools will continue to pretend that standardized test scores keep them from real, genuine, systemic innovation and change. But I pity the school that waits until that day comes because they will be so significantly behind the educational curve that I fear the number of changes they will need to make will cause that school to implode.

It is ironic that schools, places of learning and places where we supposedly teach kids to think critically, evaluate evidence and synthesize information in order to made thoughtful and educated choices, cannot apply itself to a problem that will ultimately determine its survival. We are so comfortable with how we currently do things that we blind ourselves to all of the contradictory evidence and summon our own evidence to support our unwillingness to change: we’ve always done it this way; I learned it this way; we have always taught this way and our kids get into the best colleges; the AP scores and SAT scores are proof enough that we are doing it right. If we rely on anecdotal evidence to support our unwillingness to change we are doomed to failure.

To understand how deeply committed we are to not changing, look at it from every point of view: the principal doesn’t want change because he doesn’t want to answer the questions or face the challenges of anxious parents, especially of the high achievers. The highest achievers at a school have the most invested in the current system. They will get the requisite test scores and grades to get into college. Ironically, even if change does occur–and the high achievers will definitely lead the fight against change–the highest achievers will always be recognized and always be rewarded. Their fears are irrational, but in their narrowness they recognize the advantages of the status quo. The current system reassures them of their place in the hierarchy and serves as their ticket to the competitive colleges. Even though, in the long run, those stakeholders will not be affected, there is no way to prove that and reassure them when the changes are first implemented. The parents and students must trust the administrator. It is a battle the principal must be supremely confident about. He must believe that the delivery of the changes, through his teachers, will be effective, and he must believe that those above him completely support him as they move forward. Those uncertainties make cowards out of most principals.

Unless they are teachers themselves, the parents only know the way things have always been done. Almost every parent has a reason to be suspicious of change. As I said above, if their child is a high achiever, the current system clearly works for them. Why change it? If their child is in the middle, they probably recognize that much of their child’s successes and failures has as much to do with the system as it does with actual learning. And change means they have to learn a new system! Very risky. What they don’t realize is real change is not about the institution and its rules, it’s about authentic learning and authentic ways of knowing and assessing. Progressive change in education is an acknowledgment of the current needs of the society and culture and an attempt to stay current. No profession can boast the kind of resistance to real change that education can boast. Can you imagine if medicine decided that change in medical practices was anathema to the profession? And finally, the low achieving student would seem to have little at stake in whether the system is changed or not, and might actually embrace the change. But what self-respecting principal or educator is going to advertise the parental support of the “bottom third” as reasons for accepting change? As much as the low achieving students might embrace change or benefit from change, the rest of the parents are not interested in how school-wide systemic change is going to benefit the lowest achievers in the school.

Teachers mostly fear change because it means a lot of work combined with the uncertainty of risk, and the potential for failure. These all go hand in hand. Do not isolate these fears and unfairly brand teachers, even though they are equally culpable in this resistance. Teachers are very diligent and do not fear working hard. In fact they work as hard if not harder than most professionals. They get chided for getting summers off, but not many professionals take home the amount of work teachers do and are also expected to contribute beyond what they were trained to do by coaching sports, advising and coaching academic teams, teaching electives, and so forth. Can you imagine being hired to work in a bank and then being told, oh, and by the way, we expect you to coach our co-ed softball team. Practices are 5 times per week (after work) and our games are on Saturdays. Mostly teachers resist change because they know how much work it takes to do what they currently do. They also know how much preparation and time it took to get to where they are. Change requires they learn new ways of doing things. It means spending the same or more time re-learning how to do what they feel they already do really well (which is why the blinders go on). What teachers don’t want to acknowledge is what they do well is run kids through a system that benefits a few and handicaps others. But once again, the irony can only make us shake our heads.

And believe it or not, students resist change. Kids know or learn very quickly that schools are institutions and that they have predictable patterns and ways of doing things. Like all systems, they can be learned, mastered, manipulated, and gotten around. Some students are excellent at memorizing and regurgitating. Some kids have mastered the art of school. Others know how to get by or get around in order to survive or excel. So change for them is as challenging as it is for teachers.

In part II of this piece I will examine a secret cult I belong to called the Progressive Order of Principals (not a real organization, so don’t bother Googling it or wondering why there is no hyperlink), and I will discuss some changes that schools should embrace in the next few years.

And yet, putting a label on this class does not do them justice. Obviously they consist of unique individuals who, when examined on their own merits, remind us that each label is either misleading or simply wrong in terms of describing the individual members of this class. I did not know these students before I arrived in the high school. In fact, it is fair to say that I know the juniors, sophomores and freshmen much better than I know the seniors having worked with the former in the middle school. But I can honestly say that I have grown very fond of these students and have developed relationships with them that I will cherish and remember.

Occasionally there are events or decisions that strain those bonds or challenge those relationships. Recently I had to shut down the senior lounge and I took no pleasure in doing so. I also even feel a bit reluctant to share this information with you because, in many ways, I consider it a private matter–between me and the seniors. However, I know it will be a very public issue and has already become a topic of discussion so I will share my thoughts.

I don’t know the history of the lounge but I can honestly say I have been uncomfortable with its existence since I arrived in high school. It is not that I do not trust the seniors, but it is  an issue of concern for many reasons. The lounge is very private–part of its point, I suppose–and it is difficult for me to walk by and know what is going on. As the principal, I must know what is going on at all times, and not being able to simply look and know makes me uneasy. I have to go out of my way to see if everyone is behaving and following the rules. However,  it also means I cannot know at a glance if everyone is safe. If something happened to a student who was alone in the lounge, I might not discover it for a long time.

I understand the seniors’ desire for a place of their own. I don’t agree that it should be a private place, but I understand the territoriality of groups. The senior lounge went beyond marking a special territory for the seniors. It gave them a private place and definitely elevated their position in the high school as a social group. At the same time, it posed a major inconvenience for me and my responsibility as their guardian. Nevertheless, I inherited the situation and I lived with it.

The seniors probably don’t realize that having their own place in a school with very limited space is incredibly fortunate. I currently do not have a dedicated classroom for every single teacher. We do not have a middle school library. We have one soccer field and one gym that the entire school must share. Despite these limitations we find ways to make it work and we thrive. Our student numbers have increased over the years and we have learned to adjust. I would like to think that we make full use of our facilities and take nothing for granted.

The seniors probably believe the reason for the closure hinges upon a single act of vandalism. I make that assumption because one very responsible individual cleaned up the mess after I closed the lounge and asked if it could be re-opened. As much as I appreciated the effort of this individual, I did not shut the lounge because of one act of vandalism. The graffiti was definitely the catalyst for the closing, but it was simply the last act of many that forced me to make the decision. And I do not blame this on the class of 2010. The acts of vandalism that forced me to close the lounge have gone on for several years without consequences.

The privilege of having a special place comes with responsibility. Over the years, many seniors chose to treat the space with less and less respect. Instead of doing everything they could to guarantee their right and the rights of future seniors to keep this privilege, individuals from each class chose to see how far they could go to challenge and disrupt that privilege. The vandalism would start from day one, escalate throughout the year and culminate in a final act that seemed to have to outdo the previous year. Rather than passing the torch to the next class the goal became to make the place as unwelcoming as possible to the new group. In other words, rather than taking pride in the privilege and passing it to the next group, the idea seemed to be: now that we are leaving we are going to destroy the decency of the place and make the next group suffer if they want to use it.

I know that all the seniors did not participate in vandalizing the lounge and school property. I also know that not all the seniors participated in cleaning and restoring the lounge after the damage done by the previous class. A group of seniors took charge of that task and the others simply benefited from it. I also know that many seniors chose to look the other way as their colleagues committed acts of vandalism, played music louder than was acceptable, and played music during class. I am not sure how many of them gradually joined in on the destruction as these acts grew in boldness and severity with seemingly no consequences to the perpetrators.

I spoke to the seniors at the beginning of the year about the group responsibility necessary to maintaining the privilege of the lounge. I warned them that if they did not police themselves the lounge would be closed. I allowed them many chances throughout the year, yet they continued the same pattern as in previous years. I have no animosity or hard feelings toward the seniors and I would hope the feeling is mutual. However, school is a place for learning.  Although many felt that they were entitled to destroy furniture because they purchased it, gradually that attitude was extended to school property. Although it is technically true that much of the furniture was purchased with class funds, I began to wonder what message we were sending: It is OK to raise money through school-sponsored activities in order to purchase furniture that you can destroy. I felt that what each class was learning was that it was OK to treat school property in a disrespectful manner because it was part of tradition.  This last act of disrespect crossed a line in my mind and despite threats that the lounge would be closed, no one addressed it, no one took responsibility, and no one seemed to care–until it was too late.

One of the main lessons we should be teaching our children is how to live in a democracy. We have individual freedoms and rights, but both children and adults seem to lose their way when faced with the acts of cowards. One coward ruins it for everyone else, yet we are reluctant to chastise or punish or disapprove of the actions of that one. But we shout loudly and collectively about how unfair we are being treated because of the actions of that one we are willing to hide and protect. I am not asking for a scapegoat or for the group to turn over any vandals. However, if the group valued its privilege it would have acted responsibly and solved this problem. There was never any reason for the adults to be involved.

If we truly value the rights and privileges that we have earned, then we must learn how to protect those rights and privileges rather than take them for granted. I view this incident as I view all events: as a teachable moment. I am open to discussion if students want to talk about how to preserve and maintain their rights and privileges. I am not going to change my decision, but I think a lot can be learned and we can avoid feelings of unfairness in the future if we learn how to be proactive and if we learn how to live as active and caring citizens in a democracy. But I have no interest in discussions that serve only to advance selfish causes.

I continue to admire and respect the class of 2010. I look forward to finishing the year strong and I hope we can maintain a healthy and respectful relationship. As I have told them many times, I am proud of their leadership, their accomplishments, and their individual glories. They have much to learn about privilege and responsibility and I know that they will learn from this. They are a proud, thoughtful, and intelligent group of seniors. It has been my privilege to work for them.

I just returned from the AASCA soccer tournament in Panama. The host schools, International School of Panama (ISP) and Balboa Academy, rolled out the red carpet for us and all the competing “small” schools in Central America. They hosted a flawless event. The organization was well-thought out, the support staff was everywhere and always willing to help, the transportation was on time and accommodating, the referees withstood the heat of the Panamanian sun and the passions of players and coaches, and the parents sold the kind of food that student athletes love to fuel up on. The smell of barbecued meats wafted through the playing areas when the occasional breeze decided a break was needed from the wilting heat. The water was icy cold and plentiful, and we left the pitch with one team proclaimed champion and the other runner-up. It was a successful tournament from the point of view of the host schools, and it was a successful tournament from the vantage point of this principal and number one fan of CDS. Go Panthers.

In reflecting on our trip I thought a lot about our successes, our challenges, and our representation at an International event. One type of success has to do with competition. Both our boys team and our girls team were successful because they competed to the best of their abilities. The evidence was in the cuts, scrapes, bumps, bruises, injuries, soreness, fatigue, sweat, and tears. Not one athlete walked away from any match unchanged. Everyone felt drained either physically, emotionally or both. I remembered the words of my favorite coach who always said, if you train hard, give every practice your best effort, prepare yourself to the best of your ability, and then compete to the best of your ability, you will get what you deserve. He never said we would win, we would be the champs, only that we would get what we deserved.

After many years of contemplation and reflection I totally understand what coach meant, but when I say to other people they are sometimes confused. After a painful loss to a bitter arch-rival, I was feeling particularly angry at my teammates and the referees and at my coach for saying we “deserved” to lose. He didn’t actually say we “deserved” to lose, but look at his statement. We had trained hard, we played to the best of our ability, and yet we lost the game. But coach was right; we got what we deserved. We were rewarded with a high level of skilled play that resulted in great athletic accomplishment and achievement. No, we did not win the match, but the other team had trained equally hard and gave it their all and they were equally rewarded. There are many things that happen in games that players cannot control. What they can control are their own actions, attitudes, and efforts. They can give up or get discouraged when a referee makes an incorrect decision or call, when the ball bounces a funny way or when the less than perfect playing field throws some object in their way rather than at the other team.  We take control of our preparation, our training, and our efforts and we take advantage of our opportunities. The results–the win or the loss–is what it is, but if we take care of what we can control, we will get what we deserve.

Only our student athletes know if they truly got what they deserved. Only they know if they trained properly, worked hard, and gave their best effort. It appeared to this observer that they did, and the fact that they left Panama with many good memories and a couple of trophies suggested that everyone did his or her best. The biggest challenge that I see for high school athletes is that of balance. How do you train sufficiently, prepare for high-level competition, and pursue your scholastic and academic goals a the same time. The professional athletes who are often their heroes, train exclusively for their sport. But high school athletes often find themselves also competing for grades, for academic recognition, for awards and honors that will then translate into acceptances at the selective colleges and universities. It is an unfortunate comparison because the two worlds (athletic and scholastic) often have different rules and actually work in very different ways. So even though we say the lessons learned on the field translate in the classroom, that is only true in certain circumstances.

The differences are subtle but very real in my mind. I think that academics lags behind athletics in many ways. I can coach an athlete to do his best, and if he is not the champion in the end, he can walk away feeling proud at his effort and accomplishment. But I’m not sure we have convinced students that learning, in and of itself, is a worthwhile pursuit. I’m not sure a student sees much benefit in working hard at school if it doesn’t mean acceptance into a top tier college and the eventual reward of a well-paid job. I know there are some athletes who only want wins and championships. But there are numerous statistics that support the notion that winning is not, as they say, everything. In many parent meetings before the start of the season I used to present handouts to the parents with data that listed the top 15 reasons high school kids competed in sports: winning or championships was never in the top 5.

So what poisons academics for kids? I think it is grades. I think we emphasize the equivalent of winning at so many levels that kids are always feeling that they are in competition and that the only goal is to win. Win the A, win the participation points, ace the test, win the gold star, win the teacher’s approval, and so on.

All of my career I have been a coach and a teacher and I have always compared my teaching to coaching and my coaching to teaching. I have tried, as a teacher, not to use grades as the incentive, but I have never devalued their importance because it is the only system kids know. It is not a system that is going to go away, so it is unfair for me, as the adult, to say “grades don’t matter.” Kids know better. They do matter, and so I respect that.

It was nice for the boys to win that soccer championship. Glenda Pearson, who has been at CDS for a long time, told me that the boys had never won a soccer championship in her tenure at CDS. You cannot tell me that kids would continue to play soccer if it was only about the championship. But how many kids would still be studying at CDS if we never gave out any A’s?

Finally, I feel incredibly lucky to have participated in an international event. In the past, as a coach, I have participated in state championships. We have held tournaments or participated in tournaments with schools from other states. I am not sure if our kids truly understand the uniqueness of an international sporting event. It is certainly a matter of great pride to represent one’s school, or even one’s city or state at a competition in the United States, but rarely does a student get to represent his country. Our athletes do it three times a year at AASCA. They represent not just CDS but Costa Rica. And not all of our athletes are Costa Rican. We have Canadians, Hondurans, Dutch, US and others competing for a Costa Rican team. And when we won, songs of victory were intermingled with songs about victorious “Ticos.”

I am an often a quiet spectator and observer at these events which leads others to question whether I am enjoying myself. I had a thoroughly enjoyable weekend. I loved every moment of it. But it takes a lot of time and energy for me to observe and absorb, so I apologize if I seemed too quiet or introspective. But I was mostly proud of our kids. Not for winning–though that was special in its own way–but for the way the teams behaved, represented their school and represented their “country.”

For me, the first week in February is when I got married and little did I know when I married that I was setting a trap for myself. My wife and I were both professors at the University of Hawaii at the time–where we had met–and as we talked about the logistics of deciding where in the states we would marry: she was from Texas, I was from Michigan; she had family in Washington, DC, I had family in Ohio; no decision was made. Instead, one Saturday morning, we made our way down to the courthouse with a couple of friends from the University, quietly said our vows in front of the judge, returned to our apartment and called our families to tell them the news.

We celebrated our first anniversary worrying whether or not we could find day care for our first child, due to come into the world in one month.  One year later we would celebrate our last anniversary together where it was the most important event of the week. Three months later I accepted a job at Punahou School, and from then on our anniversary always took back seat to some other major event. Punahou Carnival, one of the biggest fundraisers and all-consuming events I have ever been a part of, was always the first weekend in February.  No matter how important our anniversary was to us, we suddenly found ourselves caught up in an event that became–as it was for thousands of others–one of the biggest celebrations of the year. It was clearly an event far surpassing our anniversary and as members of this community we embraced it as did everyone connected to the Punahou family.

Suffice to say that even after we left Punahou our anniversary has had to compete with teacher recruitment (starts the first week in February) and the Super Bowl (recently, the first Sunday in February).  But those events are only the beginning for this busiest of months.  Every year at least two major AASCA events seem to be scheduled each February; the Fun Run is in February; and at least one outdoor education trip was in February, and the list goes on.

For me, the metaphor of March Madness, a metaphoric description of the frenetic energy associated with college basketball and the NCAA tournament reminds us that the cliches of March seem to have something in common, and it has little to do with weather or basketball. For me, March is the month of metaphoric violence, so madness has always seemed an apt descriptor to me.  The last violent storms of the year whip up at the end of February almost as if Nature is trying to remind us to be grateful for spring. No matter where spring falls on the calendar, March is its violent predecesor. The thaws begin, the floods, the winds, the rains. The ugly dirty snows of the cities, the white and aesthetically picturesque snows of the country fade from sight. The limbs that have survived sprout buds like adolescent faces sporting pimples. As we are reminded from our own experiences of bringing children in to the world, birth–the central motif of spring–is the most violent albeit miraculous event of the spring.

Fortunately we do not live day to day in the metaphoric world of March. Instead, the days of March and its attending madness will bring us the following: a visit from our new director, Mr. Greg MacGilpin, and his family (March 3-5); a professional development half day (March 3); the soccer championships (AASCA soccer, boys and girls, March 10-14 in Panama);  the MS Choir Festival (March 17-21 at CDS); and the end of the third quarter (March 26). There will also be two college fairs, one for Canadian colleges and one for Catholic colleges; as well as a college night for juniors.

Although I don’t quite know what to do with the lamb metaphor and how all this wraps up and heads into April, I do hope we can all cope with the changes that March brings and that we find in April some solace. Let’s hope it is not, “the cruelest month” as T.S. Eliot has described it. Let’s hope it is the most restful month.

Point of view is also interesting when we reflect on our own experiences. I look back on the journey I have taken and realize there are many ways to interpret where I’ve been, the decisions I’ve made, and how I have arrived where I am. For example, I have always thought of myself as someone who makes a lot of metaphorical wrong turns. I am notorious in real life for getting lost. I have come to accept the fact that no matter how hard I try to orient myself to my surroundings I will always make at least one wrong turn. My wife says I’m getting better, but the amount of effort I must put in to such a mundane activity often wears me out. Nevertheless, I have given a lot of thought to this convergence of metaphor and reality and I have tried to reconcile and understand this curious phenomenon about my life.

Here is what I have concluded.  I have been been…metaphorically speaking…lost. Now before you shudder or tsk tsk or shake your head, remember that this is a piece about point of view, and I’m not lost in the sense of despairing and unable to reach my goal. I think of my being lost more this way: the end of the journey is the same for all of us, and each of us arrives at that destination in different ways. I will get there, same as everyone, but it won’t be the easiest, most traditional, or even the best way of arriving, if there is such a thing.

Ok, that’s broad and general enough to make everyone feel good, so let me clarify, refine, and elaborate: the various paths through life are not exactly prescribed, but most people assume that there are tried and true paths, the traditional roads to the end, and most of us are directed, prodded, and pushed along those particular paths.  Some of us have more signposts pointing in the “right” direction than others: parents, teachers, counselors, elders, relatives, etc. Many of them have trudged the path, they know the way, and they encourage that we not stray or deviate down unknown roads.

You probably think I’m now going to tell you “I have taken the road less traveled and that has made all the difference.” Not exactly. I think, instead, that I have taken many roads less traveled by mistake. I don’t regret those turns, and I’m actually pretty sure that what was once accidental in my life has now become a pattern of almost deliberate and intentional “lostness.” I haven’t quite developed an instinct as most do for the right road, but at this point in my life I am pretty sure that I am deliberately choosing the wrong paths, but I’m ok with that. I’m not an adventure seeker or an iconoclast who has to do it his own way. I’m just very suspicious and not convinced that the path others have taken is always the path I want to be on. That may sound iconoclastic and individual, but it comes with a lot of hand-wringing and self doubt–not exactly the traits of a trail-blazer.

This past Saturday my mom’s sister and roommate died. I was closer to my aunt than to my own mother because she was one of those signposts in my life. My parents were not very good at pointing the way in life. They were not even very good role models, but they were the only parents I had. So many of the choices and decisions I made growing up were mostly guesses, based on the logic and reasoning of a fairly solitary adolescent mind, and often they were not the same choices and decisions my friends were making. I had a lot of “bad ” friends growing up in the city of Detroit, so my going my own way kept me out of trouble. But I also didn’t trust the decisions my “good” friends made because they didn’t seem right for me. I would choose a path, realize it was “different,” experience a brief moment of self-loathing and regret, and then gradually embrace the decision and see what the path had to offer.

My aunt wanted desperately for me to be rich and successful. Although not Jewish herself, she married a Jewish man and became a stereotypical Jewish mother to her only son, my cousin, and to me, her quasi-adopted son. My cousin went through normal rebellions but eventually ended up on the right path, whereas I was deliberately seeking out my aunt’s advice and then deliberately choosing a different way. I loved my aunt dearly and she provided everything I felt my own parents were supposed to give but couldn’t. Yet, some strange urge or desire prompted me in different directions. Despite the disappointments, she never stopped loving me and she never hesitated to show me the right path to take.

My point of view tells me I have something of the contrarian deeply embedded in my soul. My mother’s point of view is that I’m stubborn and enjoy being different just to make people mad. My aunt’s point of view was that I had some passion she couldn’t identify or understand and it was her job to try to protect me from it because it would just lead to unhappiness. Well, rest in peace Aunt Elsie and please understand that I am still wandering, still taking the wrong paths, and still enjoying every minute of the journey. It’s different but it’s not bad and it doesn’t lead to unhappiness. It really is ok, but thank you for always pointing the way.

My answer is: none of the above.

I do know what your teachers want, so in that sense I have the perfect thank you gift. Respect. Requires no money, no gift wrapping, no baking, and you don’t even have to write a note. All you have to do is keep one little thing in mind: I am not the only person in the school, in my class, or in this room who matters. I may have been accepted to college and no longer care about getting an A or a B or even a C. Heck, all I want to do is pass and get out of here.  OK, so that’s your situation. But some of your classmates do care, and they still want a good grade, they still want to get into college, and heck, some of them still want to learn. Your indifference leads to distracting behaviors in class, which prevents your classmates from learning and is disrespectful to them. But most importantly, it is disrespectful to the people every year, senior class after senior class, who never give up second semester:  your teachers. Day in and day out they prepare lessons, strive to educate you, write letters on your behalf—and more letters when you don’t quite make the college of your choice. They bend over backward for you and they really care about you.

And all they want in return is your respect so they can teach. They don’t need you to feign interest, to praise them, or even to do all your homework, though that would be nice. They just want an atmosphere of tolerance and respect so they can do what they do best, and so that those who do want to benefit have the opportunity to do so.

In other words, the best way to show your respect is not to let your indifference, your lack of enthusiasm, your boredom show. It is really ok to have those feelings, but your teachers are working really hard under a different set of assumptions. Other unacceptable behaviors are more tolerable: don’t do all the homework, turn in mediocre work; however, don’t ruin the classroom experience for your friends or for your teachers. You have free periods, you have breaks, you have lunch, you have after school, and you have weekends to socialize and ignore school. For a few hours each day we simply ask that you continue to show respect for the ones who have partnered with you, every step of the way, on your road to learning and college. It has the double advantage of being respectful to your classmates who do want to continue learning. So keep it simple: no sleeping, no gossiping, no distracting behaviors. Just sit quietly, do what you are asked to do, and the time will pass.

Believe it or not, you did not invent senioritis or the senior slump. It happens every year to lots of kids. But it doesn’t happen to everyone and it almost never happens to teachers. So, this is not a criticism or an insult to you: we know how you are feeling and we understand that for many of you, the push is over. But common decency and respect simply asks for some cooperation and a polite nod and wink so that we can all finish the year as the friends we have worked hard to become.

This is the best way I can think of to show your gratitude.

If we start at the top of the aging cycle, there are the matriarchs and patriarchs of the family: grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, godparents. On my wife’s side of the family, 2009 saw the passing of one more uncle and the head count for that generation now stands at 1: my wife’s mother. At 97, she is the last remaining parent to my wife and her brother; the last aunt to her cousins on her father’s side.

Our holiday began with a big surprise: a cousin my wife had trekked around Europe with as a teenager called and announced she wanted to visit her favorite cousin and her only remaining aunt. So the first day of vacation began in the Houston airport where my wife’s cousin from West Virginia arranged for her flight to arrive around the same time as ours from Costa Rica so we could ride to the family homestead together.

The visit was one of laughter and remembrance from start to finish. The laughter began as I frantically searched the airport for cousin Patti who was nowhere to be found. I had even more fun with the bewildered information assistant at the airport trying to locate her flight. The number I had did not match anything on her itinerary. It is one thing for me to struggle with my communications in Costa Rica, butchering Spanish and trying to understand and be understood, but here we were, with no accurate fly number to go by, trying to figure out if we misheard Dulles for Dallas, if we had some misinformation, but all the time feeling deep down that we had carefully recorded the flights, times, and loacations.

Before I tell you the mistake, let me profile our cousin. She is not a backwoods country girl from West Virginia. She actually grew up in suburban Maryland/DC, grew up in a cultured and sophisticated family, attended a small college where she lettered in three sports, had a career as a high school biology teacher, and at the age of 40 decided to go to medical school. Dr. Patti now practices in a small town in West Virginia. However, unlike her background would predict, she has decided to live in the modern world without a cell phone, without a computer, and without many of the things most of us take for granted. Some may describe her as eccentric, but to us she is cousin Patti–who is nowhere to be found in the Houston airport and impossible to locate because of her eccentricities.

I return from yet another terminal train ride around the airport and discover my wife and cousin Patti chatting happily at the baggage claim, waiting for me to return. It turns out that our eccentric cousin had no idea there were two airports in Houston. Because she doesn’t have a computer to book her own flights, she asked a friend at the public library to make her reservations for her. Her friend booked her into the city airport about 25 miles away. When she discovered her error she took a cab to the correct airport and found us. In some families, that incident alone would be enough to change some old habits, but not in our family. Instead, cousin Patti will muddle along without her cell phone and computer, jogging by day, curing the sick by night (and day).

And what kind of presents did cousin Patti bring on this important visit? A shoebox, a scrapbook of grammatical mistakes, and mementoes from childhood. The two cousins sat together from morning until night giggling over the river rafting trip on the Colorado, and their backpacking through Europe. We became her captive audience as she pulled out old clippings about her dad; shared photos of her mom. She laughed hysterically at the grammatical errors she had collected for the sole purpose of sharing with her “literate, PhD in English cousin.”  Patti and aunt Juanita swapped stories, most coming from the 97 year old matriarch who delighted her niece with stories and recollections of Patti’s mother and father. As the weather back east turned snowy and grim, Patti boarded the plane, determined to return and not miss her shift at the clinic, even though we knew, on the way to the airport, that at least one of the DC airports was closed.  We found out through Facebook and emails from others that cousin Patti indeed got back, and of course did not miss a shift.

It was over so quickly I hardly knew what to think.

Meanwhile, this trip home confirmed yet another change: this last remaining member of the older generation was now legally blind. Numerous visits from a parade of medical folks interviewed her to determine whether she was eligible for any home assistance from medicaire. This army widow who saw her husband through three wars, cannot distinguish between the many pills she must take each day. She obviously cannot drive or leave the house alone. She walks through the house with a walker, having carefully mapped out trails among the furniture and the collected detrius of a lifetime of traveling and living around the world. She and her husband retired 38 years ago, bought a house, paid it off,  and now she is all that remains in the family, the last one standing in the tiny town of Huntsville, Texas. She remembers the first great influenza epidemic, so Swine Flu (or H1N1) is nothing to laugh about as far as she is concerned. In fact, she is the opposite of what you think when you put the words, “remember” and “old person” together. It seems her memory has increased and sharpened as her vision has deteriorated and failed.

At the other end of the cycle is the miracle and joy of birth. Certainly the birth of a child is a happy and exciting moment, but it too has its implications in reminding one about growing old.  Despite the relatively small size of our family, the logistics of getting people together for a holiday is always amusing. My in laws and nephew drove three hours to be with us for Christmas eve; our niece flew in for three days from Los Angeles to make the occasion, but our son and daughter-in-law would not be in until Christmas day. After our Christmas eve celebration we drove three hours back to greet them at the train station and to put my niece on a plane back to LA. They arrived, bearing great tidings of joy: they were pregnant. It was a secret that could no longer be kept as my son had to explain that his wife had spent the entire 28 hour train ride throwing up.  She also had developed strep, so as I spent Boxing day  in the waiting room of the ER, I contemplated how my little boy was now going to be a father in his own right, and his father was now going to be a grandfather. Was I supposed to do something different? I decided I would just do what I always do: be there for them.

Although this seems to be a self-indulgent, rambling piece about getting old, it is really just self-indulgent and rambling. I never really give much thought to aging. I don’t color my hair, I don’t put much stock in “big” or milestone birthdays. I don’t get offended when no one asks for my ID at a bar, and I’m not flattered when they do. When my mother-in-law is questioned about her longevity she always gives the same answer: no, she doesn’t have a secret; she doesn’t know what explains her long, good health. She suspects deep down she has been placed on this earth for a purpose, and she can only figure that God has kept her alive this long to fulfill that purpose, whatever it is. So she keeps as busy as she can, given her limited mobility and eyesight. She calls her “elderly” friends every day (often at least 10 or more years younger than she is) to buoy their spirits, check on their status, and figure out if she is needed in any way. She has someone read her the obituaries every day, and someone has to read her email in case anyone is sick and needs to be added to her prayer list. She follows the stock market and the weather to make sure her money is holding out and in case she needs to pray for help in case there is a storm in Costa Rica or Chicago or Los Angeles…Although she lives alone and cannot leave the house, she is always ready to help. If all she can do is pray, well, there is no one I would count on more to have a direct line to the Almighty than my mother-in-law.

Life is filled with excitement and adventure such as moving to Costa Rica, experiencing a new culture, making new friends. Life has its ups, its downs, its victories and defeats. It also has its routines, its ordinariness, and its mundane obligations. When we talk about making the most of life I think it has something to do with figuring out how to embrace the mundane and routine; to be prepared; to be available; to be aware.

In many ways, my mother-in-law and I could not be more different, and yet I share her philosophy of life. I suspect I am here for some purpose, though I don’t exactly know what it is. Maybe it’s to look for lost cousins in the airport. Maybe it’s to make supper for someone who spends most of her time alone and relishes every minute of company. Or maybe it is to wait in emergency rooms or train stations, just to be there. I try not to hurt other people, and I help as many as I can. I’m not concerned about figuring out why I am here, I just know that I am and as long as I keep busy and let people know I am willing to help, things will be OK.

Congratulations to the girls and boys who participated in the AASCA basketball tournament. The girls went undefeated for the second year in a row and captured the championship. The boys only lost one game and finished third. It was a very well-organized tournament, and the host school, Marian Baker, set a high standard once again for all the AASCA schools to follow. The games at CDS were a lot of fun as well. The parent boosters stayed for every game selling food and refreshments, the students took turns as Captain Black, the CDS Panther, and the gym was rocking with noise and enthusiasm for the home teams.

[View with PicLens]

I continue to be impressed with the behavior of our students. I have always complimented our kids on their kindness to each other and their overall acceptance and inclusiveness when it comes to others. A tournament involving schools from other Central American countries is yet another test of that goodwill, and I thought our kids passed that test with their usual good cheer and good sportsmanship. And I am pleased to say that it wasn’t just our kids. I noticed the same spirit in the kids from Panama, the kids from El Salvador, the kids from Guatemala and the other Costa Rican school kids. I don’t know if it is something about small schools (this was the AASCA small school basketball tournament) that brings this out in kids, but I don’t always hear accounts of the kind of inclusiveness and acceptance I saw this past weekend from teachers and coaches at much larger schools. When I think of the stereotypes of cliques and bullies and elitism, they usually come out of large, impersonal, high schools. And I mean no disrespect to large schools. I am sure there are many large schools where the sense of acceptance and community is equal to if not greater than what we experience. Nevertheless, this small school phenomenon that I am experiencing is unique to me as an educator and I want to applaud it.

Let me share with you a few highlights from the tournament, and none of them have anything to do with basketball, winning, or losing. At the icebreaker the players were all taught a dance to a popular “instructional” song, and all the kids had a great time interacting, jumping around, and learning the dance. Spontaneously, during half time or during a break in the action, someone would play the song over the speaker system and a team would jump up, race to the middle of the court, and start doing the dance. Other teams would hear the music and jump up to join them. It didn’t matter that the gym was filled with kids and adults from many different schools; there was no self-consciousness or shame. Everyone joined in on the fun.

After the hard fought games, the kids all gathered for some food and the distribution of trophies. When mvp’s or high scorers were announced, a genuine display of good will and congratulations erupted from the audience. Teams gave opponents standing ovations out of respect and admiration. I felt a great deal of pride watching as the athletes celebrated their successes as a team and applauded the successes of others. It was a display of good sportsmanship that arose out of programs that clearly emphasized and encouraged fair play.

As a school culture we moved seamlessly from AASCA to Halloween, finishing off the week with a rare all-school activity. I thought it was appropriate, in a way, that one of the few all-school events–celebrated independently and differently in each division–followed on the heels of AASCA, another “all-school” event in which each division plays an unique role. Each division participates in Halloween in what can best be described as age-appropriate activities. The elementary kids dress up in costumes and trick or treat throughout the school. The middle schoolers  help distribute the candy, then get ready for their special activity: the Halloween dance. And finally, high school kids help the adults with the pizza sale and completely organize and supervise the games for the younger kids.

Speaking of seamless transitions, as we head into the Action tournament for basketball, the traditional end of basketball season, we also begin to move outdoors for the start of soccer season. The boys and girls soccer teams have already had several friendly matches and are eager to start their seasons. Below are a list of games that take us into next year and through the middle of March.

Varsity Soccer Action Tournament

Tues. Nov. 17: Girls vs Blue Valley 3:15 at Blue Valley

Tues. Nov. 24: Girls vs Lincoln 4:00 at CDS

Mon. Nov. 30: Boys vs ICS 3:15 at ICS

Thurs. Dec. 3: Girls vs AIS 3:15 at AIS

Boys vs AIS 4:00 at AIS

Sat. Dec. 12: Boys vs UWC 10:30 at UWC

Thurs. Jan. 21: Girls vs AIS 3:15 at CDS

Tues. Jan. 26: Girls vs ICS 3:15 at CDS

Mon. Feb. 8: Boys vs Blue Valley 3:15 at CDS

Tues. Feb. 9: Girls vs MBS 3:15 at San Ramon de Tres Rios

Thus. Feb. 11: Girls vs UWC 3:15 at CDS

Tues. Feb. 16: Girls vs MBS 3:15 at CDS

Mon. Feb. 22: Boys vs MBS 3:15 at CDS

Tues. Feb. 23: Girls vs AIS 3:15 at AIS

Tues. Mar.1:  Girls vs Lincoln 3:15 at Lincoln

Boys vs Lincoln 4:00 at CDS

March 10-14: AASCA Soccer in Panamá

March 15-19: Semifinal and Final Action Games

Sorry this post is so late…I was hoping to upload some photos from the events but had some trouble. As I begin working on my next post I realize I should just put this one up. Sorry again for the delay.

Thursday, October 22  11:00 Girls vs. Maya Guatemala

Thursday, October 22  12:15 Boys vs. Maya Guatemala

Thursday, October 22  2:45 Girls vs. CDS Guanacaste

Thursday, October 22  4:00 Boys vs. Balboa

Friday, October 23  8:00  Girls vs. ISP

Friday, October 23  9:15  Boys vs. AIS

Friday, October 23  10:30  Girls vs. Balboa

The rest of the games depend upon how the teams perform in the tournament. Times and places will be announced.