Are You a Difference Maker?

With the Super Bowl just a few days away I have been reflecting on my year. Wondering if I have been a difference maker for students, teachers, staff and parents. Several years ago I posted a blog about Randall McDaniel. It seemed appropriate to revist.

In 2009,  Randall McDaniel was inducted into the National Football League Hall of Fame. He was drafted by the Minnesota Vikings in the first round of the draft in 1988. He played in the NFL for 14 years and was in 12 Pro Bowls. Did you know he has spent the last 12+ years in education helping students? Yes, 6’3”, 276 pound, offensive lineman, Randall McDaniel is an educator.

His 2009 Hall of Fame induction speech moved me. When I wonder why I am in education or if what I am doing is having an impact, I find myself going back to his speech. He talks about dedication, energy, commitment and passion. He compares teaching to playing on the offensive line. “Life as an educator is quite similar. You bring your lunch pail to work and do an extremely tough job, without much fan fare or glory, and like an offensive lineman you typically go unnoticed, unless something goes wrong and yet without teachers nothing much would be possible.”

McDaniel continues, “We need someone to believe in us, to guide us, to teach us. We need the special people in our lives; who help shape the person we choose to become. They’re the ones who take the time to see you when you feel invisible, they’re the ones who believe in you and teach you to believe in yourself.  They’re the ones who see the hidden potential and help you discover it. They’re the ones who dust you off when you fall and encourage you to give it another try. They are the difference makers in our lives.”

As you continue this school year, filled with change and possibility, uncertainty and promise, will you be a difference maker, a caring individual who can and will make a difference in someone’s life? Think about the difference makers in your life? When did you need them the most? Look out in your classroom, in your school, in your community and ask yourself, “Who needs me the most today?” Imagine the impact we can have if we begin each day with the thought of being a difference maker.

How are you a difference maker?

Please take a few minutes and listen to Randall McDaniel’s 2009 Hall of Fame Induction Speech.

http://www.nfl.com/videos/nfl-hall-of-fame/09000d5d811c4f88

Yes, the geeky-English teacher that I am has jumped all over The Hunger Games craze. Yes, I've coerced all of my students into buying the book to use in class, most of us have seen the movie, plan to blog our fingers off, and are in the throes of crafting brilliant literary analysis essays that utilize the 12-18 prominent literary elements featured in the book. . .

So forgive me if I'm seeing connections between The Hunger Games and current teacher evaluation methods.

Example: Districts in fictitious Panem, with limited resources, are forced to fight against each other to win favor (which translates to grain, protein, money, etc.), for the district belonging to the one victor who kills all of the other tributes that are forced to fight to the death in the yearly “hunger games." The Capitol's goal is to remind individual districts that rebellion is futile and that blind obedience is rewarded.

Anyone else reminded of Race to the Top’s rewards to states that have changed legislation about teacher evaluation and tenure just to get more funding? No? Just me?

How about this: As Katniss and Peeta (protagonists from District 12 in The Hunger Games) muddle through all of the grueling points of rising action, the Capitol keeps changing the rules as to who can be the victor(s). First there's only one winner, then two, then back to one, then ultimately two after the main characters threaten to kill themselves a la Romeo and Juliet double-suicide pact.

Anyone else making connections to the different rounds of winners in the different rounds of The Race to Hunger, I mean, Race to the Top? Anyone else not too sure what, exactly, constitutes “student growth” in new teacher evaluation instruments? Anyone else have evaluators not quite trained to adequately evaluate the people in the grand ole game competing for the prize of "performance pay?"

Anyone? No?

Guess it's just me then.

Good luck to my colleagues engaging with the many makers of the many edu-games that dominate the topographies of our arenas for teaching and learning. This tribute from district Arizona gives you a heartfelt, sealed-with-a-kiss, 3-fingered salute. I know that, in a perfect-edu-world, the odds would ever be in your favor.

Many times as educators---just by the nature of our profession-- we’re in it because we love kids and are driven to leave a legacy of learning for the next generation. 

The very nature of the people who are called to this profession is that often we wear our hearts on our sleeves; and in such a precarious position, our hearts are easily bruised.  And over the years, some of the energy, some of the vibrancy, some of the optimism, some of the hopeful expectation is diminished because we feel marginalized, devalued, and stereotyped.

 As a National Board Certified teacher, I must confess that recently I was going through such a funk; and I know better.  But I received inspiration from a very unlikely source.  He and I don’t know each other, we’re not in the same profession, we don’t collaborate via webinars, neither is he one of my FB friends. But his story spoke to my heart in a way that I gained fresh perspective about a difficult two week period in my life. 

In the midst of my pity party came Jeremy Lin.  Just in case you don’t know who he is, permit me a moment to share the little that I know.

Jeremy is a basketball player of Asian descent who, after graduating from Harvard, became an undrafted talent looking for a place in the NBA. Two years and three teams later, up until a week ago, he'd seen about as much playing time as I have.  As circumstances would have it, a series of injuries on the team catapulted him into the unlikely role as the starting point guard for the floundering New York Knicks. In one week, his record-setting accomplishments have inspired people all over the world to not give up on their unlikely dreams!

 So here I am, on the other side of my funk, glad to say that my unlikely dream for the teaching profession is still intact.  “I still believe that in spite of everything” that, strengthened by the National Board Standards, the teaching profession can:

• be one that is highly respected and well-paid
• create a self-regulating licensing board, much like the legal and medical professions, that retains and rewards the effective teachers and, for evidence of malpractice, weeds out the ineffective
• develop and implement rigorous university-based teacher training programs that adequately prepare future teachers for tomorrow’s classrooms
• lead the way in transforming how schools are funded in this country
• be transformed from a job of last resort to (as coined by my friend Alaina Adams) a League of Extraordinary Educators.

To the regret of the teams who let him go, Jeremy Lin has not only led the Knicks on a five-game winning streak--an experience they’ve not enjoyed for awhile--but he’s set some amazing records along the way in his first four games as a starter. 

In all this I can’t help but wonder how many schools, how many districts, how many departments of education have devalued their "Jeremy Lins" and now sit in the stands watching those extraordinary educators invest their talents into transforming other systems into winning teams?

 Let’s learn a lesson, that’s come unfortunately too late for Jeremy’s former teams: we need to do all we can to retain, empower and reward accomplished teachers. Period. 

 But if you find yourself feeling like an undrafted, unwanted talent whose value and efforts are marginalized, take heart; be inspired by Jeremy Lin’s story.

 You too can make your unlikely dream a reality.

 

Two weeks ago, Nancy Flanagan wrote an interesting blog about the proclivity for men to employ sports metaphors while framing education debates. I was thrilled to see that my first K-12 Center blog had actually been referenced, and thus ran through the house yelling, "I'm somebody! I'm somebody!" like Steve Martin in the film, "The Jerk."

Martin's character was excited that he had been "published" in a California phone book. I, on the other hand, was celebrating the fact that somebody besides me had talked about me. However, after several near misses with stairs, my dog, and my own two feet, I stopped to catch my breath. Then, I got to thinking.  

I considered my "Man Card,' that invisible but omnipresent tally of my collected indicators of manliness.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with the concept, allow me to enlighten.  A man gains or loses Man Card points during the course of each day based upon his actions, opinions, or favorite things.  Liking raindrops on roses, or whiskers on kittens? Minus two, unless the kitten is a puma. Having taught a primary grade? Minus one. Knowing all four lines of the local hockey team? Plus four.  Having taught intermediate grades? Plus one. Being able to recite the script for "Pee Wee's Big Adventure?" There's no ruling, yet, although there are strong opinions both ways.

Nancy's blog did help me to realize that I do trend towards sports analogies, with some regularity. However, following the introspection that she prompted, I think I know why. Much of what we do in education is based on data, pure and simple.  In sports, even potential athletes are ranked by their "measurables." We understand what a .304 batting average means. We know that exceeding a 90% free-throw percentage will put you among the best, ever. We know that a 4.2 second, 40 yard dash is ridiculously fast.

Where else does your average male interact with so much data? You might mumble something about finances, however, judging by the recent collapse of the credit bubble, I would argue that perhaps men should stick to explaining slugging percentages. In short, men seem to be pretty good at relating to sports because they provide us with a schema that women don't necessarily need. Women have something called "common sense." But remember, real men do, in the words of Ron Burgundy, own "many leather bound books, and smell of rich mahogany." Talk about the best of both worlds.

(Add one point for the "Anchorman" reference.)  

I then began to recall many of the other metaphors that I have invoked, relative to sports. And, seeing an opportunity to earn back some lost points for the careful coordination of my periwinkle shirt and appropriately coordinated tie last Tuesday, decided to share another personal favorite.

Years ago, I presented about grading and assessment to a crowd that included high school teachers. At the conclusion of my presentation, a man who identified himself as a coach and social studies teacher, privately questioned the "assess, teach, re-asses, re-teach" model of instruction as being "nonsense" and "fluffy." He had not bought what I had been selling and was clearly aggravated that I had wasted his paper-grading time. Searching for a way to help him understand the concept led me back to his first passion: coaching basketball.

"Think of it this way," I said. "You're the coach of a successful program. You teach your kids how to be successful during practice. Then, they play the game. You make observations about their performance and use them to shape personalized instruction during the next series of practices. Further, you even use video study to break down their game performances to the smallest detail. You share what was revealed in a differentiated manner and offer new ways of learning. More coaching. Then, you play another game, and 'rinse and repeat' the entire process."

He hadn't walked away or punched me yet, so I figured I might be on to something. Plus, I had just earned five points for understanding the coaching cycle, but had lost three points for the shampoo bottle instruction reference of "rinse and repeat." 

I concluded that it was best to go double or nothing, and stepped back just beyond his arm's reach.

"Guided practice and homework or the same as your practices. The games are your assessments. The improvement you seek for the next game is student learning, thus, you re-teach or extend. For years, you've been following the model I just spent two hours describing."

His posture changed, instantly. As he walked away, he simply said, "Now that makes sense. You should have said that in the first place."

I had accidentally stumbled on something and I have used it, ever since. On top of believing that I had impacted instruction in a high school, I had also picked up cherished Man Card points. Very unusual, indeed.

As I triumphantly packed my presentation materials, I looked up at the coach and his pack of male colleagues who seemed to be discussing what I had just shared. My eyes met theirs for one brief, yet defining moment. 

It was then that I realized that the third color in my tie matched both the pin stripes of my suit and the trim of my shoes.  

Minus six.

I really wish there was some sort of an appeal process. But, I'm still banking on those Pee Wee points coming in, soon.