With the close of last school year, I completed my 30th campaign in education. Each of those years has been filled with joy and sorrow, challenges and successes, ups and downs and a ton of stories worth sharing. My (True) Life in Education Thus Far will detail 30 or so of those stories. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed living (most) of them!
MY FIRST OBSERVATION
OCTOBER 26, 2022
Disclaimer as I begin this post: I came to understand and appreciate the administrator I discuss here in so many ways over the course of the 20 years we worked together. A person of commitment and passion, this administrator remains one of the hardest working colleagues I have ever journeyed alongside. This administrator’s desire to improve Regis Jesuit High School was, in my opinion, unmatched during my years there. While I often did not agree with this administrator’s perspective or goals and quite often found myself at odds with this administrator’s leadership tactics and philosophies, I can truly say, without snark or irony, that I learned as much from this administrator about being dedicated and being a leader as I did from anyone else I have encountered in my career.
During the first ten years of my Regis Jesuit tenure, I was a classroom teacher who took on other roles, but I was not an administrator. As a classroom teacher, I both dreaded being observed by admin and wanted to be observed by admin. In my years at Bishop McNamara, I had grown used to being observed and receiving feedback. I still conduct my observations in very much the same way they were administered to me at McNamara because I liked and continue to respect the practice.
At Regis Jesuit, I was not observed my first year. At all.
But I did have an administrator, the administrator mentioned in the disclaimer, drop by my classroom. Once.
On the last day of school my first year at Regis, the community celebrated something of a field day. It was called Raiderfest and it took place after a shortened schedule for all students. The end of each day at the school was signaled by announcements before the final bell was rung and this day was no different. Students would be dismissed to Raiderfest after announcements.
I have noted earlier this year in a post that I was a jerk as a young teacher, a teacher with a ton of ego and a lot to prove, and I made it a point that my students DID NOT TALK during afternoon announcements. I threatened and admonished them if they did. I had a whole series of repercussions worked out if they deigned to speak. My recollection is the boys in my class were typically very quiet during announcements.
On that last day of the year, my first year, the administrator mentioned above determined that everyone would be absolutely silent during afternoon announcements before Raiderfest would be allowed to commence. On reflection, I am sure that there was something important that the students needed to hear that day. This was long before email and announcements were a means – almost the only one – to communicate with the student body. I am certain that something important was in the offing that afternoon.
But it was the last day and the classrooms around me were pretty pumped up, pretty loud and pretty impatient. I had kept the boys in my classroom quiet for what seemed to be an eternity and, finally, I relented and allowed them to speak a bit. In that moment, a different administrator came over the PA saying that announcements would not begin until everyone was quiet.
At that point, I said – and I do remember this as clear as if it happened yesterday – “Gentlemen, let’s be quiet. Maybe we are part of the problem.” At that precise second, the administrator who is the subject of this post walked into my classroom, pointed at me and said “you are.”
The boys’ eyes went wide as they quieted down, my temper rose as the administrator raced down the hall to the next room and my anger simmered.
Once announcements were concluded and my students were deposited at Raiderfest, I stormed – the correct word – the administrator’s office.
In line before me to speak with him with what I was sure was a very similar issue, was a teacher I very much respected who was my mentor. We exchanged glances before he went into the administrator’s office. They spoke in raised tones – my mentor rarely raised his voice – for a moment and then my mentor departed and I was summoned.
I do not remember the preamble between me and the administrator.
I do remember saying “it is really unfortunate that the first and only time you were in my classroom this year was to show me up in front of my students.”
And I remember leaving the office on that comment.
Mic. Dropped.
The administrator and I never again spoke of that moment.
While I look back and think I could have handled that afternoon more professionally, I know that it convinced me of something I have carried with me for over 20 years: good administrators need to be present to and in relationship with the teachers and staff and, while I struggle to do a good job of this each-and-every-year and know that I have a long way to go to be who I want to be in this aspect of my leadership, that day established it as a priority.
