Please join me in this post for an annual tradition: the beginning of school playlist!
Readers of the blog may remember that, years ago, my good friend and educational leader Sean Gaillard (author of The Pepper Effect – great reading for any and all Beatles fans and a must read for educators!) introduced me to the idea of #OneSong which developed into the idea of a mixtape which morphed into the exercise of developing an annual playlist. For the last few years, I have put together a playlist to lead me with energy, optimism and enthusiasm into the upcoming school year.
My specific criterion for songs to make my list:
songs whose lyrics of the song resonate with me,
songs that move me,
songs that inspire me,
songs that send me.
The goal here is to play the list and rocket into a new year on the most positive of notes… pun intended.
Generating positive energy is the goal. Generating it through music is a gift.
Doing some truly rough math (the only math I know how to do), I am confident in saying that I have written over 500 posts about education over the past nine years.
This post officially begins the 10th year of the Teach and Serve blog.
Paradoxically, it feels like I have been doing this forever while I cannot believe that 10 years have already passed.
Time. It does fly.
Over the course of this past decade – which began with me working at the Jesuit Schools Network, saw me, for various reasons both wonderful and painful, move to Mullen High School, to KIPP’s Northeast Denver Leadership Academy and, finally, to Xavier College Preparatory High School – I have posted a blog almost every week of the academic year. I chose Wednesdays as the days my blog would post, likely because I thought the middle of the week gave me two days to remember to post, also likely because Wednesdays have traditionally been the days that new comic books are published. Anyone with passing familiarity with me or with Teach Boldly knows that comic books are a rather big part of my life. For the majority of these 10 years, I have posted once a week on Teach Boldly. For some years, I chose to write companion pieces every-other-Thursday focusing on a specific theme. There have been some repeated posts, some reworked posts, and some posts wherein I simply plagiarized myself.
Doing some truly rough math (the only math I know how to do), I am confident in saying that I have written over 500 posts about education over the past nine years.
500.
That is a lot of posts and leaves me with the question: what more do I have to say?
I am not entirely sure, but, this past summer, I made the determination to give this one more whirl. 10 is such a nice number.
Welcome, then, to the 10th year of Teach and Serve. How much I have left to say that I have not already said remains to be seen. Whether any of what is to come is relevant or interesting is surely up to you, Dear Reader (and thank you for reading!).
Here is what I know about this 10th year:
I am going to be dedicated to publishing new material weekly,
I have already mapped out the entirety of the year’s posts,
I am going to give my honest opinions about the state of many things in education,
I am going to try to get more people to read the blog (YOU can help – please share with friends!),
and this might be the last year of Teach and Serve. We will see.
So, here we go. Once more unto the breach. One more time.
In the late May morass, we are likely to forget to acknowledge to ourselves that we have, in fact, changed lives.
Late May in schools is rife with many emotions. Teachers and administrators are ready to bid the year farewell and to get to summer vacation. Late May brings with it the promise that an opportunity for rest and recharging is not far away. Certainly there are some obstacles yet to clear with exams or grading final projects, cleaning out of classrooms and turning in of reports, packing up materials and checking out of buildings.
Though the end is nigh, there are still things to do.
Our students have things to do, too and they normally do not accomplish one of the most critical tasks at the end of the school year. With varying degrees of seriousness and success, they approach their final projects and tests. They clean out their lockers. They sign their yearbooks and they say their goodbyes. But they typically leave out something very important.
Multiple summers down the road, when water has passed under bridges and calendar pages have turned, many former students realize they forgot something back in the spring months of their school days. At some point in the journey of their lives your former students recognize what happened and many seek out past instructors to tell them something profound: “you changed my life.”
It is not entirely fair to expect students living in these late May moments to understand what has occurred in their lives. Some do. Some know the debts of gratitude they owe. Some are able to articulate this to their teachers. But the vast majority have not the breadth of knowledge, the introspection or the reflective capacity to get it.
Not yet.
They have not lived enough life and that is okay. As educators, we know that our students are not finished products. They have more to learn.
And so do we because, in the late May morass, we are just as likely to forget to acknowledge to ourselves that we have, in fact, changed lives.
Working in schools is not like painting a wall. Teachers do not get to blue tape the edges of their students and fill in the gaps until they are fully colored and vibrant. Teachers do not get to see the results of the hours of preparation and the early mornings and the late nights. Teachers do not know the seeds they are planting as they are dropping them in fertile ground. Teachers do not always know the effect they have until long after they have had it.
At this moment, I know full well that many of your students are not paying attention to you in class, are pushing every button you have, and are just as ready to be away from you as you are from them. I know that many of us are just as ready for summer as our charges are. I know that there is much to accomplish and much to do. I know this. But I know something else, too. In late May teachers need this critical perspective and I would like to provide it.
Please allow me to remind all the teachers and coaches and administrators and educational professionals: you have changed lives these last nine months. Please allow me to remind you about something that is profound in our work:
You have changed lives.
Treasure giving that gift, even if those who receive it are not always able to acknowledge that they have.
This is the final edition of Teach & Serve for the 2023-2024 school year.
…for the love of your students, remind them of this, repeat this, tell them this: “You can succeed.”
Any way we look at the calendar, we must inevitably reach one conclusion: the calendar is winding down on the school year.
It is a time of anticipation. A break is coming. We can almost taste it.
Thank. God.
But while we experience the joy of these last days, we ought to remember they can be a time of intense stress for our students. Yes, we have much to do, but so do they. Though their perceptions may not always be accurate, our students can feel that the whole year comes down to the next few days, that all they have done all year will not amount to anything if they do not nail it now. They may feel that the next few days are the most critical ones.
While I would be very skeptical of a system or a teacher or a class that backloads everything for students who are not in college to the last few minutes of the year, I know it happens. I know students feel this way.
I know it. You do, too.
Heck, you may agree they should feel this way, that they should be pounding right until the end and that these days should be circled in red.
Fine. Any and all of the above is fine.
But, please, for the love of your students, remind them of this, repeat this, tell them this: “You can succeed.”
It is my hope they have heard this from you in overt and covert ways all year.
They should have.
But now, more than ever, remind them: “You can succeed.”
You know what they forgot? They forgot to bring the funny.
There is a wonderful moment in the terrific show The West Wing when speech writers Sam Seaborn and Toby Ziegler are developing material for the President of the United States to deliver at the Annual White House Correspondents’ Dinner. These comments are intended to showcase the President’s lighthearted relationship with the Fourth Estate and are supposed to engage, amuse and challenge.
It is not going well for these fictional writers.
As they review their work, Sam says to Toby: “You know what they forgot? They forgot to bring the funny.”
Not every leader is funny. Not every leader has the ability to make light of situations. Not every leader can readily make people laugh. But every leader should consider leaning into lighthearted moments. Every leader should consider creating lighthearted moments. Bringing the funny tends to put people at ease.
Leaders should not forget to bring the funny (especially as the end of the year is SO CLOSE). The ability to make people laugh and to release the tensions of challenging situations should not be underrated.
The work we do can feel relentless. Lightening things up is a welcome relief for those we lead.
