One of my favorite bands of all-time is (or was, as I don't think they're still together) Hootie and the Blowfish. Hootie's was the first rock concert I ever attended. I have all of their albums. I even have Darius Rucker's solo rhythm and blues attempt, which was solo in another way, too- it was his only one.
But, to remain relevant, Darius Rucker evolved. Taking a risk, Darius launched a country music career in 2008. For those of you who don't know, Darius Rucker is African-American. Furthermore, very few African-Americans have vertured into the world of country music; even fewer have found success there. Prior to Darius reaching #1 on the country charts in September of 2008, the last African-American to accomplish this feat was Charley Pride in 1983, 25 years before. Growing up in South Carolina, Darius was no stranger to country music. A singer with a soulful voice, his evolution into country music was not as far of a leap as some may think. But, it was definitely a leap, and one that enabled Darius Rucker to remain "bearing upon or connected with the matter in hand" (from Dictionary.com). Hootie and the Blowfish is no longer relevant. Darius Rucker is.
As Catholic Educators, are we connected with the matter in hand? Do we have direct bearing upon what is pertinent, important, timely? Have we appropriately evolved? Or, do we still teach, solely, from behind a podium? Do we punish entire classes for the misdeeds of a small few? Are we autocratic or authoritative? Are we educating students for success in our world or theirs? Is our educational approach relevant?
As Catholic Educators, the beauty of the message of the Gospel is that it is timeless. It is always relevant, always pertinent. Our Catholic Church is a wonderful example of staying relevant while still maintaining a rich tradition. Its roots continue to get deeper so that its branches can continue to grow taller. The Vatican has a YouTube Channel: http://www.youtube.com/user/vatican. The Pope even has a Twitter account, "tweeting" on February 8: "I invite Christians, with an informed & responsible creativity, to join the network of relationships which the digital era has made possible" (from http://twitter.com/#!/PopeBenedictXIV). On November 27, the American Church will put to use the Third Edition of the Roman Missal, harkening to a more direct translation between the prayers used during the Celebration of the Eucharist and the Scripture upon which they are based. The Catholic Church is staying relevant while maintaining its firm foundation.
As Catholic Schools we must use our creativity to stay relevant. We must enlist the help of our parents, corporations and businesses. We must find ways to use state and federal money to our advantage. We must capitalize on scholarship money and grants. We must seek out the most up to date research on planning, instruction and assessment and weave it into our style of teaching. We must market. We must plan. We must teach in such a way that the Catholic Church remains relevant for another 2,000 years. We must be better than the educational offerings at public, private or even other denominational schools. We must evangelize.
Every aspect of our schools must show the relevance between the subject matters we teach and the only Subject that really matters- Jesus.
Every aspect including our blogs...
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Proof
Elizabeth can stand. Not quite cruising yet (which, for all of my readers who are not parents, means that a child walks with the support of his/her hands on objects such as a couch or coffee table), Elizabeth is able to pull herself up on just about anything a few inches off the ground; she can also crawl at the speed of some small animals. This, in turn, has caused me and Emily to do a bit of "baby-proofing" around our house. Shoes have to be put in the closet. Food and sharp utensils cannot be kept even with body-length/reach. The TV is kept off between the hours of 6:00 a.m. and 7:00 p.m. Doors of rooms "off-limits" are permanently closed. In a lot of ways, the house is more "adult-proof" than "baby-proof".
My heightened sense of anxiety because of Elizabeth's heightened abilities of mobility has perpetuated a reflection on the word "proof".
It has multiple meanings. A noun, verb and adjective, the word means everything from evidence, to a trial copy, to resistant and the activation of yeast.
Proofing was mentioned in last week's Gospel: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed with three measures of wheat flour until the whole batch was leavened” (Matthew 13: 32 - 33). Part of Jesus' long list of parables, proofing - or the activation of yeast - is a concept that recurs throughout the Bible, but mostly in a negative way. But, as Jesus often does, he reverses the commonly held perception of yeast and gives it lasting power. We think of proofing dough and its connotation to how we should view the Kingdom of God in a positive way. Bread that doesn't rise or expand, even in our carb conscious culture, is typically not a good thing (especially if it is supposed to). Prior to Jesus's use of the concept, yeast was seen as something that would take over dough, similar to the way that sin can take over every aspect of our lives. Expanding and rising in intensity, even a little sin can lead us into a downward spiral.
Jesus's use of the idea is proof that we are called to rise and expand. We are to become activated, quickened, elevated, and in being so enlivened - leavened - we should be able to do the same for others.
Educators within Catholic Schools should be this key ingredient in the recipe for our students' learning. Inspiring the pursuit of greater and deeper knowledge should be coupled with an equally intense search for spiritual development. The two of these combined should leaven us out of our school doors to make the world a better place. We shouldn't just be bread for the world, we must also be the yeast that makes the bread possible.
So, we must provide a different type of proof as well. We must be the proof, or evidence, that the Kingdom of God truly exists. Called to establish His Kingdom here on Earth in the hopes of inheriting a piece of it in eternity, we must behave in such a way that our very lives cause others to consider the fact that there is not only a benevolent God, but that this God passionately desires an intimate relationship with us. We must be the proof (n.):
1. The evidence or argument that compels the mind to accept an assertion as true
2. The convincing or persuasive demonstration
3. The determination of the quality of something by testing (definitions via: The Free Dictionary)
of such a God.
How do we offer up such proof? With the same ingredient that proves we are Christians and that mom's cooking really is the best: love.
My heightened sense of anxiety because of Elizabeth's heightened abilities of mobility has perpetuated a reflection on the word "proof".
It has multiple meanings. A noun, verb and adjective, the word means everything from evidence, to a trial copy, to resistant and the activation of yeast.
Proofing was mentioned in last week's Gospel: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed with three measures of wheat flour until the whole batch was leavened” (Matthew 13: 32 - 33). Part of Jesus' long list of parables, proofing - or the activation of yeast - is a concept that recurs throughout the Bible, but mostly in a negative way. But, as Jesus often does, he reverses the commonly held perception of yeast and gives it lasting power. We think of proofing dough and its connotation to how we should view the Kingdom of God in a positive way. Bread that doesn't rise or expand, even in our carb conscious culture, is typically not a good thing (especially if it is supposed to). Prior to Jesus's use of the concept, yeast was seen as something that would take over dough, similar to the way that sin can take over every aspect of our lives. Expanding and rising in intensity, even a little sin can lead us into a downward spiral.
Jesus's use of the idea is proof that we are called to rise and expand. We are to become activated, quickened, elevated, and in being so enlivened - leavened - we should be able to do the same for others.
Educators within Catholic Schools should be this key ingredient in the recipe for our students' learning. Inspiring the pursuit of greater and deeper knowledge should be coupled with an equally intense search for spiritual development. The two of these combined should leaven us out of our school doors to make the world a better place. We shouldn't just be bread for the world, we must also be the yeast that makes the bread possible.
So, we must provide a different type of proof as well. We must be the proof, or evidence, that the Kingdom of God truly exists. Called to establish His Kingdom here on Earth in the hopes of inheriting a piece of it in eternity, we must behave in such a way that our very lives cause others to consider the fact that there is not only a benevolent God, but that this God passionately desires an intimate relationship with us. We must be the proof (n.):
1. The evidence or argument that compels the mind to accept an assertion as true
2. The convincing or persuasive demonstration
3. The determination of the quality of something by testing (definitions via: The Free Dictionary)
of such a God.
How do we offer up such proof? With the same ingredient that proves we are Christians and that mom's cooking really is the best: love.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Cultivation
Void of both teachers and students for the past month and at the tail end of a two week vacation with my family, I have enjoyed taking a greater role in the "home schooling" of our daughter (she's 8 months old). Present for more naps, block staking and knocking over, movements, attempts at speaking, baths and new foods, I have come to a greater appreciation for single parents and/or parents who are essentially single for any reason such as a spouse serving oversees.
I've taught in classrooms of close to 30 students. I ran a High School athletic program. I just completed my first year as Principal in a school of over 30 personnel and 340 students. I should be able to handle just one, right?
But, as any teacher who is also a parent (and many parents/people who think that anyone with even a high school education can teach) would attest: parenting is an entirely different and entirely more important type of education.
Unfortunately, I would venture to say that our American society does not share my high regard for parenting. Case in point, upon a recent trip to the Post Office with Elizabeth, my wife Emily found herself last in a very long line. The next customer after Emily and Elizabeth was a middle-aged woman with only her parcels in tow. As the line slowly inched forward, and Emily managed both Elizabeth and our packages to mail, the woman said to my wife:
Are mothers in America sacred?
The Catholic Church does not shy from its stance on the importance of parents:
Furthermore, the Church promotes the family as the primary avenue of the propagation of the faith. Blessed John Paul the Great wrote in his Letter to Families:
Children should learn about Jesus from their parents. This faith should be supported by participation in the Church, not the sole place it is supplied.
Parents are not just important. They are the most important part of Catholic education.
But, how many Catholics have even read this letter? Or, how many, regardless of whether or not this letter was read, even believe that parents and the family play such an integral role in the development of children?
Plato wrote, "A society cultivates whatever is honored there."
Do we honor children? How about families?
Hospitals in America view women in labor as patients. Is giving birth a sickness? Cereal companies, knowing the huge childhood obesity problem in our country, often list sugar or one of its many aliases, as the second most bountiful ingredient- which is okay because they're made with whole grains! Advertisers, regardless of the product, keep in mind our children and strive for brand recognition and loyalty. Television, even "kid-friendly" programs, often contain objectionable material.
But, sex sells, and in a society where money is honored, money is in turn cultivated...at the expense of our children.
ABC News supposedly paid Casey Anthony $200,000.00 for exclusive rights to videos and pictures of her story. Chances are also good that at some point, she will capitalize from this infamy.
Kate (of "Plus 8" fame), sans John, still gets paid for offering up the lives of her children, even though it already cost her her marriage.
Even teachers cultivate money as opposed to children. Despite attempts in many school districts across the country to base teacher salaries on performance, most public systems allow tenured teachers- many of who are burnt out or at best antiquated- to keep their high paying positions regardless of their inadequacy.
Money is honored here and we think that just because we hate Casey Anthony that we can claim to care about and cultivate our kids.
That's like planting a garden in the shade, watering it sparingly with Coke, giving it a shot of Miracle Grow and expecting it to yield a bountiful harvest.
As Catholic educators (teachers and/or parents), we must approach each child we encounter as the sacred gifts that they are. We must realize that (and I've included this before) as teachers we do not "write on inanimate material but on the very spirits of human beings."
In honoring our children, we must do much more than press a "Like" button to voice our displeasure at a bad parent, or add some Miracle Grow to make up for our deficiencies. We must spend less time cultivating our money trees and more time giving some TLC to another abstract arbor: our family trees.
I've taught in classrooms of close to 30 students. I ran a High School athletic program. I just completed my first year as Principal in a school of over 30 personnel and 340 students. I should be able to handle just one, right?
But, as any teacher who is also a parent (and many parents/people who think that anyone with even a high school education can teach) would attest: parenting is an entirely different and entirely more important type of education.
Unfortunately, I would venture to say that our American society does not share my high regard for parenting. Case in point, upon a recent trip to the Post Office with Elizabeth, my wife Emily found herself last in a very long line. The next customer after Emily and Elizabeth was a middle-aged woman with only her parcels in tow. As the line slowly inched forward, and Emily managed both Elizabeth and our packages to mail, the woman said to my wife:
You know, I may be from what you would call a third world country, but there pregnant women and women with children would never wait in a line such as this. In my country, you would be considered sacred.Now, I understand that the "I hate Casey Anthony" Facebook Page was the fastest growing page last week but does our reverence for the vocation of parenthood extend any further than hitting the "Like" button?
Are mothers in America sacred?
The Catholic Church does not shy from its stance on the importance of parents:
Parents and those who take their place are bound by the obligation and possess the right of educating their offspring. Catholic parents also have the duty and right of choosing those means and institutions through which they can provide more suitably for the Catholic education of their children, according to local circumstances (Can. 793.1).
Furthermore, the Church promotes the family as the primary avenue of the propagation of the faith. Blessed John Paul the Great wrote in his Letter to Families:
Certainly one area in which the family has an irreplaceable role is that of religious education, which enables the family to grow as a "domestic church". Religious education and the catechesis of children make the family a true subject of evangelization and the apostolate within the Church. We are speaking of a right intrinsically linked to the principle of religious liberty. Families, and more specifically parents, are free to choose for their children a particular kind of religious and moral education consonant with their own convictions. Even when they entrust these responsibilities to ecclesiastical institutions or to schools administered by religious personnel, their educational presence ought to continue to be constant and active (16).
Children should learn about Jesus from their parents. This faith should be supported by participation in the Church, not the sole place it is supplied.
Parents are not just important. They are the most important part of Catholic education.
But, how many Catholics have even read this letter? Or, how many, regardless of whether or not this letter was read, even believe that parents and the family play such an integral role in the development of children?
Plato wrote, "A society cultivates whatever is honored there."
Do we honor children? How about families?
Hospitals in America view women in labor as patients. Is giving birth a sickness? Cereal companies, knowing the huge childhood obesity problem in our country, often list sugar or one of its many aliases, as the second most bountiful ingredient- which is okay because they're made with whole grains! Advertisers, regardless of the product, keep in mind our children and strive for brand recognition and loyalty. Television, even "kid-friendly" programs, often contain objectionable material.
But, sex sells, and in a society where money is honored, money is in turn cultivated...at the expense of our children.
ABC News supposedly paid Casey Anthony $200,000.00 for exclusive rights to videos and pictures of her story. Chances are also good that at some point, she will capitalize from this infamy.
Kate (of "Plus 8" fame), sans John, still gets paid for offering up the lives of her children, even though it already cost her her marriage.
Even teachers cultivate money as opposed to children. Despite attempts in many school districts across the country to base teacher salaries on performance, most public systems allow tenured teachers- many of who are burnt out or at best antiquated- to keep their high paying positions regardless of their inadequacy.
Money is honored here and we think that just because we hate Casey Anthony that we can claim to care about and cultivate our kids.
That's like planting a garden in the shade, watering it sparingly with Coke, giving it a shot of Miracle Grow and expecting it to yield a bountiful harvest.
As Catholic educators (teachers and/or parents), we must approach each child we encounter as the sacred gifts that they are. We must realize that (and I've included this before) as teachers we do not "write on inanimate material but on the very spirits of human beings."
In honoring our children, we must do much more than press a "Like" button to voice our displeasure at a bad parent, or add some Miracle Grow to make up for our deficiencies. We must spend less time cultivating our money trees and more time giving some TLC to another abstract arbor: our family trees.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Crawling
On the Thursday prior to Father's Day, upon returning home from work I walked in the front door and Elizabeth, with a huge smile on her face (exposing her two little bottom teeth!), came crawling toward me! The stress of the day immediately melted away, I put my bags down, got down on the floor with her and gave her a gigantic huge and kiss. While I received Father's Day presents on that Sunday, this momentous event would be my favorite. My little girl, so excited to see her Daddy, came crawling to me. And I, in turn, forgot everything else and met my daughter with unabashed joy.
Over the course of that weekend, as well as the past week, I reflected again and again on this occurrence. I thought about how incredible it is that Elizabeth, who can't speak or even move gracefully and with coordination, can express her emotions so clearly. What's more is that I'm even more impressed with her displays of happiness than sadness. She is so excited to see me or Emily. She'll smile. Shake. Squeak. And now come to us- the object of her desire.
Am I so quick to let others know that I love them? As teachers, do we show such emotion toward our students? What about their parents? What about our colleagues?
Another part of my reflection focused on the importance of fatherhood, and in turn parenthood and teacherhood. Elizabeth crawled to me. She'll also follow Emily and me if we move from a room with Elizabeth to a room without her. She'll make noises or movements in the same fashion (somewhat) and motion (again, somewhat) as what we model.
St. John Bosco, the founder of the Salesian order (who devote themselves to working, primarily in schools, with the young and the poor) in one of his famous dreams, recounts the story of the monkeys. To paraphrase his tale, a man wanders into a forest and falls asleep. As he sleeps, a group of monkeys sneak into his campsite and take all of the hats that he has packed. Upon waking in the morning, the man is astonished to see a cadre of monkeys donning his hats. Outraged, he yells and screams for them to give him back his hats. They, in turn, make loud noises. The man then proceeds to jump up and down in frustration. The monkeys do the same. Finally, out of desperation and resignation that his hats are gone forever, the man takes off his hat and throws it to the ground, sits down and pities himself. His reserve of hats then comes showering down upon him.
The Old Testament figure Judith preaches to the rulers of the people of Bethulia, saying, "Therefore, my brothers, let us set an example for our kinsmen. Their lives depend on us, and the defense of the sanctuary, the temple, and the altar rests with us" (Judith 8:24). As parents and teachers, it is imperative that we set an example for our kinsmen/children/students. Their lives truly depend on us- their salvation rests with us.
Makes you think twice about cursing or even showing frustration in front of a kid, right?
Finally, Elizabeth's first time crawling toward me, her earthly father, made me think of how many times in my life I have gone crawling back to my Heavenly Father hoping to be reconciled with Him. Like the prodigal son, I am humbled, especially considering the example I am called to set for both my own daughter and all of those students entrusted to my care at Incarnation, thinking of Elizabeth crawling toward me.
She makes me want to crawl faster, and more often, back to Him. With the strength of the Eucharist and the power of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, I know that I have the tools, if I would just use them, to be the type of dad Elizabeth needs me to be.
She may be the one learning how to move, but in many ways, I am the one who's crawling...
Over the course of that weekend, as well as the past week, I reflected again and again on this occurrence. I thought about how incredible it is that Elizabeth, who can't speak or even move gracefully and with coordination, can express her emotions so clearly. What's more is that I'm even more impressed with her displays of happiness than sadness. She is so excited to see me or Emily. She'll smile. Shake. Squeak. And now come to us- the object of her desire.
Am I so quick to let others know that I love them? As teachers, do we show such emotion toward our students? What about their parents? What about our colleagues?
Another part of my reflection focused on the importance of fatherhood, and in turn parenthood and teacherhood. Elizabeth crawled to me. She'll also follow Emily and me if we move from a room with Elizabeth to a room without her. She'll make noises or movements in the same fashion (somewhat) and motion (again, somewhat) as what we model.
St. John Bosco, the founder of the Salesian order (who devote themselves to working, primarily in schools, with the young and the poor) in one of his famous dreams, recounts the story of the monkeys. To paraphrase his tale, a man wanders into a forest and falls asleep. As he sleeps, a group of monkeys sneak into his campsite and take all of the hats that he has packed. Upon waking in the morning, the man is astonished to see a cadre of monkeys donning his hats. Outraged, he yells and screams for them to give him back his hats. They, in turn, make loud noises. The man then proceeds to jump up and down in frustration. The monkeys do the same. Finally, out of desperation and resignation that his hats are gone forever, the man takes off his hat and throws it to the ground, sits down and pities himself. His reserve of hats then comes showering down upon him.
The Old Testament figure Judith preaches to the rulers of the people of Bethulia, saying, "Therefore, my brothers, let us set an example for our kinsmen. Their lives depend on us, and the defense of the sanctuary, the temple, and the altar rests with us" (Judith 8:24). As parents and teachers, it is imperative that we set an example for our kinsmen/children/students. Their lives truly depend on us- their salvation rests with us.
Makes you think twice about cursing or even showing frustration in front of a kid, right?
Finally, Elizabeth's first time crawling toward me, her earthly father, made me think of how many times in my life I have gone crawling back to my Heavenly Father hoping to be reconciled with Him. Like the prodigal son, I am humbled, especially considering the example I am called to set for both my own daughter and all of those students entrusted to my care at Incarnation, thinking of Elizabeth crawling toward me.
She makes me want to crawl faster, and more often, back to Him. With the strength of the Eucharist and the power of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, I know that I have the tools, if I would just use them, to be the type of dad Elizabeth needs me to be.
She may be the one learning how to move, but in many ways, I am the one who's crawling...
Saturday, June 11, 2011
A Year of Possibility
This past Friday marked the unofficial end of the 2010 - 11 school year, my first as Principal at Incarnation Catholic School in Tampa, FL. While we were finished with students on June 3rd, and teachers only worked on the clock until the 7th, we hosted a Math workshop June 10 for ICS Math teachers. As it was outside of their 190 paid work days, it was not compulsory. Well attended, though, it was.
While not a rousing end to a banner year, it did signal the hope, promise and expectation shared by myself and our teachers about the year ahead. They could have very easily stayed at home and started their summer break. As a school, we could have let the government money used to sponsor this workshop roll back into the hands of bureaucrats.
Championships, however, are won in the off-season.
Very much a forward thinker, I seldom look back to the past with either nostalgia or regret. What does the future hold? How can I bring it to fruition? Do other possibilities exist? How can I open myself to see beyond even these avenues and welcome that which is from God?
While not a rousing end to a banner year, it did signal the hope, promise and expectation shared by myself and our teachers about the year ahead. They could have very easily stayed at home and started their summer break. As a school, we could have let the government money used to sponsor this workshop roll back into the hands of bureaucrats.
Championships, however, are won in the off-season.
Very much a forward thinker, I seldom look back to the past with either nostalgia or regret. What does the future hold? How can I bring it to fruition? Do other possibilities exist? How can I open myself to see beyond even these avenues and welcome that which is from God?
Very much introspective, reflective and prayerful, I tend to spend much time prior to making a decision in thought, reflection and prayer. Doing so allows me to put the outcome of such decisions in the hands of God and rarely spend time in regret. Rarely do I even reminisce. Trust that I'm doing, in a human and imperfect way, what God wants me to do. Pray that He gives me the strength to do it. Keep trying.
But, look to the future. At the very least, focus on the present moment in such an intimate way so as to live in harmony with the only time there is. "Don't stop thinking about tomorrow..." Fleetwood Mac sings, "...don't you look back."
And I typically don't. I loved it when Elizabeth would fall asleep on my chest. I loved being able to sprint and play sports that require quick changes of direction. I even loved being an Assistant Principal. Instead of longing for these pieces of my past, though, and what I no longer have, I choose to focus on what is still to come. The glass isn't just half full, the other half is coming.
But, within a span of 48 hours last week, the first year of my principalship ended, my wife and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary (the best 4 years of my life-- and they just keep getting better!), and one of the most influential people in my life outside of my immediate family and my wife died: Coach Ron Alexander, my wrestling coach at Benedicting High School. "Coach Al" as he was affectionately and respectfully known, taught me so much about not only what it means to be a man of faith ("Cheese and crackers, Michael! What in the ham sandwich are you doing?"-- never once did I ever hear Coach Al swear and he would NEVER use the Lord's name in vain), but also what kind of man I wanted to be. Humble, hardworking, generous, kind, Coach Al made Christ incarnate to me. In me Coach Al saw what few others did, including myself. I'd like to think that he saw me as He sees me. Coach Al challenged me. He encouraged me. He supported me. He loved me.
My retrospection continues. As I thought about the past year, I thought back to that pivotal year half of my life ago. I was 16 and had made the transition from the hard court (basketball) to the grunt and grind of the mat (wrestling). My reasons for quitting just about the only thing I ever quit were numerous. What I learned that year echoes in my mind as I reflect on the many events and lessons of this past one.
Reinvention. The differences between basketball and wrestling are many. Prior to my first day at wrestling practice I thought that I was a good athlete. After that first day of getting twisted into more shapes than a box of rejected pretzels, and being completely exhausted, I realized I had very little endurance, little functional strength and absolutely no idea how to wrestle. I lost 8 matches prior to finally winning one, which, according to Coach Al, was much quicker than even he had expected. I had an enormous drive to learn an entirely new sport (prior to joining the team I had never even seen a wrestling match that didn't start with a W and involve foreign objects), fueled mostly by my desire to please Coach Alexander. I would spend time after practice working on the move covered that day at practice. I would pride myself on running our mile or two-mile warm-up as fast as possible. Climbing a rope once, turned into doing all four of my climbs consecutively. I had to reinvent myself as an athlete and as a person. Thanks to Coach Al, I didn't have to do it alone.
16 years later, I became a first time principal and father within a year. I also had major knee surgery, altering my once-typical workout routine. Reinvention once again, and again, and again.
Risk-taking. As a junior in high school, I took a risk to begin a new sport dominated by life-long wrestlers. Thanks to the tutelage of Coach Al, my gamble paid off. Only two years into the sport and I placed third at sectionals. This confidence to attempt new things empowered me to walk-on to the University of Notre Dame's Football team. The risk I took my junior year, though, was juxtaposed to Coach Al's gigantic arms. He was there to pick me up every time I fell. Had he not been my safety net, I'm not sure I would have gained the confidence to try other new endeavors...like becoming a principal.
This past year was filled with many new tasks. Observing and evaluating teachers. Re-aligning a faculty and staff to stay within budget. Adjusting our tuition scale and parish contribution expectation. Starting a Dads Club. Refreshing a website. Reconnecting a Parish to its School. Revitalizing a mission.
Resolve. After each practice we would, without fail, join in prayer together as a team, and repeat after Coach Al, "Victory doesn't always come (repeat) to the stronger, faster, man (repeat). But sooner or later (repeat), the man who wins (repeat), is the man who thinks he can (repeat). We respect everyone (repeat). We fear no one (repeat)." To this day, those chants ring in my ears, my mind, and my heart. 16 years ago, Coach Al nurtured a flame inside of me that has transitioned from a passion for sports into one for Catholic Education, and dedication to my school and team into a loyalty to my wife and daughter.
Coach Al, thank you for planting seeds of life inside of me that have continued to grow and blossom. So much of my life has been affected and influenced by the lessons taught to me that year.
I don't know what life has in store for me. God only knows the stories I'll be able to tell a year from now, or even 16 years from now.
But, I do know that no matter where I am or what I'll be doing, Coach Al will have, as he has for the past 16 years, played a part.
Thank you, Coach Al. I hope to see you again someday.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Failure is an Option
A commercial from the 1990s displayed NBA legend Michael Jordan narrating all of his stats. But, instead of mentioning his NBA Championships, MVP Awards, Scoring Titles, and All-Star accolades, Jordan rattles off the number of shots he has missed, the number of games he has lost, the number of times he was trusted to take a game winning shot and missed and how failure was a neccesary ingredient in his success.
A very interesting and humbling perspective, even from Air Jordan himself. Somehow, and I know I sound incredibly old in saying this, I can not imagine many of today's starts declaring their shortcomings so openly. I'd even go so far as to say that even Nike no longer wants to tell any of its athletes who they should be or how they should behave...right?
Regardless of the current state of professional athletics (compared to the "Golden Age" of my childhood), Jordan's philosophy on the importance of failure resonated with me back as a teenager and remains with me today. As an educator, I see that a willingness to fail is a trait found in good learners. As the father of a 7 month old daughter, I see this philosophy lived out every day.
With eating under her belt, Elizabeth has shifted her focus to crawling. Able to creep, Elizabeth has not yet mastered the art of moving forward on all fours. Belly flops, rolls, tangled legs and incessant rocking followed by screams and wails have all been a part of her learning-how-to-crawl process. She's close, and will probably be crawling soon, but she probably just needs to fail a few more times so she can figure it out.
In addition to education taking time and effort (see the May 15 post), it also takes a willingness to fail, and in turn, failure itself. So, as educators, we must couple holding students accountable to high academic and moral statnds with loving support, nurturing and care. Right now, Elizabeth has a curiosity and love for exploration that is truly inspiring. She also has a determined spirit, and at this point a blind courage. Failure to eat, crawl or find her pacificer at night (even multiple pacifiers that have been strategically sprinkled in her crib) has not deterred her from trying.
Hopefully, this love for learning and her willingness to take risks will continue into toddler-hood, childhood, adolesence and beyond. Whether it is an unwavering self-confidence or an iron will, the older we get the less likely we are to tackle new challenges. For most of us, at some point in our lives we start to believe the lies of the one who wishes to keep us from becoming who God created us to be. You're not smart enough. You're not pretty/handsome enough. Savvy, strong, well-rounded, disciplined, healthy enough. You're too young. Too old. You're not good enough.
You are a sinner.
And so we stop trying. We stop challenging ourselves and growing. Maybe (and unfortunately) teachers, parents or even friends have reinforced these negative feelings. Maybe the pain of a particular failure, rejection or loss was too deep and the support needed to overcome it too shallow.
And in no longer trying we no longer fail and in turn gain control over the pain. We never have to worry about living down to the disappointment of missing a game winning shot if we always pass to another player, stay on the bench, watch it from the stands or critique it the next day at the water cooler. Playing it safe means we never fail.
It is encumbent upon Catholic educators to kindle the flame inherent in each of us for greatness. We must handle this light with extreme care and caution. The USCCB's Council for Catholic Education states (1998), "Teaching has an extraordinary moral depth and is one of man's most excellent and creative activities, for the teacher does not write on inanimate material but on the very spirits of human beings. The personal relations between teacher and student, therefore, assume an enormous importance."
Catholic educators, approach every day and every student knowing that you affect eternity.
The World already has too many wandering people with extinquished flames.
It has too many people so afraid of failing that they never even try.
It has too many would be saints wallowing in the mud figuring there's no point in getting up- they'll just fall again anyways.
What it needs is more failures, more people who realize that in order to be successful failure is an option.
It's just not the only option.
A very interesting and humbling perspective, even from Air Jordan himself. Somehow, and I know I sound incredibly old in saying this, I can not imagine many of today's starts declaring their shortcomings so openly. I'd even go so far as to say that even Nike no longer wants to tell any of its athletes who they should be or how they should behave...right?
Regardless of the current state of professional athletics (compared to the "Golden Age" of my childhood), Jordan's philosophy on the importance of failure resonated with me back as a teenager and remains with me today. As an educator, I see that a willingness to fail is a trait found in good learners. As the father of a 7 month old daughter, I see this philosophy lived out every day.
With eating under her belt, Elizabeth has shifted her focus to crawling. Able to creep, Elizabeth has not yet mastered the art of moving forward on all fours. Belly flops, rolls, tangled legs and incessant rocking followed by screams and wails have all been a part of her learning-how-to-crawl process. She's close, and will probably be crawling soon, but she probably just needs to fail a few more times so she can figure it out.
In addition to education taking time and effort (see the May 15 post), it also takes a willingness to fail, and in turn, failure itself. So, as educators, we must couple holding students accountable to high academic and moral statnds with loving support, nurturing and care. Right now, Elizabeth has a curiosity and love for exploration that is truly inspiring. She also has a determined spirit, and at this point a blind courage. Failure to eat, crawl or find her pacificer at night (even multiple pacifiers that have been strategically sprinkled in her crib) has not deterred her from trying.
Hopefully, this love for learning and her willingness to take risks will continue into toddler-hood, childhood, adolesence and beyond. Whether it is an unwavering self-confidence or an iron will, the older we get the less likely we are to tackle new challenges. For most of us, at some point in our lives we start to believe the lies of the one who wishes to keep us from becoming who God created us to be. You're not smart enough. You're not pretty/handsome enough. Savvy, strong, well-rounded, disciplined, healthy enough. You're too young. Too old. You're not good enough.
You are a sinner.
And so we stop trying. We stop challenging ourselves and growing. Maybe (and unfortunately) teachers, parents or even friends have reinforced these negative feelings. Maybe the pain of a particular failure, rejection or loss was too deep and the support needed to overcome it too shallow.
And in no longer trying we no longer fail and in turn gain control over the pain. We never have to worry about living down to the disappointment of missing a game winning shot if we always pass to another player, stay on the bench, watch it from the stands or critique it the next day at the water cooler. Playing it safe means we never fail.
It is encumbent upon Catholic educators to kindle the flame inherent in each of us for greatness. We must handle this light with extreme care and caution. The USCCB's Council for Catholic Education states (1998), "Teaching has an extraordinary moral depth and is one of man's most excellent and creative activities, for the teacher does not write on inanimate material but on the very spirits of human beings. The personal relations between teacher and student, therefore, assume an enormous importance."
Catholic educators, approach every day and every student knowing that you affect eternity.
The World already has too many wandering people with extinquished flames.
It has too many people so afraid of failing that they never even try.
It has too many would be saints wallowing in the mud figuring there's no point in getting up- they'll just fall again anyways.
What it needs is more failures, more people who realize that in order to be successful failure is an option.
It's just not the only option.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Get Dirty- You May Just Learn Something
Elizabeth is currently learning how to eat. Starting on her 6th month birthday with rice cereal, we spent the first week watching the food get shoved into her mouth only to have it ooze back out. More would end up on her face, hands, bib, and us than in her belly.
Sensing the need to introduce something more exotic with which to tantalize her taste buds, Emily and I turned to the delectable pea to improve Elizabeth's gastronomic chances. And, for the ensuing week we noticed a change- the color of the food on her face, hands, bib and us.
According to one of the many baby books lining our shelves and being read by my wife, it takes an average of 15 tries before an infant will truly like or dislike a certain food. So, on we pressed. Also recognizing that Elizabeth was fighting two battles, the taste and the technique, we were not discouraged by our collective lack of success. We were just green, literally and figuratively.
And then, after what was our 5th attempt at peas, Elizabeth grabbed the spoon, guided it into her mouth, took the peas off of said spoon, kept said peas in her mouth...and swallowed! Multiple times! Even though our success last Thursday was coupled with an icky face (it's incredible that they are innate) and a few small convulsions, Elizabeth ate just about the entire serving.
As I reflected on how proud I was, I also noticed two educational lessons emerge:
1. Education takes time.
2. Education takes effort.
First, Elizabeth didn't just start eating the first time we tried. Although she had expressed a sincere interest in all things related to food for the past three months, she had absolutely no idea what to do. Despite modeling the proper technique and eating both rice cereal and peas to show her how easily it can be accomplished, it took- and will continue to take- countless times for Elizabeth to actually perfect this technique. Her progression over the course of the past two weeks went something like this:
1. Food being forced into her open mouth and spilling back out.
2. Food being forced into her open mouth via spoon, yet ending up all over via her spitting it back out. Touching the food with her hands and moving her head and closing her mouth so as to stay cereal and pea-free.
3. Elizabeth grabbing for the spoon and guiding the contents all over the kitchen. Wrestling the spoon away from the hand feeding her and using the spoon as a conductor's baton.
4. Elizabeth guiding the spoon into her mouth and the swallowing!
Many, if not all, academic pursuits follow a similar pattern. We don't read sentences, paragraphs, books or even words before we recognize letters and know their many and varied sounds. We can't multiply until we can add. We don't run until we first walk. The expert in anything was once a beginner, and the progression from the former to the latter takes time.
It also takes effort. Education takes a willingness to roll up your sleeves (or don your bib) and get dirty. Education inherently involves mistakes, errors and failures. We test out new concepts, we compare them to ones we've already come to understand. When learning to ride a bike we fall and scrape our elbows and knees. When learning anything we suffer through (if we are to learn it) analogous bumps and bruises and pea-covered clothes. Education is messy and that's okay.
The writing process exemplifies these two educational ingredients: time and effort. Not only does the process and its steps require time, they also demand effort. Even as I've penned this (and yes, I still do some pre-writing planning and organization and even some first drafts by hand) I've made numerous revisions and edits, cross-outs and carrots. Prior to even putting an idea on paper, though, I engaged in thinking and planning. The finished product before you on the screen is similar to, but yet different from, what would be considered my first draft. If it weren't for the mess of my edits and rewrites this final draft would be littered with misspellings (my nimble fingers like to type the as "teh"), split infinitives and even run-on sentences and fragments (actually, I've used a good number of fragments in this blog- sorry). These edits and revisions take time and effort. Sometimes, especially if maximum time and effort are spent, the final draft is completely different than the first. Usually, if not always, this is a good thing and the finished product was time and energy well spent.
Recognizing these two essential components to education can also help us to recognize that learning perseverance and hard work is far more valuable than learning a particular skill or concept. In fact, learning how to roll-up your sleeves and buckle-up for a long, dirty haul can help us to learn just about anything...
...even how to get peas out of clothing.
Sensing the need to introduce something more exotic with which to tantalize her taste buds, Emily and I turned to the delectable pea to improve Elizabeth's gastronomic chances. And, for the ensuing week we noticed a change- the color of the food on her face, hands, bib and us.
According to one of the many baby books lining our shelves and being read by my wife, it takes an average of 15 tries before an infant will truly like or dislike a certain food. So, on we pressed. Also recognizing that Elizabeth was fighting two battles, the taste and the technique, we were not discouraged by our collective lack of success. We were just green, literally and figuratively.
And then, after what was our 5th attempt at peas, Elizabeth grabbed the spoon, guided it into her mouth, took the peas off of said spoon, kept said peas in her mouth...and swallowed! Multiple times! Even though our success last Thursday was coupled with an icky face (it's incredible that they are innate) and a few small convulsions, Elizabeth ate just about the entire serving.
As I reflected on how proud I was, I also noticed two educational lessons emerge:
1. Education takes time.
2. Education takes effort.
First, Elizabeth didn't just start eating the first time we tried. Although she had expressed a sincere interest in all things related to food for the past three months, she had absolutely no idea what to do. Despite modeling the proper technique and eating both rice cereal and peas to show her how easily it can be accomplished, it took- and will continue to take- countless times for Elizabeth to actually perfect this technique. Her progression over the course of the past two weeks went something like this:
1. Food being forced into her open mouth and spilling back out.
2. Food being forced into her open mouth via spoon, yet ending up all over via her spitting it back out. Touching the food with her hands and moving her head and closing her mouth so as to stay cereal and pea-free.
3. Elizabeth grabbing for the spoon and guiding the contents all over the kitchen. Wrestling the spoon away from the hand feeding her and using the spoon as a conductor's baton.
4. Elizabeth guiding the spoon into her mouth and the swallowing!
Many, if not all, academic pursuits follow a similar pattern. We don't read sentences, paragraphs, books or even words before we recognize letters and know their many and varied sounds. We can't multiply until we can add. We don't run until we first walk. The expert in anything was once a beginner, and the progression from the former to the latter takes time.
It also takes effort. Education takes a willingness to roll up your sleeves (or don your bib) and get dirty. Education inherently involves mistakes, errors and failures. We test out new concepts, we compare them to ones we've already come to understand. When learning to ride a bike we fall and scrape our elbows and knees. When learning anything we suffer through (if we are to learn it) analogous bumps and bruises and pea-covered clothes. Education is messy and that's okay.
The writing process exemplifies these two educational ingredients: time and effort. Not only does the process and its steps require time, they also demand effort. Even as I've penned this (and yes, I still do some pre-writing planning and organization and even some first drafts by hand) I've made numerous revisions and edits, cross-outs and carrots. Prior to even putting an idea on paper, though, I engaged in thinking and planning. The finished product before you on the screen is similar to, but yet different from, what would be considered my first draft. If it weren't for the mess of my edits and rewrites this final draft would be littered with misspellings (my nimble fingers like to type the as "teh"), split infinitives and even run-on sentences and fragments (actually, I've used a good number of fragments in this blog- sorry). These edits and revisions take time and effort. Sometimes, especially if maximum time and effort are spent, the final draft is completely different than the first. Usually, if not always, this is a good thing and the finished product was time and energy well spent.
Recognizing these two essential components to education can also help us to recognize that learning perseverance and hard work is far more valuable than learning a particular skill or concept. In fact, learning how to roll-up your sleeves and buckle-up for a long, dirty haul can help us to learn just about anything...
...even how to get peas out of clothing.
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