The Light Is On For Me

One of the things that my dad always did for me once I was old enough to start driving and had a curfew to which I had to abide by myself was stay up for me. Whether the curfew was 11:00 or 12:00 or even later, my dad would always leave the outside light on for me, an inside light or two as well and he would always be sitting on the couch, most likely sound asleep and snoring loudly enough to wake the entire house upon my return. Sometimes he would actually be awake. Sometimes he would startle as I walked in the door and feign wakefulness. Many times he would stay up with me until I went to bed. He and I shared snacks, conversations, and late night television. His watchdog-esque approach did not end as I entered college, moved to Florida, got married or even had children.

My dad always left a light on for me. He always stayed up (or at least out of bed) to greet me upon my return. He always let me know, more through actions than words, that he loved me.

My dad was always there for me.

Today the Diocese of St. Petersburg offered its annual "The Light Is On For You" night, where every church in the diocese leaves its doors open from 5:00 - 7:00 p.m. and offers the Sacrament of Reconciliation to anyone desiring to celebrate it. Incarnation Catholic Church had a wonderful turnout. At various points throughout the night, there were as many as 20 people waiting to receive this Sacrament. Imagine if this was the norm throughout the diocese and its over 50 churches - this even potentially thousands of people felt an even deeper love than that conveyed by my father to me over the course of my young adult life. Our Heavenly Father was waiting for us this evening, hoping that His sons and daughters would return safely to Him. It is a beautiful image. It is a beautiful Sacrament.

Satan was dealt a beautiful blow this evening.

Isn't it great to play for a Winner?

As Catholic educators, it is important that we embrace this concept of 'leaving the light on' for our students. In the same way that my dad would leave it on for me and in the same way that our diocese left it on for Catholics across our area to celebrate Reconciliation, we need to be present to students in such a way that they know of our love, concern and support for and of them. We need to let them know that we will always have our lights on for them and that we truly care about their struggles, fears, anxieties and problems. 

Students in younger grades who come to us in what seems like a tattling fashion are looking for us to listen to them and then do something on their behalf (even if it is just to talk with the accused). They want to know that their voice was heard. They want to see that our light was on for them to approach us with their issue. 

Older students want adults to do what they say they will do. As they come to a greater sense of self and start to identify their identities, they are juxtaposing what they know of the world with both what they think it should be like as well as who they think they should become. They want adults to leave their lights on by being consistent, by being loyal, by being true to their word and by being noble in their actions. 

The pain of my father's passing is still raw; it is a huge salve to know that my Father's light, just like my father's light always was, is always on for me. Every day. Any time. Always. 

The light is on for me, for you, and it should be for our students. 

Always. 

Dumbphone

I have a dumbphone. The opposite of a smartphone, I received the phone I currently own in 2009, on the day of my graduation from the University of Notre Dame's ACE Leadership Program. In that sense, it holds a bit of nostalgia. In another sense, I am cheap. In yet another sense, I appreciate the fact that I cannot get email unless I'm on a computer or device with internet connection. It helps to limit, as if I couldn't put my own restraints on it, how accessible I am to the outside world.

I am somewhat proud of my dumbphone. I've had it for almost 4 years, and so I have grown somewhat attached to it. It still works. It may take me 29 times as long to draft a text than the average person gifted with smartphone capabilities, but it can send and receive text messages. It can take pictures and videos, and so long as I don't exceed my limit and end up paying what seems like over $1.00 per text, I can actually send and receive those, too. My phone, however, has no apps. It's dumb and not only lacks the knowledge to be able to do so, it also lacks the internal plumbing necessary to support this type of pipe flow.

And, since I'm one of the last people to still have a dinosaur that makes phone calls, maybe they'll put a picture of me and my phone in the dictionary; "dumbphone" was recently added to the Oxford's version as a new word, along with "cruft" (badly designed, unnecessarily complicated, or unwanted code or software), "touchless" (relating to or denoting technology that is operated by means of gestures rather than by touching a control or interface), and "tweetable" (suitable for posting on the social media site Twitter).

The genesis of a new word is fascinating. New words are formed all the time. Think of the circle of your closest friends and how you most likely have a set of vocabulary that an outsider would find incomprehensible or at least somewhat strange. Words are combined with others. They are shortened and used as different parts of speech. Words are given new meanings based on an experience, event or episode. The creation of new words is in many cases spontaneous. The process for a word to gain dictionary-worthy recognition, though, is long and involved and depends almost entirely on usage.

Things like magazines, newspapers, internet sites, and even blogs are checked for new words, new meanings, new spellings and / or inflections. Words are compiled by citations (the number of times it is used) and then those words that are used most often, most consistently and over a long period of time are brought into entry form in a dictionary (for more on the way a word enters a dictionary, click here: new words). 

So, while I may not get included in the dictionary for the possession of a dumbphone, I could potentially originate or at least contribute to a new word getting entered into this resource. One of the great things about language, though, is that even if a word does not appear in the dictionary, so long as it has some sort of contextual reference or basis in known words, an audience can determine its meaning. 

The same is true of "new" words that we encounter that actually are included in a dictionary. We can often decipher meaning through context clues, etymologies, prefixes, suffixes, or even content or genre. Just as skilled writers can manipulate Standard English Grammar to work in their favor, masterful scribes can create new words that a reader can understand with little to no effort.  

The new Common Core State Standards will help students to become better language artists and the emphasis on text will challenge students to communicate more effectively through words. It is an exciting shift that will most likely inspire the formation of many new words, and it will undoubtedly encourage students to enhance and improve their abilities to communicate. 

It may lead to people actually talking on the phone (it's just so hard to adequately communicate via text message). It may lead to people actually composing and sending letters (remember how excited you were the last time you got a handwritten note from someone in the mail). It may even lead to people actually engaging in relationship with each other.    

My dumbphone wonders when they'll make an app for that.  

77x

In the Gospel from today's Celebration of the Eucharist, Peter asks Jesus how many times he is to forgive, “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive him? As many as seven times?” 

Jesus answers, “I say to you, not seven times but seventy-seven times." (Matthew 18: 21 - 22). 

Of course, Jesus responds this way so as to make a point: don't worry about the number, just do what is right. He isn't being literal but rather so over-exaggerated that he is telling Peter to forgive without counting the cost. 

Do what is right. Period. All the time. Every day. Always. All ways. Unremittingly. Unabashedly. 

It is an exhausting call. There is no chance to rest. There are no days off. Being good doesn't take a vacation. Go and make a big difference in the world today, or even in just someone's life, and do it all over again tomorrow. In fact, do even more. Do it even better. Do it for longer. Find another way to do good and do it to the best of your abilities.  You can't store up good deeds: I've met my quota today! Or, I've already done five good things today; I can be mean four times! 

The world of education is very similar. The end of a unit is followed by the beginning of another one. The close of a quarter is met by the opening of another. Even though there is a summer in between school years, the grade levels reset every August. Start all over. Do it again and do it better. Grade a set of papers just to have four more come across your desk. Call a parent just to have another show up at your door. Deal with a disciplinary problem only to have it repeated tomorrow. Look for  a dynamic way to present material only to have to figure out a way to have an absent student get caught up. Matriculate one group of students only to receive another. 

It is an exhausting call. There is no chance to rest. There are no days off (because there is still school even when you're not there). Being an educator doesn't take a vacation - you'll most likely run into one of your student's families! You are always an educator. You are always educating. 

Seven times? Seventy-seven times? Seventy-seven times seventy-seven times.? Try all the time. Every day. Always. All ways. Unremittingly. Unabashedly. 

Educate. Do good. Love. Live.

It's time to begin and continue and never stop. 

Ever.  

PLAY LIKE A CHRISTIAN EVERY DAY

"Do not push too hard with the work, God will take care of everything, and will give you strength to do all that needs to be done.  The rest is in His hands.  Realize yourself to be entirely in His love and His care and worry about nothing.  In these days you should be carried by Him toward your destination, and do what you do more as play than as work, which does not mean that it is not serious: for the most serious thing in the life of a Christian is play."

~Thomas Merton to Jacques Maritain, June 11, 1963

I wish that I could more easily take the advice given by Thomas Merton to Jacques Maritain to heart. While I don't consider myself overly serious, I do feel as though I can too often get wrapped up in striving so hard to accomplish my goals and the work before me that I miss God's hand in it. I get bogged down with the drudgery and miss the joy. I miss the forest for the trees. I move so quickly that I don't even notice the roses, let alone take time to smell them. I forget that the strength to do His will comes from Him. I fail to realize that I am entirely in His love and His care and I too often worry about so much - summer camps and re-registrations and observations and certificates of liability and Iowa Assessments and calendars for next year and being a dad and a husband and a brother and a son and a friend and a Christian. 

I need to approach my work and my life as play more than work. I need to play. 

It's one of the reasons that I love sports and one of the biggest reasons I became an educator: I love to play. Play has the ability to get people to transcend time, worries, anger, stereotypes and even age. Elizabeth can become instant playmates with just about any child willing to engage her. She can do the same thing for what seems to me hours - move sand, color, play doctor, read books, wash dishes, or pretend that baby spider or meow-meow or Doc 'Stuffins or monkey (pronounced 'mumpy') are dancing or eating or checking heartbeats. Bedtimes get eclipsed, short tempers get lengthened, and my days at school seem to fade away while I play with my daughter...well, actually daughters. Catherine loves watching her big sister and she laughs at sneezes and she fishes for smiles from others. So long as she is included in the playing, Catherine seems content. 

Kids have a magnetic attraction for play. They can find it just about anywhere and they seek it all the time. Kids love to smile, laugh, run, climb, dance. They explore. They get dirty. They draw. They imagine. They create. They love. 

Cultivating these attributes while at the same time managing a classroom / school is a delicate balance. Some students aren't mature enough, especially in a group setting, to both play and learn. So, teachers must walk this fine line gingerly. They must teeter between mischievousness and seriousness. The truly masterful teacher does it seamlessly. Their approach is one of excitement and wonder and that translates into their preparation, instruction and assessment. The rookie teacher, however, strives for too many rounds of jeopardy, word searches or back to back battles and misses the substance of things like objectives, formative assessments and time-on-task. Students may "like" the latter but they appreciate and respect the former.

Kids love adults who haven't lost their sense of play yet who still act like adults. Kids love it when as adults we love what they love but ultimately refuse to lower our standards just to win their favor. All people, regardless of age and at some level, love to play. Think about the last time you played. Or danced. Or laughed. It probably felt pretty good and you probably felt, "Why can't I always feel like this?"

I think that's why Jesus used stories to teach. Elizabeth could listen to one of my stories about her and mumpy and meow-meow and baby spider and Baby-Cath (her name for Catherine) for about as long as she could do any of her beloved playtime activities. Stories are playful and whether we're telling one or listening to one or watching one or reading one, we can get wrapped up in them. Stories are one way to remind us to play.    

Play is energizing. Play is therapeutic. Play is fun. Play is divine. 

Make a pledge to yourself to play today. Pretend you're a race car driver on your way to work (pretend, don't actually drive like one!). Sing to the radio. Dance. Smile more than you usually do. Be silly for no apparent reason. Try a new food, or better yet, a weird concoction or mix of foods that shouldn't go together (and then actually eat it!). Play. 

Play like a Christian today and every day. 

Seriously.  

Assessing Assessments

If you were to grade this blog post, by what criteria would you assess it?

Grammar? Content? Entertainment value? Humor (fail)? Theological insights (another fail)? Number of complex vs. run-on vs. fragment sentences (yet another fail)?

Then, once you settled upon the areas in which you would judge this piece of writing, how would you go about actually marking the paper? If I misspelled one word would I lose 10 points? If I use a fragment instead of a complete sentence, will I be deducted the same amount, more or less than a misspelling? How about if I go off onto multiple tangents, talking about my daughters, and maybe my wife, and perhaps even some obscure reference to a book, movie or song, will I move from a "B" down to a "D"?

Finally, what type of feedback would you give me? Would I get a letter at the top of the page with little to no rationale for how / why I achieved that mark? Would there be check marks at various sentences? If merited, would you offer any positive feedback?

Oops, I forgot to have you consider whether your judgement of this blog would be a formative or summative assessment? In other words, is this my final opportunity to get a good grade on this writing or would your comments be prescriptive, helping me to know how to make improvements?

And, how many total points would this be worth? 100? 250? If it's a project would it count for a greater percentage of my total grade than homework?

Finally finally, can I get extra credit?

As you can see, assessment involves, or at least it should, so much more than a subjective, unreliable, and invalid look at students' progress. Much thought, energy, and purpose needs to go into the assessments given to students. Similarly, assessments need to link back to the objectives that were used as the focus of the instruction / learning being assessed. Appropriate feedback must be given to be both descriptive and prescriptive.

To top it all off, students and families should be made aware of the requirements and the way in which assignments will be assessed prior to beginning it.

Think about how unfair your assessment of this blog will most likely be (maybe just and deserved, but still unfair) because I have no idea how you'll be assessing it. In this way, you could be judging me completely on my ability to write as if Mickey Mouse was writing this blog. You could be judging me on my ability to incorporate as many Tom Hanks movies as possible. Either way, or even if it is actually more relevant to writing a blog on Catholic education, if I don't know before actually doing the work how I'll be judged, I have very little chance of doing well.

Imagine if God assessed us without giving us the criteria by which He's judging us. Imagine if He hadn't sent His only Son, to teach us how we're going to be judged. The greatest Teacher was also the greatest assessor. The criteria is clear, His forgiveness is more than formative, He is fair, He is just, and He grades on a pass / fail scale.

As Catholic educators, let us follow His example and insure that our assessments of our students don't leave us any room to need to be assessed by the great Assessor. Let us assess our assessments and make changes, adjustments and refinements in the same way we expect our students to improve over time.

Let us begin; today, and every day as a Catholic educator, is testing day...for us, not our students.

*Please pray for students across the country who will participate in the Iowa Assessments this week: March 4 - 8. 

Identity

This past week, I had the pleasure of meeting a prospective family with two young students. It's always encouraging to meet families that are interested in our school, and I particularly enjoy when they desire to meet with me as part of their discernment process (I would require it anyways, but it's nice when they take the initiative). I appreciate the chance to ask questions of the family, engage the children and assess how well the family aligns with the mission of our school. In many cases, I am asked many questions about test scores, class sizes, textbooks, teacher credentials and other academically related topics. This particular family surprised me by only asking one question. I was even more taken aback by the content of the question:

How strong is your school's Catholic identity?

Wow.

Hearing this was so refreshing. Responding to their question was incredibly humbling. I feel that I keep my priorities regarding my position as a Catholic school principal in proper order: 1. Catholic, 2. School. However, just like with all aspects of our education, I know that we continually fall short of our mission both to challenge each individual to be disciples of Christ and to strive to live out our Catholic faith through service to each other and the community. I know that we will always have good work to do in all areas, but especially in our school's Catholicity. For, I feel that even if we implement all of the right programs regarding our faith, our new challenge would be to keep our school community from feelings of superiority, righteousness, or even resentment toward those not a part of our school.

I am fairly certain I fumbled through my attempt at an answer and I can only hope and pray that my response met the criteria by which this family was judging our school. I really hope and pray that it does because of how wonderful it would be to have another family that uses this as its measuring stick.

This family revealed their identity to me through this poignantly simple question. I hope that I was able to reveal both mine and our school's and that it wasn't found lacking.

As Catholic schools, our identities should be so much more than strong academic schools. They should be so much more than places for the elite to gather and keep those with weaker minds, emptier pockets and / or troubled pasts in other locations. Our Catholic schools should resemble our Catholic Church - holy, catholic and apostolic. The education provided should be in the Catholic faith and through the Catholic faith.

Our schools should be unabashedly Catholic and we should couple this intense focus on our faith with a passionate desire to educate our children in the best possible way. God has given us both faith and intellects and the synergy that results from their marriage should be the goal of every Catholic school.

Students, as they grow and mature, are developing a sense of self. They become more and more independent and form bits and pieces of their identities as they matriculate from one grade level to the next.

They are becoming who God created them to be.

As Catholic schools, we need to help students identify who that is and then support them in the formation of this identity.

It's time for Catholic schools to identify what God created them to be and then work like mad to make that their identity.

And they'll know we are Catholic schools by our love, by our love.

Yes, it's time to begin.

Just Say No

Pope Benedict XVI is in my prayers today. He'll be in my prayers for quite some time as my heart goes out to him, not in a way that I pity him or feel bad for him, but because I am so impressed by the courage of his recently unprecedented decision to retire from being the Pope.

One of the hardest things to do is say no. Most of us are overcommitted and we rush from one thing to another, taking on one task and responsibility after another. I am definitely guilty of saying yes to too many duties. In many ways, even though I think I do a pretty good job at compartmentalizing, I work too much, too long and too hard. "Too little butter on too much bread," as Bilbo Baggins would say.

So, I am impressed by people who set clear boundaries regarding their commitments and keep to them. I have great admiration, especially for those in positions of authority and/or who have a solid work ethic, who refuse opportunities. I respect those who set and see realistic expectations as to what they can accomplish effectively.

It's been hundreds of years since a Pope retired. Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI had the conviction to make the decision to retire, though, despite not having anyone in recent history to imitate or use as a model.

He needed humility. It's tough for us to resist power, authority, fame, influence, recognition.

He needed faith. Faith that he is continuing to follow what he believes to be God's will for his life.

It's a lesson that I hope to take to heart. I know my wife, children and even my school would benefit from me being a part of one less committee, program, or group. Stripping things down to what's most important and doing those things well would be quite refreshing. Mirroring the shift coming with the Common Core State Standards, I would be doing less things but doing those that I deem worthy of my time with greater depth, involvement and intentionality.

It's a lesson I hope families and students can learn, too. It is amazing how many activities students participate in after school on a weekly basis. From baseball, to dance, to tutoring, to karate, to piano our students are overextended. Family meals, weekly attendance at mass, spending time at home together talking, reading or getting to bed on time often take a back seat to being uber involved in as many things as possible.

Stay in your lane.

Know your role.

Just say no.

Let us use Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI as a model and let us pare down our lives to be able to spend more of them in prayer, reading, writing, reflection and spiritual growth.

Let us take advantage of this momentous occasion in our Church to teach kids to have the courage, conviction, faith and humility to just say no.