Guest Blog: Unexpectedly Moved

This edition of The Balcony View is guest written by Jamie Cranston, an aspiring school leader in the All-Iowa Principalship cohort at UNI. Jamie currently serves as an Early Childhood Special Education Teacher and Preschool Site Coordinator for the Newton Community School District.

Setting the Stage:

In early June I attended a special education conference in Des Moines with many of the administrators in my district. This conference was a first time experience for me. I had never attended a conference that focuses only on special education or even one that administrators attend. I am not sure that I have ever even attended a conference where lunch was provided!

While waiting for the conference to begin I was looking at the different options for workshops to attend and mapping out my day. I looked up from my very important work to see a group of special needs students standing at the end of the stage with parents and an instructor. They began moving onto the stage

One or two of the dancers appeared to be extremely confident. Another appeared very shy but was still moving toward her spot. The spotlights drew in and they formed a dance pose with their bodies before the music began. My emotions immediately began to take over as they began to move. There was no mistaking that they loved what they were doing and had practiced many times.

As I sat with a table full of administrators I began to feel very vulnerable Tears filled my eyes.  The girls danced like no one was watching and without a care in the world. I slid my chair a little more so that I was turned more toward the stage (and away from the administrators) to make sure that I could see every move and hide my emotions.

The songs continued and the clincher for me was a solo performed by a young lady. She danced and danced and danced and danced. The instructor didn’t even make a move to guide her off stage or encourage her to stop. The crowd loved her enthusiasm and many were like me-- streaming with tears.

 Instead of interrupting the dance, the instructor guided other dancers out to the middle of the stage to dance along side this confident young lady. One young girl lacked the confidence of her peer, so her instructor simply danced with her. In an instant, she had the confidence that she needed to perform in a room of hundreds.

At this point I had to turn my chair completely toward the stage. The finale came with pulling a variety of male teachers and administrators from the audience to join in the dance. This priceless ending provided for many bursts of laughter through even more tears of emotion.  

The performance ended with a standing ovation. As we gathered our things (and collected myself) one of my administrators said “We need to have something like those dancers.” I instantly agreed and realized that all of the administrators had been as moved as I had been. This was the beginning of something new and the ball began rolling on a project that got me more involved than I could have imagined.

Rolling:

After we returned from the conference, I returned to my hectic life as a teacher, wife, and aspiring school leader. About two weeks later I received an email from one of the administrators. She suggested meeting with the dance teacher in Newton to talk about how we might duplicate the performance we had watched with our own students from our own district.

We met and I gathered lists of Level 2 and 3 special needs students from 2^nd to 12^th graders who usually were unable to participate in many extracurricular activities. After hundreds of phone calls we had a list of eight students who, along with their parents, were committed to participating in a dance program with the high school dance team.

The Purpose:

After countless hours of practice, phone calls and meetings, we performed. Our special dancers were called the Newton Unified Dancers. The Newton Pacesetters (our high school dance squad) joined our Unified Dancers to perform during the opening ceremonies for returning teachers in August.

As the students took their places behind a large black curtain in the high school auditorium, photos of countless practices and  inspirational quotes and our new group's name set the stage. When the students came out from behind the curtain and began dancing their hearts out. Once again, I was taken away with emotion. I couldn’t even look around at staff members to see other reactions due to my crying. In the middle of the performance, each child danced a solo. After the dancers finished their performance fast music came on and all staff members were invited to dance to some fun beats too. We organized a number of staff members to jump on stage and dance and also organized dancers to go into the audience and get people moving.

I have never seen anything like it.

Looking Back:

This experience was incredible. When the students entered the high school stage my emotions surged from exhaustion to excitement…pride in the commitment of the families and students. Love. While I served as a behind the scenes leader for the project, my connection and emotional tie to the project were at the forefront.

There are always going to be things that you would do differently and always things that you can learn from. I have a list of those from this experience but the bottom line is how the students and their families felt. The special dancers loved it and had fun at every rehearsal. They bonded with members of the high school dance squad—girls with whom they would not have otherwise come in contact with in the daily life in a large high school. One high school girl received a gift from a special dancer on the last night of practice. A second grader received a Justin Bieber poster and CD from a member of the high school dance team. One boy with autism, a reluctant dancer, came alive in rehearsals, so long as his sister was with him. As a result, we asked her to participate, which she enthusiastically did.

So what began with me discreetly sliding my chair to avert the eyes of my colleagues out of fear that I would be caught in an emotional moment culminated in something far more powerful. Something deep and inspiring that I will not forget.

I invite you to watch our video, with special dancers in red and dance squad members in black. Tell me you’re not moved. 

Wisdom for Wannabes: Encouragement from a New Principal

Every fall semester, I begin a new journey with aspiring school leaders who quickly have their eyes and minds thrown open by new, sometimes conflicting ideas, possibilities and controversies as they try to understand school leadership from a broad perspective. I call it the balcony view. They probably tire of the phrase.

Inevitably, we spend time talking about how simple and straightforward good school leadership looks from the safety of a comfortable chair, newspaper article, politician’s stump speech, corporate board room, faculty lounge, or classroom or office tucked away in the Ivory Tower. And every fall semester, through those messy and often long-running conversations, I’m encouraged by the passion, level of commitment and desire to do good work I see in our students.

A couple years ago, I asked Tara Estep (@TaraEstep), one of our program graduates and a new principal, to participate in a blogging project with my class of aspiring principals. I knew Tara, who is as good as they come and now the principal at Hansen Elementary School in Cedar Falls, IA, would have a lot to offer, but I didn’t know she would provide me with something I now view as a virtual classic piece of writing for aspiring principals. Every December, I send them out the door with this bit of encouragement from one of the best young principals anywhere. This fall, I’m expanding the circulation of that wisdom by including it here.

Hello everyone! I trust you had a wonderful Thanksgiving with your friends and family!

I had the chance to read through your week 8 reflections. They were great…honest and real. I remember thinking those same things! At the time, I was journaling, and I went back to see what my reflections were. Here are a few things I had written down when I was just beginning my journey…

Am I ready to be an island? Ready for the inevitable loneliness?

Am I ready to create relationships that will never turn into friendships?

Am I ready to transition to the “dark side,” and to forever be looked at differently?

Am I ready to go against the grain and no longer with it?

Am I ready to have everyone’s problems become my problems?

Am I ready to think about 400 kids rather than 25?

Am I ready to walk into the lounge and hear the once bubbling conversation come to an abrupt halt?

Am I ready to be the target…the one to blame…the one that gets judged?

These are important challenges to think about. Many of you had these same themes in your reflections. It’s great to reflect on those challenges, so you have a sense of what you’re getting yourself into. But, many have said it and it’s true…the positives of school leadership far outweigh the negatives. Here is the second half of this journal. I finished it toward the end of my program.

I am ready to be a visionary…to share and develop that vision with my staff.

I am ready to affect positive instructional change and always ask, “Is what we’re doing best for kids?”

I am ready to be involved in positive conversations that move us forward!

I am ready to make informed, research based decisions…I’m ready to make those tough decisions…the ones everyone expects me to make.

I am ready to be a motivator, a leader of learning, and a compassionate ear for kids and staff.

I am ready to be a trusting mentor…one who facilitates, assists, and supports.

I am ready to lead with ethical behavior…to lead by example.

I am ready to instill the importance of teaching: an opportunity to teach young minds, touch young hearts, and make a difference each day.

I am ready to take on the politics…fight for our school, and do everything ethically possible to make sure my teachers have the best resources needed to do their job.

I am ready to be involved with teachers and their learning! I am ready to be a collaborator, a listener, and a sharer of ideas.

I am ready to love my job, hate my job, care too much, work too hard, leave too late, cry, laugh, and scream.

I am ready to make a difference.

Ready or not…here I come.

Although it may feel like you are getting a lot of the “doom and gloom” right now, please know that as a principal you get to do all of the above and more! UNI does a great job to prepare you for all the challenges that are sure to arise, but once I got into the job I was more surprised by the positive outcomes I wasn’t expecting. I was pretty much expecting all the other stuff…Well, maybe not all of it.

Will you ever be prepared enough? No. Does it feel like a blur sometimes? Yes. Is balancing really, really tough? Yep. Are you a target at times? Sure.

I truly believe everyone makes their situation as positive or negative as they want it to be. You stand at the beginning of a journey. This journey will make you think, make you question and, at times, make you want to run out the door, but remember why you started on this path.

Most of you probably started like me; you wanted to make a difference in the lives of children.

You will. 

The Last Exit to Relevance

A smattering of thoughts on the day after:

The Donald got predictably wound up and predictably embarrassed himself on Twitter (and probably elsewhere) as the results came in.  Last night Heavy D went off  about the election being a sham, us not being a democracy, questioning how Obama could win with fewer popular votes.  Never mind that the results now show Obama did receive slightly more of the popular vote. But the best one was the tweet about how "we should fight like hell and stop this great and disgusting injustice. The world is laughing at us."

Actually, no Don. They're laughing at you. Per usual.

Brian Williams on NBC had the walk-off home run here:

"Donald Trump, who has driven well past the last exit to relevance and peered into something closer to irresponsible here, is tweeting tonight."

Last Exit To Relevance. Catchy. Nice title for a blog. Or a band. I would learn an instrument or sing if I could be in that one. Call me.

Regardless of ideology, the next few years are going to be a fascinating for the GOP. Senator Lindsey Graham told The Washington Post a couple of weeks ago that his party was "not generating enough angry white guys to stay in business for the long term."  Results from last night proved him right. Today commentators from both sides of the aisle are talking about the GOP's demographic nightmare. Or Graham's Prophecy.

Romney got smoked in a bunch of key demographics...women, young people, people of color, and so on. That prompted Bill O'Rilley to announce the death of traditional America by recycling  Romney's garbage about half the country wanting everything for nothing. Bill O is right that there is a train pulling out of the station. The country is changing. Last night that train ran over Willard Mitt Romney in a bunch of counties that used to be solidly Republican.  

Romney's train went in an entirely different direction, hard and to the right. Many said it was bound for 1950, in order to secure the nomination. Trouble was, when he collected all the tickets from Cain, Bachmann, Perry, Santorum and the rest of the crew that excites the base, most of the passenger cars were empty. Lindsey's right. 

I've lost track of how many of my Republican friends complain that their party has left them and headed over to Rick Santorum's house and now won't return their calls. 

Speaking of relevance, it looks like Iowa Supreme Court Justice David Wiggins will be retained by about 9 points. That is good news for those of us who were concerned that the judiciary was being auctioned off by Bob VanderPlaats and his out of state fat cats who passed the hat at Santorum's house party. It also appears that Iowans get that politicizing the judiciary is a bad idea.

Relatedly, it appears that voters, not "activist judges," in Maine, Maryland, Minnesota and probably  Washington  have approved same sex marriage. That makes the whole "activist judges" argument a harder one to make. It tells me they understand what the Iowa court meant in the Varnum case when it made the distinction between equal protection under the Constitution, while not requiring anyone's church to condone, conduct, embrace or recognize same sex marriage in a religious context. Twenty years from now--perhaps much sooner--our kids will look back at the fervor around the issue and ask us "What was the big deal?" 

All of this is going to be fun to watch. Who gets do make the call? Wouldn't you love to be sitting in the backseat of Lindsey Graham's Buick when he and his party leaders start arguing about which exit to take? If they choose the one marked "Relevance" and the Democrats get their heads on straight at the same time, maybe just maybe, we can find a way to do something positive that both sides can live with that does some good.

The Cure

A few weeks ago, I jumped into the Panther Car for meetings with aspiring principals and their mentors. Farmers were working, small town windows had been painted for homecoming and, save for the familiar descent into the cesspool that is political advertising, it was a great day to be out.

I had a few excellent meetings with my students, who are spending a large chunk of money and even larger amounts of time and effort learning to be principals. In class and online, we talk extensively about why they want to lead schools, what they have to offer, and their vision for kids' opportunities. They are among the most inquisitive, coachable, intellectually curious people I've met. And it's refreshing.

On my way back to campus, I caught a couple former students who are in their first year as principals on the phone. I heard about the daily trials that are familiar to anyone who has spent time leading schools--working with teachers to develop plans to get off the NCLB naughty lists, efforts to upgrade technology and  teachers' skills, sorting through homecoming pranks, budget problems, curriculum controversies, and a crazy story or ten about a goofy teacher or renegade student. The best part was that all were eager to talk and  said that, as unpredictable as their new job is, they love it because of the opportunities they have to make differences. That's important, because it's hard to love certain parts of being a principal. If you don't believe me, ask one.

Today a doctoral student stopped by my office while on campus with a group of high school juniors and seniors visiting UNI. We had a great conversation about his upcoming dissertation that will explore the school experiences of young African American males who have dropped out of school. It may also involve retrospective accounts of African American males who dropped out of school and are currently incarcerated. We're not sure yet.

I'm good at identifying the things that frustrate (no, maybe something stronger...disgust, perhaps) me most--paperwork, mindless committees, shallow office politics, turf battles, egos, apathy, byzantine decision making processes and incoherence expanding in all directions.  In thinking about it,  I reminded myself of something. All of those things are just distractions--albeit ever-growing ones--that get in the way but have little or nothing to do with the students I teach.

And so as I slog through my interactions with The Committee on Byzantium, get caught in the crossfire in  a new ego-laden turf skirmish, or fall victim to a new policy or initiative devoid of reason or coherence, I have to remember that there is a cure.

And the cure is more time and engagement with students.

Not in My Profession, Not on My Campus

The list of emotions I had when I saw the text about a UNI professor who refused to let a student make up an exam he missed because he was at a National Guard training session is a long one. Blown away. Embarrassed. Outraged. Stunned. Ashamed. I hope there is more to the story because it's wrong on so many levels, it's hard to keep track of them all.

First, it reminds me of how often one lone educator can drag scores of dedicated, sensitive (and sensible, reasonable) people who have devoted their lives to teaching, research and service into the muck. Those decisions make us look like over-educated, self-absorbed, pompous phonies bent on making waves. Or making some kind of point at the expense of a student. Or just plain mistreating people. And it's wrong.

I picture a dual income family somewhere in rural Iowa working hard to pay for Jenny's ever-increasing tuition. Dad is a welder and does some farming. Mom probably works at the bank or Kwik Star.  Jenny works food service and is taking 18 credit hours. I wonder if mom and dad think this is the kind of care kids can expect at UNI. I shudder at what else they must think.

Although Students First was the slogan for a capital campaign several years ago, for many of us it morphed into something that meant a lot more. It became a practical guide for the way we make decisions and weigh priorities. To borrow from K-12, it's another way of asking "What's best for kids?" Decisions like this one make a mockery of that tradition--and of higher education.

After the gut-wrenching events students, faculty, administrators and staff at UNI experienced last year with unprecedented program closures, most people I know were hoping to turn a new page. We were hoping to shine light on the kind of care and student experience that is representative of this great teaching institution. And now this.

You can't measure the positive impact of Ali Farokhmanesh appearing on the cover of Sports Illustrated. Likewise, you can't measure the positive impact professors have made on students lives. We also can't measure the impact of the negative publicity that came with all the tumult of program closures and no confidence votes last year. And we certainly can't measure the impact this decision has on the way people view UNI. And those of us who teach here.

It's exactly the kind of asinine decision making that causes people to lose faith in the institutions around them (see the Wells Fargo firing, the Pentagon's $1000 hammers, and the rest of the lunacy that seems so pervasive in society). This one burns all that much more because we're not talking about a Pentagon hammer. This is someone's life. The student-soldier was drawn to serve his country and  make some  money to pay for school. And this is what he gets?

Like every large organization, UNI has policy manuals chock full of cross-referenced rules and procedures with elaborate language for this sort of thing. Universities are good at that. But cases like this are easy and need not send one to the thick policy manual--Make up the test. Hope the guard drills went well. Thanks for your service. Next, please.

This is not representative of the institution that has been an important part of my life since I was 18. It's not representative of the kind of care I experienced as a student or the way I see faculty and staff routinely going the extra mile for hardworking UNI students from all backgrounds. It's not acceptable in my profession or on my campus.

Where it All Started

Winterset, IA, July 29, 2008. My buddy Brad Jackson decides to show everyone he can still throw me around.

Winterset, IA, July 28, 2012. The dude's still got it. Yeah, and that's still Jeff Olson standing beside us, holding a beer. Might be telling the same joke. Not sure.

Fort Pierce, FL, September 9, 2012. Scott Van Duzer, a Republican, hoists POTUS.

Fort Pierce, FL, September 12, 2012. Scott is at it again, this time with former Florida Governor (and former Republican) Charlie Crist.

I know how this stuff goes viral. My mom said the other day she thinks my boy Brad and I started the whole deal. I'm pretty sure she's right.

The Wells Fargo Crazy Train

So, Wells Fargo agreed to pay $175 million to settle claims that its agents discriminated against minority borrowers. That's where the Wall Street Behemoth shells out crazy bucks to make things go away, without admitting it did anything wrong.

That's the same Wells Fargo that apparently fired Richard Eggers recently. For putting a cardboard dime in a  laundromat washing machine. In 1963. Good God, somebody call Tim Geithner and the Securities and Exchange Commission.

I wonder if the company's $118 million West Des Moines headquarters with a roof garden and pond was put on lock down when it found out about Richard "Cardboard Coin" Eggers. I sure hope so. I wonder if there was a drone watching Eggers lurk around. Maybe they bugged his house. Isn't there a watch list for guys like him?

I've been hard on Senator Chuck Grassley from time to time, but I'll give him credit for saying he's going to investigate what the hell's going on. What's sad is that a United States Senator is now spending time on something that is an absolute joke.

Am I the only one who can see that this is exactly the kind of idiocy that causes people to have zero faith in institutions? 

I blogged about the lack of trust and faith in a host of institutions a while back. The Wells Fargo Secret Police must not have read that one. I'm adding this nonsense to my arsenal of responses to the "Run it (read: schools, government, universities) more like a business" gripe that is so popular.

I'll say it again: No single entity, public or private, religious or secular, entity holds the Holy Grail of intelligence, judgment, decency, or credibility.