School Administration Is Not For Me

 For most people,

A graduate degree is a career step forward—

A way to move up the ladder—

A way to make more money.

For me?

I am doing the exact same thing that I did when I graduated with my undergraduate degree—

I’m just a lot better at it—

And I’m making about the same amount of money as I did when I started—

But that’s a different post—

And I have TWO graduate degrees.

 

No doubt, my Divinity School experience grew and changed me as a person.

They were some of the most formative years of my life.

But my Master of School Administration?

I have no idea what it did for me except provide me with a lot of good memories

And a different perspective on school administration—

Which, I have determined, is not for me.

 

It’s a thankless job, really—

School administration—

Always dealing with complaints—

From parents, teachers, students, school board members, and the community—

Always dealing with discipline issues—

Always putting out fires—

Trying to lead with vision but being weighed down so heavily that you can barely see.

 

Maybe that’s why

A few weeks ago during the prayers of the people,

I felt compelled to pray for my administrators.

The urgency hit me like a wave and washed over me until I was saying their names.

 

You need to know that I have amazing school administrators.

I can only begin to know what all they deal with on any given day—

And that’s just at work.

They have lives outside of school as well.

So this urgency to pray?

Well…It’s the least I can do.

No…Actually…it’s the most I can do.

To lay down my life for others in prayer.

 

So I’m going to ask you to join me in praying for your school administrators.

And if you don’t teach, or have students in school,

Then I’m still going to ask you to pray for school administrators,

And teachers,

And school board members,

And politicians who affect schools in ways they don’t even know.

Public schools are under attack in ways that I won’t go into here.

We need good people.

Yet we are losing them every day.

 

God: Thank you for guiding me to a place with leaders who care for others and lead with trust and encouragement rather than micro-management and hand-slaps. Be with them now. Grant them wisdom, strength, stamina, courage, and the vision to lead us forward. Renew and refresh their spirits and give them happiness and contentment in their lives and work. Be with teachers who have difficult administration. Be with administrators who lead out of intimidation and fear and help them to see alternative ways. Transform lives and modify ways so that love and respect are modeled for all.

 

Amen. 

This Is The Educational Me

Well, folks. If for some odd reason you’ve ever wondered about the educational beliefs that drive me, wonder no more. Here they are...

But before I post, I must say this: I’ve spent a lot of time over the past couple of weeks hammering out this “Leadership Framework.” I completed the assignment for a graduate school class, but I found myself struggling to focus solely on my work in the schools because church life is so important to me. In fact, Christian Education was my focus during my years in divinity school. And that’s where the tension lies. When I was in divinity school, I struggled to focus solely on my work in church because school life is so important to me. In both graduate degree programs, I have found my heart split...and trying to apply my learning to more than just what the courses are supposed to prepare me for.

Several people have asked me recently what I plan to do when I finish my current graduate degree. I find myself honestly responding, “I have no idea. I know I’m supposed to be doing the program, but I have no idea what I’m going to do with the degree.” And I don’t. But I’m hashing out my passions and beliefs and praying that God will reveal the way. I’m not overly concerned. But I am glad to be finished with this assignment :-).

Philosophy of Education
I believe that education begins when we are born and ends when we die. Whether the learning is ours or the persons’ around us, and whether it is mental, physical, spiritual, or emotional, education is what happens each time we are exposed to something new and forced to do something with or about it. I believe that education is a process. It is continuous. It does not always begin and end with concept introduction, rather it is more often grown with time, intention, and experience. Education is formal in schools and churches. Education is informal in homes and relationships. I believe that education is trying, falling down, getting up, and trying again. Education is learning to walk and then acquiring the stamina to use the skill for good.

Philosophy of Leadership
I believe that leadership is the person or group of persons who lead whatever or whomever is being led. I believe that strong leadership is the person or persons willing to lead by humble, active example. I believe that leaders should lead with purpose and integrity, out of a sense of personal calling, and that leadership’s purpose should not be personal gain but organizational, group, and individual progress. I believe that strong leadership fosters success through relevant feedback, timely encouragement, wise decisions, difficult conversations, and a growth mindset for both itself and those being led. As a result, strong leadership creates thriving, healthy, positive, and growing organizations, groups, or individuals.

Vision for Learners
Learners learn in a variety of ways (musical-rhythmic, visual-spatial, verbal-linguistic, logical-mathematical, bodily-kinesthetic, interpersonal, intrapersonal, naturalistic, and existential) and at varying speeds and will be given the time, space, and opportunity to do so. Furthermore, learners will gain relevant, practical skills and knowledge to help them live as healthy individuals who make positive contributions to society.

Vision for Teachers
Teachers are experts in educational and developmental theory, practice, and learning. Life-long learners themselves, teachers will be knowledgeable of their content area and how to relate it to learners’ lives. Teachers will enjoy working with students and peers and be both leaders and team players as needed to foster a positive, safe, and healthy learning environment.

Vision for the Organization
The educational organization makes formal education possible. The educational organization will:
• Provide not only a safe, well-maintained building and recreational space but also a safe, orderly learning environment;
• Seek to be sustainable and environmentally responsible whenever possible;
• Supply both the technological and non-technological tools needed for learning and make those tools available and accessible to students and teachers alike;
• Create a positive organizational culture and climate by planning and investing in ongoing community partnerships and promoting healthy lifestyles by providing physical and emotional support systems for students, parents, and teachers;
• Center all actions and activities on shared goals and values;
• Celebrate accomplishments both big and small.

Vision for the Professional Growth
Professional growth is the cornerstone for professional success. Professional growth will:
• Be ongoing and provide opportunities not only for strengthening content knowledge and work effectiveness but also for strengthening self-awareness and intra- and inter-personal communication and understanding;
• Be relevant and meaningful and lead to proactive change in thought and/or action;
• Be a combination of what all stakeholders need to know to be on the same page and what individual stakeholders desire to know to be stronger and more effective in areas identified as strengths and/or weaknesses;
• Occur in the regular work environment and at special trainings.

Method of Vision Attainment
Attaining any vision or goal takes time, determination, focus, and patience. Vision attainment is a journey filled with ups and downs, successes and failures, bumps and bruises, efficient pathways and unexpected detours, and long hours of listening and allowing others to help navigate and lead. I plan to attain my visions by bunkering down for the journey, enjoying the ride with whomever I meet along the way, and doing everything I can to leave the wake of my path better than it was before I walked it.

Blind Inspiration

“Welcome to Stacey B. and Deanna!”

I chucked when I read that statement on the white board last Thursday night. Stacey and I had gone to speak to this semester’s Special Needs class at Campbell and the professor had welcomed us with those words. I felt a bit like a rock-star with the one word name, but I made sure to let the class know that, despite my rock-star looks, I wasn’t actually a rock-star. I was, instead, just an elementary music teacher serving as chauffer to the guest of honor for the night: a vision impaired teaching hero.

I wrote about my adventures with Stacey after she helped me with a presentation last semester. That night, we went to the Walmart and Stacey amazed me with her knowledge of the store. She has the aisles memorized. This past Thursday night, however, we simply went out to eat. I took her to the local Mexican restaurant and we had a delicious meal together. Like last semester, we had a great time, and I went to bed that night with a deeper respect for someone for whom I already had great respect.

For Stacey, not being able to see is normal. Born prematurely, she received too much oxygen in the incubator that saved her life but left her blind. When her twin sister began reaching for things and tracking objects with her eyes, Stacey did not. It was then that her parents realized that something was wrong and that her parents decided that they would be her biggest advocate. When schools told them that they could not teach Stacey because she was blind, Stacey’s parents said, “Yes you will.” Stacey went to “regular” public schools her entire life, then proceeded to a “regular” college, and then earned her master’s degree from a “regular” university. When others were out partying, Stacey was scanning pages of textbooks so that her computer could read them to her. When others were skimming hundreds of pages of reading, Stacey was listening to them all—unable to skim without the ability to see—listening as fast as she could but still being limited by the speed of the computer.

Stacey has a “regular” teaching degree. She did her student teaching in “regular” elementary school classroom, but she has chosen to teach vision impaired students the technological and life skills that they need to succeed in the world. No doubt, current technology makes things a bit less complicated for students today, yet things are still not nearly as easy as they are for those of us who can see.

Take, for instance, eating. While preparing for last Thursday night’s class, Stacey and I decided that it would be fun to ask the students to eat cake off of a small place. Stacey confessed that this is always difficult—especially in places where you are often expected to stand—like wedding receptions and other celebratory events. Stacey made the cake and provided the forks. The professor provided the plates and napkins. The students in class all struggled to get the cake on their forks and get the forks to their mouths without making a mess. They said they felt helpless, frustrated, and overwhelmed. I caught myself wanting to cheat—and I caught myself thinking, “I’ll just wait to finish my piece of cake when I can see again—because then it won’t be so hard and messy.”

For Stacey, eating without seeing has been her life’s reality. So is it more difficult for a seeing person to suddenly take away her sense of sight and expect her to be successful at a task? Maybe so. But the lesson was real nonetheless: There are so many things we take for granted.

Driving. Walking freely. Reading the directions on the side of the cake box. Reading a menu. Seeing in color. Seeing the face of a loved one. Seeing the crinkly little feet of a newborn baby. Dreaming in color. Watching a movie. Watching a game. Being able to avoid running over your dad who is working on the lawnmower in the yard while you are riding your bike (this is one of my favorite stories from Stacey’s childhood—she forgot that he was working in the yard and rode her bike right over him!)

Again, for Stacey, not being able to see is what she has always known. She has learned to live her life in such a way that she sees everything she needs to see. She would never want anyone to feel sorry for her or treat her any differently than we would treat a non-vision-impaired person. And yet…I must admit that Stacey inspires me…and she challenges me not to take the simplest things in life for granted…not even the knowledge of knowing that there is food on my fork when I place it in my mouth.

Who is someone who inspires you and challenges you to life to the fullest? Make sure you tell him/her thank you today.

A Trip To The Walmart

I skipped my Thursday post again last week. I was out for a night on the town with my friend Stacey.

Stacey is blind. She was my guest speaker in my special needs class that night. After class, as we were heading home, Stacey and I decided that neither of us wanted to cook when we got home. First Friday was last Friday. Stacey and I were both supposed to take desserts or sweets. After working all day and sitting in class that night, we didn’t have baking in us. So we went to the Walmart.

Going to the Walmart with someone who is blind is interesting. As I searched the clearance aisle for good finds, I found myself saying, “Look at this!” Then I remembered that Stacey couldn’t see with her eyes, so I put the item in Stacey’s hands so that she could see with her hands. The most interesting of these finds was a huge mouse trap. I triple checked to make sure the trap wasn’t going to go off when I gave it to Stacey to see. It didn’t. And she agreed that it was a huge mouse trap! Don’t worry. I didn’t buy it.

After we’d walked the aisles of the Walmart—that Stacey had memorized—and found everything we needed to provide proper desserts and sweets for Friday—including a fruit cake—we went to the checkout line. I wish I could have recorded the people behind me as they watched Stacey in the checkout line. True to form, she did everything herself—unloaded her cart—stacked it on the conveyor belt—separated her stuff from mine—and paid with her card. The paying part was what got the onlookers. Without seeing a thing with her eyes, Stacey got out her card, put the chip into the reader, and completed her transaction. The people behind me just watched. She didn’t have to sign her name on Thursday night. I asked what she’d have done had she had to sign her name. She said that she’d have just tried to get an S on the screen and then scribble everything else. I told her that I basically did the same thing—just put a D and scribbled the rest of my name on a screen.

“Miss D, we need to do this more often,” announced Stacey as we made the final leg of our journey. I agreed. And the next time we hang out, I’ll feel more comfortable leading Stacey to the passenger side of my car and I’ll remember to describe the weird things I’m seeing as I drive instead of saying, “What is that?!”

There are people in this world who inspire us simply by being themselves. Stacey is one of those people to me.

One Of Those Days

Today was not my best day. Actually, Thursdays in general are tough. I begin and end my days with challenging classes and the ones in between aren’t always easy. Sometimes it’s okay. Sometimes it bothers me. Today it bothered me. I felt like students not following directions and students being disrespectful was not part of a larger system or pattern of behavior but single-handedly my fault.

Today, I kept hearing professors and workshop presenters say that if kids are consistently “acting up” then it’s up to the teacher to change something in what he/she is doing—because the lessons must not be good enough or the rules not clear enough or the discipline not consistent enough.
And I kept thinking, “This must be my fault. Ms. X can keep them quiet. They seem to respect her. They must not respect me. Class must be boring. I guess I really am a boring music teacher.”

On other days, I hear professors and workshop presenters say that perfectly still silence does not always equal learning. I hear them affirming that kids learn through movement, discussion, and singing and I know that my classes are full of students with special needs and that students with special needs need special considerations. I know that I’m a reflective teacher. I know that I care about my kids. I know that my kids—at least most of them—know that I care about them. I know that what happens in my 40 minutes per week with my students is directly affected by what happens in their classrooms—that their classroom teacher’s discipline structure (or lack thereof) influences their behavior everywhere else in the school. I have watched this reality play out for 13 years.

But today wasn’t one of those days.

I know that I’m weary. I know that no amount of work seems to get me caught up with the stuff I need to do for school, church, or graduate school—not to mention the things that I want to do with my friends and family. I know that I am beyond burdened by some of my students’ lives. Kids are being exposed to perverted, harmful, and dangerous situations younger and younger and I just want to scream at a society that is so broken that on one hand it encourages children to believe that adults are stupid and that they are entitled to anything they want but on the other hand ignores children or treats them as disposable toys. I know that these factors contributed to the negative self talk that planted itself in my head this morning as I watched a challenging child roll onto the floor, put his arms in his shirt, and attempt to do the worm with the rest of his body while the rest of the class watched the distraction. Nothing could make him get up. Nothing could keep the rest of the class focused. And nothing could keep me from thinking, “Is this my fault? This must be my fault. I must not be strict enough.”

Last night, as I was anticipating this day, I updated the serenity prayer. I posted it in my status on Facebook, but I want to include it at the bottom of this note. Because maybe you aren’t a teacher, but maybe you work a job or have a family situation in which you sometimes feel helpless. Maybe you have tried the things you know to try but maybe they just aren’t working. And maybe your self-talk gets pretty negative, too, and maybe on days like today it leaves you feeling so very defeated. So maybe you need to rewrite this prayer for yourself. And maybe together if we keep praying, a loving, steady, just God will put all things in order—even if it’s only within our own minds, hearts, and souls.

God grant me the serenity to accept the students I cannot change;
The courage to influence those whom I can;
And the wisdom to know the difference.
Teaching one lesson at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting disrespectful and overly talkative classes as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world full of broken people
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that You can and will make all things right
if I surrender to Love--
That I may be reasonably happy with my life's work
and supremely happy with You forever in the next.
Amen.

Today Is Enough

I usually stay after class on Monday and Thursday nights to either do homework or work on these notes. I like having an academic space to myself. It’s peaceful and makes me feel very scholarly, not to mention it doesn’t allow me to climb into my bed and sleep. Tonight, however, I knew that staying after class was not an option. I accidently left my travel charger at church, so when Willard’s battery ran down toward the end of class, Willard was out of commission until I got home. So…I went to dinner with a friend I hadn’t seen in awhile, and it was nice—sitting, eating, talking, catching up.

As I thought about this unusual Thursday night meal on the way home tonight, I thought back to the note I wrote a few weeks ago about showing up. I thought about how extremely important relationships are and how essential it is to make time for them. I thought about how grateful I was to find myself without a computer charger on the same day that thoughts of cinnamon flavored coffee prompted me to write my friend who is allergic to cinnamon and make plans to have a late, cinnamon-free dinner. And then I found myself thinking about a couple of my students who made my heart swell with pride this afternoon.

I’ve heard a lot of really difficult things this week. In context of Red Ribbon Week, I’ve listened to stories of bullying and drug use that have left me feeling sad. So this afternoon, when I watched two of my students who started the year giving me nothing but attitude and trouble doing their best to pay attention and listen while a good portion of the rest of their class acted as if I wasn’t even there, I found myself feeling a small amount of joy. These two students were part of a group of students who I’d asked to do an alternative music assignment in a separate setting one week. Instead of filing away their written work as busy work, I decided to read it carefully and write encouraging, interactive comments on their papers. I returned their papers to them and wondered if the comments had made a difference.

I don’t know if it was the comments, or a conscious decision on my part to more intentionally try to show loving-kindness, or an attitude shift in my heart that helped me remember that even my toughest kids are still just kids, or if it was my deliberately speaking to these particular students each morning and calling them over for the hugs that many other students daily seek out…but something seems to have shifted in the students about which I speak, and they have actually started to show an interest in music—which is something they had not done in three years—and a respect for me as their teacher—which is something they hadn’t done either.

After class, I called over one of the students and asked, point blank, what had caused the behavior change. “I got suspended because of how I had been acting, and I don’t want to get suspended again.” Part of this student’s suspension was because of behaviors in my class. I guess the suspension served its purpose…yet I have to believe that something more has shifted inside this student. Either way, I gently placed my hands on the students’ shoulders and spoke aloud how proud I was of the change—how proud I was that I was finally able to see the goodness that I knew was there. As I spoke, my eyes filled with tears that I quickly denied when another student said, “Are you crying?!”

A friend once told me that her job as a residential social worker was to love the hell out of her clients. I immediately took the phrase to heart and decided to make that one of my goals as a teacher. And guess what, friends? I’m learning—really learning—that the only way to truly do this is through relationships. And I’m being reminded that relationships take time—sometimes even years—to grow to the place where walls begin to come down and trust begins to peak through. My cinnamon-averse friend and I had to work to that place of trust. But we arrived. And had a good dinner tonight. Maybe some of my students and I are arriving, too? Or if nothing else, we arrived today. And for now, today is enough.

Communicate Love

“You all are a whole lot more stressed than I am. Then again, I have the plan in my head and you don’t.”

I heard those words come out of my mouth at the exact moment I saw the word OVERCOMMUNICATE flash before my eyes. Just before going to church to lead the music at a missions celebration, I had read a paragraph about the importance of communication in leadership.

There I was, the music minister, trying to get the choir ready to sing, yet I hadn’t even communicated with my mom, the accompanist, about the exact order of songs that we were going to sing.

And why hadn’t I done this? Because I hadn’t even communicated the final decision to myself.

I have a lot of blank books. I’m afraid to write in them. I don’t want to mess up the pages.

For years, I wouldn’t write down my lesson plans until after I’d taught them. I was afraid that my plan would go wrong.

When I was doing a lot of concerts, I often started the concerts without having a set playlist. I had an idea. But I was afraid I’d have a new idea mid-concert and then feel stuck.

I like to have a plan. But I like to be able to change the plan to fit the exact moment that it is executed.

Which…isn’t always good when working with a group.

The statement that I made at the beginning of this post was very true. My choir was stressed about what they were getting ready to do, but I wasn’t worried. I knew that they could—and would—sing well and sing the right songs at the right time—but they didn’t know it because I hadn’t communicated it to them. I had told them bits of pieces of information—each of which escaped my mouth as a plan entered my brain—but the plan hadn’t come together in their minds.

So…I started at the beginning, went step by step, laid out the plan, got everyone on the “same sheet of music” (literally), prayed, and then we went into the sanctuary and sang as well as we’d ever sung.

Lest I not communicate this properly: I am proud of my choir. I am proud to work with my choir. I believe in my choir. And I never doubt my choir—even when they doubt themselves.

I will work on my communication skills both at church and school. I will work to be a better professional leader. But I think I’ll also work to be a better communicator of appreciation, thanksgiving, and kindness. I hope you’ll join me. And I hope that together we’ll over-communicate love.

AIG Egg Beater

Because of the aftermath of Hurricane Matthew, we may not have another teacher workday this year. That being said, I’ve been doing everything I can do to utilize these days. So far, my days have been spent organizing responsibilities outside of my classroom. Yesterday, I worked to organize our school-wide writing challenge and classroom incentive plan. Today, I worked on a promotional brochure for the school, wrote a lot of e-mails, discussed our school improvement plan, and did quite a bit of research on AIG. AIG is an area that I don’t know a lot about, and it’s an area for which I have chosen to do a project for my classes at Campbell.

AIG: Academically and Intellectually Gifted.
Formerly AG: Academically Gifted.
Formerly GT: Gifted and Talented.

Growing up, I was labeled as Gifted and Talented. I have two memories relating specifically to this label.

1) In elementary school (sometime between 4th and 8th grades), my friends and I were pulled for a GT class. It was cold in the trailer where we went for class and for some reason the teacher left us alone for a few minutes. While she was gone, my friends and I found an old fashioned egg beater/hand mixer—the kind that you crank by hand. Naturally, my friends and I chased each other around the trailer trying to attack each other with the egg beater.

2) Governor’s School. Because of my GT label, I was able to go to Governor’s School. I went for six weeks during the summer after my sophomore year. That summer was life-changing in many ways, not the least of which was introducing me to my horn instructor that would eventually lead me to Meredith College. That summer was the also the first time that I truly understood that there were people my age who were not Christian and had not grown up influenced by Christian belief.

So even though I benefited from the GT label, I have only those memories of the program, and while I know that the program has changed a lot over the years—which is subtly shown in the name changes—I don’t know a lot about what has changed—or what was even there in the first place! GT was bound to be more than an egg-beater chase!

Hence the project.

I got to choose from four categories: Limited English Proficient, Behaviorally Challenged, Poverty, or AIG. I was undecided between the last three categories until the sign-up sheet came to me. I was last to sign the sheet, and no one else had signed up for AIG, so AIG it was. I deal with the effects of challenging behaviors and poverty every day. In fact, I deal with them so much that I don’t even know where to begin to do a specific project. But AIG is something I can learn about and do. I think. So I will try.

Part of my job is to figure out how to see and teach all of my students because all of my students are worth it. Highest, lowest, and everything in between. Maybe I should get an egg beater, though, just in case.

How Full Is Your Bucket?

A few years ago, I went to a one-day training on The Five Love Languages. I have led staff trainings on the love languages and included a ranking system on my school’s secret pal forms each year. I truly believe in the love languages and know exactly what I need for my “love tank” to be filled—words of affirmation and physical touch. I also know exactly what I don’t need—exactly what shuts me down: negative words.

A few days ago, I finished reading the book How Full Is Your Bucket? for class. It reminds me of the concept of filling the love tank in The Five Love Languages. In fact, I wonder if one influenced the other. Either way, this book got to me. Clear, simple, and direct, the book was a perfectly-timed reminder that if anything is going to change in this world then it is going to have to come from a place of positive emotion.

Today’s culture is one of negativity—of nit-picking—of making rules because personal aesthetic has been upset. Daily interactions and activity tend to be more bucket draining than filling. And not just for the adults. For kids as well.

I teach over 700 kids each week. Sometimes, some of those over 700 students push the boundaries a little too far. I must confess, though, when I give my boundary-pushing students written alternate assignments, I usually do not return their papers; I sometimes don’t even get a chance to read them. I usually file them away in a folder entitled “discipline” in case I need to return to them one day.

Recently, on a morning when I was feeling a bit discouraged and my bucket was rather empty (in the language of the book I just read), I looked at a stack of papers that some boundary-pushing students had completed the day before. In that moment, I thought, “I hope these kids never feel like I feel right now. But I bet they do. I bet that their buckets stay close to empty. Maybe I should start trying to more intentionally fill my students’ buckets.”

So I put the rest of my to-do list on hold for a moment, took out a pen, and wrote positive comments on my students’ papers. I found ways to compliment their work. I agreed with comments and asked curious questions about answers. In so many words, I let them know that while I didn’t approve of the actions that led to the alternate assignment, I did approve of them. I let them know that I was interested in their thoughts. And then I found the students and returned their papers. I have no idea if my comments meant anything to my students or not. But the sheer act of writing the comments helped me fill my own bucket just a bit…if that’s even possible…and it helped me have a much more positive day.

On the first awards day of my first year at my school, my principal asked me to “sing a little song.” I didn’t have a little song to sing, so I wrote one. I wrote one about the school and what I thought we could be. When I finished singing that morning, teachers had tears in their eyes as they stood and clapped. “You have no idea how long we’ve needed to hear something positive,” they later said. “Thank you.” I had unknowingly added drops to their buckets. Teaching is hard work.

That year, I made it my goal to do whatever I could do to increase staff morale—to keep adding drops to buckets. I have continued that goal into my fourth year at my school—organizing treat days and First Friday events off campus, coordinating Secret Pals, providing daily coffee/tea, working to keep the workroom clean, listening to teachers whenever they need to talk.

Tomorrow is our first treat day of the year. Even though the hurricane is going to cut our educational day short, we’re still going to have treats. Treat days are some of my favorite days. Sometimes simple things like food nourish the soul. Sometimes free drinks literally add drops to the bucket.

I am an encourager. I know this. It is one of my top spiritual gifts. And what I’ve realized after reading How Full Is Your Bucket? is that even though I sometimes find myself very discouraged, I must continue to find ways to encourage the people around me—especially my colleagues and students—even when it is hard and my bucket is next to empty.

What book have you read that has challenged you lately? What life-altering things have you been learning? What things have you been doing to add drops to people’s buckets?

15 Minutes At A Time

I got to campus early tonight. Starbucks is currently selling the delicious chile mocha, and I was craving one after a long (but decent) day of teaching.

I had a plan. I would drop off my stuff in the classroom, walk to Starbucks to get my coffee, and then go back to the classroom to take stock of where I was with my assignments.

On my way to dropping of my stuff, though, I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in a couple of months. After hugs, we stood and talked for about 15 minutes.

As I was talking to her, I saw my former college minister and mentor whom I hadn’t seen in years! She was on campus for a special event and I happened to be standing near her car as she prepared to leave. After hugs, we stood and talked for about 15 minutes.

It was so great to catch up with both of those friends.

After dropping off my things, I bumped into a classmate who had also arrived early. She had had a family emergency last week and needed to share the details of what had transpired. For about 15 minutes, I listened as she shared how God had worked in her family’s life. Empty Starbucks cup staring at me, I silently reminded myself that this was more important than coffee—that these are the moments where life happens.

Once finished giving testimony to God’s hand in her life, my classmate asked where she could find the library reserves. I told her I’d be happy to show her because…well…they are very close to Starbucks.

So we walked to Starbucks. And I got my iced chile mocha. And as we were leaving, another classmate walked in. I greeted her with open arms. We waited with her until her drink had been made. All-in-all, I was in Starbucks for about 15 minutes—talking up a storm to my classmates and the baristas.

We got to class with about 15 minutes to spare. I didn’t get a chance to take stock of where I was in my assignments. But that didn’t matter. I had gotten a chance to do life with people—to hug and talk and listen and laugh…and to celebrate that my voice is strong enough that I can talk (although I know that I still need to rest it whenever possible—even if that means putting myself in time out a few times a day).

Friends: Plans are good—especially when trying to maneuver many moving pieces and keep them from crashing into one another. But sometimes life has a way of interrupting our plans and refreshing our spirits through people—through conversations—through celebrations—15 unplanned minutes at a time.

I am so thankful.

I Like Spreadsheets, But You Might Not. And That’s Okay

I spent my day doing the administrative work that goes into planning and keeping up with:
• First Friday Festivities (which include a morning food component and a night-time activity),
• Secret Pal,
• Eaglet Trees (a school-wide class incentive program that involves tracking data, displaying it on a bulletin board, and communicating it to PTO), and
• The Morning Announcements (for which I must compile a list of everyone’s birthday, make and distribute a schedule for classes to help with the announcements, set up a template from which to read the announcements, and make up writing/drawing prompts for each week).
I then went to my first class of my Master of School Administration program and proceeded to stay after class to work on my school webpage for a couple of hours (https://sites.google.com/a/harnett.k12.nc.us/deaton/home). I have no idea what possessed me to work on my school webpage, but working on it forced me to complete some of the work that I didn’t complete during the school day, so I am grateful.

Before school started, I attended a PTO meeting. Something came up about budgeting, so I showed the treasurer my budget sheet. She said, “Is that for your personal records?!” I sheepishly said, “Yes.” She said, “Wow. I feel dumb!”

As I was updating the school phone list yesterday—it comes alphabetically but I like to reorganize it by grade level/team so that I know who works with whom—our administrative assistant looked at me and said, “I don’t understand this. You’re an artist. You’re not supposed to be so organized.” I chuckled and said, “I’m a musician and music is very structured, so I guess my brain is, too.”

My family picks on me because I make a spreadsheet every chance I get. My aunt needed to write on a calendar to visualize our Scandinavian Adventure. I needed to make a spreadsheet.

I thought my assistant principal was crazy yesterday when she said she enjoyed making the master schedule for the school. While glancing at the master schedule to isolate just the music schedule is a bit overwhelming to me, I found myself today feeling a small bit of the enjoyment that my assistant principal feels while I created the master food schedule for First Fridays. I was stupidly content systematically copying and pasting group names into different rows and columns.

I suddenly think about Barb-The-Art-Teacher-Who-No-Longer-Works-With-Me-But-Who-Will-Always-Be-My-Art-Teacher-In-My-Heart and about how just the thought of making a spreadsheet makes her cringe. I bet many of you have cringed while reading this note. And I smile.

I’m having a moment similar to the moments I have when I go to the dentist:

To put it simply, I am so thankful that each of us is different and that, in large part, we have the opportunity to live into those differences and build lives around work, activities, and routines that fit with who we are.

Yet, I’m thankful, too, that as Maya Angelou says:

[There are] obvious differences
between each sort and type,
but we are more alike, my friends
than we are unalike.
We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.
We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.

Maybe I should go make a spreadsheet of oxymorons.

I Like Spreadsheets, But You Might Not. And That’s Okay

I spent my day doing the administrative work that goes into planning and keeping up with:
• First Friday Festivities (which include a morning food component and a night-time activity),
• Secret Pal,
• Eaglet Trees (a school-wide class incentive program that involves tracking data, displaying it on a bulletin board, and communicating it to PTO), and
• The Morning Announcements (for which I must compile a list of everyone’s birthday, make and distribute a schedule for classes to help with the announcements, set up a template from which to read the announcements, and make up writing/drawing prompts for each week).
I then went to my first class of my Master of School Administration program and proceeded to stay after class to work on my school webpage for a couple of hours (https://sites.google.com/a/harnett.k12.nc.us/deaton/home). I have no idea what possessed me to work on my school webpage, but working on it forced me to complete some of the work that I didn’t complete during the school day, so I am grateful.

Before school started, I attended a PTO meeting. Something came up about budgeting, so I showed the treasurer my budget sheet. She said, “Is that for your personal records?!” I sheepishly said, “Yes.” She said, “Wow. I feel dumb!”

As I was updating the school phone list yesterday—it comes alphabetically but I like to reorganize it by grade level/team so that I know who works with whom—our administrative assistant looked at me and said, “I don’t understand this. You’re an artist. You’re not supposed to be so organized.” I chuckled and said, “I’m a musician and music is very structured, so I guess my brain is, too.”

My family picks on me because I make a spreadsheet every chance I get. My aunt needed to write on a calendar to visualize our Scandinavian Adventure. I needed to make a spreadsheet.

I thought my assistant principal was crazy yesterday when she said she enjoyed making the master schedule for the school. While glancing at the master schedule to isolate just the music schedule is a bit overwhelming to me, I found myself today feeling a small bit of the enjoyment that my assistant principal feels while I created the master food schedule for First Fridays. I was stupidly content systematically copying and pasting group names into different rows and columns.

I suddenly think about Barb-The-Art-Teacher-Who-No-Longer-Works-With-Me-But-Who-Will-Always-Be-My-Art-Teacher-In-My-Heart and about how just the thought of making a spreadsheet makes her cringe. I bet many of you have cringed while reading this note. And I smile.

I’m having a moment similar to the moments I have when I go to the dentist:

To put it simply, I am so thankful that each of us is different and that, in large part, we have the opportunity to live into those differences and build lives around work, activities, and routines that fit with who we are.

Yet, I’m thankful, too, that as Maya Angelou says:

[There are] obvious differences
between each sort and type,
but we are more alike, my friends
than we are unalike.
We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.
We are more alike, my friends,
than we are unalike.

Maybe I should go make a spreadsheet of oxymorons.