Wednesday, December 4, 2019

Struggle Island - December 3, 2019

Struggle Island 
By, Michael Earnshaw 
December 3, 2019 
@mearnshaw158 



I stared at the illuminated document displayed on my screen, seven items listed, yet my eyes fixated only on #3, Struggle Island. A sinister smile overtook my face and that inner voice let out his best Mr. Burn’s laugh, the kind where a plan comes together in his mind. I awoke my email app, attached the document as a live link with a faux paperclip, and punched "Send. Now the waiting. This would be the longest three days, but the anticipation would be well worth it.  

I couldn’t even keep track of how many staff members came up to me over the course of the next 72 hours, all asking the same questions.  

“What is Struggle Island?” 

“What are we doing with Struggle Island?” 

“Do I need to know anything?” 

“What should I bring?” 

“I can’t wait for this faculty meeting!” 

That’s right. I had our staff salivating at the thought of our next faculty meeting. In other schools across our great nation, many principals spend their one hour a month after school with their staff reciting bullet points on a PowerPoint behind them. Many, if not all of these bullets, could easily be sent in an email or newsletter without any verbal explanation and I guarantee that the professional staff they oversee would understand what the directives were. I do things differently. I know I don’t want to sit and just read facts to our staff after a long day inspiring our kids, so why in the world would our staff want that either?  

“You shouldn’t have to worry too much. I would just make sure you’re comfortable, make sure to get a good night’s rest, and eat healthy. I’d suggest working out or getting a run in that morning, but don’t overdo it. You don’t want to be exhausted,” was my reply. Then I’d creepily stare at them, with that sinister smile taking contorting my face.  

We are constantly telling our teachers that long gone are the days when students sat in straight rows, writing rote notes from what the teacher produced on the board at the front of the room, reciting the same information students could read for themselves. Today’s classrooms need to be engaging. Teachers need to build anticipation and excitement into their lessons to have our students bursting back through our doors each day. Today’s lessons need to include collaboration, problem solving, higher level thinking, engagement, and fun. All of those are ingredients to a mouthwatering lesson. If you don’t believe me go read Teach Like a Pirate by Dave Burgess. Or better yet, go see him keynote or present and tell me you don’t think fun, engagement, and anticipation have a place in a successful lesson.  

I don’t expect our teachers to bring bland, antiquated lessons to their students, so why should I? No educator is excited to stay an hour or two after school when they’re exhausted. As principals, our staff meetings are our classrooms, it is our time to engage, inspire, and motivate our staff. It is a time to get our staff collaborating and problem solving to bring the best, life changing education to our students. That will not happen by them listening to me drone on through a PowerPoint. As leaders, we need to bring our passions and model the style of lessons we expect our staff to bring to our students.  

After going through the first standard items on our agenda, such as the passing of the Gracious Grizzly and 1st grade presenting on how to implement Bead Counters, we arrived at item #3! 

The room grew silent as if someone hit the “Mute” button in the room. All eyes made their way to me. I heard Mr. Burns’ maniacal laughter echoing in my head. That sinister smile overtook, I gasped a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Seconds felt like eons. I closed my eyes, placed my shaky hands on the desk in front of mfor support. I tilted my head towards the ground and closed my eyes.  

“Ok. It’s time we go to Struggle Island. You’re not going to need to bring anything with you. Your belongings will be safe here, if you’re lucky enough to return. If you don’t make it back we’ll be splitting up amongst ourselves what was left behind, unless you labeled everything or have a willUnfortunately, there’s no time to get it together now. Is everyone ready?” 

There were many smiles filling the room surprisingly, some began cracking their knuckles, and others stared at their closest comrade, searching for safety and sending S.O.S. messages via Morse code.  

“Alright, follow me,” were my last words before we landed on Struggle Island.  

I slowly walked out of the LRC (Learning Resource Center) and headed to our back playground. The sun was shining on this October afternoon. There was a strong eastern wind, swirling leaves and debris across the field that added to the feeling of despair as we prepared our trip to Struggle Island.  
Before our staff could begin conversing and getting comfortable, I began shouting.  

“Alright, everyone needs to form a circle, a nice tight circle. You want to be close enough to hold the person next to you’s hand. You don’t have to, but you may want to. You have ten seconds to form this circle.”  

Without speaking, our staff formed their circle. As I scanned the perimeter of their circlea few were holding hands. 

“Welcome to Struggle Island!” I shouted with both of my arms outstretched to the Heavens. From the bullseye of the circle I declared, “Right now we are all safe!”  

“If you remember, two weeks ago I had asked everyone to come to the front office and anonymously fill out an index card with an issue you are facing in the classroom. You then placed them in this manila envelope.” I held up the envelope as high as my right arm would allow.  

“Inside here is all of our struggles. What I am going to do is remove a card, one at a time, and read it aloud. If you are facing that same struggle, you are to take two steps backwards. When you do that you are now in the murky, shark infested waters, with no idea of how to get out. If you did not take two steps backwards you are safe on the island. If you are safe on the island, that either means you have never encountered this struggle, or you have a solution to it. If you are still safe on the island, I ask that you throw a life saver to your colleagues and share what has worked for you or ideas on how they can find a way out of their struggle.”  

Two weeks before, so our staff could not put two and two together, I asked in an email for them to come to the office and write a problem they were facing and needed help with. I wanted it anonymous to get true problems that maybe they would normally be afraid to admit they were struggling with. This helped to build anticipation as to why they were doing this. They had no inkling as to why I was asking for this. Then, about two weeks later, I sent the agenda with item #3 only stating, Struggle Island. As far as I know, nobody made the connection.  

I had received many positive praises from staff after this activity. It helped to drop the facade that everyone is perfect. Many staff also saw many of their colleagues in a new light, building a strong bond and camaraderie with the vulnerability many shared and helped with that afternoon.  This activity helped to share that all of us are facing issues we need help with. It helped to tighten the bond that we are all here for each other, and in turn our students. 

All of us, no matter our years of experience or title, face struggles. We all encounter obstacles that are way too daunting to get around on our own. We need to drop our egos and ask for help. Many of our answers are down the hall from our own offices and classrooms. If they’re not, reach out on social media. There are so many connected educators that your solution is out there. You are not alone. To be the best, not perfect, but the best for our kids, ask for help. We’re here for you.  

Wednesday, November 13, 2019

NKOTB - November 12, 2019

NKOTB 
By, Michael Earnshaw 
@mearnshaw158 
November 12, 2019 

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I’ll never forget the look on Mom’s face that crisp, fall evening. I had been sprinting around the house, chasing my sisters while my father concluded his day by viewing his favorite television shows through closed eyelids. Mom broke through the threshold of our front door, still sporting her black slacks and magenta, flowered patterned shirt, hidden by her long, tan, trench coat. Her oversized purse plummeted onto the end of our ovaled kitchen table. Ebony, our black lab, stopped chasing after us kids to greet mom, her blatantly obvious favorite family member.  
“Well, how’d it go? What’d she say about me?” I inquired.  
A deep, long sigh escaped from Mom’s lips. I figured she was exhausted from another long day downtown.  
“You need to start wearing different pants to school Mike,” is all she said as she stared at the kitchen floor tile directly in front of the one I was residing on.  
She then slowly floated to the stove where the leftover dinner that my sisters, dad, and I ingested sat cold and somewhat hardened in a pan.  
Confusion overtook my 9-year-old brain.  
“What do you mean I need to wear new pants? What did she say about my grades?”  
I already knew the answer to my questions. Grades, great, all A’s. Each year of my schooling, which at this point in my short life would make report card #17, were always A’s. Behavior, perfect, the model student every teacher dreamed about at night. I participated, but not over the top in your face participation. I had my best friends but was also friendly with everyone in class. I included whomever wanted to play “Kick the Snapple Cap” at recess and never complained when groups were assigned. I was THE student teachers wanted. At least I thought.  
Mom contemplated her response for a while. It probably took so long because she was also trying to heat up her dinner with some Jedi force, simply looking down at her food on the stove through the same closed eyes dad was taking in his stories on the Lay-Z-Boy.  
“Mike, I don’t know, she says your pants make you look like you have no money and as you get older, you’ll get mixed into the wrong crowd because of how you dress.” These words filled our kitchen air, sounding rehearsed and forced. At 9 years old I knew that Mom didn’t even believe what she was saying, that by me wearing jeans with holes in them had no bearing on my future.  
It’s probably time to explain these jeans. I was in 4th grade. I had finally discovered music. So many of the guys my age were listening to and starting to resemble Metallica, Guns N’ Roses, Poison, and Motley Crue. We had something much cooler than mullets, we had the rat tail! I was proud of mine. It had taken awhile to grow. It hung about halfway down my back and was kept in a tight braid with a red rubber band. I never needed to wear long sleeves because my right wrist was layered in friendship bracelets, keeping my forearm cozy. Every night before bed I tightened them up as insurance they didn’t fall off throughout my slumber. One morning I awoke to a blue hand, teaching me a lesson in what it means to cut off circulation.  
While I was proud of my rat tail and rope bracelets, it was my jeans. From right above the knee rappelling all the way to my ankles were holes.  
Remember those metal bands I mentioned above, well I was not going for that look. Instead, Danny, Donnie, Joey, Johnathon, and Jordan were my heroes in 4th grade. I dreamed about being the 6th member. Once accepted, I would truly be the New Kid on the Block! 
“So, mom, why can’t I wear my jeans? I love these, they’re cool?” I pleaded.  
With another unconvincing sigh, Mom responded with words that she didn’t own, “Mike, the teachers are talking about the way you dress. You just have to look more like the other kids. You have that one pair of pants with no holes you can wear tomorrow. I’ll get you more this weekend.”  
That was it. It was the death of my holey NKOTB jeans, but the birth of realizing what it meant to be judged for how one looks or dresses.  
At just 9 years old, a straight A, well-behaved student, was already being labeled as a kid who “would go down the wrong path. Mom also explained that my teacher, and the other staff at my elementary school, know that when I get into Jr. High and High School, that if I continue to dress the way I do, the “bad” kids are going to suck me into their evil clans.  
Just writing out this story, this story that changed my life forever, anger is filling my veins. I can feel my brow furrowing, my lips straightening, and the heavy breaths leaving my nasal cavity. I am a firm believer in accepting others for who they are, flaws, strengths, oddities, and individualities! We are all beautiful human beings with so much to offer this world. Nothing world changing has ever been accomplished by following the status quo. Nothing world changing has ever been accomplished by creating cookie cutter lemmings.  
I finished the school year with a chip on my shoulder. For the first time in my life, I did not view my teacher as one of the most important adults in my life. I no longer looked up to them, hanging on their every word, yearning to learn from them. I still made my straight A’s and behaved, I knew how to play what is now an antiquated game, but that relationship we had was broken.  
Our relationship, the relationship educators strive to make with their students, had a broken link. I now knew that this teacher didn’t truly believe in me. They didn’t believe that I could overcome the peer pressure I would face as I got older. They didn’t believe that I could express myself, look and dress differently than my peers, and still succeed academically and socially.  
We are here to help guide our students to believe in themselves, embrace their strengths and weaknesses, own their successes and failures, and make choices to be better tomorrow than they are todayWe are here to help create world changers. Had this teacher gone about informing Mom about her concerns in a different manner could our relationship have been saved? More than likely. We need to remember that it takes a lot of work to create a trusting relationship, especially with students. Unfortunately, it takes the strike of a feather to break it.  
Remember who your students are, human beings. Remember who your students’ families are, human beings. Find the right approach to address your concerns to them. Find the approach that will strengthen that relationship in the long run, displaying your true concern and care for them. It’s possible, and it’s what is needed to help build world-changing students.  
Let’s Go!  
      • Describe a time that you passed judgement on the future of a child without having substantial proof that that would be their path.  
      • Explain what happened to the relationship between you, the student, and possibly the family.  
      • Reflect on how you could have approached your concerns in a different light.