I am reading, Transforming School Culture by Anthony Muhammad and it has been his reminder of the phrase, "Moment of Truth," that has stuck with these past 48 hours.  Hummm..."Moment of Truth."

He was referencing the time when new teachers much choose if they will continue on as educators or leave the field.  The rate is rather staggering.  Teaching is complicated.  For those that understand and pursue their role of making sure that children learn, this task is even more difficult.  It is one thing to stand in front of a class and talk, talk, and talk some more.  It is a whole different ball game when you not only talk, but check for understanding, reflect, reteach, adjust, and allow for student differences.  Then, if you are either forced or chose to be part of a collaborative team, there is a whole new moment of truth.  To be willing to share your practice, student data, to have hard conversations as to what all children in the grade level will know, do, and understand rather than each individual teacher deciding.   Teachers who take the job of making sure each child is learning is a moment of truth.  Are the children actually learning what they need to know or are they just spending a set amount of days under my care.   

I am thankful to be a part of a teaching staff that has already made the decision to ensure children are learning. They have answered their, "Moment of Truth." The transformation has not been easy for anyone but it has been necessary.  Some have embraced it, others warmed up to it, but all are committed to student achievement.  

What is your, "Moment of Truth?"  I am sure that every profession has one.  Not just professions like teachers, doctors and lawyers, but homemakers, homeschoolers, laborers, electricians, plumbers, contractors, car salesmen, Walmart clerks, dog trainers, performers, and maintenance workers.  The list is endless.   In your, "Moment of Truth," what have you committed to doing with excellence even in the face of adversity?  

Grumpy.  That is my current state of feeling.  I want to be left alone.  I want the house quiet.  I want all distractions gone.  Banished!  Forever!  All noise and unnecessary sounds!  I even went for a drive all by myself.  Forty miles of just me, the radio, and my grumpy self.  Even as I sit here to type, I am slumped at the shoulders, extra chunky in the midsection, and hair too tightly pulled back.  

What brings emotions each day?  Fluttering from one moment to the next?  I don't have a psychological or neurological answer, but I have little doubt, it is a complicated internal rush of  systems that I can't even pronounce, let alone understand or explain.

What I do get to choose though is my outward response.  Yes, my children can read me well.  "Mom's grumpy" and they give each other the silent signal to leave me alone.  As for my husband, we will be a celebrate 27 years on Friday.  Yep, he gets the hints and facial expressions too.  But for those outside of my close realm, I can fake it with my smile, with my cheery voice, with my feigned interest.  I may feel grumpy but I don't have to be grumpy.  I am not pushing fakeness, but I am saying that we need to be considerate of those that cross our paths.  My momentary feelings of grumpiness don't have to spewed everywhere, even on my children or my husband.   

I wonder what you write about, journal about, talk to yourself about?  Reviewing daily lessons, hashing and re-conversing conversations, remembering a different season of life, or planning for one yet to come?  Do you write about your loved ones and the things you want them to know?  Or maybe you write about the things you are glad didn't actually come out of your mouth.  I have a page in my Bible covered with a picture one of my children drew because I didn't ever want them to read just how mad I was at that moment in time....Good thing I loved them cause I sure didn't like them!  

In the last three years I have written over 600 typed pages processing the trauma from the past.  Most of it was written during the night because I couldn't sleep.  Some of it is quotes from people who seemed to have read my secret thoughts.  To begin for the first time in my life to understand the guilt and shame, the anger and rage, to shift the blame from myself to the rightful owner.  My mind and body were forcing me to look at what happened.  The intensity was extreme.  To process truth over lies, logic over emotion, knowledge over perception.  I am thankful for the gift of writing.  To let my heart speak the words that my mouth is unable utter.

What will your heart write about today?  Maybe on the old fashioned paper, maybe on an electronic device, maybe a mix of both.  What ever it is, let your heart speak.

 

Our oldest daughter is beginning to discover that there is a whole world outside of her world.  Her 20 years of life have taken her many places, some of which she is now studying with a new found curiosity .  

Waco is her latest investigation.  I had to smile as she is doing her best to look at the event from different view points. She is beginning to more fully grasp that leadership decisions can have serious consequences.  But what caught my attention the most was her statement as she talked to her older friend.  He was just a boy at the time and as she said, "I wasn't even a thought yet."

I remember Waco from my dining room floor as I finished college work and applied for jobs.  But as I think of today, Covid 19, hopefully, will be something my grandchildren only have to ask me about.  "Grandma, do you remember when...."  I can't help but wonder how decisions being made today, from world leaders to community officials to individual households will and already are affecting those that aren't even a thought yet.      

I need to apologize to many of my students.  I taught them to memorize their multiplications facts, which is not a bad thing.  We sang songs, we chanted them, we took 5 min. timings over them, we even celebrated with a banana split! What I did fail to do was to teach them the whys behind what they were memorizing.  I failed to help them discover the patterns the numbers make.  I failed to help them take a quantity of items and break them into equal groups or how to use equal groups to quickly find the quantity.   Yes, yes, and super yes, I taught them the process.  We made sure each column was perfectly aligned, where to put the number to be carried, how to write the answer and how to skip two lines between each problem.  When we divided, it was the same process.  All lines nice and neat, each number in it's place and a place for each number.  I taught the process well...but I failed to teach them the why, I failed to help them discover how numbers work.  Part of me hates to put this out in public, but oh well, here it goes.  Part of the reason I failed to teach them is because I didn't have a grasp of what was happening either!  I knew the process, retaught the process, but not  the whys.  I didn't understand, I didn't know the importance of the why and so I didn't help students discover them in my classroom.

Yes, they all survived, just like I did.  Most grew up and found gainful employment even without me teaching them the why.  But, now that I know better, I can and will do better. Ensuring that each student at Hawthorne Elementary has a number sense foundation to build on is my new passion.   

In 40 minutes I am to meet with a superintendent to talk about instructional coaching.  While no expert and certainly not ready to write the "how to" book, I do have something to offer, perspective.

What is it like to be a superintendent, an ER doctor, a factory worker, a firefighter, a city employee, confined to a wheel chair, unemployed, in a nursing home, deathly sick, being chased by terrorist?  I don't know.  There are millions upon millions of perspectives I don't know.  That is because the only perspective I have is mine. The experiences that shaped me may be similar to a thousand others, but it is still not the same experience.  My reaction to an event may have been mild and forgotten but to someone else, life altering.  

So, as we visit today, may we each take the stance of perspective and simply listen.  Listen to the stories that have shaped us.  Listen to the lessons that we have gleaned, to the highs and lows of life, to the mistakes and the got it rights.  Ask questions, dig a little deeper, be curious.   Simply listen to life from their perspective.  It doesn't mean that I have to agree, but simply that I listened and tried to understand life from their perspective.

The article stated that during this time of "stay at home," Walt most likely would have been very pleased.  It went on to say that the Orlando Disney was his dream of future communities.  After his passing, his dream was set aside and big hotels and theme parks to make money took over.  I don't know the truth to this article, but I hope the part about Walt is.  

I was visiting with a fellow teacher this morning about how there seems to be a bit more "right" about the world at this moment in time.  Families are together, places and events don't seem quite as important, the rushing has slowed.  I don't mean to paint this as a time of rainbows and puppies, but I do hope when this is all over, we, as a society, keep some of the lessons on what is most important, each other.  

As is the morning routine, I let out our two dogs,  a German Shepherd and Lapoo (think really cute dust mop). They have their normal potty spots and usually run right to them, but not today.  Cara's nose hit the ground, her entire back fur went up and she instantly traced the scent to a spot in the yard.  Sam was right on her heels, fast as his little legs could take him.  But then our cat, Mittens, AKA Black Widow, was also acting strange.  She was not acting like it was her own fresh kill in the yard, something had her riled, too.  Needless to say, my sense of smell didn't pick up a single thing, for which I am thankful!  Ugggg...

But what struck me was their innate ability to pick up a scent of something, Cara obviously interpreted it as danger and fearlessly track it down.   Sam instantly followed.  Mittens...being a cat...took the leery approach, eyes wide, looking, yet searching for cover.  Is not that us also?  While we may not physically smell danger, we sense it.  As individuals, as friends, as parents, as caretakers.  There is something within us that deeply desires for all the world to be "right."  When our sense of danger is triggered, we instantly go into protective mode. 

I wonder today, what is is setting off your "sense of smell?"  What are you tracking down to make right?  What are you protecting your loved ones from?  What are you highly sensitive to?  We long for the world to be made right again.  What wrong are you fearlessly fighting against? 

Being intentional, or as one of our administrators is often heard saying, "Walk with a purpose."  My mind goes in two directions this morning.  Intentional as an educational instructor but also intentional in life.

​In one of my first days as a coach, someone asked me if she should put these items up on the wall,  she had found them at WalMart and they were so cute.  My instant answer was, "What is your purpose?"  Being intentional with each lesson, each test, each activity, each moment.  Each child is only given 170ish days to master content at each grade level.  There are no do overs, no retaking, no trying again.  Yes, there is reteaching and review, there is occasionally grade retention, but in most cases, a child never gets to "redo" any grade.  Teachers must know what the child knows, what they need to know, and where they are at in their understanding and application.  Be intentional.

Being intentional in life.  The old saying, "Failing to plan is planning to fail."  I agree with this is its general sense, but not in specifics as each day holds it's own surprises, twists, and turns. But it is over the long haul.  What do you want your life to have counted for?  Most likely you will be a distant memory not long after your death, as I think of my grandparents and great-grandparents, but the influence you leave will last for generations.   Be intentional.

Today, may you walk with a purpose.  As you reflect, who did you make feel special, who did you love well, who is a little better off because they crossed your path?  Be intentional. Walk with a purpose.

Before I hit the POST button tonight, I am going to sigh.  Not as relief, but as a step that scares me.  Being vulnerable leaves one open to attack. I am sharing what feels like a weakness, a defect, a flaw, a hidden embarrassment.  But feeling doesn't equate with truth.  It took a friend reminding me over and over to put truth over lies, logic over emotion.  I am not PTSD, I am affected by PTSD.  

In simple terms, the harmful actions of another towards me has left my fight, flight, freeze system out of wack.  But you would never know it.  I have lived with it for so long that I am an expert at covering it up.  

That is why I share today.  As I reflect on this time, hopefully for just a season, of COVID 19, I can't help but think of the number of people that are being impacted in various ways. Death, separation, isolation, loss, uncertainty, and fear to name a few.  The health care workers that are physically and emotionally exhausted.  Family that can't physically be with those that are dying because of the nature of the virus.  Loved ones that can't cognitively understand why they can't stick to their routines.  The stress of losing a job, of schooling children, of being an essential worker, or a private business that may not recover.  The list is endless.  

I share today as a reminder to be kind. Kind with your words, kind with your actions, kind in your responses to the hurts of others.  Every path is different.  We don't follow a trail in life, we forge a path, each and every one of us.  For most, the path will hold all the normal bumps and bruises and they will move on.  For a few though, life will leave them deeply wounded.  It is not their fault, they can't just try harder, stop thinking about it, or take a chill pill.  No, this bump in life will leave them different.  Yes, life will go on, but it won't go on the same.  Be kind because you don't know who it is and most likely they will never tell you.  

I literally sit here and chuckle as I picture my attempt to capture the title..."What I didn't know...."  HA!  I can hardly type for laughing at myself.  Thank you, God, for the gift of laughter and the humble perspective of being put in my place quite often.

Ok, back to the original intent.  Twenty seven years of classroom experience.  Twenty seven years of tears, grumps, laughs, oh-yahs, oh nos, hugs, smiles, teacher fingers, and I am so sorry.  I often let our 1st year teachers know that it was a good thing I was in debt that first year or I literally would have quite and gone back to WalMart--they were booming in the the early 90's.  But what I didn't know is that little by little, PD by PD, conversation by conversation, book by book, attempt by attempt, step by step, I would learn.  Teaching is so much more than just standing in front of a room rattling off information expecting them to anxiously absorb each morsel.  I didn't know that teaching is more about student learning than it is about me presenting a really good (or so I thought) lesson.  

Characteristics of Effective Instruction is about putting student learning at the center rather than teacher instruction.  Effective instruction helps ensure that students are learning, processing, and assimilating the new information with old.  The aged saying, "Sage on the stage" was and is commendable for certain situations.  But, in today's elementary classrooms, the "Sage on the stage" needs not to be the teacher alone, but each and every student.  

A friend and I have been texting back and forth much of the day.  She let me know I was not being easy on her, to which I agreed.  Friends don't say what we want to hear, they say what we need to hear.  I appreciate friends who will banter with me.  Not argue, but banter.  That is what a good coach does.  They have developed the trust within the relationship so that truth can be spoken.  To share ideas, frustrations, successes, hurts.  We must trust that we are both reaching for the same goal, the best instructional practices possible, and then we can banter.  When coaching is viewed as telling or correcting, automatically defenses go up and conversations are lost.  Yes, there are different stances that I take when coaching, depending on the given situation, but the ideal one is where we move forward in our practice because we have been open and honest.  We have trusted and thus we have grown. 

Year 4 as Instructional Coach has all but ended.  COVID 19 may allow us to return for a few weeks, but I am doubtful.  Waiting on a State and Administrative decision.  But during this time, I have been able to work on updating my website.  I am not sure how much of it is truly for others at this point as it is a reflection of my journey.  Through Iowa's TLC plan, Instructional Coaching was a brand new position for our district.   The intentions of Jim Knight, Diane Sweeney, Elena Aguilar, the ones that had forged the path and written the books vs. the reality of feet on the ground, figuring it out.  

I would love to say that I was warmly embraced by the entire staff and they were all eager to join with me because I knew exactly what I was doing, how to offer support, and had a clear vision others could follow. HA! Prom vs. Middle School first dance.  I wanted the beauty of Prom, but reality was the extreme awkwardness of not only how to reintroduce myself to a staff I had worked with for over 20 years, but how to "Coach" instructionally and intentionally...whatever that meant.  I also had to learn to toughen up.  During that first year or two I was met with a good deal of snide and hurtful remarks around my "worthless" position. I had to figure out how to even begin to enter conversations at the lower grades and at the administrative level.  I was a career teacher at third grade with no idea what happened in K, 1st, or 2nd and certainly not at those closed door administrative leadership meetings.  And now, there was no one on my team because I was a team of one.  Yes, there were three other IC in the same boat, but each at their own level, figuring out the same things.  I was no longer a "teacher" but also not an "administrator", I was to be the "expert" on everything related to teaching and yet engulfed by the reality of inexperience.  Needless to say, I learned that leadership is a willingness to say yes, not a position because you have all the answers.  

During that first year I was not even drinking from the fire hose, I was being drowned by it.  Drowned by out of town meetings that took me away from my family.  Drowned by after school meetings that changed my normal routines.  Drowned by conversational words that were not yet a part of of educational vocabulary.  Drowned by what Mike and I referred to as bubbles.  We knew they all connected, but how? The life raft or oxygen mask was simply hope and a desire to help. 

As I watch others around me being willing to say "yes" to hard things, they experience the same types of transitions.  A friend who adopted a large family of small children, fire hose moment.  Another that said yes to taking on the "unwanted" church campus, gurgling for air.  Taking on another department to manage, the role of four men wrapped into one.  And today, all the front-line workers that are facing COVID-19, leading where the world has not gone in over 100 years.  Decisions that are life and death, decisions that effect hundreds of thousands, decisions that will be criticized no matter  what.  Leadership is being willing to say yes. A willingness to sit at the table, to listen, to speak, to challenge and be challenged.  A willingness to go first, a willingness to call others to follow, a willingness to be vulnerable where safety once was.

Instructional coaching is not about having all the answers, it is about meeting people where they are at and coming along side of them.  It is about gently pushing their comfort levels, reassuring them the next step is safe because you are there.  It is taking time to listen with your heart and solve problems with your new found resources.  Coaching is not about teaching one how to teach, it is about supporting them while they strive to improve.  Life is always moving forward.  Sometimes in dull routines, sometimes pushed by fierce winds.  If our teachers so choose, we will partner together as best we can, learn from each other, all the while our students reaping the benefits of our willingness to simply say "yes."      

About two months back, I was bantering with one of my favorite thinking partners and he later sent me the following comment,  "Lisa, be generous with your scars."  When we visited next, I sat with my arms crossed and body tight at his mentioning this.  I was not angry, simply protective.  Protective of my scars.  Some are simple, like the everyday bumps and bruises, a look, a comment, a careless word.  Others are far deeper.  They have shaped who I have become and they are shrouded in a Secret World.  Those scars hold taboos that all know not to speak of, so mostly, I don't.  But my task of late has been to touch them, examine them, understand them.  They still cause my FFF system to over-react, but at least I know it is not a personal fault, but a result.  And, because of these scars, I can help others touch their's.

That is a lot like Instructional Coaching.  Teaching is personal.  It often is tied to our very identity.  If someone asks, "What are you?"  I proudly state, "I'm a teacher."  But as a teacher, I also struggle to hide the scars that have hurt.  I don't want others to think poorly of me, so I pretend.  Pretend to know more than I do, pretend that I understand exactly what they are talking about, pretend so as not to be viewed poorly.  What I have learned as an IC, is that just as with my personal scars,  I need to be generous with my teaching scars.  To admit that I didn't or don't know, that I am unsure, that I simply don't understand and part of me just really doesn't care to.  When I can be generous, it offers others the same.  They can peak around the corner of their hiding and open their hand.  I reassure them of two things.  #1--We can't do better until we know better and #2--It is not about what is wrong, it is about what is next.  

My you take time to examine some of your own scars, and then be generous with them.  We need each other and we need each other to be real.