The Royal Child

One of my favorite parables was told by the minister in an episode of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman entitled "Just One Lullaby."  In this episode there is a town debate on the use or prohibition of corporal punishment.  The minister, Timothy, shares a story that I constantly call to mind.  I will try to do it justice:

There once was a town that was very sad.  The children had a very sad school house with few books to share.  There were no parks or places to play.  The streets were dirty.  The villagers were sad and worked so hard in the fields to grow enough to eat that they were rarely at home as a family.  The way they spoke to each other was sad and cold.

One day, the king of the whole kingdom came to visit.  He told the members of the village that he had secretly replaced one of their babies with his own.  The villagers were shocked and afraid.  They each worried, what would the king do if he saw the way that his child was living.

The villagers cleaned the streets and school.  They bought books, toys, and paints. They spoke to their children with love and made time each night to eat as a family.  The children thrived and grew into happy, loving adults.  These adults worked, loved, and started their own families.  The village was no longer sad, but instead, it was a wonderful place to be.  It was a kind, loving, beautiful village.  You see, the children grew up not knowing that one was royalty.  They only knew that they were loved and safe.

Many years later, the king returned and enjoyed getting to know each of the adults that the children had become.  One elderly lady asked of the king, "Your Majesty, please, tell me if my son is your prince.  He is so wonderful I just feel he must be."

The king replied, "They are all royalty."

Strength, Courage and Wisdom = Hope

I have been absent from my blog for a while.  I would like to apologize but I can’t.  I can’t because I have been doing something for which no one should ever apologize.  I stepped back and took a look at who I what and what I believe.  You see, this was my response to the political climate of today.

I have my own beliefs and they have been formed in part by my experiences and in part by my education.  How much was education?  A third?  A half? A majority?  I don’t know.  But I do know that I am a teacher.  I spend 175 days a year with children; children that aren’t mine by blood, just by passion and commitment.  Was I making the right decisions for each and every one of them?  Was I making my beliefs the right answer or was I tolerant of free thought.  

What I decided is that I am committed to teaching, leadership, and the belief that our future is good.  Children will grow up to be the great and wonderful people that we hope they become.  I teach because I do value each and every person that I meet.  Each belief a person holds is right for them, shaped by their experiences, and their education.  If I want heard, I need to continue to listen.  I may not agree with everyone but that is not an argument, just a mark of what makes us each individuals.  I am not saying that crimes such as the shooting at the Aurora Theater, genocide in Sudan, or the death of our foreign ambassadors is acceptable.  It isn’t. But beliefs such as what the immigration policy should be, who should be manufacturing our products and at what rate, how we should spend our tax dollars, and whether or not each military maneuver was effective can not be decided by one person.  Each person’s view matters.

Yes, out future is hopeful. I count my blessings that I am able to be a part of that future, in a very small way.

As to my personal future,  it is this blog and public education leadership.  I may not have a leadership job title, but leadership is more than what is written on your door.  I think I am ready.  To that end, I seek your ideas, questions and struggles.  You will help guide me along with the sage advise I say as I go to sleep each night:

Grant me the strength to endure

That which I cannot change,

The courage to change

That which I can,

And the wisdom to know the difference.

(my personal adaption of the Serenity Prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr)

(Un)Fair Advantage

Oscar Pistorius, this is a name that will forever remain important.  Oscar, a young an from South Africa was the first amputee to run in the Olympics.  Not just the Paralympics, but the one that is called the Olympics and is actually broadcast in prime time on a station you can find (enough ranting, back to Oscar).

Oscar is often referred to as the "fastest man on no legs."  But this was the very source of controversy.  The prosthesis legs he wears at first disqualified him for the Olympics as an "Unfair Advantage."  Oscar appealed and his expert witnesses proved that his Cheetah Prosthetics were not an advantage.

Really?!?  Do we really think they are an advantage?  Are we afraid that other runners training as Olympic hopefuls are going to have their legs amputated so they can have the benefit of a prothetic?  Really?!?  I don't think so.  I doubt that his mother, when told that her 11 month old infant would have part of his legs cut off, she said, "great, now he can get faster ones."  No, they are not an advantage.  When he steps in a puddle on mud and doesn't know, that is not an advantage.  When he, as a 18 month old had to not only learn to walk but to put on his legs correctly so he wouldn't get sores or infections, it was not an advantage.

Bu the most remarkable thing about Oscar, his attitude.  He was grateful to run.  Grateful that he made it through the semi-finals.  Grateful to be an Olympian.  And his attitude endeared him to the men he ran with.  One even wanted to trade name tags with him at the conclusion of the race, a symbol of admiration and respect that goes beyond words.

Oscar Pistorius

Remember that name, remember that man, and remember,

All things are Possible!

Olympic Inclusion

Like a great portion of the population, I look forward to the Olympics.  My Friday was planned so I could be home to watch the Opening Ceremony and the pageantry, excitement, unity, and stories that come with it.  I love every minute from the choreography, the music, and the uniforms for each country.  It is a fun tradition that draws me in each year.

This year, there was a surprise.  This year, I saw an inclusive ceremony.  There were individuals with disabilities throughout the night.  They were members of the performance, volunteers, and people.  People who happened to have disabilities.  I first realized what I was seeing when the Kaos Signing Choir for Deaf and Hearing Children 

Copied from: http://www.haringeyindependent.co.uk/news/topstories/9845298.Choir_performs_national_anthem_at_Olympic_Opening_Ceremony/

It was a beautiful performance.  Then, as I watched the dancing and music throughout the ages, I noticed that there were additional individuals with disabilities participating.  They were dancing, singing, and a truly included part of the ceremony.  There was nothing giving away that they were different, separate, or disabled in the choreography or placement of them in regards to the television cameras and other participants.  No, it was simply people performing--all people who volunteered.

This is not the end of inclusion for this Olympics.  Athletes who would only have been participating in the Para Olympics are participating in both this year. Oscar Pistorius and Natalia Partyka are a testament not only to their own strength but to who we can become when we look toward each other's strengths, rather than our perceived weaknesses or short comings.

Thank you Olympics for inspiring us all in some way.  You gave me a glimpse of the future I believe in, thank you.

Student Teacher

I had the extreme privilege of having a student teacher this semester.  He is an incredible addition to the special education field and I look forward to working together as peers in the future.  But what this experience gave me was a chance to reflect.  After all, in the beginning of the learning, a student teacher mimic, or reflects that which they observed you do until they begin to grow into their own professional personality.  This experience taught me many new things and confirmed others.  Here are the 4 that impacted me the most.

• Teaching is a craft from the moment students arrive until they leave.  There are so many ways to approach a skill as just as many ways to teach it.

• This is the most difficult job to teach while it is one of the easiest to enjoy.  

• Students are resilient.  Forgive yourself on the day that you make a mistake, miss a teaching moment, or simply aren't your best.  They will still learn.

• You can't teach compassion, risk taking, or creativity.  You can make it safe to feel compassion, take a risk, or think creatively.

And on a personal note:

• I am way harder on myself than anyone else.

• I love my job and am grateful that I get to do something I am passionate about every day.

• Laughing and celebrating with my students is still my favorite part of the day.

I am going to miss team teaching with such a great professional but most of all, I am eternally grateful that he gave me the chance to learn more about me as a person, professional, and friend.  I hope I taught him as much as he taught me.

Kids Today...

We are bombarded with information about kids today.  Unfortunately it is usually not positive statements that follow the conversational starter: "Kids today..."

I came across a story that changes that,

in a BIG way.

This is real kids, doing really great things, for ALL members of their school community.  I followed up on this video by scanning the local newspapers and came across an article written by Tina Griego.  I love that the biggest concern his classmates had was that he would believe it was votes driven by pity rather than sincere votes of love that helped him win.

I tell you, kids today....

are amazing.

Proud to Be "Goof"

Twelve years ago I had the privilege of teaching a young man with Down Syndrome who taught me so many things about teaching.  This young man was only in kindergarten when I met him and he instantly stole my heart.  He was funny, active, athletic, and STUBBORN!!!  This young man could out-wait everyone in his life when given directions he wasn't fond of following.  We instantly connected as, I hate to admit it, am also incredibly stubborn.  We were kindred spirits and able to quickly move from behavior management to learning and having fun together.

As he became more comfortable, he started to say more than "ugh" and "no."  Everything he said was a repeat of what you said to him.  Even if I said things like, "I am a pretty girl," he would repeat with "I am a pretty girl."  He didn't even seem to realize what he was saying.  I just wanted him to keep talking.

Then, one day, it happened.  This young man was walking across the amphitheater making funny shadows as he walked and I said to him, "You are a goof."  He turned around, looked me straight in the eye (which was a victory in itself) and said, "No, you are the goof."

It was a real-time, honest, original sentence.  I was so excited that I wanted to hear it again and replied with the not-quite-mature-but-engaging "No, you sir, are the goof."  At which point he walked to me, said, "you are goof," and ran ahead with a giggle.

From that day on, this young man did two things:

Spoke conversationally with his own ideas, requests, and initiation 

and

Called me "Goof" as though that is my name.  

Needless to say, my principal at the time heard the story as I was sharing his celebration and she also adopted the name for me.  The young man's mom could only call me "Goof" or he would correct her.  Within a month, that was my name.  One I wore proudly as it was the result of one amazing moment as a teacher.  A few years later, I moved to a new state and received this beautiful gift that I still treasure.