My son James had his last regular-season football game today. (Now playoffs begin!) James really loves football. I, on the other hand, have no idea what football is all about. I enjoy watching James play, and appreciate his enthusiasm for the game, but personally, I don't "get it."
At games and practices, as I stand on the sidelines with other parents, when the ball is snapped and the play begins, they'll all start shouting, "Wrap it!" or "Fill the gap!" or, before anything on the field even moves, "Watch number 32...he's going long!" How do they know number 32 is going long, short, or sideways when nobody's moved a muscle? What does "wrap it" mean, and why does it need to be wrapped? I never even saw a gap that needed to be filled!
At today's game, something happened (I'm not even sure what), and the ref began to move the ball towards our goal line, as though we had committed some sort of penalty. You should have heard our parents begin to shout, not to mention our coaches! But what was amazing was this: Our parents were shouting something about it being a "dead ball," which they had "declined" and so, no yardage was required of us. The refs actually listened to our parents, held a mini conference in the middle of the field, decided the parents were correct, and left the ball where it was. The refs changed the call after our parents pointed out their error!
My point? These people really know their football.
Now, I can tell a Partita from a Polonaise in a flash. I can recognize the difference between Beethoven and Mozart with little difficulty. But "declining a dead ball" and telling the refs their business? In this element, I'm lost!
So here's where I'm going. In this particular football league, if you want out of volunteer duty, you have to pay a fee. I declined to pay the fee (because I'm cheap), so today was my "dancing day."
Today was my day to be a member of the "chain gang." No, I wasn't impersonating Cool Hand Luke. I was the guy on the sidelines who holds the posts marking the ten yards necessary to gain a first down. (Did I describe that correctly?)
Now imagine this. A school headmaster, a musician, who knows nothing of the calculus of football, required to measure the length of ground necessary for each team to gain a first down, down to the inch, and all of these parents, who know the rules better than the referees, watching me, occasionally screaming "Straighten the chain!" because my poorly-measured inch was jeopardizing the play. To make matters worse, every quarter, in the middle of the play, they'd change the direction of the field! So, if our team was originally going in this direction, all of a sudden we had to turn everything around and go in that direction.
I was so lost, so nervous, and so clueless, I felt like a duck out of water. No, I felt like a missionary at a cannibal convention! Totally out of place!
Fortunately for me, the guy at the other end of the chain was one of "those dads." You know, the ones who know the rules better than the refs. He was constantly telling the players what to do, offering his opinion to the coach, that the ref finally warned him, "One more word out of you, and I'll throw you out of this game!" I had no idea what I was doing, but by keeping my mouth shut and my eyes and ears open, I kept out of the ref's eyesight and out of trouble. I actually looked like I knew what I was doing!
I gained a greater appreciation for the game today. I always thought that, once the ball was snapped, you just tried to stop it from getting down field. But after today, I realized that there really is a sort of calculus going on down there. I gained a greater appreciation for the coaches and all they've got to manage. But most importantly...
I gained a greater appreciation for my son James who, at 11 years old, seems to really understand all of this.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
I just wanna be heard!
I had an eye-opening experience today. But first let me say that, after 20+ years of working in Christian schools, I can still learn something new that, perhaps, I should have learned 20 years ago!
So, what did I do that was so eye-opening? Did I chew a student out publicly? No. Did I dress down a colleague in the hallway for all to hear? No. Did I suspend a child for not having his shirt tucked in (as I've been often accused of doing), just so I could see what it feels like? No.
I asked parents to come and talk to me about communication at school, and offered them coffee and bagels for their trouble!
That's it!
You would've thought I swam the channel for them, or rescued their children from a burning building!
This morning was, by far, the best parent PR vehicle I've ever accomplished, and it was really no big deal. I began by asking them how many of them had ever been quoted in the local newspaper, or been directly associated with something reported on in the local newspaper. Almost everyone in the room raised his or her hand (there were quite a few dads there, for which I was grateful!). Then, as they kept their hands up, I asked them how many of those news reports got at all of the information right. Every hand immediately went down! Of all those people who had at some point been reported on in the paper, not one of them could state that the story was 100% accurate. Think about that! The point I was trying to make was simple: We think that accuracy in our communication is the norm; but the exact opposite is true. Usually, most communication involves some level of error. In short, miscommunication is the norm.
After letting that soak in (one of the dads said I ruined his whole weekend, as now he won't be able to think about anything else!), we talked about the various ways we teachers and administrators go about communicating, how parents communicate back to us, how we can all do a better job, and what they'd like to talk about in the future.
We had bagels, we drank coffee, we laughed, we shared our thoughts (my wife thinks I offended half the moms there with my Jersey humor), and then we went about our day. No big deal.
But the remarkable thing is how these folks responded to just being heard! They so appreciated me taking time out of my day to listen to them. They were so relieved to have an opportunity to meet with me, but not for the purpose of slogging through some prearranged agenda, or for them to bring me a problem (which is why most people come to see me in the first place).
What is it about us that places such a high value on wanting to be heard? Why is that my daughters and my wife will often-times tell me, "Just listen to me!" (I'm not making a sexist comment here, it's just the fact that my sons don't do this.) Why is it that my wife, when she brings me a problem, frequently doesn't want me to provide a solution, she just wants to know that I'm listening?
To be honest, I'm not sure what the answer is. But the undeniable truth of life #34 is this: We want to be heard. We want to be understood.
And as long as we're willing to understand others, as well as seek to be understood, there's nothing wrong with that that I can see.
And to think...it only took me 20 years to figure that out!
From the Prayer of St. Francis:
"O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand."
So, what did I do that was so eye-opening? Did I chew a student out publicly? No. Did I dress down a colleague in the hallway for all to hear? No. Did I suspend a child for not having his shirt tucked in (as I've been often accused of doing), just so I could see what it feels like? No.
I asked parents to come and talk to me about communication at school, and offered them coffee and bagels for their trouble!
That's it!
You would've thought I swam the channel for them, or rescued their children from a burning building!
This morning was, by far, the best parent PR vehicle I've ever accomplished, and it was really no big deal. I began by asking them how many of them had ever been quoted in the local newspaper, or been directly associated with something reported on in the local newspaper. Almost everyone in the room raised his or her hand (there were quite a few dads there, for which I was grateful!). Then, as they kept their hands up, I asked them how many of those news reports got at all of the information right. Every hand immediately went down! Of all those people who had at some point been reported on in the paper, not one of them could state that the story was 100% accurate. Think about that! The point I was trying to make was simple: We think that accuracy in our communication is the norm; but the exact opposite is true. Usually, most communication involves some level of error. In short, miscommunication is the norm.
After letting that soak in (one of the dads said I ruined his whole weekend, as now he won't be able to think about anything else!), we talked about the various ways we teachers and administrators go about communicating, how parents communicate back to us, how we can all do a better job, and what they'd like to talk about in the future.
We had bagels, we drank coffee, we laughed, we shared our thoughts (my wife thinks I offended half the moms there with my Jersey humor), and then we went about our day. No big deal.
But the remarkable thing is how these folks responded to just being heard! They so appreciated me taking time out of my day to listen to them. They were so relieved to have an opportunity to meet with me, but not for the purpose of slogging through some prearranged agenda, or for them to bring me a problem (which is why most people come to see me in the first place).
What is it about us that places such a high value on wanting to be heard? Why is that my daughters and my wife will often-times tell me, "Just listen to me!" (I'm not making a sexist comment here, it's just the fact that my sons don't do this.) Why is it that my wife, when she brings me a problem, frequently doesn't want me to provide a solution, she just wants to know that I'm listening?
To be honest, I'm not sure what the answer is. But the undeniable truth of life #34 is this: We want to be heard. We want to be understood.
And as long as we're willing to understand others, as well as seek to be understood, there's nothing wrong with that that I can see.
And to think...it only took me 20 years to figure that out!
From the Prayer of St. Francis:
"O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand."
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Not for Those Who Need Instant Gratification
I received this email today from a total stranger:
"To the Staff at Rockbridge Academy -
"I wanted to let you know that I was very impressed with your varsity boys soccer team when they visited ECA today. The officiating was poor, yet I did not hear the boys or their coach complain once. They showed class when they took a knee during an injury timeout. Throughout their visit to ECA I saw a wonderful Christian testimony from your boys.
"Please pass this on to the team - At least one parent from ECA was highly impressed with the young Christian men from your school. You all should be proud of your team. I was...and I live 75 miles away and have no affiliation with your school!
"Sincerely,
[Name withheld to protect the innocent]"
You know how people work is, right...? People are...shall we say...less than tidy? And so, the rewards of working with them rarely seem as readily evident as they did when I built my own house. At that time, I'd stand back at the end of each day, look at the walls I put up, run around the new floor with Molly and Seamus, and say, "I did that today. That looks like pretty good work!"
What can I say at the end of each day of headmastering? That was a really good conversation about lying and cheating I had with that little boy today. Glad I fixed that!
It might be years, if ever, before I know that something I said to one of my charges actually sank in and made a difference. Most of the time, I never know.
So when I receive a letter like this, I read it over and over again, before tucking it away.
Don't get me wrong! I realize, as did the Apostle Paul, that it's me who waters and another who plants, but God gives the increase. Praise the Lord for any good fruit that comes from the work He's given me to do.
It's not that I'm looking for credit. It's just nice to have a little reassurance once in a while that my labor isn't in vain.
I need to remember that, since the faculty very often look to me for that same reassurance.
"To the Staff at Rockbridge Academy -
"I wanted to let you know that I was very impressed with your varsity boys soccer team when they visited ECA today. The officiating was poor, yet I did not hear the boys or their coach complain once. They showed class when they took a knee during an injury timeout. Throughout their visit to ECA I saw a wonderful Christian testimony from your boys.
"Please pass this on to the team - At least one parent from ECA was highly impressed with the young Christian men from your school. You all should be proud of your team. I was...and I live 75 miles away and have no affiliation with your school!
"Sincerely,
[Name withheld to protect the innocent]"
You know how people work is, right...? People are...shall we say...less than tidy? And so, the rewards of working with them rarely seem as readily evident as they did when I built my own house. At that time, I'd stand back at the end of each day, look at the walls I put up, run around the new floor with Molly and Seamus, and say, "I did that today. That looks like pretty good work!"
What can I say at the end of each day of headmastering? That was a really good conversation about lying and cheating I had with that little boy today. Glad I fixed that!
It might be years, if ever, before I know that something I said to one of my charges actually sank in and made a difference. Most of the time, I never know.
So when I receive a letter like this, I read it over and over again, before tucking it away.
Don't get me wrong! I realize, as did the Apostle Paul, that it's me who waters and another who plants, but God gives the increase. Praise the Lord for any good fruit that comes from the work He's given me to do.
It's not that I'm looking for credit. It's just nice to have a little reassurance once in a while that my labor isn't in vain.
I need to remember that, since the faculty very often look to me for that same reassurance.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Random Debate Meanderings
I usually look forward to "Town Hall" debates, as the folks typically come up with more interesting questions than the network talking heads. Unfortunately, no such luck. I'm convinced that my idea of voting by essay is the only way to go. Stupid explanation as to why you want your candidate to win? Doesn't count. Spelling, grammar, and mechanics errors? Round file.
Nationalize bad mortgages?!?! Did I just hear John McCain explain that he wants to spend $300 billion purchasing bad mortgages?! We just watched the end of free-market, conservatism.
Both of these guys -- McCain and O'Bama (that's a deliberate apostrophe!) -- have plans that simply pander to the masses, suggesting how they'll give and give to more and more.
Reminds me of a great quote by my favorite misanthrope, and Baltimorean, H.L. Mencken: "If there had been any formidable body of cannibals in the country," he said of Truman's 1948 campaign, "he would have promised to provide them with free missionaries fattened at the taxpayers' expense."
If John McCain needed to change the debate, go for the jugular, and invigorate the conservative base...he failed! Big time! I've been telling my children that, if O'Bama wins, we're moving to Italy. The only question now is...Sicily or Umbria?
Nationalize bad mortgages?!?! Did I just hear John McCain explain that he wants to spend $300 billion purchasing bad mortgages?! We just watched the end of free-market, conservatism.
Both of these guys -- McCain and O'Bama (that's a deliberate apostrophe!) -- have plans that simply pander to the masses, suggesting how they'll give and give to more and more.
Reminds me of a great quote by my favorite misanthrope, and Baltimorean, H.L. Mencken: "If there had been any formidable body of cannibals in the country," he said of Truman's 1948 campaign, "he would have promised to provide them with free missionaries fattened at the taxpayers' expense."
If John McCain needed to change the debate, go for the jugular, and invigorate the conservative base...he failed! Big time! I've been telling my children that, if O'Bama wins, we're moving to Italy. The only question now is...Sicily or Umbria?
Monday, October 6, 2008
McDonald's or Burger King?
If you were to walk into a McDonald's, saunter up to the counter, and casually ask for a...Whopper, what kind of a response do you suppose you'd receive from the gal behind the counter? Okay, maybe that's a little too blunt. Let's put a finer point on it.
Suppose you walked into the same McDonald's and asked for a Big Mac, but you also requested that the kitchen hold the pickles, hold the lettuce, hold the special sauce, and add extra onions. Would you be surprised to hear the gal behind the counter say, "Um...Where do you think you are...Burger King?"
You see, McDonald's is very straight up the middle about what they sell: a Big Mac has two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun. You order a Big Mac, you know that's what you're going to get, and they don't take special orders. Likewise, if you go into Burger King and ask for a Whopper, by all means, tell 'em to hold the onions! They invite you to. And because these two establishments are up front about their products and services, I have no cause for complaint if I walk into McDonald's and find I can't have it my way.
I find this analogy very helpful in the school business as well. At school, I tell you what the school has to offer, what it doesn't have to offer, what the tuition is, what the fees are, who your teachers are; we publish the curriculum and encourage parents to read it. I encourage parents to come to school programs and sit in on classes so they can see what's going on. So that, when someone comes to me and says, "You're teaching six-day creationism? Don't you realize the scientific difficulties with that?" or "All of your teachers don't have degrees in their fields. That's a problem," I address their concerns, of course, but at the end of the day, if they believe that my answers are unsatisfactory, or that their children are receiving an inferior education..."Hey! You're in McDonald's! Burger King is down the street!"
I mean, seriously. Have I been deceptive with these folks? Aren't our teachers' bios on our website? Isn't our curriculum published and on display in the main office? Even if they don't want to buy a copy, all they have to do is ask to borrow one, and they can know everything they want to know about what it is we teach. We have no secrets! We tell no lies! Purchase the service or don't, but why stay and demand that it be something I never said it was going to be in the first place?
Now don't get me wrong...I'm not talking about bringing me legitimate concerns, or bringing something to my attention that you think might be out of order. If you think there's a better way to grade math facts, I want to hear about it. If you think our students are not supplied with enough leadership opportunities, let me know what other ones you'd like to see. Some of the best ideas for improvement come from parents, teachers, and even the students themselves. (Who ever said that I was the fount of all good ideas?!)
What I'm talking about is the determination to demand something that the service provider (in this case, a school) never remotely suggested you were going to get if you purchased that service.
I guess what I'm talking about is the moral superiority of freedom. I have the freedom to build a school according to what I think a good school ought to be. You have the freedom to purchase that service, or go find another one that better suits you. By all means, tell me if the bathroom needs cleaning, or if the mustard and ketchup dispensers are empty. But if you want Buddy's Southern Fried Chicken to serve you falafel, or if you want the Christian school to provide you with teachers who value state certification as proof of good teaching...you might be in the wrong place.
Is it bad of me to suggest such?
Suppose you walked into the same McDonald's and asked for a Big Mac, but you also requested that the kitchen hold the pickles, hold the lettuce, hold the special sauce, and add extra onions. Would you be surprised to hear the gal behind the counter say, "Um...Where do you think you are...Burger King?"
You see, McDonald's is very straight up the middle about what they sell: a Big Mac has two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun. You order a Big Mac, you know that's what you're going to get, and they don't take special orders. Likewise, if you go into Burger King and ask for a Whopper, by all means, tell 'em to hold the onions! They invite you to. And because these two establishments are up front about their products and services, I have no cause for complaint if I walk into McDonald's and find I can't have it my way.
I find this analogy very helpful in the school business as well. At school, I tell you what the school has to offer, what it doesn't have to offer, what the tuition is, what the fees are, who your teachers are; we publish the curriculum and encourage parents to read it. I encourage parents to come to school programs and sit in on classes so they can see what's going on. So that, when someone comes to me and says, "You're teaching six-day creationism? Don't you realize the scientific difficulties with that?" or "All of your teachers don't have degrees in their fields. That's a problem," I address their concerns, of course, but at the end of the day, if they believe that my answers are unsatisfactory, or that their children are receiving an inferior education..."Hey! You're in McDonald's! Burger King is down the street!"
I mean, seriously. Have I been deceptive with these folks? Aren't our teachers' bios on our website? Isn't our curriculum published and on display in the main office? Even if they don't want to buy a copy, all they have to do is ask to borrow one, and they can know everything they want to know about what it is we teach. We have no secrets! We tell no lies! Purchase the service or don't, but why stay and demand that it be something I never said it was going to be in the first place?
Now don't get me wrong...I'm not talking about bringing me legitimate concerns, or bringing something to my attention that you think might be out of order. If you think there's a better way to grade math facts, I want to hear about it. If you think our students are not supplied with enough leadership opportunities, let me know what other ones you'd like to see. Some of the best ideas for improvement come from parents, teachers, and even the students themselves. (Who ever said that I was the fount of all good ideas?!)
What I'm talking about is the determination to demand something that the service provider (in this case, a school) never remotely suggested you were going to get if you purchased that service.
I guess what I'm talking about is the moral superiority of freedom. I have the freedom to build a school according to what I think a good school ought to be. You have the freedom to purchase that service, or go find another one that better suits you. By all means, tell me if the bathroom needs cleaning, or if the mustard and ketchup dispensers are empty. But if you want Buddy's Southern Fried Chicken to serve you falafel, or if you want the Christian school to provide you with teachers who value state certification as proof of good teaching...you might be in the wrong place.
Is it bad of me to suggest such?
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