At 22, I officially became a paid teacher--thought I had the formula for making kids learn. At 22, I was confronted with my first English class--little did I know that several of those students could barely read and write coherent sentences as high school juniors. At 22, I began my journey into education--lessons began being taught, oftentimes the hard way.
Today I look on those early years with a smile; I had the great fortune to be "taken under the wings" of many peers who cemented my foundation by teaching me to have fun, to be a professional, and to retain my sense of humor. Much to their credit, I was free to share my experiences--enriching and humbling--without the feeling of being unfairly judged. Those teachers at Newcomerstown High School shaped me, and, to this day, I am certainly grateful for their unofficial mentoring. They "adopted" me because they cared about me, their students, and, most importantly, their profession--they evidently saw me as a link to the future, one who could carry on what they were fostering in me. About fifteen years after my start, I began to understand that point.
After five years, I moved to Strasburg High School where my development continued. There, I was so fortunate to work with peers who were "hungry," who were aspiring to greater heights, who wanted to be successful, and who were willing to "pay the price" to achieve. In short, I was part of a staff that truly had a genuine respect for one another and a collegiality second to none. We liked each other, we laughed together, and we succeeded in excelling at a high level. Our administration was outstanding--no secrets were held. Our principal and superintendent kept us informed, and when we needed corrected or reigned in, it was done face to face with no hidden agendas--trust was the glue. In time, though, many of us aspired for new challenges--I was one of those. Before leaving for my next spot at Dover High School, though, I knew I was departing a special place--that is why even today I laugh when people ridicule small schools. Yes, disadvantages are present, but the intimate atmosphere of small class sizes allowed so much quality teaching. My teaching span at Strasburg was ten years, years I cherish even today. Fifteen years after my start, I began to understand this teaching game.
My superintendent at Strasburg had often told me that "you never really grow in your profession until you're in your third job." Truthfully, I never caught the true message of that logic . . . until I began my third job. From there I began to grow in so many ways: I had experience, I had confidence, I had an understanding of how kids learned, and I had established my own comfort zone for how I wanted to teach. Fifteen years it had taken me to get past my sometimes overzealous approach to teaching and learning, my occasional too-quick-to-draw-conclusions mentality, and my periodic mentality of teaching material instead of kids. After fifteen years, I began to get the picture.
What I learned is that if I were going to be effective I had to demonstrate a command of my material; yes, I know that is so obvious, but if I wanted kids to become quality writers I had to do more than say, "You need to proofread better . . . to read more frequently . . . to learn your grammar . . . to practice your skills." My challenge became how do I do that? Oh, I read a bunch, but, in truth, none of the strategies seemed to fit my personality. Thus, my challenge became to find my own way, adapt teaching methods that most kids could relate to, yet still allow my personality to shine through. You see, I could not have done that early in my career simply because I was not that comfortable with me. To state it bluntly, I had to fail before I could succeed. When I finally had hit that sweet spot, my love of teaching truly blossomed.
I make no secrets of the fact that I loved teaching high school. The daily interaction with kids who have their adult lives before them certainly was challenging but, boy, was it rewarding. Part of teaching is pushing students to achieve, oftentimes in ways they do not want perhaps because they do not see the long-term benefits. However, a larger part of teaching is developing relationships with kids; I made a point of telling them that when they were my students we were not friends--friendly, yes, but not friends. When they graduated, we could become friends, but that gap always had to be present when they were students. Nonetheless, watching kids smile and interact, watching their personalities unfold, and watching their drive and determination surface were the rewards I received. So many students, of course, have been misguided by the environments they were raised or the friends they acquired, but occasionally I would see a few of those kids escape their trappings. Again, the rewards of teaching cannot be measured like a business's success--teaching's rewards are in human accomplishment, sometimes small and insignificant to an outsider but to teachers who know their kids those rewards are what we seek.
It took me about fifteen years, but for the next twenty years that I was fortunate enough to teach, I grew as a teacher. From watching intelligent and unique peers to discovering more about myself, I found my niche. Dover High School allowed me to practice my craft in an environment where excellence was expected, where standards were high, and where a professional environment was nurtured. When I retired after thirty-five years in education, I knew my high school journey was complete. Finishing my third job, I understood what Al Osler (Strasburg superintendent when I was there) had told me--I had become what I had hoped for . . . and I had an abundance of influence from peers who had shaped me. To conclude in a rather blunt way, my message can be interpreted in this way and is specifically designed for young teachers: Pay your dues, and learn!
Monday, December 29, 2014
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Perception Is Reality . . . Isn't It?
Are educators perceived as professionals?
I would think if any teacher/administrator were asked that question, the response would be an overwhelming "YES!" I would expect nothing to the contrary. However, if the taxpaying public were asked that same question, I suspect the majority would disagree for a variety of reasons . . . and that is where the disconnect occurs.
To begin this discussion, I must first explain a few key points:
*As my readers know, I am a retired public school teacher; as a result, my occasional bias toward the profession is genuine;
*Many of my friends and acquaintances outside the school building are not educators; thus, their views often conflict with mine.
*As a result of my interactions with both educators and non-educators, I can clearly see that how we (as educators) often view ourselves is not how everyone does . . . and that is why I am exploring this topic.
Writing on this sensitive matter is akin to walking through a field of landmines . . . moving gently forward but knowing possible danger lies ahead. Let me explore a few timeworn comments I have heard from others:
*You (educators) get three months off in the summer;
*You get holiday vacations;
*You get snow days;
*You get . . . fill in the blank.
I find myself cringing as I write those words, but these are the standard criticisms leveled toward teachers. While I find myself shaking my head at the aforementioned remarks, I do understand them because the majority of our working world do not always share those work perks . . . they get perks (time and a half, double time, . . .), but certainly not the same ones as educators. I get that, but, obviously, more details remain to be explored. Although many may attack the so-called easy life that teachers are perceived as living, that has little to do with my focus in this writing. I am not saying teachers are this and teachers are that and we should show more appreciation toward them; instead, I want to head in a slightly different direction.
The word professional has strong implications; doctors, nurses, and lawyers come to mind when I categorize how most people view professionals because their career choices require exit exams, ongoing education, personal interaction with the public, and, most frequently, confidentiality. Teachers--like doctors, nurses, and lawyers--must meet the same qualifications listed above. At one time long ago, teachers were highly regarded as professionals . . . but did something happen to alter that? I contend that--in the public's eyes--the answer is yes; in many ways, we as educators have contributed to our own perception. Being so bold to say that, I must explain my logic:
*Personal Appearance--I admit to being old school with various quirks as a result, but I am a firm believer in the adage of dressing for success. As a young teacher at Strasburg High School many years ago, I clearly remember my superintendent, Al Osler, gently reminding me that if I wanted to be treated as a professional then I had better dress as one. Watching my administrators wear suits/sport coats and ties every day was impressive; likewise, watching my male peers wear shirts and ties made an impact. I am not so naïve, however, as to think that just because a man wears a tie that he is automatically a quality teacher--I get that, and I also do not mean to imply that certain jobs within a school should require a tie (physical education, art, and industrial technology come to mind). What I am saying is that when we do not dress professionally, it merely provides the public with more ammunition to say we aren't professional because we look just like anyone else. I must stress that public schools rely on the support of communities, and those taxpayers are frequently quick to judge us in a negative light, deserved or not. When I wear a golf shirt to school, I am not so sure that I am sending the signal that I am a professional educator. (Many schools have "dress down days" where employees pay a fee toward a specific charity--I am not talking about those occasional times.) My financial advisors--bankers and investors--wear suits every time I meet with them; my doctor wears a shirt and tie under his lab coat; when I have consulted with an attorney, he is wearing a suit. My point should be obvious: If I want to be perceived as a professional, like the aforementioned, I need to at least look the role. My hunch--with no true facts to support it--is that if the perception is genuine, it will go a long way in influencing my standing within the community as well as with my students. One other point before I move on: Female educators who dress sharply ooze with professionalism; knowing that they take considerable pride in how they are perceived--just as with males--plays such an important role in how others view them.
*Public Comments--Human nature seems to indicate that we like to talk; I could probably go out on the proverbial limb and say we like to be heard. How often have we been in a conversation when the other person is already talking before we are done making our point? (Score that as one of my major weaknesses, as my wife tells me repeatedly to shut up and let her finish talking!) As educators, we frequently overstep our boundaries by making public comments that expose us to criticism (been there done that, by the way). Our often openly-stated wishes for snow days, for example, immediately send a negative signal to non-educators because they don't live in the same little world we do. Snow days in their work world are practically nonexistent and require them to find babysitters, to alter their everyday lives . . . ; to teachers, it mostly means a day off (even though we may be grading or preparing how to consolidate our lessons into fewer days) . . . non-teachers don't want to hear about our wishes. Additionally, we are occasionally guilty of sharing a bit too much information; while I attest that this is not peculiar to just the teaching profession, we certainly learn that parents do not want their kids' issues being discussed too openly. With the responsibility of teaching comes the responsibility of oftentimes keeping our personal observations, thoughts, and wishes to ourselves--when we step outside those boundaries, we are risking unnecessary criticism, particularly when we bring it on ourselves.
*Writing Skills--As an English teacher, I am heavily biased about this point. Simply stated, if we are professionals, we are expected to clearly understand how the English language works and to produce clear manuscripts that are distributed to our students via handouts, to scholarship committee members via recommendation letters, to our students' parents via written communication, and to our administrators and peers via occasional professional correspondence. It boils down to this: Can we write well? Allow me to answer my own question: Not always. I say that not as a criticism simply because all of us are wired differently--stereotypically, math teachers, for example, are not strong writers. Their minds are not "word-oriented"; rather, their minds are "number-oriented," thus making them experts in their field. (Conversely, most English teachers are weak in math!) We all know that humans have their niches; it is a rare occasion when someone has the whole package. However, when the public reads a teacher's correspondence that is poorly written, an immediate negative reaction is triggered. From my seat, it all comes down to knowing our strengths and weaknesses; when I need help with my taxes, I go to a tax preparer just as when I have a household plumbing problem, I call a plumber. As a teacher, if I know I am not a good writer, then I need to be sure to have a strong editor who can correct and improve my writing before it meets the public. When manuscripts are presented, they have to be reflective of competent writers whether we have edited the documents ourselves or whether we have had editorial help. With grammar mistakes, misspelled words, and confusing points present, the reading public is quick to pounce.
I suppose one could read this blog today and be quick to judge me as putting myself on a pedestal . . . that person would be wrong but not too far off. Maintaining the professionalism of educators is an important priority in my life--I don't want others criticizing us when we have control over certain elements. Facing the facts, I know that various situations arise where we are going to get criticized or perceived unfairly, warranted or not; however, presenting a positive, professional image is under our control, and I contend--paraphrasing my previously-mentioned mentor--if we want to be perceived as pros, then we had better hold up our end of the bargain!
mag.gunther@gmail.com
I would think if any teacher/administrator were asked that question, the response would be an overwhelming "YES!" I would expect nothing to the contrary. However, if the taxpaying public were asked that same question, I suspect the majority would disagree for a variety of reasons . . . and that is where the disconnect occurs.
To begin this discussion, I must first explain a few key points:
*As my readers know, I am a retired public school teacher; as a result, my occasional bias toward the profession is genuine;
*Many of my friends and acquaintances outside the school building are not educators; thus, their views often conflict with mine.
*As a result of my interactions with both educators and non-educators, I can clearly see that how we (as educators) often view ourselves is not how everyone does . . . and that is why I am exploring this topic.
Writing on this sensitive matter is akin to walking through a field of landmines . . . moving gently forward but knowing possible danger lies ahead. Let me explore a few timeworn comments I have heard from others:
*You (educators) get three months off in the summer;
*You get holiday vacations;
*You get snow days;
*You get . . . fill in the blank.
I find myself cringing as I write those words, but these are the standard criticisms leveled toward teachers. While I find myself shaking my head at the aforementioned remarks, I do understand them because the majority of our working world do not always share those work perks . . . they get perks (time and a half, double time, . . .), but certainly not the same ones as educators. I get that, but, obviously, more details remain to be explored. Although many may attack the so-called easy life that teachers are perceived as living, that has little to do with my focus in this writing. I am not saying teachers are this and teachers are that and we should show more appreciation toward them; instead, I want to head in a slightly different direction.
The word professional has strong implications; doctors, nurses, and lawyers come to mind when I categorize how most people view professionals because their career choices require exit exams, ongoing education, personal interaction with the public, and, most frequently, confidentiality. Teachers--like doctors, nurses, and lawyers--must meet the same qualifications listed above. At one time long ago, teachers were highly regarded as professionals . . . but did something happen to alter that? I contend that--in the public's eyes--the answer is yes; in many ways, we as educators have contributed to our own perception. Being so bold to say that, I must explain my logic:
*Personal Appearance--I admit to being old school with various quirks as a result, but I am a firm believer in the adage of dressing for success. As a young teacher at Strasburg High School many years ago, I clearly remember my superintendent, Al Osler, gently reminding me that if I wanted to be treated as a professional then I had better dress as one. Watching my administrators wear suits/sport coats and ties every day was impressive; likewise, watching my male peers wear shirts and ties made an impact. I am not so naïve, however, as to think that just because a man wears a tie that he is automatically a quality teacher--I get that, and I also do not mean to imply that certain jobs within a school should require a tie (physical education, art, and industrial technology come to mind). What I am saying is that when we do not dress professionally, it merely provides the public with more ammunition to say we aren't professional because we look just like anyone else. I must stress that public schools rely on the support of communities, and those taxpayers are frequently quick to judge us in a negative light, deserved or not. When I wear a golf shirt to school, I am not so sure that I am sending the signal that I am a professional educator. (Many schools have "dress down days" where employees pay a fee toward a specific charity--I am not talking about those occasional times.) My financial advisors--bankers and investors--wear suits every time I meet with them; my doctor wears a shirt and tie under his lab coat; when I have consulted with an attorney, he is wearing a suit. My point should be obvious: If I want to be perceived as a professional, like the aforementioned, I need to at least look the role. My hunch--with no true facts to support it--is that if the perception is genuine, it will go a long way in influencing my standing within the community as well as with my students. One other point before I move on: Female educators who dress sharply ooze with professionalism; knowing that they take considerable pride in how they are perceived--just as with males--plays such an important role in how others view them.
*Public Comments--Human nature seems to indicate that we like to talk; I could probably go out on the proverbial limb and say we like to be heard. How often have we been in a conversation when the other person is already talking before we are done making our point? (Score that as one of my major weaknesses, as my wife tells me repeatedly to shut up and let her finish talking!) As educators, we frequently overstep our boundaries by making public comments that expose us to criticism (been there done that, by the way). Our often openly-stated wishes for snow days, for example, immediately send a negative signal to non-educators because they don't live in the same little world we do. Snow days in their work world are practically nonexistent and require them to find babysitters, to alter their everyday lives . . . ; to teachers, it mostly means a day off (even though we may be grading or preparing how to consolidate our lessons into fewer days) . . . non-teachers don't want to hear about our wishes. Additionally, we are occasionally guilty of sharing a bit too much information; while I attest that this is not peculiar to just the teaching profession, we certainly learn that parents do not want their kids' issues being discussed too openly. With the responsibility of teaching comes the responsibility of oftentimes keeping our personal observations, thoughts, and wishes to ourselves--when we step outside those boundaries, we are risking unnecessary criticism, particularly when we bring it on ourselves.
*Writing Skills--As an English teacher, I am heavily biased about this point. Simply stated, if we are professionals, we are expected to clearly understand how the English language works and to produce clear manuscripts that are distributed to our students via handouts, to scholarship committee members via recommendation letters, to our students' parents via written communication, and to our administrators and peers via occasional professional correspondence. It boils down to this: Can we write well? Allow me to answer my own question: Not always. I say that not as a criticism simply because all of us are wired differently--stereotypically, math teachers, for example, are not strong writers. Their minds are not "word-oriented"; rather, their minds are "number-oriented," thus making them experts in their field. (Conversely, most English teachers are weak in math!) We all know that humans have their niches; it is a rare occasion when someone has the whole package. However, when the public reads a teacher's correspondence that is poorly written, an immediate negative reaction is triggered. From my seat, it all comes down to knowing our strengths and weaknesses; when I need help with my taxes, I go to a tax preparer just as when I have a household plumbing problem, I call a plumber. As a teacher, if I know I am not a good writer, then I need to be sure to have a strong editor who can correct and improve my writing before it meets the public. When manuscripts are presented, they have to be reflective of competent writers whether we have edited the documents ourselves or whether we have had editorial help. With grammar mistakes, misspelled words, and confusing points present, the reading public is quick to pounce.
I suppose one could read this blog today and be quick to judge me as putting myself on a pedestal . . . that person would be wrong but not too far off. Maintaining the professionalism of educators is an important priority in my life--I don't want others criticizing us when we have control over certain elements. Facing the facts, I know that various situations arise where we are going to get criticized or perceived unfairly, warranted or not; however, presenting a positive, professional image is under our control, and I contend--paraphrasing my previously-mentioned mentor--if we want to be perceived as pros, then we had better hold up our end of the bargain!
mag.gunther@gmail.com
Thursday, December 4, 2014
A Tribute: Charlie Huggins
Because it is the beginning of the high school basketball season, I find it appropriate to pay tribute to a Tuscarawas County coaching icon: Charlie Huggins. Saying thanks is something we typically reserve for Thanksgiving Day--noble but oftentimes quite scripted. Writing this blog, however, allows me the freedom to look back over my life and periodically thank those who have shaped me. Consider this to be the first thank you--more may occasionally surface as time moves on. Also, this tribute runs longer than my normal blog, but I hope it will hold your attention. (Note: Most of what follows was originally written in 2000 and has been published in a book my Dover High School students and I wrote entitled We Couldn't Have Done It Alone . . . Volume II.)
As I have made my way, I have had the wonderful opportunity to have thoroughly enjoyed how I have earned my living. Doors have been opened, relationships have been made, and reputations have been established. Obviously, my parents and their upbringing were instrumental in my development. However, one other person steered me in the right direction. Today, I am paying tribute to a man who influenced me so much.
A taskmaster? Definitely. A teacher? Definitely. A motivator? Definitely. A character? Definitely! It is true I have been motivated by so many people throughout my life, but it is one individual who shaped me, nurtured me, and forced me to see what I could become. That man was Charlie Huggins, the absolute best basketball coach I have ever seen.
The reputation of Coach Huggins certainly preceded him before he became the basketball coach at Indian Valley South High School in the 1970 summer. As a soon-to-be sophomore who loved basketball, I soon realized I would be entering a world I had never before been. In his initial meeting with his players, I heard him explain how the goal was to win the state championship, an ambitious dream yet one that captured my thoughts. Soon thereafter, my classmates and I were making three trips a week to Sherrodsville where Coach Huggins's fledgling basketball camp was located. For the first time, I was in a summer league playing against opponents from other schools and starting on the educational trip of my life. Little did I realize where that trip would lead me.
As my familiarity with the coach increased, so did my respect. I was always in awe of him, and it soon became obvious that if I could only withstand the pressure of playing for him, I would soon join a select club, a somewhat elite club, of those who had survived. He had an aura about him that demanded respect. Whether it was his piercing voice, his impressive knowledge, his motivational tactics, his unceasing baiting of officials, or his reputation for winning, we all knew he was the one who was going to make us better players and better individuals than we had been. Simply put, we believed . . . and that was the key.
I would like to say I totally worshipped the man, but in so doing I would not be telling the whole truth. The fact is I went through periods where I literally could not stand him. In the midst of three-to-four hour nightly practices, I found it so easy to wish I were home doing something else, anything but standing in that Port Washington gym listening to him rant and rave about our lack of mental discipline. Moments existed when I wanted nothing more than for him to suddenly "pack up and head out of town." While in those situations, I could not understand his motivational tactics. He had a way of knocking each of us down emotionally and then gradually pulling us back up. What I did not grasp at the time was that he truly knew what made each of us "tick" . . . he knew us better than we knew ourselves. So, while he was knocking us down and preventing us from becoming arrogant over our successes, he was successfully uniting our team. Because none of us were spared, he was forcing us to have one common individual to unify our frustrations: him . . . and not our teammates.
It took me years to understand his strategies, but in time I realized what he had done. He knew each of us was not going to quit, despite our private thoughts of doing just that. Rather, he knew he had what each of us wanted: a winner . . . and he was so right. When the time came for our mental discipline to be exposed, we met the challenge, time after time. Those long nights of practice, those incessant corrections about doing tasks exactly right instead of almost right, and the constant repetition of drills had accomplished what he had anticipated. We blossomed into an outstanding team, a 51-1 team, and the primary reason was Coach Huggins.
Simply writing about what I remember from my high school days would encompass so many pages that it would be unfeasible to do so. In addition, the winning my high school teams did is not why I am writing my tribute to Coach Huggins. I am writing this to verify why he has been so invaluable in my life. It has taken me many years to sit down and say what I have wanted to this man, so this tribute is long overdue. To Coach Charlie Huggins, I proudly write these words:
Coach, thanks for kicking me (figuratively) in the hind end when I was playing for you. Your persistence in instilling a work ethic has never left me, and I truly realize that self-discipline is such an integral part of individual success.
Coach, thanks for making me learn basketball; I do not mean just the X and O part of the game--I mean the attention to detail, the importance of execution, and the team concept. When I became a coach, I quickly realized how well prepared I was about the fundamentals of the game. Your devotion to these fundamentals truly made you "a man ahead of your times."
Coach, thanks for allowing a highly average player to reach his ability level. Because you realized there was a role for kid who would work hard for you, you made me feel I could be a part of a great tradition; I have never forgotten that you gave me a tremendous opportunity.
Coach, thanks for teaching me about loyalty. You made it clear--without ever saying it--that if I could endure your coaching, I would have earned a special place in your heart . . . and you have never forgotten.
Coach, thanks for showing me how important it is to always be a student, whether that be academic or athletic. Through your continual devotion to your camp, you were always learning the game so that you would have the edge over your competition. That same principle remained paramount in my professional life; I knew I could not sit idly back and rest on my laurels. The moment that would happen is when I would lose my edge . . . I learned that merely by observing you.
Coach, thanks for remaining loyal to your values. To this day, I have never heard you swear, and I have never heard you waiver from your beliefs. I have learned that a strong man is one who lives by a value system, whether it is identical to yours or not.
Coach, thanks for remaining humble through all those years. Anyone who has ever heard your name has an opinion of you--some complimentary, some not--but all know how great a coach you were. From you, I have learned that the moment success controls me is the moment I begin to become less effective. To continually be working toward success is the sign of humility.
Coach, thanks for your sense of humor. I always knew you would make me laugh in one way or another. That ability to successfully intermix discipline, hard work, and a sense of humor continues to impress me. You had a way of making me realize that when we were done with our work for the evening, we could still enjoy each other's uniqueness. If imitation truly is the sincerest form of flattery, then I have paid you the most sincere compliment simply because I always tried to do the same in my role as a teacher and a coach . . . and it worked.
For all these years, I had wanted to sincerely thank Coach Huggins for his role in my life, but quite frankly, I had always found it so difficult to walk up to the man and express what I had wanted to say. During the 1998 summer, however, I almost cracked. While working his camp to watch our Dover High School basketball players, I was talking with Coach Huggins when he suddenly interrupted our conversation by saying, "Mikey, you should be proud of yourself. You've made yourself into a successful man, a great teacher, and an excellent coach. I'm proud of you."
I absolutely did not know what to say. Quickly, I uttered a thank you, and then both of us were on our way doing something else. What Coach did not realize was that I had waited my whole adult life to hear those words. As I drove home that evening, I could think of nothing but our conversation. Part way home, I realized I had tears running from my eyes. I had won his respect, and his words only cemented the fact that I became who I am today largely because of my relationship with him.
From a skinny high school sophomore to a balding middle-aged man, I have been on an amazing educational trip. The teacher: Charlie Huggins, a man who made his mark on my life and a man whom I truly admire.
Thursday, November 6, 2014
"Ah, These Kids These Days . . ."
"When I was a kid, I never would have been able to get away with that!"
"When I was in school, if I got paddled at school, I'd get the same when I got home!"
"When I went to school, we learned important stuff, not the stuff kids learn today!"
"Kids today don't know anything!"
Any of the above sound familiar?
I am running a risk, but as an educator my view of kids today may run contrary to many of my generation or those slightly older than I. My take is quite simple: Kids today are so much smarter than we ever were . . .we don't like to hear that, I know, but I must stress a key point: They are much smarter in different ways, ones that are important to their world, not the world we planted roots. Now let me add a second part to that statement: Kids today are not overly focused on what "we" think they should be, therefore creating the mentality that kids are not like us . . . and in that I find considerable validity.
Three obvious examples help make my point:
*Penmanship--the teaching of cursive writing is fading. With the exception of our signatures, we seldom cursively write today, so why should we spend time teaching it? It is a dying art.
*Simple Math--who among us does not rely upon calculators and phone apps to do our math for us? I, too, still like to mentally calculate, but I rely upon the calculator to verify my figures. Kids' addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division skills do not carry the importance that they did when we were students. Yes, practical application of those skills (such as understanding how to read a ruler/tape measure) are so crucial in certain lines of work, but times have changed--we rely on technology to do our work for us.
*Map Reading--we rely upon GPS systems, whether they be Garmins or Googles--we hit a button, and, good lord, the GPS even talks to us. What happens if it doesn't work? Of all the times I am on the road, it is a rare occasion when it doesn't; if it does fail, I resort to the old way: I stop at a gas station and ask directions!
My claim is quite obvious: Kids do not need the same intelligence that we did in our era. Simply stated, they are wired differently. However, we love to compare the way we were raised with the way kids are raised today, and we continually conclude that our intelligence supersedes theirs . . . I do not agree. To continue my argument, allow me to focus on the educational system then and now.
*In my day, teachers and students truly were not overly accountable--teachers were not monitored and evaluated dependent upon how their kids did on standardized tests. Yesteryear's teachers did their jobs as they were trained, but they did not have the pressures of meeting state and national standards; likewise, they did not have the added burden of comparison with neighboring schools or other schools within the state. Schools did their educating and went on their merry way. I look back at my education, and even though I was quite pleased with most of my teachers, I still recall the lackadaisical attitude that was allowed to flourish: a teacher making an assignment and retreating to the coaches' room to smoke a pipe, the repeated study halls because a teacher did not want to teach that day, the distribution of worksheets and instructions to complete them . . .I could go on, but my point should be clear: what we remember as being quality education would clearly lead to many of yesteryear's teachers being fired today--again, today, teachers' accountability is paramount. If a teacher does not consistently produce, then that teacher had better re-evaluate and double down on teaching strategies because the end could be approaching.
*Does anyone really remember how important the ACT test was when we went to school? My recollection is that I showed up at New Philadelphia High School on a Saturday morning, took a test, went home, ultimately got my scores, and didn't really care too much about how I had scored. Truthfully, I do not recall a teacher even stressing anything about the test; today, the ACT is a major determiner of college acceptance and financial qualifying. Therefore, students take and retake the test with the hope of scoring higher each time. Classes are devoted to assisting those students, tutors are hired to prep kids in weak areas, and teachers study the test so they can help their students in learning what is on the test. Back in the day, so little attention was devoted to those tests--today's parents expect their kids to score well; when the students fail to do so, it is not unusual for the fingerpointing game to begin: They must not have been taught well. Again, accountability becomes the central issue.
More examples could be made, but I would hope my point has been made: Teachers' accountability is vastly different than it was in my era as a student and as a young teacher.
Another point that must be made involves parenting. Yes, in the day, perhaps our parents were more intimidating and demanding, and I am fairly confident in saying that the onus for learning was on the kid, not the school. Today's world is a bit different simply because today's parents are in many cases extremely vigilant about their kids' education. That has pluses and minuses, but that overseeing does create other issues, most notably kids often relying on their parents stepping to the plate and defending them. One offshoot of that oversight is grade inflation; as stated in my initial blog a few weeks ago, students' main objective is to get "good" grades. My generation likes to think we "were all about learning." Revealing my weakness, I don't remember that--I just wanted a high grade so my parents would stay off my hind end! I don't think that much has changed from the students' perspectives: "Give me a good grade, so my parents are happy." In truth, I do not remember parents rushing to their kids' defense if a grade was not what they desired; today, that often is the first reaction.
My second point is this: Teachers today are under pressure for kids to get "good" grades; as a result, grading scales have been relaxed to ensure that more kids get an "A" (or at least a higher grade) so those students can have a "more positive feeling about themselves," as I have heard many a parent express. I will say this: More kids are getting higher grades than they deserve . . . changing times. As stated, pluses and minuses are part of that, but my experience tells me that parents are much more protective of their kids in today's world. If the kids are getting the grades the parents desire, then all is well with the world. Grade inflation? I guarantee that most parents will say it might happen, "but it hasn't happened with my child." OK, as we like to say today, whatever. We often wonder why children are defensive about so many issues they confront; perhaps it has something to do with the way we are raising them. Let me make this point: One reason the ACT has such added importance is because the same (or similar) test is being taken by all--yes, I understand that test anxiety, time limitation, and so on do play roles. As a result of the test's commonality, though, scores can be legitimately compared, much more convincingly than a student's GPA, which varies from school to school and can be unfairly influenced by lax grading scales and the dreaded "extra credit." In many cases, a kid's ACT score may be a better indicator of the student's skills than his or her GPA. My point: Perhaps we place way too much emphasis on grades than we do actual learning.
Another observation I have made is that somewhere, somehow, sometime, we became convinced that we were stellar, high-achieving, dedicated students during our time. My response is quite simple: How did that happen? If I recall correctly, many of my peers and I did not "set the world on fire" when it came to academic excellence--solid students, yes, but certainly not the highest of achievers. Dedicated? Soul-search for a moment--were we really? I know the boy writing this wasn't. Just as our memory often clouds our past athletic glory, we sometimes misrepresent our own academic strengths. Translated, many of us, including me, were not the students then that we might want to remember ourselves as being.
Now, in regard to one other point: Kids are not overly focused on what we think they should be. I expect kids to be avid readers and skilled writers--most are not. I expect kids to be more productive than just sitting and playing video games--most are not. I expect kids to take their headsets off and verbally communicate--many do not. I expect kids to dress properly and treat others respectfully--many do not. I expect kids to have a strong work ethic--few do. So, let's agree that back in the day our parents might have stepped in and made kids be more compatible with the parents' expectations. Today we are much more lenient with kids because we allow them to "be themselves." Our parents in the day could have cared less about that; for the most part, they wanted us to be like them, so they sometimes demanded, smacked, paddled us into submission. In 2014, parents' control is a bit more limited; translated, many kids get away with a whole bunch more disrespect than "we" would have ever tolerated . . .but please look at our society. Isn't that simply the way it has evolved? Society has forced us to adapt with it whether we want to or not! An additional insight: Review my points in this paragraph--each of the aforementioned is related to how these kids are raised. Pointing our fingers at the schools for not developing the mindset we desire is a cop-out; schools re-enforce, but the character issues are all on the home environment.
As I pull all this together, here is my perspective:
*Kids know more than "we" did;
*"We" like to hang on to the idea that "we" were raised better; instead, I think "we" were raised differently, in a society that was less protective, less promiscuous, and less tolerant;
*"We" might not have been quite as academically dedicated in high school as "we" might like to remember!
*"We" oftentimes judge kids unfairly, but oftentimes it is quite deserved;
*"We" frequently hang on to our convictions because "we" fear what is becoming of this world!
Borrowing a songline from Bye, Bye Birdie, "What's the matter with these kids these days?". . . the kids are different in certain ways, but the real point is it's a different world!
"When I was in school, if I got paddled at school, I'd get the same when I got home!"
"When I went to school, we learned important stuff, not the stuff kids learn today!"
"Kids today don't know anything!"
Any of the above sound familiar?
I am running a risk, but as an educator my view of kids today may run contrary to many of my generation or those slightly older than I. My take is quite simple: Kids today are so much smarter than we ever were . . .we don't like to hear that, I know, but I must stress a key point: They are much smarter in different ways, ones that are important to their world, not the world we planted roots. Now let me add a second part to that statement: Kids today are not overly focused on what "we" think they should be, therefore creating the mentality that kids are not like us . . . and in that I find considerable validity.
Three obvious examples help make my point:
*Penmanship--the teaching of cursive writing is fading. With the exception of our signatures, we seldom cursively write today, so why should we spend time teaching it? It is a dying art.
*Simple Math--who among us does not rely upon calculators and phone apps to do our math for us? I, too, still like to mentally calculate, but I rely upon the calculator to verify my figures. Kids' addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division skills do not carry the importance that they did when we were students. Yes, practical application of those skills (such as understanding how to read a ruler/tape measure) are so crucial in certain lines of work, but times have changed--we rely on technology to do our work for us.
*Map Reading--we rely upon GPS systems, whether they be Garmins or Googles--we hit a button, and, good lord, the GPS even talks to us. What happens if it doesn't work? Of all the times I am on the road, it is a rare occasion when it doesn't; if it does fail, I resort to the old way: I stop at a gas station and ask directions!
My claim is quite obvious: Kids do not need the same intelligence that we did in our era. Simply stated, they are wired differently. However, we love to compare the way we were raised with the way kids are raised today, and we continually conclude that our intelligence supersedes theirs . . . I do not agree. To continue my argument, allow me to focus on the educational system then and now.
*In my day, teachers and students truly were not overly accountable--teachers were not monitored and evaluated dependent upon how their kids did on standardized tests. Yesteryear's teachers did their jobs as they were trained, but they did not have the pressures of meeting state and national standards; likewise, they did not have the added burden of comparison with neighboring schools or other schools within the state. Schools did their educating and went on their merry way. I look back at my education, and even though I was quite pleased with most of my teachers, I still recall the lackadaisical attitude that was allowed to flourish: a teacher making an assignment and retreating to the coaches' room to smoke a pipe, the repeated study halls because a teacher did not want to teach that day, the distribution of worksheets and instructions to complete them . . .I could go on, but my point should be clear: what we remember as being quality education would clearly lead to many of yesteryear's teachers being fired today--again, today, teachers' accountability is paramount. If a teacher does not consistently produce, then that teacher had better re-evaluate and double down on teaching strategies because the end could be approaching.
*Does anyone really remember how important the ACT test was when we went to school? My recollection is that I showed up at New Philadelphia High School on a Saturday morning, took a test, went home, ultimately got my scores, and didn't really care too much about how I had scored. Truthfully, I do not recall a teacher even stressing anything about the test; today, the ACT is a major determiner of college acceptance and financial qualifying. Therefore, students take and retake the test with the hope of scoring higher each time. Classes are devoted to assisting those students, tutors are hired to prep kids in weak areas, and teachers study the test so they can help their students in learning what is on the test. Back in the day, so little attention was devoted to those tests--today's parents expect their kids to score well; when the students fail to do so, it is not unusual for the fingerpointing game to begin: They must not have been taught well. Again, accountability becomes the central issue.
More examples could be made, but I would hope my point has been made: Teachers' accountability is vastly different than it was in my era as a student and as a young teacher.
Another point that must be made involves parenting. Yes, in the day, perhaps our parents were more intimidating and demanding, and I am fairly confident in saying that the onus for learning was on the kid, not the school. Today's world is a bit different simply because today's parents are in many cases extremely vigilant about their kids' education. That has pluses and minuses, but that overseeing does create other issues, most notably kids often relying on their parents stepping to the plate and defending them. One offshoot of that oversight is grade inflation; as stated in my initial blog a few weeks ago, students' main objective is to get "good" grades. My generation likes to think we "were all about learning." Revealing my weakness, I don't remember that--I just wanted a high grade so my parents would stay off my hind end! I don't think that much has changed from the students' perspectives: "Give me a good grade, so my parents are happy." In truth, I do not remember parents rushing to their kids' defense if a grade was not what they desired; today, that often is the first reaction.
My second point is this: Teachers today are under pressure for kids to get "good" grades; as a result, grading scales have been relaxed to ensure that more kids get an "A" (or at least a higher grade) so those students can have a "more positive feeling about themselves," as I have heard many a parent express. I will say this: More kids are getting higher grades than they deserve . . . changing times. As stated, pluses and minuses are part of that, but my experience tells me that parents are much more protective of their kids in today's world. If the kids are getting the grades the parents desire, then all is well with the world. Grade inflation? I guarantee that most parents will say it might happen, "but it hasn't happened with my child." OK, as we like to say today, whatever. We often wonder why children are defensive about so many issues they confront; perhaps it has something to do with the way we are raising them. Let me make this point: One reason the ACT has such added importance is because the same (or similar) test is being taken by all--yes, I understand that test anxiety, time limitation, and so on do play roles. As a result of the test's commonality, though, scores can be legitimately compared, much more convincingly than a student's GPA, which varies from school to school and can be unfairly influenced by lax grading scales and the dreaded "extra credit." In many cases, a kid's ACT score may be a better indicator of the student's skills than his or her GPA. My point: Perhaps we place way too much emphasis on grades than we do actual learning.
Another observation I have made is that somewhere, somehow, sometime, we became convinced that we were stellar, high-achieving, dedicated students during our time. My response is quite simple: How did that happen? If I recall correctly, many of my peers and I did not "set the world on fire" when it came to academic excellence--solid students, yes, but certainly not the highest of achievers. Dedicated? Soul-search for a moment--were we really? I know the boy writing this wasn't. Just as our memory often clouds our past athletic glory, we sometimes misrepresent our own academic strengths. Translated, many of us, including me, were not the students then that we might want to remember ourselves as being.
Now, in regard to one other point: Kids are not overly focused on what we think they should be. I expect kids to be avid readers and skilled writers--most are not. I expect kids to be more productive than just sitting and playing video games--most are not. I expect kids to take their headsets off and verbally communicate--many do not. I expect kids to dress properly and treat others respectfully--many do not. I expect kids to have a strong work ethic--few do. So, let's agree that back in the day our parents might have stepped in and made kids be more compatible with the parents' expectations. Today we are much more lenient with kids because we allow them to "be themselves." Our parents in the day could have cared less about that; for the most part, they wanted us to be like them, so they sometimes demanded, smacked, paddled us into submission. In 2014, parents' control is a bit more limited; translated, many kids get away with a whole bunch more disrespect than "we" would have ever tolerated . . .but please look at our society. Isn't that simply the way it has evolved? Society has forced us to adapt with it whether we want to or not! An additional insight: Review my points in this paragraph--each of the aforementioned is related to how these kids are raised. Pointing our fingers at the schools for not developing the mindset we desire is a cop-out; schools re-enforce, but the character issues are all on the home environment.
As I pull all this together, here is my perspective:
*Kids know more than "we" did;
*"We" like to hang on to the idea that "we" were raised better; instead, I think "we" were raised differently, in a society that was less protective, less promiscuous, and less tolerant;
*"We" might not have been quite as academically dedicated in high school as "we" might like to remember!
*"We" oftentimes judge kids unfairly, but oftentimes it is quite deserved;
*"We" frequently hang on to our convictions because "we" fear what is becoming of this world!
Borrowing a songline from Bye, Bye Birdie, "What's the matter with these kids these days?". . . the kids are different in certain ways, but the real point is it's a different world!
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Our Society Does Not Value Education
For those who are familiar with my Facebook blogs posted in the 2014 winter, a few of my T-R postings will sound familiar. I will gradually be mixing the new entries with the previously displayed blog postings.
For years, I have read and enjoyed conversational writers who have made me smile, ticked me off, or, at the least, made me think. Inspired by many, I have always been intrigued by writers who "stir the pot"--local writer Dick Farrell; syndicated columnists Gene Lyons, Cal Thomas, Kathleen Parker; and deceased icons Art Buchwald, Mike Royko, Hal Lebovitz--and the best of them all, Lewis Grizzard--have influenced my thinking, my perspective, and my writing. Well, today, I am making a grand leap into their world of writing publicly. Lord knows if it will be read by anyone--let alone perceived as favorable or not. I am going to take a shot and see where it lands.
I have read many others' blogs--some intrigue me, but many, unfortunately, do not. I hope mine does not deteriorate into mere rehashes of what I am doing or where I have been. Safe to say, I have many opinions--many substantiated and defendable--but I also have viewpoints that I don't know enough about to really want to argue with anyone. Having said that, here is what I have learned that reading audiences appreciate: give them something to think about, make the writing easy to read in 5-7 minutes, try to interject a bit of humor when possible, use everyday words, and take a stand. So, with those objectives in mind, here is my initial blog in Views from the Hot Seat!
Our society does not value education--simply stated, but I firmly believe it. Few of us will ever admit to feeling that way, but I have watched people for a lifetime, most notably in my 35 years of teaching English in Ohio's public schools, and I can tell you that what is valued is good grades. I ask the question: Are we learning while we are being educated? Certainly, many do prize learning as their central objective, but those clearly stand out from the majority. Getting good grades is the priority, always has been. Today, however, those convinced that public schools are greedy machines designed to bankrupt the locals have begun to overrun the logical viewpoint that receiving a quality education is a gift, one that will set the table for years to come for anyone who embraces it. Instead, so many of our learners are convinced that if we just get good grades, we will be fine. Example: the deterioration of the English language is frightening--yes, I am an English teacher so I do have an informed bias, but the lack of language control by young writers is disturbing. However, the need for a good grade far exceeds most students' willingness to learn how to write . . . and I am not talking about memorizing the parts of speech, phrases, and clauses.
Figuring out where all this starts is fairly easy to pinpoint: the reluctance to read. I would be a rich man if I were paid for how many times I have heard people say that they don't read a newspaper because "there's nothing in it anymore." I don't get it--I have loved newspapers since I was a kid, beginning with the sports page in The Daily Times, the comic strip characters of Joe Palooka and Buzz Sawyer, and yes, the numerous divorce reasons of "extreme cruelty and gross neglect of duty" (never quite understood what that meant, but I think it probably had something to do with the sex life had gone out the window), which used to be published on a weekly basis--that's right, my friends, I clearly remember a paragraph about each divorce being in the newspaper! You see, my education began with reading probably because my parents subscribed to two newspapers and numerous magazines, and they got books religiously from the local Gnadenhutten Public Library. I hope you clearly get my point: we say we want our kids to be educated, but growing up in a society where one of the most important skills we can grasp is basically ignored simply sets us up for being uninformed . . . and when people are uninformed, they become bogged down with opinions with little substance to their viewpoints.
Talking to most people about education typically turns into a discussion about how teachers and administrators are overpaid . . .; translated, so many viewpoints are limited in perspective so to intelligently discuss education's role constantly reverts to money. At some point, I will discuss that topic, but that certainly deviates from my point today. If we want to improve education, I suggest we begin with the written word . . . read . . .it's a starting point.
For years, I have read and enjoyed conversational writers who have made me smile, ticked me off, or, at the least, made me think. Inspired by many, I have always been intrigued by writers who "stir the pot"--local writer Dick Farrell; syndicated columnists Gene Lyons, Cal Thomas, Kathleen Parker; and deceased icons Art Buchwald, Mike Royko, Hal Lebovitz--and the best of them all, Lewis Grizzard--have influenced my thinking, my perspective, and my writing. Well, today, I am making a grand leap into their world of writing publicly. Lord knows if it will be read by anyone--let alone perceived as favorable or not. I am going to take a shot and see where it lands.
I have read many others' blogs--some intrigue me, but many, unfortunately, do not. I hope mine does not deteriorate into mere rehashes of what I am doing or where I have been. Safe to say, I have many opinions--many substantiated and defendable--but I also have viewpoints that I don't know enough about to really want to argue with anyone. Having said that, here is what I have learned that reading audiences appreciate: give them something to think about, make the writing easy to read in 5-7 minutes, try to interject a bit of humor when possible, use everyday words, and take a stand. So, with those objectives in mind, here is my initial blog in Views from the Hot Seat!
Our society does not value education--simply stated, but I firmly believe it. Few of us will ever admit to feeling that way, but I have watched people for a lifetime, most notably in my 35 years of teaching English in Ohio's public schools, and I can tell you that what is valued is good grades. I ask the question: Are we learning while we are being educated? Certainly, many do prize learning as their central objective, but those clearly stand out from the majority. Getting good grades is the priority, always has been. Today, however, those convinced that public schools are greedy machines designed to bankrupt the locals have begun to overrun the logical viewpoint that receiving a quality education is a gift, one that will set the table for years to come for anyone who embraces it. Instead, so many of our learners are convinced that if we just get good grades, we will be fine. Example: the deterioration of the English language is frightening--yes, I am an English teacher so I do have an informed bias, but the lack of language control by young writers is disturbing. However, the need for a good grade far exceeds most students' willingness to learn how to write . . . and I am not talking about memorizing the parts of speech, phrases, and clauses.
Figuring out where all this starts is fairly easy to pinpoint: the reluctance to read. I would be a rich man if I were paid for how many times I have heard people say that they don't read a newspaper because "there's nothing in it anymore." I don't get it--I have loved newspapers since I was a kid, beginning with the sports page in The Daily Times, the comic strip characters of Joe Palooka and Buzz Sawyer, and yes, the numerous divorce reasons of "extreme cruelty and gross neglect of duty" (never quite understood what that meant, but I think it probably had something to do with the sex life had gone out the window), which used to be published on a weekly basis--that's right, my friends, I clearly remember a paragraph about each divorce being in the newspaper! You see, my education began with reading probably because my parents subscribed to two newspapers and numerous magazines, and they got books religiously from the local Gnadenhutten Public Library. I hope you clearly get my point: we say we want our kids to be educated, but growing up in a society where one of the most important skills we can grasp is basically ignored simply sets us up for being uninformed . . . and when people are uninformed, they become bogged down with opinions with little substance to their viewpoints.
Talking to most people about education typically turns into a discussion about how teachers and administrators are overpaid . . .; translated, so many viewpoints are limited in perspective so to intelligently discuss education's role constantly reverts to money. At some point, I will discuss that topic, but that certainly deviates from my point today. If we want to improve education, I suggest we begin with the written word . . . read . . .it's a starting point.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
"So, How's Retirement?" (and final comments on the Dover Bond Issue)
Summer is rapidly approaching; translated, precious little time will be spent in front of a computer, but much time will be spent outside running, biking, golfing, mowing, lounging--you get the picture. Here's hoping you have enjoyed my entries this year. If you have missed any and would like to see them, please visit my Facebook page or michaelagunther.blogspot.com. I hope to return to "Views from the Hot Seat" sometime near the end of 2014--enjoy your summer!
.....
I like people . . . most of them anyway. As a result, I frequently enjoy conversation about a variety of topics: ones I really know, ones I partially know, and even ones I sometimes have a hard time following. Bottom line is I enjoy talking (surprised?), and I also enjoy listening, although my wife tells me I still have "room to grow" in that area. Well, since I have been retired, the one question I have most frequently been asked is "So, how's retirement?" The truth is I appreciate people taking the time to ask because at this point in my life it is a great conversation starter . . . seems to beat the ol' standby of talking about the weather. Therefore, to set the record straight and as I conclude my first academic year of retirement, here is my reaction to that question (with a bit of lead-in to go with it):
First, I retired not because I really wanted to--the State Teachers' Retirement System basically forced the issue. Due to my having taught thirty-five years in the public schools, if I had worked another year, I would have had to take less money in my yearly pension for the balance of my life--common sense, of course, dictated that was not a wise economic decision. Thus, I submitted my paperwork to the proper officials, "crossed my t's and dotted my i's," and prepared for my next act. Walking away from my students and my peers was not easy, believe me. I had made my living and earned my reputation because of my interplay with those people--it was a rare day when I did not look forward to those interactions. A mutual respect creates a healthy work environment . . . and that is exactly what I had experienced throughout my career. However, I knew because of my antsy personality that simply walking away was not for me. Instead, I had to have something to go to . . .but how to get "there" was the challenge. Thus began the next part of my life.
I had always wanted to teach at the college level; in fact, my Master's Degree had an emphasis on college administration--the intrigue of a college campus was ingrained in me when I was at Kent State University as an undergrad--I loved it. Because of that longtime interest, I set my sights on getting hired at that level; fortunately, for me, Walsh University was impressed with my credentials and hired me as an adjunct English professor for the 2013-2014 academic year, allowing me to teach three introductory writing classes during the fall semester and two during the spring semester (additionally, I have been hired for the 2014-2015 academic year). As of this writing, I am thrilled that I am working there--differences certainly exist, but that sounds like an entry for another day. By getting out of bed every day and heading to classes of students, I am still doing what I truly enjoy. Answer #1: Retirement is allowing me to expand my experiences and enter a somewhat different, yet quite familiar, world.
My life seemingly has revolved around schedules, primarily those controlled by school bells, which, incidentally, I really never want to hear again. By retiring, I allowed myself the opportunity to create a more flexible lifestyle. As a result, I began golfing more, reuniting with high school teammates and other friends on a regular basis and thoroughly enjoying the camaraderie; also, I returned to reading on an everyday basis--when teaching, I found myself constantly reading to merely keep abreast of my classroom obligations. Once retired, I resumed reading whatever I want whenever I want; numerous magazines have always entered our house weekly, so combining those with numerous books has allowed me to be reunited with a lifetime passion. Answer #2: I have found myself enjoying my friends' companionship, and I have rediscovered why reading has always captivated me. I should add that despite my increase in golfing time, my game still struggles . . . hope to get on that this summer!
For many years, I have detailed family and friends' vehicles; therefore, in warmer weather months, I spend considerable time doing just that. Cleaning cars is somewhat of a mindless activity for me yet one I thoroughly enjoy. I put my music on my stereo, letting combinations of all kinds rip through the garage--many times I "put my groove on" and move, particularly when Southside Johnny, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Bob Seger, John Cougar Mellencamp, or Kid Rock are lighting it up. Answer #3: My pride in seeing sharp, shiny vehicles allows me to create just that in an atmosphere I control.
Yet another project has come my way; without divulging details, I was contacted about writing a book reflecting the oral history of an area citizen. Because of my past collaborating with my students in writing a book series focusing on area Vietnam veterans, I was approached about this project. As a result, I am engrossed in this activity and am thoroughly enjoying yet another challenge. Along that same line, I have been proofreading documents for businesses and various individuals, something I do enjoy. Coupled with those interests, I have also been privately tutoring students as they prepare for their ACT English test. Answer #4: New projects are allowing me to use my skills, thus once again giving me goals for which to strive.
Additionally, I have been asked to join the Muskingum Conservancy District Advisory Board; while I am careful not to get too involved in a slew of activities, I grew up in a boating family, enjoying many area lakes, and have always had a sincere interest in the Conservancy's work, so that opportunity is one I appreciate. Answer #5: I am free to be selective about what activities I want to be associated.
Finally, I am pursuing something I have wanted to do for a while: writing this blog. My interest was stirred over a year ago when Dick Farrell wrote that due to the decline of newspaper readers, social media was becoming an attractive way to acquire and distribute news. The wheels began turning at that time, but I never allowed myself the time to write . . . today I have that time, and I have that outlet to pursue my passion for writing. Answer #5: I have the time and freedom to branch out and pursue my interests.
(I have been asked if I miss coaching . . .the answer is "sometimes," but I have already addressed that topic in a previous blog.)
Put this all together, and here is my answer: Yes, I am loving retirement; as the old saying goes, "It doesn't pay real well, but the benefits are great!" I should add: . . . as long as I have something to go to!
.....
As most know, I have been a fervent supporter of building a new high school in Dover; however, our most recent attempt to persuade our voters to support a bond issue failed. In coaching, one key lesson I have learned is when I lose, I evaluate why, regroup, and move forward. Therefore, I cannot state that I am angry--disappointed, yes, but not really angry. I continue to hold on to a sliver of optimism that our community is not deteriorating to a level we will one day regret, so I refuse to circle the wagons.
As I have been asked many times, what will happen now? Obviously, I do not have an answer, but after having defeated two attempts at renovation and two attempts at building new, the voting members of Dover (the few who actually choose to participate in the voting process) have essentially said, "We don't want to do anything." That answer is clear to me. . . "if it costs money, we ain't doin' it!"
While it is true that a group of "concerned" citizens came forward near the end of this campaign to voice their opposition, I remain unconvinced that they played a significant role in the bond issue's defeat. However, this quasi-organized opposition did surface, so I find it essential to turn the "ball" over to them at this point, but I do so with five pieces of advice:
*Recognize that regardless of whatever option is proposed, a majority vote of our constituents must be won; in short, a logical approach does not always sway enough voters regardless of the argument's validity.
*Thoroughly understand the options available to fund Ohio's schools, whether it be new construction or renovation--understanding the complexities of school financing is not for the casual observer.
*Consider that the current and previous boards of education as well as the administration have been wrestling with this dilemma for many years--please do not make the mistake of thinking that renovation was not thoroughly investigated, given the options available via Ohio's way of financing schools and trying to best utilize available funding.
*Demonstrate the courage to get involved as individuals rather than choosing to hide behind the shield of "Concerned Citizens," a rather cowardly approach considering that public meetings/forums had been ongoing for over three years and not one time did the "concerned citizens" advocate their position . . . tough to step forth when individuals do not attend the meetings and publicly voice their concerns.
*Demonstrate a credibility in leadership; if a campaign to renovate truly is important to this clandestine group and is to be accepted by our taxpayers, then the leaders of the campaign must have openness, credibility, and an understanding to accept public scrutiny and criticism . . . sorry, it goes with the territory.
Having said that, I eagerly await their next step--if their mission means enough, they will proceed!
.....
I like people . . . most of them anyway. As a result, I frequently enjoy conversation about a variety of topics: ones I really know, ones I partially know, and even ones I sometimes have a hard time following. Bottom line is I enjoy talking (surprised?), and I also enjoy listening, although my wife tells me I still have "room to grow" in that area. Well, since I have been retired, the one question I have most frequently been asked is "So, how's retirement?" The truth is I appreciate people taking the time to ask because at this point in my life it is a great conversation starter . . . seems to beat the ol' standby of talking about the weather. Therefore, to set the record straight and as I conclude my first academic year of retirement, here is my reaction to that question (with a bit of lead-in to go with it):
First, I retired not because I really wanted to--the State Teachers' Retirement System basically forced the issue. Due to my having taught thirty-five years in the public schools, if I had worked another year, I would have had to take less money in my yearly pension for the balance of my life--common sense, of course, dictated that was not a wise economic decision. Thus, I submitted my paperwork to the proper officials, "crossed my t's and dotted my i's," and prepared for my next act. Walking away from my students and my peers was not easy, believe me. I had made my living and earned my reputation because of my interplay with those people--it was a rare day when I did not look forward to those interactions. A mutual respect creates a healthy work environment . . . and that is exactly what I had experienced throughout my career. However, I knew because of my antsy personality that simply walking away was not for me. Instead, I had to have something to go to . . .but how to get "there" was the challenge. Thus began the next part of my life.
I had always wanted to teach at the college level; in fact, my Master's Degree had an emphasis on college administration--the intrigue of a college campus was ingrained in me when I was at Kent State University as an undergrad--I loved it. Because of that longtime interest, I set my sights on getting hired at that level; fortunately, for me, Walsh University was impressed with my credentials and hired me as an adjunct English professor for the 2013-2014 academic year, allowing me to teach three introductory writing classes during the fall semester and two during the spring semester (additionally, I have been hired for the 2014-2015 academic year). As of this writing, I am thrilled that I am working there--differences certainly exist, but that sounds like an entry for another day. By getting out of bed every day and heading to classes of students, I am still doing what I truly enjoy. Answer #1: Retirement is allowing me to expand my experiences and enter a somewhat different, yet quite familiar, world.
My life seemingly has revolved around schedules, primarily those controlled by school bells, which, incidentally, I really never want to hear again. By retiring, I allowed myself the opportunity to create a more flexible lifestyle. As a result, I began golfing more, reuniting with high school teammates and other friends on a regular basis and thoroughly enjoying the camaraderie; also, I returned to reading on an everyday basis--when teaching, I found myself constantly reading to merely keep abreast of my classroom obligations. Once retired, I resumed reading whatever I want whenever I want; numerous magazines have always entered our house weekly, so combining those with numerous books has allowed me to be reunited with a lifetime passion. Answer #2: I have found myself enjoying my friends' companionship, and I have rediscovered why reading has always captivated me. I should add that despite my increase in golfing time, my game still struggles . . . hope to get on that this summer!
For many years, I have detailed family and friends' vehicles; therefore, in warmer weather months, I spend considerable time doing just that. Cleaning cars is somewhat of a mindless activity for me yet one I thoroughly enjoy. I put my music on my stereo, letting combinations of all kinds rip through the garage--many times I "put my groove on" and move, particularly when Southside Johnny, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Bob Seger, John Cougar Mellencamp, or Kid Rock are lighting it up. Answer #3: My pride in seeing sharp, shiny vehicles allows me to create just that in an atmosphere I control.
Yet another project has come my way; without divulging details, I was contacted about writing a book reflecting the oral history of an area citizen. Because of my past collaborating with my students in writing a book series focusing on area Vietnam veterans, I was approached about this project. As a result, I am engrossed in this activity and am thoroughly enjoying yet another challenge. Along that same line, I have been proofreading documents for businesses and various individuals, something I do enjoy. Coupled with those interests, I have also been privately tutoring students as they prepare for their ACT English test. Answer #4: New projects are allowing me to use my skills, thus once again giving me goals for which to strive.
Additionally, I have been asked to join the Muskingum Conservancy District Advisory Board; while I am careful not to get too involved in a slew of activities, I grew up in a boating family, enjoying many area lakes, and have always had a sincere interest in the Conservancy's work, so that opportunity is one I appreciate. Answer #5: I am free to be selective about what activities I want to be associated.
Finally, I am pursuing something I have wanted to do for a while: writing this blog. My interest was stirred over a year ago when Dick Farrell wrote that due to the decline of newspaper readers, social media was becoming an attractive way to acquire and distribute news. The wheels began turning at that time, but I never allowed myself the time to write . . . today I have that time, and I have that outlet to pursue my passion for writing. Answer #5: I have the time and freedom to branch out and pursue my interests.
(I have been asked if I miss coaching . . .the answer is "sometimes," but I have already addressed that topic in a previous blog.)
Put this all together, and here is my answer: Yes, I am loving retirement; as the old saying goes, "It doesn't pay real well, but the benefits are great!" I should add: . . . as long as I have something to go to!
.....
As most know, I have been a fervent supporter of building a new high school in Dover; however, our most recent attempt to persuade our voters to support a bond issue failed. In coaching, one key lesson I have learned is when I lose, I evaluate why, regroup, and move forward. Therefore, I cannot state that I am angry--disappointed, yes, but not really angry. I continue to hold on to a sliver of optimism that our community is not deteriorating to a level we will one day regret, so I refuse to circle the wagons.
As I have been asked many times, what will happen now? Obviously, I do not have an answer, but after having defeated two attempts at renovation and two attempts at building new, the voting members of Dover (the few who actually choose to participate in the voting process) have essentially said, "We don't want to do anything." That answer is clear to me. . . "if it costs money, we ain't doin' it!"
While it is true that a group of "concerned" citizens came forward near the end of this campaign to voice their opposition, I remain unconvinced that they played a significant role in the bond issue's defeat. However, this quasi-organized opposition did surface, so I find it essential to turn the "ball" over to them at this point, but I do so with five pieces of advice:
*Recognize that regardless of whatever option is proposed, a majority vote of our constituents must be won; in short, a logical approach does not always sway enough voters regardless of the argument's validity.
*Thoroughly understand the options available to fund Ohio's schools, whether it be new construction or renovation--understanding the complexities of school financing is not for the casual observer.
*Consider that the current and previous boards of education as well as the administration have been wrestling with this dilemma for many years--please do not make the mistake of thinking that renovation was not thoroughly investigated, given the options available via Ohio's way of financing schools and trying to best utilize available funding.
*Demonstrate the courage to get involved as individuals rather than choosing to hide behind the shield of "Concerned Citizens," a rather cowardly approach considering that public meetings/forums had been ongoing for over three years and not one time did the "concerned citizens" advocate their position . . . tough to step forth when individuals do not attend the meetings and publicly voice their concerns.
*Demonstrate a credibility in leadership; if a campaign to renovate truly is important to this clandestine group and is to be accepted by our taxpayers, then the leaders of the campaign must have openness, credibility, and an understanding to accept public scrutiny and criticism . . . sorry, it goes with the territory.
Having said that, I eagerly await their next step--if their mission means enough, they will proceed!
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
"Ah, These Kids These Days . . ."
"When I was a kid, I never would have been able to get away with that!"
"When I was in school, if I got paddled at school, I'd get the same when I got home!"
"When I went to school, we learned important stuff, not the stuff kids learn today!"
"Kids today don't know anything!"
Any of the above sound familiar?
I am running a risk, but as an educator my view of kids today may run contrary to many of my generation or those slightly older than I. My take is quite simple: Kids today are so much smarter than we ever were . . .we don't like to hear that, I know, but I must stress a key point: They are much smarter in different ways, ones that are important to their world, not the world we planted roots. Now, let me add a second part to that statement: Kids today are not overly focused on what "we" think they should be, therefore creating the mentality that kids are not like us . . . and in that I find considerable validity.
Three obvious examples make my first point:
*Penmanship--the teaching of cursive writing is fading. With the exception of our signatures, we seldom cursively write today, so why should we spend time teaching it? It is a dying art.
*Simple Math--who among us does not rely upon calculators and phone apps to do our math for us? I, too, still like to mentally calculate, but I rely upon the calculator to verify my figures. Kids' addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division skills do not carry the importance that they did when we were students. Yes, practical application of those skills (such as understanding how to read a ruler/tape measure) are so crucial in certain lines of work, but times have changed--we rely on technology to do our work for us.
*Map Reading--we rely upon GPS systems, whether they be Garmins or Googles--we hit a button, and, good lord, the GPS even talks to us. What happens if it doesn't work? Of all the time I am on the road, it is a rare occasion when it doesn't; if it does fail, I resort to the old way: I stop at a gas station and ask directions!
My claim is quite obvious: Kids do not need the same intelligence that we did in our era. Simply stated, they are wired differently. However, we love to compare the way we were raised with the way kids are raised today, and we continually conclude that our intelligence supersedes theirs . . . I do not agree. To continue my argument, allow me to focus on the educational system then and now:
*In my day, teachers and students truly were not overly accountable--teachers were not monitored and evaluated dependent upon how their kids did on standardized tests. Yesteryear's teachers did their jobs as they were trained, but they did not have the pressures of meeting state and national standards; likewise, they did not have the added burden of comparisons with neighboring schools or other schools within the state. Schools did their educating and went on their merry way. I look back at my education, and even though I was quite pleased with most of my teachers, I still recall the lackadaisical attitude that was allowed to flourish: a teacher making an assignment and then retreating to the coaches' room to smoke a pipe, the repeated study halls because a teacher did not want to teach that day, the distribution of worksheets and the instructions to complete them . . . I could go on, but my point should be clear: what we remember as being quality education would clearly lead to many of yesteryear's teachers being fired today--again, today teachers' accountability is paramount. If a teacher does not consistently produce, then that teacher had better re-evaluate and double down on teaching strategies because the end could be approaching.
*Does anyone really remember how important the ACT test was when we went to school? My recollection is that I showed up at New Philadelphia High School on a Saturday morning, took a test, went home, ultimately got my scores, and didn't really care too much about how I had scored. Truthfully, I do not recall a teacher even stressing anything about the test; today, the ACT is a major determiner of college acceptance and financial qualifying. Therefore, students take and retake the test with the hope of scoring higher each time. Classes are devoted to assisting those students, tutors are hired to prep kids in weak areas, and teachers study the test so they can assist their students in learning what is on the test. Back in the day, so little attention was devoted to those tests--today's kids and parents expect their kids to score well; when the students fail to do so, it is not unusual for the fingerpointing game to begin: They must not have been taught well. Again, accountability becomes the central issue.
More examples could be made, but I would hope my point has been made: Teachers' accountability is vastly different than it was in my era as a student and as a young teacher.
Another point that must be made involves parenting. Yes, in the day, perhaps our parents were more intimidating and demanding, and I am fairly confident in saying that the onus for learning was on the kid, not the school. Today's world is a bit different simply because today's parents are in many cases extremely vigilant about their kids' education. That has pluses and minuses, but that overseeing does create other issues, most notably kids often relying on their parents stepping to the plate and defending them. One offshoot of that oversight is grade inflation; as stated in my initial blog several weeks ago, students' main objective is to get a good grade. My generation likes to say we "were all about learning." Revealing my weakness, I don't remember that--I just wanted a good grade so my parents would stay off my hind end! I don't think that much has changed from the students' perspectives: "Give me a good grade, so my parents are happy." In truth, I do not remember parents rushing to their kids' defense if a grade was not what they desired; today, that often is the first reaction.
My point is this: Teachers today are under pressure for kids to get "good" grades; as a result, grading scales have been relaxed to ensure that more kids get an "A," (or at least a higher grade) so those students can have a "more positive feeling about themselves," as I have heard many a parent express. I will say this: More kids are getting higher grades than they deserve . . . changing times. As stated, pluses and minuses are part of that, but my experience tells me that parents are much more protective of their kids in today's world. If the kids are getting the grades the parents desire, then all is well with the world. Grade inflation? I guarantee that most parents will say it might happen,"but it hasn't happened with my child." OK, as we like to say today, whatever. We often wonder why children are defensive about so many issues they confront; perhaps it has something to do with the way we are raising them. Let me make this point: One reason the ACT has such added importance is because the same (or similar) test is being taken by all--yes, I understand that test anxiety, time limitations, and so on do play roles. As a result of the test's commonality, though, scores can be legitimately compared, much more convincingly than a student's GPA, which varies from school to school and can be unfairly influenced by lax grading scales. In many cases, a kid's ACT score may be a better indicator of the student's skills than his or her GPA. My point: Perhaps we place way too much emphasis on grades than we do actual learning.
Another observation I have made is that somewhere, somehow, sometime, we became convinced that we were stellar, high-achieving, dedicated students during our time. My response is quite simple: How did that happen? If I recall correctly, many of my peers and I did not "set the world on fire" when it came to academic excellence--solid students, yes, but certainly not the highest of achievers. Dedicated? Soul-search for a moment--were you really? I know the boy writing this wasn't. Just as our memory often clouds our past athletic glory, we sometimes misrepresent our own academic strengths. Translated, many of us, including me, were not the students then that we might want to remember ourselves as being.
Now, in regard to my second point: Kids are not overly focused on what we think they should be. I expect kids to be avid readers and skilled writers--most are not. I expect kids to be more productive than just sitting and playing video games--most are not. I expect kids to take their headsets off and verbally communicate--many do not. I expect kids to dress properly and treat others respectfully--many do not. I expect kids to have a strong work ethic--few do. So, let's agree that back in the day our parents might have stepped in and made kids be more compatible with the parents' expectations. Today we are much more lenient with kids because we allow them to "be themselves." Our parents in the day could have cared less about that: for the most part, they wanted us to be like them, so they sometimes demanded, smacked, paddled us into submission. Today, parents' control is a bit more limited; translated, many kids get away with a whole bunch more disrespect than "we" would have ever tolerated . . . but please look at our society. Isn't that simply the way it has evolved? Society has forced us to adapt with it whether we want to or not! An additional point: Review my points in this paragraph--each of the aforementioned is related to how these kids are raised. Pointing our fingers at the schools for not developing the mindset we desire is a cop-out--schools re-enforce, but the character issues are all on the home environment.
As I pull all this together, here is my perspective:
*Kids know so much more than "we" did;
*"We" like to hang on to the idea that "we" were raised better; instead, I think "we" were raised differently, in a society that was less protective, less promiscuous, and less tolerant;
*"We" might not have been quite as academically dedicated in high school as "we" might like to think!
*"We" oftentimes judge kids unfairly, but oftentimes it is quite deserved;
*"We" frequently hang on to our convictions because "we" fear what is becoming of this world!
Borrowing a songline from Bye, Bye, Birdie, "What's the matter with these kids these days?" the kids are different in certain ways, but the real point is it's a different world!
I would hope this posting will generate considerable feedback--I look forward to hearing your reactions!
"When I was in school, if I got paddled at school, I'd get the same when I got home!"
"When I went to school, we learned important stuff, not the stuff kids learn today!"
"Kids today don't know anything!"
Any of the above sound familiar?
I am running a risk, but as an educator my view of kids today may run contrary to many of my generation or those slightly older than I. My take is quite simple: Kids today are so much smarter than we ever were . . .we don't like to hear that, I know, but I must stress a key point: They are much smarter in different ways, ones that are important to their world, not the world we planted roots. Now, let me add a second part to that statement: Kids today are not overly focused on what "we" think they should be, therefore creating the mentality that kids are not like us . . . and in that I find considerable validity.
Three obvious examples make my first point:
*Penmanship--the teaching of cursive writing is fading. With the exception of our signatures, we seldom cursively write today, so why should we spend time teaching it? It is a dying art.
*Simple Math--who among us does not rely upon calculators and phone apps to do our math for us? I, too, still like to mentally calculate, but I rely upon the calculator to verify my figures. Kids' addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division skills do not carry the importance that they did when we were students. Yes, practical application of those skills (such as understanding how to read a ruler/tape measure) are so crucial in certain lines of work, but times have changed--we rely on technology to do our work for us.
*Map Reading--we rely upon GPS systems, whether they be Garmins or Googles--we hit a button, and, good lord, the GPS even talks to us. What happens if it doesn't work? Of all the time I am on the road, it is a rare occasion when it doesn't; if it does fail, I resort to the old way: I stop at a gas station and ask directions!
My claim is quite obvious: Kids do not need the same intelligence that we did in our era. Simply stated, they are wired differently. However, we love to compare the way we were raised with the way kids are raised today, and we continually conclude that our intelligence supersedes theirs . . . I do not agree. To continue my argument, allow me to focus on the educational system then and now:
*In my day, teachers and students truly were not overly accountable--teachers were not monitored and evaluated dependent upon how their kids did on standardized tests. Yesteryear's teachers did their jobs as they were trained, but they did not have the pressures of meeting state and national standards; likewise, they did not have the added burden of comparisons with neighboring schools or other schools within the state. Schools did their educating and went on their merry way. I look back at my education, and even though I was quite pleased with most of my teachers, I still recall the lackadaisical attitude that was allowed to flourish: a teacher making an assignment and then retreating to the coaches' room to smoke a pipe, the repeated study halls because a teacher did not want to teach that day, the distribution of worksheets and the instructions to complete them . . . I could go on, but my point should be clear: what we remember as being quality education would clearly lead to many of yesteryear's teachers being fired today--again, today teachers' accountability is paramount. If a teacher does not consistently produce, then that teacher had better re-evaluate and double down on teaching strategies because the end could be approaching.
*Does anyone really remember how important the ACT test was when we went to school? My recollection is that I showed up at New Philadelphia High School on a Saturday morning, took a test, went home, ultimately got my scores, and didn't really care too much about how I had scored. Truthfully, I do not recall a teacher even stressing anything about the test; today, the ACT is a major determiner of college acceptance and financial qualifying. Therefore, students take and retake the test with the hope of scoring higher each time. Classes are devoted to assisting those students, tutors are hired to prep kids in weak areas, and teachers study the test so they can assist their students in learning what is on the test. Back in the day, so little attention was devoted to those tests--today's kids and parents expect their kids to score well; when the students fail to do so, it is not unusual for the fingerpointing game to begin: They must not have been taught well. Again, accountability becomes the central issue.
More examples could be made, but I would hope my point has been made: Teachers' accountability is vastly different than it was in my era as a student and as a young teacher.
Another point that must be made involves parenting. Yes, in the day, perhaps our parents were more intimidating and demanding, and I am fairly confident in saying that the onus for learning was on the kid, not the school. Today's world is a bit different simply because today's parents are in many cases extremely vigilant about their kids' education. That has pluses and minuses, but that overseeing does create other issues, most notably kids often relying on their parents stepping to the plate and defending them. One offshoot of that oversight is grade inflation; as stated in my initial blog several weeks ago, students' main objective is to get a good grade. My generation likes to say we "were all about learning." Revealing my weakness, I don't remember that--I just wanted a good grade so my parents would stay off my hind end! I don't think that much has changed from the students' perspectives: "Give me a good grade, so my parents are happy." In truth, I do not remember parents rushing to their kids' defense if a grade was not what they desired; today, that often is the first reaction.
My point is this: Teachers today are under pressure for kids to get "good" grades; as a result, grading scales have been relaxed to ensure that more kids get an "A," (or at least a higher grade) so those students can have a "more positive feeling about themselves," as I have heard many a parent express. I will say this: More kids are getting higher grades than they deserve . . . changing times. As stated, pluses and minuses are part of that, but my experience tells me that parents are much more protective of their kids in today's world. If the kids are getting the grades the parents desire, then all is well with the world. Grade inflation? I guarantee that most parents will say it might happen,"but it hasn't happened with my child." OK, as we like to say today, whatever. We often wonder why children are defensive about so many issues they confront; perhaps it has something to do with the way we are raising them. Let me make this point: One reason the ACT has such added importance is because the same (or similar) test is being taken by all--yes, I understand that test anxiety, time limitations, and so on do play roles. As a result of the test's commonality, though, scores can be legitimately compared, much more convincingly than a student's GPA, which varies from school to school and can be unfairly influenced by lax grading scales. In many cases, a kid's ACT score may be a better indicator of the student's skills than his or her GPA. My point: Perhaps we place way too much emphasis on grades than we do actual learning.
Another observation I have made is that somewhere, somehow, sometime, we became convinced that we were stellar, high-achieving, dedicated students during our time. My response is quite simple: How did that happen? If I recall correctly, many of my peers and I did not "set the world on fire" when it came to academic excellence--solid students, yes, but certainly not the highest of achievers. Dedicated? Soul-search for a moment--were you really? I know the boy writing this wasn't. Just as our memory often clouds our past athletic glory, we sometimes misrepresent our own academic strengths. Translated, many of us, including me, were not the students then that we might want to remember ourselves as being.
Now, in regard to my second point: Kids are not overly focused on what we think they should be. I expect kids to be avid readers and skilled writers--most are not. I expect kids to be more productive than just sitting and playing video games--most are not. I expect kids to take their headsets off and verbally communicate--many do not. I expect kids to dress properly and treat others respectfully--many do not. I expect kids to have a strong work ethic--few do. So, let's agree that back in the day our parents might have stepped in and made kids be more compatible with the parents' expectations. Today we are much more lenient with kids because we allow them to "be themselves." Our parents in the day could have cared less about that: for the most part, they wanted us to be like them, so they sometimes demanded, smacked, paddled us into submission. Today, parents' control is a bit more limited; translated, many kids get away with a whole bunch more disrespect than "we" would have ever tolerated . . . but please look at our society. Isn't that simply the way it has evolved? Society has forced us to adapt with it whether we want to or not! An additional point: Review my points in this paragraph--each of the aforementioned is related to how these kids are raised. Pointing our fingers at the schools for not developing the mindset we desire is a cop-out--schools re-enforce, but the character issues are all on the home environment.
As I pull all this together, here is my perspective:
*Kids know so much more than "we" did;
*"We" like to hang on to the idea that "we" were raised better; instead, I think "we" were raised differently, in a society that was less protective, less promiscuous, and less tolerant;
*"We" might not have been quite as academically dedicated in high school as "we" might like to think!
*"We" oftentimes judge kids unfairly, but oftentimes it is quite deserved;
*"We" frequently hang on to our convictions because "we" fear what is becoming of this world!
Borrowing a songline from Bye, Bye, Birdie, "What's the matter with these kids these days?" the kids are different in certain ways, but the real point is it's a different world!
I would hope this posting will generate considerable feedback--I look forward to hearing your reactions!
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Perception Is Reality . . . Isn't It?
This entry could possibly invoke numerous reactions . . . I look forward to hearing them!
Are educators perceived as professionals?
I would think if any teacher/administrator were asked that question, the response would be an overwhelming "YES!" I would expect nothing to the contrary. However, if the taxpaying public were asked that same question, I suspect the majority would disagree for a variety of reasons . . . and that is where the disconnect occurs.
To begin this discussion, I must first explain a few key points:
*As my readers know, I am a retired public school teacher; as a result, my occasional bias toward the profession is genuine;
*Many of my friends and acquaintances outside the school building are not educators; thus, their views often conflict with mine.
*As a result of my interactions with both educators and non-educators, I can clearly see that how we (as educators) often view ourselves is not how everyone does . . . and that is why I am exploring this topic.
Writing on this sensitive matter is akin to walking through a field of landmines . . . moving gently forward but knowing possible danger lies ahead. Let me explore a few timeworn comments I have heard from others:
*You (educators) get three months off in the summer;
*You get holiday vacations;
*You get snow days;
*You get . . . fill in the blank.
I find myself cringing as I write those words, but these are the standard criticisms leveled toward teachers. While I find myself shaking my head at the aforementioned remarks, I do understand them because the majority of our working world do not always share those work perks . . . they get perks (time and a half, double time, . . .), but certainly not the same ones as educators. I get that, but, obviously, more details remain to be explored. While many may attack the so-called easy life that teachers are perceived as living, that has little to do with my focus in this writing. I am not saying teachers are this and teachers are that and we should show more appreciation toward them; instead, I want to head in a slightly different direction.
The word professional has strong implications; doctors, nurses, and lawyers come to mind when I categorize how most people view professionals because their career choices require exit exams, ongoing education, personal interaction with the public, and, most frequently, confidentiality. Teachers--like doctors, nurses, and lawyers--must meet the same qualifications listed above. At one time long ago, teachers were highly regarded as professionals . . . but did something happen to alter that? I contend that--in the public's eyes--the answer is yes; in many ways, we as educators have contributed to our own perception. Being so bold to say that, I must explain my logic:
*Personal Appearance--I admit to being old school with various quirks as a result, but I am a firm believer in the adage of dressing for success. As a young teacher at Strasburg High School many years ago, I clearly remember my superintendent, Al Osler, gently reminding me that if I wanted to be treated as a professional then I had better dress as one. Watching my administrators wear suits/sport coats and ties every day was impressive; likewise, watching my male peers wear shirts and ties made an impact. I am not so naïve, however, as to think that just because a man wears a tie that he is automatically a quality teacher--I get that, and I also do not mean to imply that certain jobs within a school should require a tie (physical education, art, and industrial technology come to mind). What I am saying is that when we do not dress professionally, it merely provides the public with more ammunition to say we aren't professional because we look just like anyone else. I must stress that public schools rely on the support of communities, and those taxpayers are frequently quick to judge us in a negative light, deserved or not. When I wear a golf shirt to school, I am not so sure that I am sending the signal that I am a professional educator. (Many schools have "dress down days" where employees pay a fee toward a specific charity--I am not talking about those occasional times.) My financial advisors--bankers and investors--wear suits every time I meet with them; my doctor wears a shirt and tie under his lab coat; when I have consulted with an attorney, he is wearing a suit. My point should be obvious: If I want to be perceived as a professional, like the aforementioned, I need to at least look the role. My hunch--with no true facts to support it--is that if the perception is genuine, it will go a long way in influencing my standing within the community as well as with my students. One other point before I move on: Female educators who dress sharply ooze with professionalism; knowing that they take considerable pride in how they are perceived--just as with males--plays such an important role in how others view them.
*Public Comments--Human nature seems to indicate that we like to talk; I could probably go out on the proverbial limb and say we like to be heard. How often have we been in a conversation when the other person is already talking before we are done making our point? (Score that as one of my major weaknesses, as my wife tells me repeatedly to shut up and let her finish talking!) As educators, we frequently overstep our boundaries by making public comments that expose us to criticism (been there done that, by the way). Our often openly-stated wishes for snow days, for example, immediately send a negative signal to non-educators because they don't live in the same little world we do. Snow days in their work world are practically nonexistent and require them to find babysitters, to alter their everyday lives . . . ; to teachers, it mostly means a day off (even though we may be grading or preparing how to consolidate our lessons into fewer days) . . . non-teachers don't want to hear about our wishes. Additionally, we are occasionally guilty of sharing a bit too much information; while I attest that this is not peculiar to just the teaching profession, we certainly learn that parents do not want their kids' issues being discussed too openly. With the responsibility of teaching comes the responsibility of oftentimes keeping our personal observations, thoughts, and wishes to ourselves--when we step outside those boundaries, we are risking unnecessary criticism, particularly when we bring it on ourselves.
*Writing Skills--As an English teacher, I am heavily biased about this point. Simply stated, if we are professionals, we are expected to clearly understand how the English language works and to produce clear manuscripts that are distributed to our students via handouts, to scholarship committee members via recommendation letters, to our students' parents via written communication, and to our administrators and peers via occasional professional correspondence. It boils down to this: Can we write well? Allow me to answer my own question: Not always. I say that not as a criticism simply because all of us are wired differently--stereotypically, math teachers, for example, are not strong writers. Their minds are not "word-oriented"; rather, their minds are "number-oriented," thus making them experts in their field. (Conversely, most English teachers are weak in math!) We all know that humans have their niches; it is a rare occasion when someone has the whole package. However, when the public reads a teacher's correspondence that is poorly written, an immediate negative reaction is triggered. From my seat, it all comes down to knowing our strengths and weaknesses; when I need help with my taxes, I go to a tax preparer just as when I have a household plumbing problem, I call a plumber. As a teacher, if I know I am not a good writer, then I need to be sure to have a strong editor who can correct and improve my writing before it meets the public. When manuscripts are presented, they have to be reflective of competent writers whether we have edited the documents ourselves or whether we have had editorial help. With grammar mistakes, misspelled words, and confusing points present, the reading public is quick to pounce.
I suppose one could read this blog today and be quick to judge me as putting myself on a pedestal . . . that person would be wrong but not too far off. Maintaining the professionalism of educators is an important priority in my life--I don't want others criticizing us when we have control over certain elements. Facing the facts, I know that various situations arise where we are going to get criticized or perceived unfairly, warranted or not; however, presenting a positive, professional image is under our control, and I contend--paraphrasing my previously-mentioned mentor--if we want to be perceived as pros, then we had better hold up our end of the bargain!
Your thoughts?
Are educators perceived as professionals?
I would think if any teacher/administrator were asked that question, the response would be an overwhelming "YES!" I would expect nothing to the contrary. However, if the taxpaying public were asked that same question, I suspect the majority would disagree for a variety of reasons . . . and that is where the disconnect occurs.
To begin this discussion, I must first explain a few key points:
*As my readers know, I am a retired public school teacher; as a result, my occasional bias toward the profession is genuine;
*Many of my friends and acquaintances outside the school building are not educators; thus, their views often conflict with mine.
*As a result of my interactions with both educators and non-educators, I can clearly see that how we (as educators) often view ourselves is not how everyone does . . . and that is why I am exploring this topic.
Writing on this sensitive matter is akin to walking through a field of landmines . . . moving gently forward but knowing possible danger lies ahead. Let me explore a few timeworn comments I have heard from others:
*You (educators) get three months off in the summer;
*You get holiday vacations;
*You get snow days;
*You get . . . fill in the blank.
I find myself cringing as I write those words, but these are the standard criticisms leveled toward teachers. While I find myself shaking my head at the aforementioned remarks, I do understand them because the majority of our working world do not always share those work perks . . . they get perks (time and a half, double time, . . .), but certainly not the same ones as educators. I get that, but, obviously, more details remain to be explored. While many may attack the so-called easy life that teachers are perceived as living, that has little to do with my focus in this writing. I am not saying teachers are this and teachers are that and we should show more appreciation toward them; instead, I want to head in a slightly different direction.
The word professional has strong implications; doctors, nurses, and lawyers come to mind when I categorize how most people view professionals because their career choices require exit exams, ongoing education, personal interaction with the public, and, most frequently, confidentiality. Teachers--like doctors, nurses, and lawyers--must meet the same qualifications listed above. At one time long ago, teachers were highly regarded as professionals . . . but did something happen to alter that? I contend that--in the public's eyes--the answer is yes; in many ways, we as educators have contributed to our own perception. Being so bold to say that, I must explain my logic:
*Personal Appearance--I admit to being old school with various quirks as a result, but I am a firm believer in the adage of dressing for success. As a young teacher at Strasburg High School many years ago, I clearly remember my superintendent, Al Osler, gently reminding me that if I wanted to be treated as a professional then I had better dress as one. Watching my administrators wear suits/sport coats and ties every day was impressive; likewise, watching my male peers wear shirts and ties made an impact. I am not so naïve, however, as to think that just because a man wears a tie that he is automatically a quality teacher--I get that, and I also do not mean to imply that certain jobs within a school should require a tie (physical education, art, and industrial technology come to mind). What I am saying is that when we do not dress professionally, it merely provides the public with more ammunition to say we aren't professional because we look just like anyone else. I must stress that public schools rely on the support of communities, and those taxpayers are frequently quick to judge us in a negative light, deserved or not. When I wear a golf shirt to school, I am not so sure that I am sending the signal that I am a professional educator. (Many schools have "dress down days" where employees pay a fee toward a specific charity--I am not talking about those occasional times.) My financial advisors--bankers and investors--wear suits every time I meet with them; my doctor wears a shirt and tie under his lab coat; when I have consulted with an attorney, he is wearing a suit. My point should be obvious: If I want to be perceived as a professional, like the aforementioned, I need to at least look the role. My hunch--with no true facts to support it--is that if the perception is genuine, it will go a long way in influencing my standing within the community as well as with my students. One other point before I move on: Female educators who dress sharply ooze with professionalism; knowing that they take considerable pride in how they are perceived--just as with males--plays such an important role in how others view them.
*Public Comments--Human nature seems to indicate that we like to talk; I could probably go out on the proverbial limb and say we like to be heard. How often have we been in a conversation when the other person is already talking before we are done making our point? (Score that as one of my major weaknesses, as my wife tells me repeatedly to shut up and let her finish talking!) As educators, we frequently overstep our boundaries by making public comments that expose us to criticism (been there done that, by the way). Our often openly-stated wishes for snow days, for example, immediately send a negative signal to non-educators because they don't live in the same little world we do. Snow days in their work world are practically nonexistent and require them to find babysitters, to alter their everyday lives . . . ; to teachers, it mostly means a day off (even though we may be grading or preparing how to consolidate our lessons into fewer days) . . . non-teachers don't want to hear about our wishes. Additionally, we are occasionally guilty of sharing a bit too much information; while I attest that this is not peculiar to just the teaching profession, we certainly learn that parents do not want their kids' issues being discussed too openly. With the responsibility of teaching comes the responsibility of oftentimes keeping our personal observations, thoughts, and wishes to ourselves--when we step outside those boundaries, we are risking unnecessary criticism, particularly when we bring it on ourselves.
*Writing Skills--As an English teacher, I am heavily biased about this point. Simply stated, if we are professionals, we are expected to clearly understand how the English language works and to produce clear manuscripts that are distributed to our students via handouts, to scholarship committee members via recommendation letters, to our students' parents via written communication, and to our administrators and peers via occasional professional correspondence. It boils down to this: Can we write well? Allow me to answer my own question: Not always. I say that not as a criticism simply because all of us are wired differently--stereotypically, math teachers, for example, are not strong writers. Their minds are not "word-oriented"; rather, their minds are "number-oriented," thus making them experts in their field. (Conversely, most English teachers are weak in math!) We all know that humans have their niches; it is a rare occasion when someone has the whole package. However, when the public reads a teacher's correspondence that is poorly written, an immediate negative reaction is triggered. From my seat, it all comes down to knowing our strengths and weaknesses; when I need help with my taxes, I go to a tax preparer just as when I have a household plumbing problem, I call a plumber. As a teacher, if I know I am not a good writer, then I need to be sure to have a strong editor who can correct and improve my writing before it meets the public. When manuscripts are presented, they have to be reflective of competent writers whether we have edited the documents ourselves or whether we have had editorial help. With grammar mistakes, misspelled words, and confusing points present, the reading public is quick to pounce.
I suppose one could read this blog today and be quick to judge me as putting myself on a pedestal . . . that person would be wrong but not too far off. Maintaining the professionalism of educators is an important priority in my life--I don't want others criticizing us when we have control over certain elements. Facing the facts, I know that various situations arise where we are going to get criticized or perceived unfairly, warranted or not; however, presenting a positive, professional image is under our control, and I contend--paraphrasing my previously-mentioned mentor--if we want to be perceived as pros, then we had better hold up our end of the bargain!
Your thoughts?
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Coaching: Thoughts and Ramblings
Parents are subjective; coaches are objective . . . therein lies the major dilemma that has confronted athletes, parents, relatives, and friends of the aforementioned for as long as anyone wishes to consider.
Commonly these days, I am asked if I miss coaching. My response is mixed: "Sometimes, yea; sometimes, nah." To establish a sense of credibility, I coached athletics for thirty-five years including freshman, junior varsity, and varsity basketball; middle school track; and junior high and varsity assistant football. In addition, I observed our two daughters participate in various sports throughout their lives. Having mentioned those points, I have experienced many situations that have allowed me to feel somewhat credible in making my observations. With that said, here we go:
*Please refer to the first sentence, first paragraph: Coaches and parents are seldom going to be on the same page. Parents have watched their kids' involvement in organized sports, perhaps before the kids even began attending school. From those experiences, those same parents oftentimes have developed a strong belief that their kids are (A) really good; (B) not being treated fairly by their coaches; or (C) average athletes. I suppose a (D), (E), or (F) could be added, but I will go with my three. Many parents are former athletes, thus inspiring their kids to emulate them if at all possible; others have never played much organized sports, yet their expertise is still sometimes shared. Somewhere in the equation, we establish that our kids' performances may have a direct connection to us--if our kids are lazy, then everyone will think we as parents are, too; likewise, if kids perform consistently well, then as parents, we will be viewed in the same positive light.
As those same kids develop, however, a whole bunch of different scenarios arise--kids center their lives around sports and make their whole identity as athletes, kids continue involvement because they realize sports can be a social magnet helping bring popularity, or kids sometimes continue simply because they love the sports they play; on the other hand, kids run from sports because they tire of the pressure exerted by parents and coaches, kids simply tire of the time commitments, or, most frequently, kids cannot accept their roles on a team. My point is as the kids grow and mature into high school athletes, so many changes can occur . . . and so often parents refuse to accept what those changes are. As a high school coach, I have had many, many confrontations with parents who have been determined to convince me that I am the reason their children have not been able to achieve the athletic success they envision. The common refrain, of course, has almost always been that "you never give him a chance." I have always tried to rationalize that statement, but, unfortunately, I have never been able to do so: I watch practice every day, I watch the kids compete against each other in drills and live competition, I watch video tape, and I observe nonverbal practice behavior on a daily basis . . . none of which the parents have been able to do. In short, my job as a coach is to remain as objective as I possibly can--I cannot be influenced if a certain kid's parents are my friends or a certain kid has a particular name. I have to be objective . . .I still recall a parent calling me on the phone accusing me of playing a certain kid--not his--because the other kid's parents were friends of mine; little did that dad realize that just a week earlier I had heard the same comment from the other kid's parent about my not playing his kid for the same reason! My question: Why would a coach deliberately sabotage a kid? Fortunately, that is not how it works. A coach's job involves many aspects, but one of them is certainly not how can I screw this kid over. I suppose I could repeat that numerous times and many will still not believe me, but my truth, again, is that a coach has many responsibilities . . . but a key one is determining who is going to provide the team the best chance to perform well . . . objectively, not subjectively.
*Coaching provides a tremendous connection with kids. Looking back, I can easily say that my greatest satisfaction in coaching has been the relationships that I have created. Kids can sometimes be frustrating, but, most frequently, they put a smile on my face. When a team is together as much as a high school sport demands, it is inevitable that a mutual respect will probably emerge--I didn't say that the relationship will always be happy, but the chances of the relationship being enduring are quite strong. Interacting with kids in ways that a typical classroom environment cannot provide allows coaches to see kids in a world unknown to most teachers . . . and from that both players and coaches know each other much more in-depth. I would not trade those relationships for anything--winning provides a wonderful feeling, and oftentimes an overripe ego, but the rapport with and memories of those kids mean far more.
*One of the hardest parts of coaching is the disciplining that often must be done. Like parents who must keep their children in line, so do coaches. While in-home discipline can often be kept within the family, coaching discipline is often played out in public and frequently discussed among the locals. Every coach has to draw a proverbial line in the sand, but that same coach realizes that each kid is different; I am convinced that many observers believe that all rules must be enforced exactly as they are written, to the letter . . . sounds good, but good luck with that. Each kid is wired differently--one may be high strung, one may be able to accept criticism, one may be threatened by any criticism, one may need an arm around his shoulder, one may need explanation away from his teammates . . . the list goes on, but my point should be clear. It is easy from a distance to say this or that should have been done, but understanding each situation and reacting accordingly is the key. Coaching is teaching, in the event that is forgotten. When we teach, we must accept that kids are not all the same, and neither are they in coaching. However, sometimes discipline must be enforced, and when that happens, most frequently the reaction will be split: some will say it was fair, some will say the kid is being picked on, and some will say that the punishment should have been more severe. Bottom line is that the coach has to make a decision, accepting that his choice is going to be met with polarized responses.
*To be a coach, one prerequisite is to have thick skin, realizing that being criticized is part of the game--deserved or not. Our society takes sports quite seriously, and, as a result, we coaches must accept that others are going to frequently have different views than we do. Over the years, I have learned to keep my thoughts guarded, to do my job the way I feel it should be done, to "keep my friends close and my enemies even closer." Coaching has cost me friendships--while it is not an everyday occurrence, I certainly have encountered people who will turn their backs to me when they see me, who will refuse to respond when I say hello, and who will simply refuse to even look at me. While today I laugh at the pettiness of those reactions, I realize that most of the time those individuals have targeted me as the cause of their kids' lack of success or their kids' lack of talent. In short, they have someone to blame; if that person happens to be me, so be it.
*The responsibility of being a coach is immense--coaches frequently become a "face" in a community, good or bad. Recognizing and accepting this is important because we become visible to a whole bunch of people, whether we realize it or not. Establishing a reputation is part of the spinoff from coaching--people notice us, providing yet another opportunity for opinions to be made. It is easy to describe coaches as arrogant, and many of us are, but the truth is that most coaches are guarded, as described previously. I have always prided myself on staying away from parents, for example, because I realize that at some point I am going to make them mad. Thus, when I walk into Buehler's or WalMart, I try my best to get what I need and get out of there--getting cornered to discuss why a kid is not playing in a basketball game is not what I envision when I enter a grocery store, but I know that it might happen. In addition, many times people just want to get to know us--they see us coaching but do not know us beyond that arena. Those conversations are quite welcomed--I have learned that coaches must appreciate their elevated roles within a school.
*A beauty of coaching is "connecting the dots"; just like someone putting together a puzzle, coaches welcome the challenge of matching their players' strengths and weaknesses, combining them into a finished product. When the pieces fit, the picture often is what we would describe as "beautiful"--we cut, paste, and refine the parts until we get the product we desire--I do really miss that, I must confess.
*Time to bring all these ramblings together: Coaching is an extremely rewarding profession that dominates a person's life. The emotional ups and downs that accompany it provide a stress that can easily age someone before his or her time; the rewards of winning and building relationships are immeasurable; the gut-wrenching stab of losing can lower one's self-esteem, make the coach question his or her priorities, and often lead to physical health issues. So, in answer to the question of "Do I miss coaching?" my response is actually quite simple: My life is much more peaceful these days because I am no longer on the emotional roller coaster of coaching; I miss the camaraderie with fellow coaches/players and the competition, but I am sleeping full nights without much interruption. When I see former players, I am greeted by handshakes and hugs . . . what those kids don't really appreciate just yet is that those gestures have made it all worthwhile . . . that was the true beauty of coaching for me.
*******
In response to inquiries, if any reader has missed my postings, the collection may be found at the following: michaelagunther.blogspot.com
Commonly these days, I am asked if I miss coaching. My response is mixed: "Sometimes, yea; sometimes, nah." To establish a sense of credibility, I coached athletics for thirty-five years including freshman, junior varsity, and varsity basketball; middle school track; and junior high and varsity assistant football. In addition, I observed our two daughters participate in various sports throughout their lives. Having mentioned those points, I have experienced many situations that have allowed me to feel somewhat credible in making my observations. With that said, here we go:
*Please refer to the first sentence, first paragraph: Coaches and parents are seldom going to be on the same page. Parents have watched their kids' involvement in organized sports, perhaps before the kids even began attending school. From those experiences, those same parents oftentimes have developed a strong belief that their kids are (A) really good; (B) not being treated fairly by their coaches; or (C) average athletes. I suppose a (D), (E), or (F) could be added, but I will go with my three. Many parents are former athletes, thus inspiring their kids to emulate them if at all possible; others have never played much organized sports, yet their expertise is still sometimes shared. Somewhere in the equation, we establish that our kids' performances may have a direct connection to us--if our kids are lazy, then everyone will think we as parents are, too; likewise, if kids perform consistently well, then as parents, we will be viewed in the same positive light.
As those same kids develop, however, a whole bunch of different scenarios arise--kids center their lives around sports and make their whole identity as athletes, kids continue involvement because they realize sports can be a social magnet helping bring popularity, or kids sometimes continue simply because they love the sports they play; on the other hand, kids run from sports because they tire of the pressure exerted by parents and coaches, kids simply tire of the time commitments, or, most frequently, kids cannot accept their roles on a team. My point is as the kids grow and mature into high school athletes, so many changes can occur . . . and so often parents refuse to accept what those changes are. As a high school coach, I have had many, many confrontations with parents who have been determined to convince me that I am the reason their children have not been able to achieve the athletic success they envision. The common refrain, of course, has almost always been that "you never give him a chance." I have always tried to rationalize that statement, but, unfortunately, I have never been able to do so: I watch practice every day, I watch the kids compete against each other in drills and live competition, I watch video tape, and I observe nonverbal practice behavior on a daily basis . . . none of which the parents have been able to do. In short, my job as a coach is to remain as objective as I possibly can--I cannot be influenced if a certain kid's parents are my friends or a certain kid has a particular name. I have to be objective . . .I still recall a parent calling me on the phone accusing me of playing a certain kid--not his--because the other kid's parents were friends of mine; little did that dad realize that just a week earlier I had heard the same comment from the other kid's parent about my not playing his kid for the same reason! My question: Why would a coach deliberately sabotage a kid? Fortunately, that is not how it works. A coach's job involves many aspects, but one of them is certainly not how can I screw this kid over. I suppose I could repeat that numerous times and many will still not believe me, but my truth, again, is that a coach has many responsibilities . . . but a key one is determining who is going to provide the team the best chance to perform well . . . objectively, not subjectively.
*Coaching provides a tremendous connection with kids. Looking back, I can easily say that my greatest satisfaction in coaching has been the relationships that I have created. Kids can sometimes be frustrating, but, most frequently, they put a smile on my face. When a team is together as much as a high school sport demands, it is inevitable that a mutual respect will probably emerge--I didn't say that the relationship will always be happy, but the chances of the relationship being enduring are quite strong. Interacting with kids in ways that a typical classroom environment cannot provide allows coaches to see kids in a world unknown to most teachers . . . and from that both players and coaches know each other much more in-depth. I would not trade those relationships for anything--winning provides a wonderful feeling, and oftentimes an overripe ego, but the rapport with and memories of those kids mean far more.
*One of the hardest parts of coaching is the disciplining that often must be done. Like parents who must keep their children in line, so do coaches. While in-home discipline can often be kept within the family, coaching discipline is often played out in public and frequently discussed among the locals. Every coach has to draw a proverbial line in the sand, but that same coach realizes that each kid is different; I am convinced that many observers believe that all rules must be enforced exactly as they are written, to the letter . . . sounds good, but good luck with that. Each kid is wired differently--one may be high strung, one may be able to accept criticism, one may be threatened by any criticism, one may need an arm around his shoulder, one may need explanation away from his teammates . . . the list goes on, but my point should be clear. It is easy from a distance to say this or that should have been done, but understanding each situation and reacting accordingly is the key. Coaching is teaching, in the event that is forgotten. When we teach, we must accept that kids are not all the same, and neither are they in coaching. However, sometimes discipline must be enforced, and when that happens, most frequently the reaction will be split: some will say it was fair, some will say the kid is being picked on, and some will say that the punishment should have been more severe. Bottom line is that the coach has to make a decision, accepting that his choice is going to be met with polarized responses.
*To be a coach, one prerequisite is to have thick skin, realizing that being criticized is part of the game--deserved or not. Our society takes sports quite seriously, and, as a result, we coaches must accept that others are going to frequently have different views than we do. Over the years, I have learned to keep my thoughts guarded, to do my job the way I feel it should be done, to "keep my friends close and my enemies even closer." Coaching has cost me friendships--while it is not an everyday occurrence, I certainly have encountered people who will turn their backs to me when they see me, who will refuse to respond when I say hello, and who will simply refuse to even look at me. While today I laugh at the pettiness of those reactions, I realize that most of the time those individuals have targeted me as the cause of their kids' lack of success or their kids' lack of talent. In short, they have someone to blame; if that person happens to be me, so be it.
*The responsibility of being a coach is immense--coaches frequently become a "face" in a community, good or bad. Recognizing and accepting this is important because we become visible to a whole bunch of people, whether we realize it or not. Establishing a reputation is part of the spinoff from coaching--people notice us, providing yet another opportunity for opinions to be made. It is easy to describe coaches as arrogant, and many of us are, but the truth is that most coaches are guarded, as described previously. I have always prided myself on staying away from parents, for example, because I realize that at some point I am going to make them mad. Thus, when I walk into Buehler's or WalMart, I try my best to get what I need and get out of there--getting cornered to discuss why a kid is not playing in a basketball game is not what I envision when I enter a grocery store, but I know that it might happen. In addition, many times people just want to get to know us--they see us coaching but do not know us beyond that arena. Those conversations are quite welcomed--I have learned that coaches must appreciate their elevated roles within a school.
*A beauty of coaching is "connecting the dots"; just like someone putting together a puzzle, coaches welcome the challenge of matching their players' strengths and weaknesses, combining them into a finished product. When the pieces fit, the picture often is what we would describe as "beautiful"--we cut, paste, and refine the parts until we get the product we desire--I do really miss that, I must confess.
*Time to bring all these ramblings together: Coaching is an extremely rewarding profession that dominates a person's life. The emotional ups and downs that accompany it provide a stress that can easily age someone before his or her time; the rewards of winning and building relationships are immeasurable; the gut-wrenching stab of losing can lower one's self-esteem, make the coach question his or her priorities, and often lead to physical health issues. So, in answer to the question of "Do I miss coaching?" my response is actually quite simple: My life is much more peaceful these days because I am no longer on the emotional roller coaster of coaching; I miss the camaraderie with fellow coaches/players and the competition, but I am sleeping full nights without much interruption. When I see former players, I am greeted by handshakes and hugs . . . what those kids don't really appreciate just yet is that those gestures have made it all worthwhile . . . that was the true beauty of coaching for me.
*******
In response to inquiries, if any reader has missed my postings, the collection may be found at the following: michaelagunther.blogspot.com
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
A Revelation
Paul Fromm
St. Ann's Hospital for Women
Columbus, Ohio
Columbus, Ohio
September 10, 1955
Do you know that guy? He's a handsome dude; colorful--sometimes a bit off-color; some like him, some don't; some think he's wrapped pretty solidly, others think the "butter dun slid off his biscuits." Again, do you know him?
The answer is that boy--with the exception of the "handsome dude" comment--is me, Mike Gunther. I am an adopted child. In February 1956, my parents chose me to be their son. Two years previously they had chosen my soon-to-be sister from the same hospital/orphanage to be their daughter. To many, I assume that revelation is somewhat of a shock . . . to this boy, that adoption was my life.
At birth, I was given the name of Paul Fromm; anyone born prior to 1964 has the right to purchase for a nominal fee his or her original birth certificate, so after being married and realizing that my wife and I wanted to have children, we decided that it was in our best interests to try finding out my health history. Therefore, the documents I received from the State of Ohio were hoped to be helpful--they weren't, at least regarding my health history, which simply stated "Normal." What I did learn was that my mother's last name was Fromm and she lived in Columbus. My father's name was nowhere to be found. To inject a bit of humor into this conversation, whenever anyone would refer to me as a bastard--which certainly has happened in my teaching/coaching background--I would reply, "How did you know that?" It usually stopped the conversation immediately. (Anyway, I apologize to anyone I may have offended with that last comment.) In simple terms, I have a mother's name, but I have no record of a father's name . . . and I really don't care about either one.
The question of whether to pursue my original birth parents has never been an overwhelming desire. Yes, as an adult, I have been curious, but not enough to want to pursue a search. Nearly twenty years ago, when I was staying at a Columbus-area hotel for a weekend, I went through the phone book just to see; encountering a whole slew of Fromms, I closed the book and abandoned my search. Since that time, I have taken no steps to ever find out anything more. Again, yes, the curiosity is still there, but I really don't know what discovering my actual birth mother would achieve if I even knew other than to perhaps bring disappointment to another family, something I am not willing to do.
So, the issue is simple: Why am I even writing this? The answer is because it seems to me to be a topic others might want to read about . . . perhaps many readers have a similar background. With that said, let me share a few other tidbits about this situation. When I was probably six, I was in the backyard shooting baskets on my eight-foot basket when my parents called both my sister and me into the kitchen. I distinctly remember their formally seating us at the green kitchen table--which even had a pull-out tray, bigtime stuff!--and their telling us that they wanted to share something with us. Having no idea what this was about, my sister Carol and I sat there waiting . . . and they told us we were adopted--we both had different parents (Carol, FYI, was not my blood sister). A magical moment in retrospect, but at that time, I asked what that meant. My dad told us that they had gotten us in Columbus but they--Marge and Jack, my parents--were not our "real" parents. Carol and I looked at each other, said, "so," and then asked if we could go outside and play again. That was the impact the announcement had on us . . . nothing. The reasons were simple: We were loved, cared for, and encouraged--we didn't need anything else.
As my life unfolded, nothing changed. Yes, I had the proverbial shout-outs with my dad because my hair was too long (imagine that), I was lippy, and I didn't listen--with the exception of the hair, all the aforementioned were true. However, my mother soothed the waters, thus creating a happy home where being adopted meant absolutely nothing. A typical home in typical small-town America, Gnadenhutten provided a wonderful upbringing . . . safe, fun, and conservative. I suppose Peyton Place moments occurred, but growing up I had no knowledge of that side of life. What I did know is that I was secure with what I didn't know! We took care of our own little world, and that was enough for us. My friends and I were no altar boys, by any stretch--got caught doing stupid stunts . . . got away with far more than we should have . . . always knew right from wrong, whether we followed the proper path or not . . . tried to appear as innocent although anyone who really knew us understood we tried to get away with whatever we could--sound like kids today? In simple terms, my friends and I were ornery, but we were certainly respectful. The reason had so much to do with the way we were raised: I suppose we were afraid we would "get a paddlin'" when we got home, but, truthfully, I had already had enough of those to last a lifetime--I'm not so sure fear of my dad's scorn scared me that much. What really kept me in line was the anticipated disappointment my mother would point my way . . . no way did I want her to see me negatively . . . the ol' man, I guess he probably expected my behavior just because I was a boy.
You see how it all comes together? No excuses offered--strong family, strong values, caring community--those were the keys. Oh yeah, we had our supposed heathens, but even those kids weren't bad--perhaps different circumstances influenced their lives, but they weren't bad kids. We all wanted attention, recognition, love . . . didn't matter what home we came from because at our core we had the same desires. (Here's a hint about a future blog: Kids today aren't as different as we from our generation think.)
What that adoption did for me was give me a life, one I have cherished for a lifetime. As stated, I was and am not any kind of angelic figure . . . trust me on that. What I learned is that Paul Fromm is eternally grateful that he became Mike Gunther, the son of Jack and Marge and brother to Carol . . .it's a ride that I owe to them, my buddies, and my hometown . . . what a great way to live!
You see how it all comes together? No excuses offered--strong family, strong values, caring community--those were the keys. Oh yeah, we had our supposed heathens, but even those kids weren't bad--perhaps different circumstances influenced their lives, but they weren't bad kids. We all wanted attention, recognition, love . . . didn't matter what home we came from because at our core we had the same desires. (Here's a hint about a future blog: Kids today aren't as different as we from our generation think.)
What that adoption did for me was give me a life, one I have cherished for a lifetime. As stated, I was and am not any kind of angelic figure . . . trust me on that. What I learned is that Paul Fromm is eternally grateful that he became Mike Gunther, the son of Jack and Marge and brother to Carol . . .it's a ride that I owe to them, my buddies, and my hometown . . . what a great way to live!
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Technology: My Fear
Being unwilling to accept change has sometimes been an issue in many of our lives, specifically mine. Whether it be adapting to new teaching guidelines, buying different style clothing, eating more "heart-healthy" foods, or considering the value of a new school, we often find that accepting change is so intimidating that it is much easier to just dig in and continue doing what we always have done. Not a bad idea, I suppose, but certainly an indicator of stubbornness, and a sign that remaining in the past is far more comforting than embracing the future. Unfortunately, I am living proof that my own stubbornness clearly made me look like a fool. The culprit: technology.
Nearly 25 years ago while I was teaching at Strasburg High School, two respected teaching peers confronted me about attending a voluntary staff after-school workshop that was focusing on the transition from an electric typewriter to a computer. My reaction? "I'm not going to that thing--I'm comfortable enough with my typewriter." To shorten the story, they laughed at me and implied that my stance was ridiculous; not wanting to be made fun of, I surrendered and attended the workshop, thus beginning my transition into the technological world. I soon realized--and continue to understand today--that my real fear was my own incompetence: technology scared me!
From that uncomfortable beginning, I have grown, but I must admit to still fearing technology and its power. What always scared me when I was teaching high school was the fear that what I had been working on would suddenly disappear, regardless of whether I had saved it on a hard drive, an outdated floppy disk, or a flash drive. I can still hear the words of Jeff Eklund, Dover Schools' retired computer guru, who constantly reminded staff members that "disks will always break . . . save, save, save in different areas." As a result, I became paranoid that I would lose years of work by simply hitting the wrong button; even though I am more adept at working with computers today, that fear still lingers. With that being said, I suspect that I have captured the thoughts of many of my age group, but my point is that technology has changed so much of our world and of our approach, and I am living proof of that.
Three years ago I recall a conversation with my building principal who told me that I needed to start a Facebook page because it was becoming the modern form of communication--I laughed and quickly decided that I was not entering that world . . . too much controversy, too many problems, too much personal revealing. Again, my ignorance made me look like a fool. Ultimately, I investigated, discovered that my fears were somewhat irrational, and created a Facebook page. What I learned was that it served as a connector to many people: friends, relatives, former students, and high school and college peers. I recognized that I could control my content; I had been convinced that the page was a gateway to unsavory behavior, that the page would begin my deterioration into immorality, and that the page would allow my students to post anonymous criticisms and observations. Instead, I liked what it afforded me: I could keep in touch and hear comments of many people I knew because I was the one who allowed them to enter my world. If I didn't want them to be with me, I simply rejected them or never invited them in the first place. In short, for me, Facebook has been a welcome addition.
As further proof, I obviously am writing a blog these days. I have always enjoyed writing, but today's technology has encouraged me to expand my thinking, to share thoughts. Until the past year or so, I would not have done this publicly because I would not have been willing to take the risk of playing with the techie side; today, though, my comfort level has grown partially because of my improved ease with cell phones (another point of contention with me when they first hit the market) and because of a classroom technology class I enrolled in two summers ago. With every new advancement, I still find myself overwhelmed, but I have become willing to try to learn because if I don't I realize that the term "dinosaur" will soon be me . . . and I am unwilling to accept that description.
I still have friends who are unwilling to wade too far into using modern devices or programs--I understand that, but every time I hear one of them say "I'm not doing that," I hear my own voice from 25 years ago . . . it is so easy to stay in the past, but without my venturing into the present I would find myself leading a relatively dull and somewhat predictable life . . . and I am not willing to do that!
Nearly 25 years ago while I was teaching at Strasburg High School, two respected teaching peers confronted me about attending a voluntary staff after-school workshop that was focusing on the transition from an electric typewriter to a computer. My reaction? "I'm not going to that thing--I'm comfortable enough with my typewriter." To shorten the story, they laughed at me and implied that my stance was ridiculous; not wanting to be made fun of, I surrendered and attended the workshop, thus beginning my transition into the technological world. I soon realized--and continue to understand today--that my real fear was my own incompetence: technology scared me!
From that uncomfortable beginning, I have grown, but I must admit to still fearing technology and its power. What always scared me when I was teaching high school was the fear that what I had been working on would suddenly disappear, regardless of whether I had saved it on a hard drive, an outdated floppy disk, or a flash drive. I can still hear the words of Jeff Eklund, Dover Schools' retired computer guru, who constantly reminded staff members that "disks will always break . . . save, save, save in different areas." As a result, I became paranoid that I would lose years of work by simply hitting the wrong button; even though I am more adept at working with computers today, that fear still lingers. With that being said, I suspect that I have captured the thoughts of many of my age group, but my point is that technology has changed so much of our world and of our approach, and I am living proof of that.
Three years ago I recall a conversation with my building principal who told me that I needed to start a Facebook page because it was becoming the modern form of communication--I laughed and quickly decided that I was not entering that world . . . too much controversy, too many problems, too much personal revealing. Again, my ignorance made me look like a fool. Ultimately, I investigated, discovered that my fears were somewhat irrational, and created a Facebook page. What I learned was that it served as a connector to many people: friends, relatives, former students, and high school and college peers. I recognized that I could control my content; I had been convinced that the page was a gateway to unsavory behavior, that the page would begin my deterioration into immorality, and that the page would allow my students to post anonymous criticisms and observations. Instead, I liked what it afforded me: I could keep in touch and hear comments of many people I knew because I was the one who allowed them to enter my world. If I didn't want them to be with me, I simply rejected them or never invited them in the first place. In short, for me, Facebook has been a welcome addition.
As further proof, I obviously am writing a blog these days. I have always enjoyed writing, but today's technology has encouraged me to expand my thinking, to share thoughts. Until the past year or so, I would not have done this publicly because I would not have been willing to take the risk of playing with the techie side; today, though, my comfort level has grown partially because of my improved ease with cell phones (another point of contention with me when they first hit the market) and because of a classroom technology class I enrolled in two summers ago. With every new advancement, I still find myself overwhelmed, but I have become willing to try to learn because if I don't I realize that the term "dinosaur" will soon be me . . . and I am unwilling to accept that description.
I still have friends who are unwilling to wade too far into using modern devices or programs--I understand that, but every time I hear one of them say "I'm not doing that," I hear my own voice from 25 years ago . . . it is so easy to stay in the past, but without my venturing into the present I would find myself leading a relatively dull and somewhat predictable life . . . and I am not willing to do that!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)