Last Saturday I spent my entire Saturday in a humid indoor pool with my 10 ten year old daughter, Louisa.  She has been swimming competitively since she was 6, first in summer leagues and then venturing into the winter swim season last year.  Now my daughter is a lot of things: smart, funny, stubborn and compassionate.  But she has never been very competitive.  Soccer and basketball turned out to be opportunities for her to socialize and run around at the same time.  This has had its upsides: she is mostly focused on learning to learn and less worried about grades, and she has FUN because her activities are always more social than competitive.  She is solidly average, which is a fine place to be.  She enjoys swimming and plugs along, dropping time and having fun. And so it goes.

Until last week.  Suddenly, my lackadaisical swimmer turned into a beast.  She was concentrating on making the Silver Championships and talked nonstop about her coach and the time she needed.  Not in a stressed out “My-life-will-end-if-I-don’t-make-it” way but in a confident, excited way.  She could visualize a different experience for herself: she saw herself as a champion.  Her coach spent extra time with her on the deck going over the 100 IM, her “signature” race, reminding her of all the things she needed to focus on.  She dropped time in all her events and was nervous and excited for that last race.  During the race, her coach was there coaxing and cheering for her, as you can see in the picture.

As she stepped up onto the block, I said a quick mommy prayer.  Whether she made it to Silver Champs or not was not the issue for me.  I just wanted her to drop time and see that her hard work was paying off.  Not for me, but for her.  It just felt good seeing her confident about swimming.  I have to admit, watching her race was so fun for me, as well.  Watching her dive in with confidence to take a risk was exciting!

Here’s the video of the race.

 Turns out, she dropped A LOT of time but missed the championship cut off by .30 seconds.  That’s the pull out she forgot on her breaststroke, or two extra breaths on the freestyle.  That’s nothing.

The beauty of the moment for me, as a mom and educator, was her response afterwards.  My daughter was so excited that she made it THAT CLOSE.  She looked at me with mild disappointment in her eyes, smiled and said, “Well, now I know I can make it next year.”  That was it.  She is now talking about summer and working hard so she can start next fall with her eye on making the championships.

Cue the heart swoon and lump in my throat.

Afterwards, her coach approached me, hesitant and apologetic.  She told me she hoped I was not mad at her for pushing Louisa.  She worried Louisa would be devastated, and I would be protective and angry.  I looked her right in the eye and said, “do not EVER apologize for pushing a child to reach for something bigger than herself.”  We talked for a bit about how appreciative my husband and I were that she even took the time to see Louisa as a swimmer, and that she built such confidence in her.

At the end, the coach looked at me and said, “you know, I am not sure we really saw Louisa as a competitive swimmer at first.  She kinda came out of nowhere and it turns out she’s a reliable, talented swimmer.”  That is no coincidence.  My daughter became a reliable competitive swimmer the day her coach told her she could be.

This is what I have been sitting on for the last week.  This thought rolling around in my head:  what IF no one saw her as more than average?  She needed an intervention: recognition and someone to believe in her.  How many times does this not happen for kids?  How many times do we look at the data (the swim times, the benchmark scores, the reading lexile) and say, “Oh, he is fine.  He’s solidly average!”  What if all it takes is for someone to say, “You know, your reading is great but if you just do x,y,z you could be one of the best readers in the class?”

I work with teachers every day that do this naturally and without even thinking for many of our kids – they are constantly coaching their students to become better at their craft.  But I have a nagging suspicion we are missing some of our quieter or less confident students sometimes.  How do we encourage all our students to dive in and stretch themselves with confidence?

Prior to our winter break, I had lunch with a student who is new to our building this year.  As we sat and talked about how the year was going and where he was from, I learned some interesting pieces of his story that his school transcripts did not provide.  He told me about his father, who immigrated from Africa years ago.  He told me his family visited his father’s family in Africa every year or so, and some of the things he got to do there.  And then he told me, “It really bothers me when people find out my dad is from Africa and start talking about how poor it is.  That is not true. ”  With pride, he described to me just how similar his family lived to our families here.  The conversation got me thinking about how we, as educators, have a duty to build empathy and understanding of others.  The easiest way to do that would be to focus on the deficits: war, poverty, famine, lack of education… nothing builds empathy faster than opening our eyes to injustice and tangible inequity.  But I think we run the risk of turning others into victims, powerless and one-dimensional, when we focus on “lack of” stories.  In every culture, community, state, and country, there is a richness in our stories that connects us and highlights the diversity within diversity.

This was before the news headlines last week where African countries were described in an extremely offensive manner by the leadership of this country.  When that news broke, I immediately thought of my student, and of students past, (as I always do) when I saw the comment.  Yes, the language was offensive, but even more so is the assumption that there is only a single story of Haiti, Africa, or any country.  Yes, there is poverty.  There is deep poverty here in America, too.  But there are also many people, regardless of wealth, who have merit, worth, something to contribute… and a story.  After my initial shock wore off, I began to wonder what our role is as educators in ensuring we do not fall into the trap of the single, one dimensional story of humanity.

This past week, during a session on equity for Professional Development providers in our region, we discussed Discourse 1 and Discourse 2 language.  Swirling through these two events are so many missed opportunities to move from Discourse 1 to Discourse 2.

Discourse 1 and 2 Chart

I am left with these reflections:

1.  How do we, as educators, continuously draw our students into curriculum that emphasizes Discourse 2?
2. When we expose our students to hardships in other cultures, do we also take time to celebrate the strengths and richness?
3. Are we providing models of multiple truths to our students, or sticking with the single story?
4. Do we take the time to think about how even our measures of “ability and merit” are grounded in what we have determined to be privileged?
5. I think of our students with disabilities.  Thanks, in part to their IEPs, we know all that they can NOT do, but do we know what they CAN?  Do we make sure their lights shine brightly in our communities and that others see their contributions?

I can’t help but think that as we update curriculum, this chart should be front and center.  As we create policy, student handbooks and honor roll criteria, are we focusing on Discourse 1 or Discourse 2?

A number of years ago, our school board adopted a Wellness Policy that states food should not be given as a reward.  The idea was that we send the wrong message about food and nutrition when we give students candy for completing homework, and undermine our ability to teach students about health and nutrition.  I for one am on board with this theory, but I also believe it is necessary for another reason.  I believe strongly that rewards tend to destroy the intrinsic motivation students naturally have when they enter our doors as young children.

I am currently immersed in Daniel Pink’s book Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us and all around me I see examples of what Pink describes as our natural desire to learn, create and problem solve, our third drive.  While carrots and sticks may have been more effective when work was routine, we now have many more jobs that require creativity, critical thinking, and the ability to think deeply.  Carrots and sticks may get people to work faster, but often at the risk of losing depth or sustainable effects.  It is the equivalent of cramming for a test: you remember it for the day but not in the long term and often not with any depth of understanding.

Yesterday, my family went ice skating.  My husband grew up in the south and only has been ice skating once a year for the past 10 years on our annual pilgrimage to the ice rink.  The same can be said for our ten year old daughter and six year old son.  Our three year old joined our sorry team this year for the first time.  As I watched all four of my family members struggle, fall and get back up again… OVER AND OVER, I was struck by the intrinsic motivation they all showed.  Henry, our three year old, was skating independently, albeit slowly and after many tears, by the end of the afternoon.  Even as they faltered or fell, I saw smiles, laughter and determination.  There was no reward at the end – no money or food provided.  No “If you skate, we will give you a piece of candy.”  But man, were they all proud!  They knew they (somewhat) mastered a really difficult task through determination and effort.  That was reward enough.

The same could be said of our students during design challenge days at my school.  There is no reward for building the strongest bridge, or the best sleigh.  The reward is the sense of accomplishment and pride you feel from stretching yourself and learning something new.

I am left wondering: How do we ensure our actions as parents and/or educators nurture intrinsic motivation?   Do all our practices align with this belief, or do we still undermine our message the culture and structures schools have in place? What practices do we need to eliminate from our classrooms and schools that undermine the third drive (intrinsic motivation)?  How can we incorporate more autonomy (voice and choice), mastery (growth mindset and engagement) and purpose (greater objective) to our classrooms and schools?  These elements are present in Genius Hour, EdCamp and Project Based Learning to be sure, but are there other ways educators have found success in supporting intrinsic motivation for learning?

Today I had the privilege of speaking to an audience of teachers and educational leaders at the annual Pennsylvania SAS Institute.  I love presenting at conferences because, honestly, I walk away from my sessions smarter than when I arrived.  While thinking deeply about how we build an innovative school culture, a question popped up on the shared google doc we created that gave me pause:

I’m wondering how school leaders model their personal growth mindset?

I am lingering on the word personal.  Honestly, I embed professional learning in pretty easily, I think.  I talk to students and teachers about information I am learning.  I am okay with admitting a mistake and going back at it to fix it.  I have a professional bucket list, so to speak, of things that I would consider a little risky and that push my limits.  For example, I am in the midst of a doctoral program at the University of Pittsburgh.  I have begun presenting at conferences and networking more consistently.  I read articles, blogs and books.  I discuss and share my learning and learn from others.

But I wonder what personal growth I am taking on at this point and time.  As with most people, I tend to gravitate towards things I do well already.  But maybe it is time to renew that bucket list and put myself out there personally, not just professionally.  It made me think about some of the activities I would like to try (skiing) or improve my current practice (yoga).

Over the past two days, I have spent time listening and learning from George Couros, author of the Innovators Mindset, who challenges us to act consistently with what we are asking teachers and students to do.  We often expect things from students that we are not willing to do ourselves.  As we continue to push our teachers to embrace a growth mindset professionally, we should make sure we are demonstrating a growth mindset personally and professionally ourselves.  Maybe part of the modeling process is not just the professional piece.  Maybe I could effect change even further by modeling my personal growth as well.

Likewise, this question also made me wonder which teachers struggling with embracing innovation have embraced a personal growth mindset outside of work.  Are their members of my staff willing to travel, embrace new learning outside their comfort zones, take guitar lessons or a cooking class for the first time?  Sure there are!  Are some of these people afraid of professional change and professional risk taking?  Absolutely!  Maybe by knowing this, I could reflect and draw out some of those same skills to translate into professional growth around innovative teaching and learning!

I am left with so much to ponder.  So grateful for this question and the reflection it has encouraged for me to improve my practice.

May is typically a busy month in our building, full of field trips, concerts, meetings, and more field trips. State testing is over for the vast majority of students, so you would think things would settle down into a nice end-of-the-year lull. I started my tenure in my building the last week of school 5 years ago. As I walked to halls trying to find my way around, I noticed how QUIET it was. Students sat in classrooms signing yearbooks and half watching movies. It felt as if we were biding time until the final bell. After all, PSSAs were done and books were being packed away. What more learning could take place?

Step into our building this week and there is an almost frenetic and quite palpable energy pulsating throughout each hallway. Students are reading novels, meeting with authors, engaging in student run ed camps, presenting their genius hour projects, creating videos, and producing artifacts of their learning. Although today was an uncomfortable 85 degrees with no air conditioning, not one student complained to me about the heat or the desire for school to be over. I walked into classrooms where students were producing visual thinking on mindmaps and engaged in lively debates about topics of interest.

May has become a sort of informal What If month for our staff. Teachers are willing to use this month as experimental time to incorporate new learning or new technology into their activities. Often these will reappear much earlier in the following school year, as teachers see the engagement and excitement of their students. For example, some of the PBL units we challenged teachers to create this fall are coming to fruition during the month of May. Professional development opportunities that teachers chose earlier in the year are coming alive now for our students. Flexibility is the name of the game this month; chaos abounds and the energy is tangible.

The experience I found most fascinating was our 8th grade genius hour presentations. Topics were diverse: coding, foreign language, travel, writing a novel, composing a song, documenting the genius hour projects. As I listened to students explain what they chose and why they chose it, a few themes emerged as through lines. Students described picking a topic because they thought they were good at it already. However, once they began embarking on the journey they found it was not quite so easy. Some initially even gave up, and described trying to find something else to do. However, I found it interesting that most students stuck with their original plan, even if it did not end up as they had first envisioned. They adapted their expectations or limited the scope in order to continue growing as learners in an area of passion.

I see this as similar to our own adult efforts over the past two or three years. We have spent time pondering WHAT IF questions and determining where we can tap into our own professional passions to continue growing as learners and teachers. And our paths have not been linear. Indeed, we often have started down one path only to find we needed to expand or contract the scope of our efforts. But that has not made us any less committed to the work we have embarked upon. I used to think as a strong leader that it was essential to always set strict time tables for completion, but I am beginning to think when we are passionate and committed, the time tables take care of themselves. If we are passionate, the internal drive to figure it out far outweighs the external expectations we may impose. The urgency is no longer about meeting artificial deadlines but to continue cultivating our practice. The complaint I have heard most often this month is: I have so much to do yet and I don’t know how to fit it all in!

I used to think that the struggle and tension that comes with change was a sign that things were failing. Now I think it is the way organic growth should be. We should question, slow down and honor the differences of others who may not see things the same way we do. It is in that listening that we may find a third and better path which ultimately improves student outcomes. Where I used to worry that others may see weakness in my willingness to change course, I now see that as long as the destination is the same, the path to get there may be altered from my original map. Sometimes the most circuitous route is the most rewarding journey.

I used to think the last weeks of school would be slow and a little more relaxing. Now I KNOW this is the busiest time of the year; so much to see and experience, I am constantly afraid I am missing out. The urgency I feel is part of our culture of growth and student engagement we are continuously building in our school. Risk taking becomes contagious when coupled with student engagement. This year we are opening our doors to welcome the larger educational community into our building for ReMake Learning Days because we are so excited for all we continue to accomplish.

I used to think when we in the midst of the struggle it meant nothing was changing. Now I think change can feel like turning a cruise ship: you do not know you are turning until the ship is turned around. We are always changing, growing and learning, so this cycle will continue. But for now, it is a great way to end the year, celebrating our successes and seeing so much joy on the faces of our teachers and students.

Since the presidential election in November, I have felt a little muted and a little worried. I entered into this career almost 20 years ago because I believe education is an important issue of social justice and equity. Education is the great equalizer – you do not have to be monetarily rich to be mentally rich. As a child and now an adult who reads vociferously, and who is curious about the world around me, I have been increasingly disappointed with the level of discourse swirling about me. The Stanford study, indicating that teens and young adults are unable to detect false news seemed to be a direct shot to my heart. How can it be that we have forgotten how to think critically and to probe information for depth over shallow thinking? This seems to me like a call to arms for us educators who have been passionate about making sure we implement critical thinking and problem solving in our school cultures.

Driving to work the other day, I heard this quote as part of a news segment and for the past few days it has been swirling around in my mind and has provided me with desire to voice my thoughts again.

Our heads are round so our thoughts can change.
Frances Picabia

The more you know, the more flexible your thinking becomes and the more likely that you will be to change your mind and possibly reverse course. In other words, while it definitely feels safer to see the world as black and white, it is most definitely a spectrum of grays. If unction follows form, we were designed to be flexible thinkers able to adapt our thoughts to accommodate for new information. I believe innovative teaching practices that require us to focus on collaboration, problem solving, critical thinking and art may be the only way we can truly level the playing field and make certain education remains an opportunity for all. We must model flexible thinking and empathy daily with our students and colleagues. Fixed mindsets will not get us to our end goal or encourage our children to think and do better. Instead, we must arm our children with these beliefs because we are in the midst of rapid changes both economically and politically.

Meryl Streep’s speech at the Golden Globes highlighted the importance of art in amplifying empathy. How as educators do we ensure our students are not only comfortable in the gray, but able to seek out information and make decisions with empathy and armed with knowledge rather than merely simplified gut instincts or reactions to feeling of fear?

Just today, a fifth grade teacher relayed to me a lesson he was conducting on bias: his students were analyzing primary sources about the Boston Massacre from both the American Colonists and British. Even though the facts were the same, the bias on each side was clear. It is only through empathy that we can begin to understand the root of that bias (can you see how the British may have felt or what they may have believed?).

Two weeks ago, 30 students from our Junior High participated in a day long anti-bias training with facilitators from the Anti-Defamation League. During the day, students shared their thoughts about bullying, stereotyping and building empathy. There was not much “innovative” about the day – no bells and whistles, just good honest time for communicating, growing and reflecting. We spent the day thinking about the world from different lenses and hopefully built some capacity for leadership among our student body. As I sat in the room discussing these issues with our students, I was reminded of all the promise they hold to make this world a better place.

I keep circling back to how we can provide more of these opportunities to our students. While I think part of innovation lives in technology and creation, I believe the half must focus on the humanity. Perspective taking, leadership, character and empathy education. The true impact is when the former and latter blend and the real change begins.

“Try your best to make goodness attractive. That’s one of the toughest assignments you’ll ever be given.”
― Fred Rogers

A few weeks ago, our district hosted our first annual P3TechFest for teachers. The day was filled with opportunities to learn how to incorporate technology and making into the classroom and kicked off with a wonderful keynote address by Sunanna Chand (@sunannac) from the Remake Learning Network. Sunanna made a connection to Fred Rodgers, reminding us how he was a man who not thrilled with the newest technology of his time: television. He was concerned about the quality of programming available for children. Rather than dig in and resist the changes, he chose respond and craft a program that solved the problem. Because of his decision to identify a problem and seek a solution (something we are trying to instill in our students today), millions of children learned more about imagination, kindness and community, including me, through Mr. Rodgers Neighborhood. My teachers, family and friends all instilled those values in me, and I would have them regardless of Mr. Rodgers, but he affirmed and enhanced them through his television show. Sunanna challenged us, as educators, to become modern day Fred Rodgers.

As an administrator in a 5-8 building, I have to admit that my embrace of innovation and technology has been pretty strong, but not without prejudice. Should students use IPads and Chromebooks as much as possible? Yes. Class and building Twitter? Yes! Should youtube be opened for educational purposes? Yes! Should teachers use apple TVs and Google classroom? Yes! Voxer? YES! Should we allow snapchat? Nope! Should we move to BYOD? Double nope. If I am being honest, most of this revolves around the negative examples and experiences I have had or read about with these experiences. Like most humans, my first impulse is to just avoid because there are other things I feel more comfortable tackling.

This summer I read Innovator’s Mindset, by George Couros. He directly challenged my inconsistent philosophy around technology and social media in schools leaving me feeling a bit guilty, but not quite ready to make a complete jump into the deep end of the pool. I was still hesitant and while my head knows he is right, I wasn’t quite sold but at least I was aware of my personal biases and was willing to take some new risks.

Then three things happened.

First Sunanna reminded us about Mr. Rodgers and our obligation to engage our students in transformational ways.

Secondly, I was approached by some speedboats. Speedboats are what we lovingly nickname the innovative instructional leaders who are constantly finding new ways to engage their students, early adopters if you will. Speedboats push their peers and administrators to continue growing, as much as they challenge their students. Speedboats were the ones who said, “Jessica, that should have been shared out on google docs, not in a paper copy!” when we first rolled out google accounts a few years ago. And who now come to me begging to use Snapchat in their classrooms so students can do booksnaps. I took a deep breath and shared my worries. My speedboats listened respectfully and then laid out their plan, addressing my concerns. They then started incorporating booksnaps into their own learning, using them on articles and books they themselves were reading and posting them on their own social media accounts. I could still feel the knee jerk hesitancy creeping in, but I channeled George Couros and agreed to be open to the idea.

And then we welcomed a new student. Joe joins us from China, speaking only Chinese, and no English. We only have two other students who speak Mandarin but none in his grade. We worked hard to quickly lay out a plan to welcome Joe and find supports for him. Half way through his first day, we received a call from his homeroom teacher asking us to come up to her room. Upon entering, we saw students all around Joe…with their cell phones out. Now, my building is NOT BYOD or cell phone friendly. So, this required students to technically be breaking the rules! The students ran over and showed me how they were using Google Translate to find out about Joe. He liked basketball, just like them! He likes math, just like they do! The students were so excited to connect with their new classmate.

The most poignant action, however, did not involve any technology. Students had created and posted handwritten labels of nouns all around the room (desk, table, computer, chair). One noun stuck out, though. Students had put labels on themselves with the word “friend”. The teachers and I were reduced to puddles at this simple gesture of inclusion and community. The following day, the homeroom teacher told me the students asked if they could have some time to play basketball with Joe since it was his favorite sport.

The technology helped us communicate and strengthen the bonds of community. When given the freedom to problem solve, the students rose to the challenge and enhanced their connection through the use of technology. But the community was built by the teacher and the students, not the technology. Maybe the technology made the goodness more attractive by providing instant gratification to those reaching out to Joe.

The following day while at a meeting, I was checking email. My inbox was full of emails from teachers who have Joe in class explaining to each other how they used technology to patch a system together for him to communicate using Google translate. One teacher explained how her Google classroom allowed Joe to participate in activities day one, and offered to help others interested in setting up an account. Again, just like our students, technology did not create the desire to connect with their new student, but it sure made it a lot easier and quicker, both for Joe and for our professional learning community.

I may not be completely there yet. While those gremlins who sow seeds of doubt around too much technology still live inside of me, I definitely have fewer today than last summer, and even last month. I believe we need to be vigilant, like Mr. Rodgers, to make sure we are using technology to teach about community, kindness and using our imagination. We need to have tough conversations to make sure our integration is deliberate and that we are willing to be responsible for teaching the digital citizenship that goes with it. We still need to be the ones to create opportunities that encourage curiosity and deep thinking. Because, as Spider-Man reminds us: with great power, comes great responsibility. But I am that much closer to being a true innovator with these conversations and experiences.

“Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I’m through with playing by the rules
Of someone else’s game
Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It’s time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes and leap!”
__Wicked – Defying Gravity Lyrics

A few weeks ago, I entered a jam packed hallway, wedged myself between two groups of parent and attempted to drown out all the chatter around me to listen to students explain on video what they created for their innovation gallery walk. Man, it was hot in there! Because many members in our community turned out to learn more about what their children were spending time in school doing, which looks extremely different than years past.

Four educators from our elementary schools took a huge risk this year and changed the way they teach and students learn to engage in a project based and maker learning unit. The staff began the evening with an explanation of what they changed and why. I was most struck by the visuals they laid out for parents. The teachers took a table and filled it with the basal readers, worksheets and other traditional tools that had used in the years prior to teach the lessons. And next to that was a table overflowing with authentic resources, pictures books and the maker cart they assembled.

I am not sure how the visual alone does not convince you that students are receiving richer experiences with project based learning and the opportunity to create. But if you need more proof, you should have seen these kindergarteners and third graders telling their parents about the inventions they made as part of the unit. The ownership and pride is what gets me every time. As a fellow principal stated to me the other day, kids always defy my expectations.

It reminds me of the conversations I tend to have with my husband, who has a talent for woodworking and carpentry. When I ask him to create something, a book case, a dresser, a headboard for our bed, I envision something somewhat simple because my own understanding of the trade is so limited. What he creates always defies my expectations and blows me away. It took him a while to understand that my underestimation of his skills was not due to HIS ability but MY OWN.

As long as we tether to students to our expectations, to what we can imagine, we are limiting them in ways we cannot even know precisely because we do not know!

“I’m through accepting limits
’cause someone says they’re so
Some things I cannot change
But till I try, I’ll never know!”
__Wicked – Defying Gravity Lyrics

As a teenager, a friend of our family used to invite my sisters and I to attend the Sunday matinees at the symphony. I have vivid memories before the show of sitting on the plush benches as people mingled and her father would ask me, “Who catches your eye? What do you see? What do you think his/her story is?” We would make up stories or imagine what the person was thinking. It was such a little exercise meant to take up time but I enjoyed it so much, precisely because I am most definitely a watcher. In some circles, we call that slow looking. Slow looking means carefully observing more than initially meets the eye. It is an essential way of gaining knowledge about our world.

This week I was fortunate enough to be in Washington Dc for a Project Zero perspectives conference. I came alone, which caused me some anxiety as I thought about mixing in a crowd of strangers. To be honest, I am not much of a “people person”; I like people and listening and observing people, but I am horrible at initiating small talk. As I sat the first day waiting for the conference to begin, I closed my eyes and listened to the cacophony of voices, the multitude of languages tickling my ear. People from all over the world were seated around me, and we all had one thing in common, a passion for teaching and learning that brought us to this conference. As the days progressed I learned about schooling in other regions, countries and continents as we shared our experiences. It was wonderful to have time to connect with others who are so different, yet so similar to me!

Throughout the days there, we focused on slow looking and thinking, slowing down to really analyze and go deep, whether studying plants, national art treasures, or creating digital models. It was amazing to have a chance to stop time and wonder. I learned a new term: HOMAGO, which stands for Hang Out, Mess Around Geek Out. I discussed how we build cultures of innovation by working on community and honoring each person who is somewhere along the journey with us. Some of us are hanging out, some are messing around and others are completely geeking out, intensely and with conviction. If we rush the process and do not allow time for reflection, risk taking will become non-existent.

One way to honor the journey is to document it. I spent the day today with two educators who have worked tirelessly to innovate, and support others on the path to innovation. I know sometimes we feel that we still have further to go, and become frustrated and overwhelmed. Today we mapped out our journey of the past four years and WOW. Just WOW! Putting down all that they have accomplished was humbling for me as a principal. The plans for improvements for the year are already underway but it is so essential and powerful to celebrate the work we have done! We definitely were geeking out today.

As Simone Weil’s reminds us: “Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity”. How do we ensure we slow down enough to provide that attention to nurture our educational communities, both teachers and students, to HOMAGO, to slow down, to observe and wonder and therefore to innovate? This year I am hopeful that I can be fully present to listen, observe and attend, to engage in slow looking and listening as a testament to my community.

During a job interview a few years ago, someone asked me to describe my educational philosophy and leadership style as it relates to middle school students.  Without much thought I instantly connected to my own memories of middle school.  Back then I was a smart, but shy and quiet student.   My report cards were full of A’s and comments like, “Jessica is a pleasure to have in class.”  Always wanting to please, I completed my work, did what was expected, learned the content.  Basically, I was the student we all enjoy having.  The one who would show up and participate no matter what level of energy we brought that day.  I would never have given myself the label of leader; I knew my teachers liked me and I had friends, but I did not have a sense that people would listen or that I had ideas worth listening to.  My best memory of middle schools revolved around one event that ultimately changed my view of myself and my future path.

Sound dramatic?  Let me explain.  When I entered middle school, my school was one of the first to team in the state.  I remember being on the purple team in 8th grade.  Back then, students with significant disabilities were in our building, but not a part of our school, really.  You merely saw them in the hallways or at lunch, but there is was no interaction.  A few of my teachers had followed my class from seventh to eighth grade, and lucky for me, they were invested in the idea of teaming involving student meetings.  One day, a student pulled the skirt over the head of a student in a wheelchair in the hallway.   Our teachers were so appalled by this behavior, that they brought our team together and laid the problem at our feet.  “What should we do?  What can be done?” They asked us.  They asked us.

I can still remember that sinking feeling in my stomach.  The fear that I might start crying as I raised my hand to speak.  Something made me keep my hand up and when I was called on, I told the teachers I thought maybe we should get to know these students; that kids would be less likely to tease them if they knew them personally.  “Great idea, Jessica!”  My teachers stated.  Man, was I pleased until…”Go ahead and organize it.”  GULP.  I was so nervous and scared, but I did it.  Because it was expected that I had the skill to do it.

We organized a lunch buddy and assembly buddy program for 8th graders to buddy up with students with disabilities.  Students did.  We contributed.  And from that moment forward, I realized I had the power to make a difference.  Because I was ASKED and EXPECTED to solve a problem for my community.  I began seeing myself as a leader, as someone who has something offer – to contribute.

Recently our Innovator’s Mindset Voxer chat began  discussing the idea of the 3C’s (collaboration, creativity and critical thinking) becoming 4C’s and including Contribution.  I think that is absolutely part of the essential skills we should be focused on.  Especially in middle school where students struggle to find their place and have a strong sense of justice and fairness.  That is my philosophy for middle school.  I believe we should be empowering kids by sharing problems, asking them to come up with solutions and organizing to solve problems.  We need them to contribute and see the power they have to make the world, their world, a better place.  When we do these things, we have students who realize they have the leadership skills already in them.  Students have something to offer.  We see this with Natalie Hampton who created the “Sit with Us” App and the Kid President videos that are inspiring millions of kids and adults with messages of kindness!  Innovation happens when we make space for students to connect with each other and when we offer opportunities for contributions to our community.

We all have that desire to contribute  – it is up to us as educators to tap into that with our students to make learning relevant for our kids.