349/365

left another pound of flesh
at the temple door.
don’t confuse this poet
with a martyr. it’s not
a sacrifice- when you beg to do it.

the fever pitch has us spinning.
the nights are long and still
draining old fashions,  
writing holiday cards,
ballads from the
nineteen seventies,
a soothing salve.

we’re certain love and devotion
are meant to be exhausting.
the question is whether we’ll survive.

222/365

the hurricane is about hit ground again.
warning signs are evident in the flurry
of agenda items populating documents.
there is a ratcheting of tension both
at home and in the classroom. no time
for naps or all day cooking projects,
summer routines fading as the roar
of a new school year can be heard trumpeted
in the distance like a wild horde
rampaging across the prairies.
sharpening the swords.
tightening the straps.
battening down the hatches.
drowning in this earnest desire
to teach. to connect    to students:
open eyes, hearts and minds.
the minutia of the work is trivial-
unit plans and years at glances.

the world is on fire and this work is for survival.

125/365

some days you’re just good at your job
every interaction is meaningful and sincere,
some more complex than others, but all necessary.
there’s a spring in your weary step
like you’re floating from place to place.
calendar invite, after calendar invite, after calendar invite:
pre-school emergency safe guarding meeting,
quick curriculum planning session, focusing on
new conceptual questions, integration of
learner profiles dispositions, and new assessments.
teach a class: going deep into logic
and how to skilfully weave evidence into analysis.
quick lunch, then duty on the field, where you help
two groups of sixth graders resolves a dispute
about who was using the goal first,
respond to an email about a student who is struggling,
touch base with the secretaries about the
form to help class placement for next year.
on to a meeting with the service team
and high school daraja about their
planned event for next year. quick chat with the designer
in communications about the visual you are working
on for the personal and social education working group.
respond to emails about students who are struggling.
talk to teachers about next steps with a kid, their class.
receive a thank you note from the student
who was a slow reader,
who you wrote a poem about a few weeks ago.
attend a meeting with the k-12 social committee
about end of the year gifts and celebrations.
it’s now five o’clock.
end the day asking questions on a panel
for the new principal hire.

wonder
if this is what they mean
when they ask
for experience
in leadership. 

a school is a universe

To walk the grounds of a school
with the bureaucracy pulled away
is to enter multiple universes.

Beyond reports and meetings
and trappings of frustration
children create and analyse art,
find ways to reveal meaning in their lives
through fiction,
pass a ball and learn to dodge opponents,
explore their way through processes and cycles,
unpack concepts, ask questions,
perform concrete and plays,
solve problems, equations, and disputes with friends.

To walk the grounds of a school
is to enter multiple universes.

I see a baby bird banging against a wall
near the fifth floor hallway.
I try to corral it
but it hops away from me
flapping it wings frantically
panting desperately.

It’s tiny beak
breathlessly
open.

Tired.
Exhausted.
Over burdened.
Distrustful.

It continues to hop away
as I approached.

I want to catch it,
cup it gently
in my palms and carry it down stairs.

Now it’s near the edge of a ledge.
I wonder if it can fly,
maybe I should just leave it alone?

I take one final step
it leaps,
floating down
five stories
like a leaf
with a heart.

A few flaps and it is on the ground.
hard to tell if it is better off,
or if I helped

a school
is a universe.

Old Friends and New

There’s a feeling that overtakes me every year after returning home from #learning2. Learning 2, for friends of mine not in the know, is a participant driven educational conference that began nine years ago. In its inception, the conference was guided heavily by the notion that technology can help revolutionize the way we teach and learn. The idea was to bring teachers from around the Asia region together and have them share discuss and teach each other what they know about how to make schools for the twenty first century.


Throughout the years some things have changed and many things have stayed the same, and one of things that has stayed the same is the feeling one has the first night home.


I have participated with this conference in several ways through the years. I have been a: participant, Teacher Workshop Presenter, L2Leader, Speaker, organizer, L2Talk Coach, Alec Couros Fanboy and a Madeleine insult punching bag, but regardless of my role every time I come home, there is a poignant sense of sadness and hope.


Sadness because it is over. The intensity of the conference often leaves me coated in an uncontrollable adrenaline high. As a part time extrovert, my mind is left racing days after the conversations have ended. Conversations during workshops, at mission control, at socials, dinners, hotel lobbies, after talks, before talks, on the bus. To be at an event like this, you are always on. Engaged. Thinking. Acting.


Even the downtime is filled with discussions about the power of Reggio spaces or the frustration that in 2016 some people still don’t know what a blog is.


This abrupt stop to the conference can be disorienting. Because just a few hours ago, you were spinning your wheels 1000RPM a second, and now, here you are at home, alone, in the silence wondering where everyone went.


And really it is the people that make this conference so amazing. It is like a tribe, a family that gets a few people bigger every year.


There will be a new L2Leader that really inspires you, or some person you have drinks with who could be your new best friend. An old acquaintance shifts to friend to mentor to idol. You might find yourself sitting on a street side bar having a Martini, smoking sheesha and chatting with someone you have known for a few years, but never really knew well, about your dads and what their role in your life has meant to you now being a dad. It is deep meaningful stuff. Or you might spark up a chat on the bus about the intuitive appeal of Zen on your daily life.


"I'm really glad we talked," is something that can often be heard as people shake hands or hug and part ways.


This year’s conference was very reflective for me. I led a strand that was different to what I have done in the past and it really made me think. I hope to write that post another night.


This post was just to keep the ride going for a little longer. I wanted to also publicly thank Kim and Madeleine and Brandon and the rest of the organizing team for always thinking of me and finding me a place in, and a method to, connect with this experience. I am proud and honored to be involved year in and year out. This year’s conference was a blur for me, but one that I hope to deconstruct and unpack in the coming weeks, so as to be able to use the parts to shift my practice.


Old friends and new, I miss you already.

Back At It

It’s 10:00pm and I am in Shanghai on the tail-end of my six hour layover. I’ve watched two movies, had coffee, juice, a muffin and some fruit. The Pudong airport is an embarrassment as large city airports go. There is nothing to do here. Nowhere to get a decent meal or a drink. The lighting is hard and fluorescent and there is a quiet dreary fog that lingers over everything and everyone. I am a short five hour flight from home and I’m already excited about landing in Singapore, heading home, taking a shower and starting my teaching day….on Tuesday. Wow. Tuesday already.


Too soon to predict what that is going to look like, but I’m sure it will be fine. It is crazy what our minds and bodies can do when we put them to the test. All this travel reminds me of the double shifts and night classes back in my college restaurant days. I would work twelve hour days and party and study and run my life like it didn’t have a purpose, but in the end, no matter how late I stayed up or how early I had to wake, I made it work, so this little jaunt across the Pacific will be no different. Sure I am twenty years older and the body handles abuse in different ways, but I will survive.


The difference these days, I guess, is that there is a purpose, or at least a direction. The school year has just begun and it is time to get back to it. I miss my own kids and the brief Skype chat earlier reminded me how vivacious and full of life they are. Looking forward to a skate session this week. Signing up for the half-marathon in December and finally getting back into my routine of running. It has been too long and my body is in for a rude reminder.


After a death and a celebration of life, we owe it to those who have passed to live even more fully. Take advantage of each day as it passes. No matter how cliche it might seem, we are here if for no other reason, than to enjoy life and live it with tenacity and purpose. Even though, I currently feel like a flat tire, I am looking forward to pumping myself up, after a few solid 10 hour sleep sessions, and moving forward to whatever uncertain future will have me.


I cannot post this update right now because I am in China and the Internet is blocked, but I’ll get it up on the webz before I head off to work in a few hours. The daily writing doesn’t stop because of air travel or blocked Internet.


The words are blurry and screen is bright The mood is low and the air filled with fatigued, but we are here and alive, breathing, so the show must go on.


Author's note- 6:07 am at home, getting ready for breakfast, showers and school. Here goes nothing.

First Day

That was a pretty good first day. Students seemed happy. Teachers weren’t too flustered and all in all, it couldn’t have gone much better. There were a few hiccups, but that is to be expected. It felt weird not to have my own mentor group and that quality time getting to know kids individually or as a group, but it was also pretty great to roam and problem solve and make sure that teachers had what they needed to have a good day. I ran an assembly that went okay and the day all went by pretty fast.


I might be getting addicted to striking things off To-Do lists. This is definitely a pretty big shift for me, but I can see the future and I think I like it.


As for our own kids, they had a good day. They were very excited about their friends and teachers and raring to go back tomorrow.


I love the feeling of a well spent summer followed by the buzz of being back at school. I know it is only the first Monday in August, but I am so happy and proud to work at our school. A big thank you to all my friends and co-workers for making UWCSEA the amazing place that it is. It is a pleasure to see you all everyday.


Gonna keep this short, because I passed up a free ticket to see Weezer tonight, because I had to do some actual lesson planning for the classes I will teach tomorrow, and I am loving this Krakauker book. I need some time to just get lost in the words, even though they are frustrating and anger inducing as all hell.

What A Girl Is

Everyone says that learning from mistakes is the best way to learn, but it can be frustrating as hell, especially when you look back at the mistake and it feels idiotic and so obvious. I guess the key is not to repeat the mistake you learn from. Today was a pretty mellow day of putting out my first tiny fire, with success I might add, and making sure that our team is ready for tomorrow. There are only so many times you can check and double check the details and I am pretty sure we are good to go.


Whether as a kid or a teacher, I have always loved the first day of school. And now as a parent there is an added level of excitement. It is such a time of hope and positive energy. Seeing old friends, meeting new teachers, we all set such lofty goals. There is a buzz in the air throughout the day, and it is a buzz that fuels me.


…


Didn’t get up to much today. Took the girls to basketball and apparently after Skye lost control of the ball while dribbling in a scrimmage, some little boy made a comment about how she’s not strong enough to play basketball. What the hell right? Where does this masculinity come from that is so determined to put down girls?


Kaia and Skye fell in love with this show on the Disney channel called Liv and Maddie this summer. It is cute and funny and sends a pretty good message. The other day there was an episode about how boys rate girls at school and the main characters creates a song telling boys that girls aren’t a “number” and that they don’t need the boys’ unsolicited advice. So after today’s incident Skye was able to make the connection with what that boy said and the lyrics from What a Girl Is:


“On a scale from 1 to 10, I am perfect like I am.
I don't need your number, we don't need your number.
And the stupid magazines, want me to change my everything.
It don't even matter, they're not taking my power.
I'm so over all of these voices around,
They've said enough it's my turn let's get loud.
I'll show you what a girl is, 'cause all of me is perfect.”


We were putting together some Lego and listening to the song and she said, “Next time, I will just tell the boy that I don’t need your opinion, thank you. Please just leave me alone.” #thatsmygirl


In somewhat related news, I am reading Jon Krakauer’s late about rape culture on college campuses and Mairin and I decided that the girls need to go to an all girls' school. My god! What a world women need to navigate. Good thing Skye is starting early by taking control of her body.


…


After some work at school, basketball practice, and making Lego, we headed out to a quick dinner at Brewerkz and the girls were asleep by 7:30. Now it is time to relax a bit before the big day.


I was talking to my mom today about all the weird mojo in my universe right now and the pain and suffering so many people around me are experiencing and she said, “It can be hard to face, but this is it. This is life. No one says it is easy, but we live it and try to make our way as best we can. Have a good conversation with yourself and ground yourself so you can move on.”

Work Mode

Okay that was exhausting. Spent my first full day back in Singapore getting things done-

A quick catch up with Keri-Lee

Turned my classroom from disaster zone into I-could-teach-tomorrow-if-I-had-to zone

Dinner at Alt Pizza

Suicide trip to Ikea on a Friday night for some classroom things. I got some lamps and a new easel. Next stop plant store for some trees. Then get the paper/fabric on the walls, and some visuals (what was I thinking? Still a ways to go. But I made a good dent for day one.)

And now, although I am claiming that I have beat jet lag once again, I am dying for sleep. Looking forward to another 9+ hour night.

It was great to see Scott, Ian, Duff, Miles and Paula at school today and start getting myself back into school mode. Although it all feels pretty overwhelming right now- new room, new grade level, new units and a new role…I am sure it will all work out. Excited to be in front of kids again doing what we do.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz……zzzz…..zzzz….zzz….zz….z….

Open The Sky

I’ve decided to move my Monday/Wednesday runs to Tuesday/Thursday. Exciting news right? I know you were dying for this information so you could carry on with your week. The change of the schedule was not the point of this introduction. The following scene in the kitchen around 6:00pm which was made possible by this timetable shift.


Start scene:


A father and daughter excitedly unpack the necessary ingredients to make dinner- frozen soy nuggets, pasta with tomato sauce, broccoli, and red pepper. The girl chooses the first song and in a effort to please the dad starts with Michael Jackson’s 1990’s classic Do you Remember.


Daughter- You like this song right? See. I used my song choice for you.


Father- Great choice.


He turns it up and there is a vibrant festive mood in the kitchen. It doesn’t feel like a routine tired Monday night. They are alone together and happy to be working on a shared task. The girl lights the stove and starts the water boiling. The father cuts up the broccoli and red peppers.


There is dancing. Alone and together.


The father thinks about how he should cook more often with her. Next she plays a One Direction song and as he watches her dance about the kitchen, the father is saddened and excited to see her so grown up. He remembers her as a baby and the nights he held her in her room listening to Jack Johnson sing Ben Harper songs. He remembers the overwhelming sense of joy she emanated as a baby when he smelled her hair and kissed her gently in the darkness. How her presence changed his life forever and allowed him to finally let go of so much anger and pain and just be himself. He owes the person he is to the person she has always been. And now, in this kitchen she looks like a young women. A tween. A teen. A confident queen.


She does this weird Spanish dance with eyes low and fingers snapping imaginary castanets.


Father- Where did you learn that dance?


Daughter- I don’t know. It just felt right.


She smiles coyly and the father realizes that this phase in her childhood is rapidly changing. She is still his little girl, but he realizes that he needs to talk with her more and spend time exploring ideas with her and less time hyper-parenting and setting up boundaries. They listen to The Who and Kelly Clarkson. Singing out loud…Since you’ve been gone and teenage wasteland.


Parenting is about creating a childhood the adult version of your children want to revisit. It is about planting experiences that will blossom into memories. Sometimes, the simplest seeds, like making dinner with music and dancing, will grow into the mightiest trees.


…


Marin bought the girls some plain notebooks today and Skye turned hers into a book of poems. She said that they are learning about poetry in school and she is ready to be a poet. Another big thank you Gillian. After scrawling the word powems on the cover, she proceeded to crank out a few quick rhymes: Skunk on Trunk. Dog on a Log. Cat on A Bat. I’m a Flower Look At Me and Ice Cream Ice Cream, Quick Quick. She spent the next few minutes reading her verse to her dolls.


It was a thing of beauty. A moment of poetry.


…


Getting back in the swing of things at school was not easy today. My body and mind are still floating under the sun in Tioman. I wish there was a way we could teach in the wilderness all year and come back to campus once a year to…..well, I don’t know what we would do, but I wish we could teach kids in nature more often than we do.


There are so many things that need to get done in the next few weeks (22 school days) but I am pretending that it will all happen without too much anxiety and stress on my part. I know that I should start to panic and get things done, starting tonight. But it is Monday, I just got back from a trip and Game of Thrones is not going to watch itself. So tonight will not be the night I start my mentor comments or give some feedback on a formative assessment I sent out last week. It will happen this week, it has to, probably tomorrow night, but tonight is begging for a slow transition from island life.


…


Played a lot of guitar after school today. Working up a batch of songs I will be playing in a few weeks. I’ll be opening for Scott Macdonald at the Little Island Brewing Company. Details forthcoming and needless to say I am a bit nervous. I haven’t performed in a while and there is a chance there could be a decent crowd from school. I am excited about this batch of tunes. Eclectic and diverse for sure and they feel good to play.


I’m reading some books about The Big Lebowski given to me by Katie Day and they are keeping my attention, but I am on the hunt for some “rock-my-world” fiction for the summer. Any suggestions would be welcome. I cannot wait for the Joshua Mohr memoir. Anything else out there that I should get my hands on?


…


electricity
tore open the sky tonight.
everything’s a buzz

School Are Amazing Places

“Practice kindness all day to everybody and you will realize you’re already in heaven now.”
Jack Kerouac


School are amazing places. You wanna know why? Because they are filled with kids. And people who love kids and want to give them awe-inspiring experiences. Schools are places where teachers create rock shows and magazine launches. Schools are places where kids can be athletes and scientists. Schools can be places where kids are challenged to question and research and explore and wonder. Schools are places where kids dance and plant trees and hike and run meetings. Schools are places where kids build friendships, identies and 3-D printed design projects.


It’s where they write poetry, solve equations and fall in love for the first time. School is where kids find themselves one year, only to lose themselves a year later. School is where kids find confidence and take risks. It is where they test out their jokes and command a stage for the first time. A school is a place where they can leave the orbit of their parents for a few hours a day and see which other galaxies they might find themselves in. Schools are places where kids skin their knees, break their bones and learn to get back up. It’s the place where kids have to learn to fight back or to resolve conflicts between friends. Schools are where kids learn how to socialise around a meal or to eat alone. Schools are places where kids shred a guitar solo or forget the lyrics of the third verse. Schools are places where kids roam the halls looking for friends. It’s where they stand up to bullies, learn to talk to adults to demand their rights. Schools teach kids how to be activists, citizens and free-thinkers.


Schools are the most beautiful and important places in our societies. I am here tonight to challenge the narrative that schools are broken.


I am tired of constantly starting every conversation about how schools are places in need of drastic change, disruption or re-imagining.


(Before I continue, I want to acknowledge that I realise that I am blessed to work in a well-resourced school. I work at a top internationals school, where we are wanting for little. I want to be sensitive to people who might be reading this post who work in schools that are structurally damaged and morale vacant buildings. I have worked in such schools and I know it is hard to do your job in such environments.)


But even in such places, I refuse to continue to start every conversation about school that highlights the conceptual idea of school as a place of deficit. I’ve heard all the complaints. Hell, I have lobbed many of them myself: The curriculum is too intense, too much content, too many skills, too many tests, not student-driven enough, not enough tech, too much tech.


When we spread the narrative that schools are inherently broken we discredit and disrespect the two most important things that make-up schools: Kids and teachers.


I have spent the majority of my life in schools. And for all their faults, I still think they are amazing places. I still remember the rainy day afternoons in Mozambique waiting for the rain to stop so we could carry on because the floor had flooded for lack of windows. The fact that kids didn’t have shoes or books or pencils didn’t bother us none. The fact that I barely knew what I was doing didn’t seem to matter either. We were looking at the lyrics of Africa Unite by Bob Marley as a way to learn English. We laughed and smiled and built something unnameable. It was fueled by wonder and love.


All you need to run a school are kids and teachers who love kids and want to create awe-inspiring experiences for everyone on campus.


Tonight I was at Sound Asylum which is or annual MS rock show run by the music department ( Lee, Lindsey and Evind) in a constant state of goose-pimpled skin. I watched two hours of talented kids be rock stars. The team created an opportunity for these kids to stand on stage behind the lights and the smoke and in front of their peers and live out a dream. This is what a school is all about. Everything else is administration and bureaucracy.


It is not fair to kids if their teachers are constantly focused on looking at the problems of their school. We owe them more. Take a look at your school and ask yourself how you can create opportunities born from your love and passion- opportunities for your students to be inspired. If your curriculum has you down, or if you are buried under mandates of which you have no control, find other ways to build a culture of wonder in your school. A poetry reading, a basket ball league, a hands on science club, a coding team, a rock show, a magazine launch, a place to knit, plant a garden.


We don’t always need to focus on how to re-build our schools. Let’s change the conversations and focus on the fact that schools are by default great places because they are filled with kids. Everything else must grow from that understanding.

Cranberries and The Bell Jar

I had so much today, as I skimmed the film that is my life as I was living it. Constructing little snippets of thoughts and ideas, feelings and questions, out of words and phrases in my head. Wow, that was a difficult sentence to punctuate and it is clear that I punctuated it poorly. But we don’t have time for that. I need to scrape together some of the highlights from the day:

Started off with a great assembly by visiting author Sarah J. Maas. Oh, I can’t do this….too much happened today and I haven’t the energy to explore the meaning or significance of any of it.

We ran two grade seven events which featured students and included primary school kids, administrators, coaches and other members of our school community. It went well. Kids did a great job, and we were all duly impressed with their commitment and dedication to their learning. Yay team. In between those two periods, I ran our Daraja GC meeting as we prepared for the upcoming Family Festival. It was busy and hectic and chaotic, but thankfully productive.

I had so many insightful things that I was going to write about tonight- the various events and the conversations I had with my students and my team and the epiphanies I had at each turn, but at the end of the day, as I sit here too tired to gather my thoughts, I will just say that good things happened in the lives of the people I work with everyday. It was a winning day for our students, our department and our school. I am proud of the work we did. I love that I feel pride in the work that I do. It is so important. 

…

Made up for missing my run yesterday. Cranked out a pretty easy 8km. Felt good to just have shoes on the ground and let my thoughts spill out. Made an effort not to be obsessed with my time and not worry too much about pace or distance. I just enjoyed the breeze and stared at the clouds and put down one foot after the other.

I thought about my novel while running. I decided that one of my characters, who is a grade eight girl wants to be a bit of a feminist and her entry point into this world is through Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar. I have not ever read this book, but it is next on my list. The character will use what I find in this book as a tool to educate the protagonist on what it means for her to be a feminist.

I figure if the book is good and useful, then the ideas she has will be well-informed and the advice that she gives will be sound, but if the book is not useful then I will warp her views and the advice she gives might be circumspect. Either way I have decided that I will need to read The Bell Jar because my character needs to have read the book.

I love the fact that I am thinking about what books my characters need to read so I can shape their world views based on what I find in the books myself. I need to look through these texts with the eye of a middle school student, as these are my main characters, and see if I can shape the world they inhabit through these lenses.

…

I am falling in love with dried cranberries and I had Ramen for dinner. It has been a long time since I’ve enjoyed the rich salty MSG goodness of Ramen. I slurped it up as I watched some John Oliver and Samantha Be clips on Youtube as they made fun of the GOP. Which lets face it, doesn’t take much work these days.

Tomorrow is Friday and I am off to watch some professional wrestling with the boys. Can Not Wait.

Precious Spots

The rain started as soon as we were ready to begin. The small room off the hotel courtyard turned dark and uninviting, but everyone agreed that the rain was a good omen. I was sitting with the administrative staff of Daraja about to start a round of student section interviews. There were thirteen girls and their families waiting to be interviewed for a chance to change their lives.

It felt daunting to be part of such a process. I felt honoured and humbled to be present, but also a bit guilty. What gave me the right to choose who gets in and who has to find another way to build a future.

The girls were fourteen most of them and they were all scared and nervous. But they reacted to this fear in different ways. One was painful shy and quiet, her voice inaudible over the sound of the rain. I knew from talking with Jason that a “Daraja” girl showed confidence and signs of leadership before she even walked onto the campus. This girl, we all knew from the opening few moments didn’t have much of a chance. How could she when there were hundreds, thousands of girls through Kenya vying for the few precious spots.

The next one was loud and full of smiles, but broke down in tears when she spoke of her father leaving the family and how her mother could only find “casual” work digging on other people’s farms. When asked what it means to be a leader she said, “A leader serves other people and allows them to be the people they are meant to be.” I liked her a lot, but there would still need to be stiff conversation about what she was more deserving than the other eleven girls waiting outside.

I thought a lot of the cycle of poverty and the state of the “developing” world. I thought about how a man could have a family and abandon them to fend for themselves in a society he knew does not value women. I thought about how angry I often am at injustice, but also at my own hypocritical self-righteousness. Who am I to judge these men? What do I knew of their own fears and damage?

I was due back at Daraja to meet up with my students, so I left the rest of the interviews for the rest of the team.

…

So bummed I had two more entries on this post, but they didn't get saved and the document I was working on shut down.

We are off to Safari, so the next entry may be delayed.