Mr. Hutchings, What's a Metropolis Noir?

When I need to process significant events in my life, I write. Yesterday, my family attended a Tragically Hip concert in Edmonton. I need to write about it, and here's why.

I first heard The Tragically Hip on an Edmonton radio station in 1990. After my first half year at the U of A, I was working at a toy factory, assembling educational toys. My coworkers were hard working, interesting people. For most of the day, I worked beside a fellow named Dieter, who smoked a lot of weed and loved music. When 38 Years Old finished playing, he looked at me and said simply, "That is a f***ing poignant song." He was rough around the edges and I'm certain that Dieter regretted many of his life choices, but he knew his music.

I couldn't help but agree with him. The fictional tale of a real-life event struck a chord with me. That fall, I hoped to attend the Hip's show at Dinwoodie Lounge, but it didn't pan out. When I learned that they would be playing Edmonton's Convention Center in the summer of 1991, I knew they were a band I had to see live. Last night, I saw them in person for the last time and I'm filled with emotion. I hope this blog helps me figure out why the news of Gord Downie's cancer and the Hip's farewell tour has hit me so hard.

The Hip are to music as hockey is to sport. You need to be Canadian to completely "get" them. In one of my older blogs, Great Canadian Gordons I wrote

Their music is laced with references to Canadian culture. Hockey themes abound, most notably "Fireworks" celebration of the 1972 Summit Series, the disappearance of Toronto Maple Leafs defenceman Bill Barilko in "Fifty Mission Cap" and a dirge about being a goaltender in "The Lonely End of the Rink". Their lyrics celebrate notable Canadians like Bobby Orr, Pierre Trudeau and David Milgaard. Distinctly Canadian terms like toonie, CBC, prime minister and the "crown" pepper their lyrics. Even Donald S. Cherry makes an appearance as a chicken delivery man in the video for "The Darkest One".

The Hip's songs tend to mention Canadian places. Niagara Falls, Bobcaygeon, Toronton, Kingston, Cape Spear, Clayoquot Sound, Sault Ste Marie, Northumberland Strait, Churchill, Thompson, Lake Memphragog, Isle Aux Morts. I'm not completely sure, but I have a feeling that "The Paris of the Prairies" mentioned in "Wheat Kings" may be Saskatoon. I am certain that many essays and perhaps Master's theses have been written about the Hip's connection to Canada through music. Beyond the stage, Downie and the band have had cameos in uniquely Canadian television shows like Corner Gas and Trailer Park Boys.

For me, though, the quintessential Gordon Downie moment is the role he plays in Michael McGowan's film, One Week. The film is profoundly Canadian as it follows its protagonist, who has terminal cancer, on a motorcycle pilgrimage from Toronto to Tofino. Downie has a brief role as a man who meets the doomed Tyler and shares his experience of battling cancer. When I think of Canadian icons, people who have helped develop my generation's Canadian identity, I think of people like Terry Fox and Rick Hansen. When it comes to people who reaffirmed my love of all things Canadian, I cannot think of a more iconic figure than Gordon Downie.

On a personal level, Downie's illness hits me hard. Like most of us, I've lost loved ones to cancer. Like Gordon Downie, I'm a father. The Hip have been a huge part of most of my adult life. It makes me incredibly sad to know that I've seen them live in concert for the last time. Fortunately, I got to enjoy yesterday's show with the people I love the most - my wife and two sons. I hope that a small part of my passion for The Hip lives on in my boys. To quote Don't Wake Daddy, 

We teach our children some fashion sense/And they fashion some of their own

The title of this post is a reference to a line from Greasy Jungle, and an unforgettable question a student asked me. As a beginning teacher, I used the Hip in class whenever possible. From trying to interpret New Orleans is Sinking in English to Drama tableau projects with 38 Years Old as the soundtrack to Wheat Kings in Social Studies, my love for the Hip extended to my students. For a few years, my home room was the Drama room and you could usually hear The Tragically Hip playing on the CD player. One day after school, a student asked me what "metropolis noir" meant. I've never forgotten the question, and I clearly remember seeing Ryan at Tragically Hip concerts years later. It makes me smile to know that a few of my students latched on to the important lessons I hoped they would find in The Hip's music.

When I really think about it, I'm sad for Gord, his family, and his closest friends. Last night's concert and the band's reaction since his illness went public demonstrates the depth of the band's friendship. And that, I think, is the root of my deep emotional connection to the Tragically Hip, their music, and their live shows.

I have so many incredible memories of seeing this band play. My first Hip show was July 26, 1991 at the Edmonton Convention Centre. Since then, I've seen them at Clark Stadium, Edmonton Agricom, Camrose, Northlands Coliseum, Edmonton Jubilee, the Centrium, Saddledome, and The Whiskey in Calgary. When I think back to each show, I definitely remember the overall event and how watching them play filled me with joy. I remember a few specific Gord Downie rants and moves. I've evolved personally. In the early years, pre-Hip warm up meant a lot of beer. The last time I saw them in Red Deer, we had third row seats. Instead of planning the pre and post-concert party, I had to think carefully about wearing good shoes because I would be standing for the whole show.

More than anything, though, I remember the people I attended the shows with, listened to CD's, and discussed their music with. Brad, Brenn, Brian, Dave, Deneen, Grant, Ian, Jeff, Jeremy, Jim, Kevin, Pete, Rochelle, Ryan, Sandra, Sharon, Steve, Todd, Wayne...the list goes on.

My wife has been with me the most. She is the first to admit that she didn't really appreciate the Hip until she saw them live. Every time I hear It's a Good Life If You Don't Weaken, I think of her and the first time we heard it live. My best friend, Jeremy, has been with me for many shows. Last night, we talked before the show and fired Hip lines back and forth throughout. Jeremy was with me for the 1991 Convention Center show, so memorable, fuelled by lots of beer and a few unexpected complimentary drinks. We've seen them in Red Deer, Edmonton, Calgary and Camrose. Like my friends Dave and Wayne, we can trade Hip quotes for hours. And here's the great thing about the Tragically Hip. I guarantee that there are thousands of Canadians who have a story just like mine.

Last night, my emotions were unbridled, and I was not alone. My final Hip show was full of shouting, clapping, dancing, and singing out loud without a care in the world. My good friend Brian is hosting a back yard Hip party on August 20 when the CBC broadcasts their final show from Kingston.

I can't wait, but I don't want it to end. To close, I will borrow the opening line from Live Between Us.

Thank you. We are all richer for having seen you.

For the Love of Joe

I've thought about how to start this a few times, and not many of them seemed to hit the mark. It's been a long time since I have written anything here, and peeking through some of my own posts reminded me exactly why I needed to write this. You see, the world lost a beauty today, and the most fitting way for me to reminisce about Joe Bower is to write a blog.

Joe's blog, For the Love of Learning, is incredibly influential. His popularity on Twitter and as a speaker about redesigning education is undeniable. The tributes Joe has received on social media since he suffered a massive heart attack speak volumes about his prominence. His understanding of how to harness emerging media to spread his ideas was absolutely cutting edge. I was always impressed and astounded by the reaction he elicited from people, particularly people who only knew him online.

I first met Joe Bower when he was 19 years old. Many people his age would have just graduated from high school, perhaps taken a year off to find themselves, and just dipping their toes into post-secondary school. Not Joe. He was already in his third year of his BEd, accepted into a highly competitive Middle Years Program at Red Deer College. Joe came to my school for his four week practicum and student taught with a good friend and colleague. From the outset, it was clear that Joe knew who he was and what he wanted to be. He loved teaching and sincerely wanted to be the best teacher possible.

Part of Joe's passion stemmed from his own experience as a student. When I found out that a good friend of mine taught Joe in high school, I casually mentioned it. Joe's reaction was typical. He didn't care about my relationship with this teacher outside of school. To Joe, this person was not a good teacher and he didn't care what a nice person he was. Joe always told you what he thought and you never had to guess where you stood. Joe would tell you, in no uncertain terms. One of my former students, now a school administrator, said "what a lot of people don't know is that Joe's brutal honesty is just an invitation to be honest ourselves." So true, Everett, so true.

As a student teacher, Joe jumped right in to the life of our school. In those days, we had a lot of younger staff who had not yet started families. The end of a work week often required a serious debriefing at a local establishment or someone's home. We played as hard as we worked, and Joe was always eager to be part of the fun. Joe started joining our Wednesday night teacher hockey during those years. Even better, Joe loved to play goal and he quickly became a mainstay of our group. Oddly enough, part of the teacher hockey ritual included rehydration at a local pub, and Joe lost a lot of sweat during our late night shinny sessions. Once Joe graduated and started teaching, he continued playing goal with us, despite the good-natured ribbing that comes with being a goaltender. At times, Joe would forget his long underwear and have to his big black protective cup with nothing underneath. He could have auditioned for the Showcase series Kink and received a role!

Another great memory I have of Joe is through skiing, or more specifically, snowblading. As a student teacher, he jumped right in to supervising the weekly ski club. Even though he started teaching at a different middle school, our ski clubs often booked the same nights at our local ski area, Canyon. Joe grew up next door to Canyon and he was a machine on the slopes. It was Joe who first introduced me to snowblading, a guilty pleasure I wrote about in a previous post (Confessions of a Shortboarder). Riding a chairlift with someone you know means you have 10 minutes to just talk. These 10 minute visits allowed me to really learn who Joe was. Our visits at Canyon evolved into an annual ski trip at Teacher's Convention that we called "Weekend at Fernie's".

The details of these ski trips should remain in the memories of those who participated, even though the details might be a bit foggy. We had a solid crew of participants and Joe was always front and center. He loved to ski, he loved to talk, and he loved to have a great time. He never missed a trip and some of my absolute favorite memories involve trips to and from the mountains with Joe. In another post (The Millennium Falcon), I reminisced about these trips. Joe was definitely one of the many hairy creatures my Falcon transported.

It was during these times that I learned exactly what a complex and admirable man Joe really was. He loved teaching, he loved sports, he loved life, and he loved Tamara. From the time I knew Joe, he knew that Tamara was going to be his wife. She understood, admired, and tolerated him. His love for her was resolute. I was honored to attend their wedding and watch them as they started a family.

As we grew older and busier, I didn't have as many chances to visit with Joe, though we still crossed paths regularly. One of Joe's first speaking engagements came when I ran the ATA Middle Years Conference in 2007. When I taught in the Middle Years Program at RDC, I invited Joe to my class to share some of the things he was doing in his classroom. Joe's early presentations were passionate, profane, and always elicited a strong reaction. I always admired Joe's willingness to swim against the mainstream to support what he truly believed in. It may not have made him popular with his employer, but that is the beauty of who Joe was. Joe could be incredibly abrasive, particularly if you didn't know him well.

My last conversation with Joe Bower fits the mold of my entire relationship with him. We were playing in a memorial hockey tournament last September. Joe played for an opposing team, but we found time for a drink and a chat in the parking lot, between games. Instead of a political or educational discussion, we talked about our families and baseball. We reminisced about a time he "slept over" in my basement following a Wednesday teacher hockey session, and we realized that 14 years had passed since that night. In those fourteen years, our families had grown. Joe had written a book and was the author of a hugely influential blog. I left Red Deer to become principal of a K-12 school similar to the one Joe attended as a student. Fundamentally, though, nothing had changed.

Joe would still literally give the shirt off his back to help a friend. He still believed passionately that our education system could be so much better than it currently is. He loved sports and having a good time with his friends. He wanted a better world for his children and family, who were the center of everything he did. As I said earlier, the world lost a beauty today. I know you can't comment on this blog, Joe, but I do hope you know how much I think of you.

Confession: Looking Back to Look Forward

This May, at the age of 42, I experienced a classic "loss of innocence." I remember learning about this motif in grade 10 English and relating it to first encounters with love, alcohol, loss and sexuality. I never imagined that I would relate it to my professional life.

I worked for Red Deer Public Schools for twenty years - eight as a classroom teacher, twelve as a vice principal. I worked in elementary schools and middle schools that serve a diverse cross-section of our community. Two years ago, I made a conscious decision to prepare myself to become a principal and lead my own school. Opportunities were scarce in our jurisdiction, so I decided to actively pursue this goal and let people know how interested I was in this goal.

For twenty years, I worked hard for Red Deer Public Schools. By working hard, I mean teaching, coaching, clubs, field trips, drama productions, organizing tournaments, working on conference and convention committees, supervising school events, planning school wide activities, fielding phone calls from people (including trustees phoning on behalf of their children) who need to get into the building, driving the bus, cleaning the bus, maintaining the bus, planning school retreats, planning admin retreats, organizing professional development for teachers and administrators, chairing committees, attending school board meetings, to name a few things.

I do what I do because I love it. I know that the students, parents, and staff I have worked with appreciate what I have done. I have boxes of cards, drawings, notes and gifts from people who have shown their appreciation. I call it my "Attaboy" collection and I keep it in my office for the days when I start to lose sight of the good that comes from being an educator. I hold these things close to my heart and will always do so.

It has been six months since I decided to pursue opportunities outside of Red Deer. It is no secret that I was pissed off about leaving. I was unsuccessful in a competition for a principal position and I really struggled with how things turned out. I applied and interviewed for a position at a dual track french immersion elementary school. I felt very prepared for my interview. I spent hours gathering my thoughts, talking to colleagues, and getting myself ready to convince everyone in my interview that I was the best choice for the position - principal of a K-5 dual track french immersion school in north Red Deer. I finished my interview and felt like I had communicated enough about my beliefs and demonstrated my passion for what I do.

The successful candidate was given a position in a K-8 school - a position completely different from the one we applied and interviewed for. It was frustrating for me because my entire background as a teacher and administrator is at the K-8 level. Earlier in the school year, I lost another competition for a district administrator position. In both of these competitions, I believed I was the best candidate for the position. I understand that there is a bigger picture and I concede that I did not deliver my best performance at the interview. Ultimately, however, the cumulative effect left me disillusioned with the school district I had given everything to for twenty years. In a word, I was heartbroken.

It took my a long time to get my bearings and I am thankful that members of our senior admin came to provide me feedback about my interview and the process in general. However, the more I thought about it, the more I was confused. My experience and background would have served me well in the position they filled. According to the feedback I received, I was well prepared for the interview and I provided thoughtful answers. Somehow, though, I was unable to communicate who I really am and what I bring to a school.

The students, parents, and staff in the schools I worked at knew me. They knew I would be a capable principal. They were shocked when I didn't get the position. 

I could say that I was not bitter about leaving Red Deer. I could say that I understood the decisions. I could say these things, but I would be lying. I received a great deal of supportive feedback from my colleagues. It was equally humbling, gratifying and aggravating that the people I worked with and knew me best could not believe I was passed over for a position I was ready to take.

Fortunately, opportunity has an odd way of unveiling itself. In my case, when one door closed, another swung wide open. A K-12 school in an adjacent school division needed a principal. The school was located in a community that is a short drive from my home and I decided to pursue this opportunity. As most of you already know, I was successful in this competition.

I have been given an amazing opportunity. The work I get to do in Delburne is markedly different that the work I would have done anywhere in Red Deer Public. We have fantastic students and the school is at the heart of the community. It is a beautiful facility. Our staff are proud, committed to the school, and dedicated to providing the best possible opportunities for our students. Had I remained in Red Deer, I would not have considered working in a high school. Today, I get to teach high school Biology. I left university with aspirations to be a high school teacher and I have finally realized my dream.

Working in a rural community is equally demanding and rewarding. I am consulted about community decisions and agencies on a regular basis. It is not unusual to have the mayor or village CAO in the school. People who attended school in Delburne are deservedly proud of their roots. I feel very good about the work I have done so far and I look forward to solidifying my position in the community. I have received very positive feedback from students, staff and parents so far. I am optimistic and excited about the direction we are headed.

For the people who really know who I am and the way I approach the work I do, I don't think it will come as a surprise...

Leavin'

Ain't no time for worrying
Gotta go
Move on
Got that getaway feeling
I'm leavin'

 ~ Paul Brandt

In May, 2006, I was called into the office at Glendale Middle School and informed that I would be leaving. My destination was Grandview Elementary School, the school where my eldest son Connor was attending Kindergarten. I was coming off a difficult year of soul searching. I sincerely enjoyed my time at Glendale, but there were a lot of things that made me look elsewhere. I was restless and ambitious, but I was not really ready to assume any great responsibility at a school level. My first five years of school administration strained my ability to focus on my family and I felt quite compromised. There were many things I wanted to accomplish at Glendale, but I felt like my family suffered because of my obligations at school. It pissed me off to miss hockey practices or skating lessons. My boys spent lots of time at school with me, which was fine, but it was also time we could have spent in a playground or in a park. I pursued a couple of principal positions during that vear. I was driven in part by ambition and in part by the memory of my failed hockey career. I became a Vice Principal at a young age, just as I entered the Western Hockey League at a young age. My untimely exit from hockey was fresh in my mind and I did not want to let opportunities pass me by. In the end, I was interviewed for two principal positions, offered one, and decided to pass it up because it would have forced my family to move a long distance from Red Deer.

My transfer to Grandview was proof to me that things happen for a reason. I have very special memories of my experiences at all of my schools. However, the past seven years at Grandview fill my heart like no other professional experience to date. I have written a lot about how much this school means to me. It chokes me up whenever I talk about it.

Grandview was a great place for my children. Without exception, they had amazing teachers. My boys grew up in full view and I cannot understate how much I value the opportunity to have front row seats. I was there for assemblies, concerts, field trips, and all of the special events I would have missed had I worked at another school. Moreover, I had the opportunity to actively shape their experiences by pushing for a climbing wall, booking guest instructors, arranging field trips, and planning many keynote events in Grandview's school year. There is no doubt that I had a vested interest in making Grandview the best possible place for my own children. However, a school needs to be a great place for all children. It should not matter whether a parent is an employee of the school district, a family that lives directly across the street, someone who recently immigrated to Canada, a family that lives in our catchment area or a family that will only be with us for a matter of days because their lives are in crisis. The diversity of the students who attend our school make it special.

Grandview is full of incredible people - staff, students, and parents. This is the part I cannot write without tears. These are tears of fierce pride, intense gratitude, and sincere love. I got my first introduction to the "Grandview Way" from Jean Cobb, who loved her kids first and foremost. When Jean did something, she did it with pure passion and genuine love for the students who attended her school. Early on, when we were asked to "go with the flow" and make a significant change to our school day, the eminently wise Kevin Shilling nodded his head and made a simple comment. "C'est la vie a Grandview"... Throughout their school career, my kids had nothing but the best teaching possible. Danece Workman, Gail Schmitt, Shirley Brault, Carol Johnson, Kelly Martinez, Maria Tisdale, Shauna Kadar, Lynn Gwartney, Carrie Tobler, Sue Mueller, Sandra Morton, Kevin Shilling. The list of amazing teachers my kids did not have is just as long. The list of amazing support staff matches the length of both lists. That, in my mind, is a true testament to the quality of adults who spend their days in our building.

Make no mistake. At Grandview, we work hard and we play hard. A few years ago, my friend Monte Selby came to spend a week in our school to write music with our students. One of the songs, Fun, says "We have fun here at Grandview/We have fun every day". That fun can be found in the classrooms, the hallways, the playgrounds, even the office. Our teachers love what they do, our kids love coming to school, and we fuel one another. I never miss dressing up for a spirit day, from cowboy to mad scientist to superhero to wearing full hockey gear (including my skates) for a day. Our staff also plays hard after hours. Staff retreats, hockey drafts, conferences, post-interview debriefs, progressive suppers, scavenger hunts, camping trips. We don't party every Friday like I did before I had kids, but when we decide to let go, it is a ton of fun.

Grandview is at the heart of our community. The playground, soccer fields, baseball diamond and outdoor skating rink are well-used after hours. The Red Deer Fencing Club uses our gymnasium every weeknight through the winter. Red Deer Pond Hockey teams hold practices and tournaments on the outdoor rink. Each winter, the school plays host to the Red Deer Rebels Enmax Pond Hockey program. My favourite evening of the year, however, is our family BBQ and outdoor movie night. Each year, families from the school (past and present) converge on the school grounds to eat, visit, and watch a movie on a gigantic outdoor screen. It is an evening that reminds me of the barn dances and church picnics of my youth and I am incredibly sad that this year's event was my last.

My time at Grandview has not been all sunshine and roses. For every difficult parent, there are 99 amazing parents at our school. I will not deny that I worked with some families that were completely dysfunctional and messed up. Overall, though, these types of people are not the norm. The norm is parents who volunteer for field trips, participate in fundraisers, sign agendas, attend school functions and want the best for their kids. It is a regular occurrence for people to walk into the building and say, "I've heard this is a great school. I want my kids to come here."

There have been some incredibly "interesting" events over the past seven years. Parents who have undergone sex changes so a child refers to their parents as "Mom" and "Mom Mom". Folks from all parts of the world who have no idea what we are talking about. One year, I returned from spring break and noticed that my office had an extremely bad odour. I searched the bookshelves and work desk for leftover food or milk that one of my "lunchtime guests" might have left behind, to no avail. I purchased a Vanillaroma stinky tree to try and cover the odour, with minimal success. One day, as I was searching my shelves, I found the source. At Christmas, one of our more interesting parents had given me a box of home made rum balls as a gift. Not trusting the source, I left the rum balls on a shelf and forgot about them, until I discovered that they had indeed gone bad. Another day, I had to restrain and physically remove a student from the playground to the "thinking spot" in our office. I had to quickly push the door closed to prevent them from bolting around me when I realized that I did not have my keys with me. The student stared a hole through me and bellowed, "LET ME OUT!" I replied, in an tone with equivalent volume and rage, "I CAN"T!" At the time, the door locked from the outside and I was indeed stuck in this room with an out-of control child. My response seemed to stun the youngster, who then asked (in a sincerely puzzled tone), "Really?" I then explained that no one was coming to open the door until I asked them to. The absurdity of our situation defused the conflict completely. "Really? You are the vice principal and you're locked in here with me? That's funny."

When I really reflect on my seven years at Grandview, it fills me with pride. I had the good fortune to work with amazing people - teachers, educational assistants, secretaries, caretakers, counsellors, maintenance staff, IT support, student teachers, community volunteers, guest artists and instructors, and central office staff. I worked three very different, yet equally impressive principals. I met hundreds of children and their families. I made lifelong friends and I watched my children forge powerful friendships. I can look around the school and see my fingerprints all over it. In the end, though, my career as an educator is a book and my years at Grandview have been seven of my favourite chapters.

I entered this school year knowing it would likely be my final year at Grandview. I was hoping to move into a Principalship in Red Deer Public, and when that did not happen, I decided to widen my view. Now, I am reminded of the lone traveler in Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken. I have decided to take a different path than most. I'm leaving behind twenty years of experience in a school district to start fresh with an amazing opportunity in a completely new community. I was hurt, disillusioned and frustrated when I was passed over for a position in Red Deer Public. Now, the excitement I felt when I first entered school administration has returned and I feel very confident about moving forward. Like the character in Frost's poem, I won't know whether this is the right decision for a while. At the moment, it feels right and it makes sense.

I’d rather live my whole life with a sense of abandonSqueeze every drop out, no matter what happensAnd not wonder what I've missedI’d rather risk ~Paul Brandt

Parting Words

After 20 years working for Red Deer Public Schools, I want to take a moment to recognize the colleagues in administration who have left the biggest impact on me.

Every Conversation Is Important - Barrie Wilson
Barrie was my first principal and to this day, he is one of my biggest heroes in education. In my books, he ranks with John Dewey, Howard Gardner and Elliot Eisner. He is an amazing, energetic, inspiring man. The biggest lesson I learned from Barrie was the importance of taking time to speak with (and listen to) people. Barrie would always ask me about my life away from the school. Even more important, he remembered what  we talked about and followed up on it. As a beginning teacher, I spent many hours in the school on the weekend and it seemed that Barrie was usually there. He ALWAYS took time to have a quick conversation about what was going on in my life. Today, I know how important it is to acknowledge the people I spend my day with. I'm no Barrie, but I can always aspire to be like him.

Passion is Power - Jerry Simonsen
Jerry was my second principal at Eastview Middle School. He is also the man I can blame and thank for pushing me to become an administrator. Like Barrie Wilson and so many of the people who coached me, Jerry believed in me. Jerry is incredibly passionate about many things - athletics, fishing, fitness, underdogs and students who fall through the cracks in the system. When Jerry believes in something, he does everything he can to make sure it is successful. Jerry's belief that I could and should be a leader in our school changed my life forever.

Work Hard, Play Hard, Laugh Lots - Rita Di Placido
For five years, I worked with Rita at Grandview Elementary School. As a teacher, administrator, parent and member of our school council, I came to respect "Mrs. D" in the most profound way possible. Nobody in our building worked harder than Rita. She was usually the first person at school and the last person to leave. If she wasn't in the building, there was a good chance she was doing something related to our school. Rita's intense pride and love of what happened at Grandview was evident in everything she did. She never missed a dress up day or a staff party. Rita capitalized on opportunities to play and laugh with exactly the same fervor she approached the "work" of being our school's principal. She was an amazing role model.

Show Interest - Sharon Lewis
I will never forget the feeling of being taken under Sharon's wing. Sharon is, quite possibly, the kindest and most thoughtful person I know. As a beginning teacher, I was invited out for drinks and over to Sharon's house for meals. Sharon and her husband Brad made such an effort to get to know me and we have become lifelong friends as a result. I can tell you with absolute certainty, however, that I am not the only new teacher Sharon has reached out to. Her sincere interest in others sets her apart as a teacher and administrator. I was fortunate to be her colleague, both as teacher and in admin, and I am incredibly sad that I missed the opportunity to be part of an admin team at GH Dawe.

Collaborate (and Serenity Now!) - Brian Bieber
When I arrived at Glendale Middle School, I was exposed to one of the most professional and thoughtful leaders I have ever worked with. To this day, I marvel at how organized, efficient and thoughtful Brian Bieber is. From never having a hair out of place to detailed agendas and planning, I've never worked with someone as "together" as Brian, though I still suspect he may have connections to the IRA. Brian is a master of gathering input and consensus. He values, considers and weighs the opinions of all stakeholders with a skill that I have witnessed in very few people. I only worked with him for two years, but the concept of "Serenity Now" is an absolute necessity when you work in difficult situations.

If You Don't Feed the Teachers, They Eat the Students - Marty Klipper
During my first two years of administration, I had the joy of working with Marty Klipper. Marty is one of the most sincere, genuine and caring human beings I have ever met. I was incredibly fortunate to learn about administration from Marty, because he always emphasized the need for teachers to feel like they could make a difference. Teacher efficacy was the focus of Marty's MEd and I learned a great deal from him about equipping teachers to do their best, reinforcing their efforts, and perhaps buying a couple of jugs of beer on Friday....

My Kids - Jean Cobb
I only worked with Jean for a year, but what stands out for me more than anything is her focus on the students in her school. They are "her kids" and Jean loves them like a mother. We laughed and enjoyed our time at Grandview. Jean allowed me to carve my own niche, helped me learn about compassion, and was instrumental in my successful transition to an elementary school.

Think - Bob Barthel
This year with Bob has been tremendous. He is an incredibly thoughtful man and I have grown to appreciate his laid back, sincere and pensive manner. I am very grateful to have had the opportunity to work with him.

When I was 13 years old, I learned a lesson from my Grandpa. I went to visit him in the Cross Cancer clinic following his first round of radiation treatment. Prior to the treatment, he had a thick head of hair, and when I came into the room, he was wearing a United Way ball cap with a mesh back. He smiled, removed his hat and ran his hand over his bald head. His words were simple. “My hair is gone” he remarked, “but I have a really smooth head.” 

Grandpa’s words and the lesson behind them ring true for me today. Things have changed, but I have found a new opportunity and I am happy to make the best of it.

Tapestry

When I was four years old, I started school in Edmonton. Queen Alexandra is a beautiful brick school in Old Strathcona . I don't know if everyone recalls their first days of school with the same clarity I do, but I guarantee that every child has a distinct impression of school that has roots in their first experiences. I never questioned the value of getting an education, so it is no surprise that I chose to spend the rest of my life in school.

A month into grade 1, my family moved out of the city to an acreage. I left Queen Alexandra and transferred to Wye Elementary School. Wye served a growing and reasonably affluent acreage community just east of Sherwood Park. In my youth, "The Park" was a hamlet, a true bedroom community to Edmonton that was surrounded by acreages. In my first week of school, I wore a pair of burgundy cord pants and was informed "we don't wear red pants at our school." In spite of the rocky start, I grew to love Wye School. I liked most of my teachers, I developed strong friendships, and I did well academically.

I faced plenty of social speed bumps as a kid. In grade 2, I was sent to the principal's office for trying to hit grade 1 students with my belt. After all, they were trying to go down the grade 2 slide. I did odd things and got into trouble with my teachers for being a smartass. The pecking order of the playground meant that I had my fair share of pushing matches, disagreements, and fist fights. I was in combined classes for three of my elementary years, which meant that I socialized with a different group of kids than most of the kids I played sports with. I did not have a perfect school experience. I made mistakes, failed tests, wished I could fit in, got bullied and was unkind to some of my classmates. Overall, though, I survived and thrived because my parents and teachers believed in me. They let me make mistakes and find myself, even when it must have been very difficult to let me fail and mess up.

By the time I was in grade six and ready to leave Wye, things evolved remarkably. My best friend moved to another school and I had to redefine and reconnect. My best friend from hockey transferred to Wye that year and my social circle moved towards the kids I played hockey with. I was still tight with my circle of friends from the combined classes, but I had a broader group of friends than ever. In junior high school, high school and university, I continued to fill a variety of roles. Academic. Class clown. Athlete. Party animal. The more I think about it, the more I realize how pivotal my first six years of school were for me.

I'm inspired to write this post for a few reasons. First and foremost, I attended my 25th high school reunion over the past weekend. It was a very fun night. Even better, it was very well attended by my classmates from Wye Elementary. Chris, Corinne, Ed, Kevin, Holly, Linda, Lorinda, Melissa, Rich, Rob, Taylor, Terry, Tracy, Todd, Warren. There are almost as many people, who were not in attendance, that I have kept track of over the years. The more I think about it, the more amazed I am  by the connections we develop when we are in elementary school. There is no doubt that I have developed life-long friendships in every stage of my life, but few of them are stronger than the ones I developed when I attended Wye Elementary.

I'm extra pensive right now because I am about to turn the page on a new chapter in my professional career. I am leaving the school district I have worked in for twenty years to become the principal of a K-12 school in a neighbouring community. Since I entered school administration, I have always believed I would become a principal. Now, it is a reality and I could not be more excited. I spent the afternoon at my new school last Friday and left the building brimming with hope. From there, I went to the grade eight leaving ceremony for our feeder school. It was a wonderful evening that reminded me of my days at Wye. My time in both buildings last Friday started a literal trip down memory lane (in this case, Alberta's Highway 21). I spent the weekend surrounded by my elementary classmates and I realized how important schools really are to people. The chance to be part of a place that will evoke lifetime memories for a generations of children is equally special and compelling.

During the final days prior to our reunion, I discovered that one of my elementary classmates has ALS. Carrie was always one of the prettiest and most popular girls in our little school. I distinctly remember rewording songs from the Grease soundtrack that substituted her name for Sandy, the female lead of the Grease story. As we grew up, I always felt like Carrie was a friend and we shared a bond because we had so many shared memories at Wye. In junior high and high school, Carrie continued to be a popular girl and we generally ran in the same circles, attended the same events. When I was in University, I ran into Carrie a few times and always enjoyed the opportunity to visit with her. She was genuinely kind and I think we always had a measure of mutual respect. There was always a little piece of me that had a crush on Carrie and the older we got, it was much more than a "she's cute" crush. I liked Carrie because of how genuine and friendly she was. When my wife told me about Carrie, I couldn't hold back the tears. I haven't seen her for 20 years, but I can't stop thinking about her, her family, and the awful situation they are facing.

The multiple threads of this reminiscence form a tapestry that will inform and remind me as I move forward. As people, it is important to remember where we come from. As educators, it is equally important to remember where our students are going. We need to give kids the skills to weave their own life stories.

The Power of Teams

I have been thinking about the power of teams. One of the most overused phrases around is "there is no I in team.". This phrase a ridiculous cliche that completely understates the incredible benefits of being part of a team. The power of teams goes so far beyond words and images. When a group of people gather together with a common purpose in mind, amazing things happen.

I feel very fortunate to have spent most of my life as a part of different types of teams. Early in my life, I played sports and was involved in group activities like Cubs. These opportunities exposed me to incredible role models and leaders. I wrote about many of these people in Things I've Learned From People I Admire. All of my closest friends, the people I wrote about in Stand By Me are people who have been my teammates in some shape or form. There is something galvanizing and life changing about being part of a team. Your shared experiences build memories that become permanently imprinted in who you are.

The vast majority of my team experiences come from being involved in sports. Over the years, I have played and/or coached hockey, rugby, soccer, volleyball, basketball, slow-pitch softball, skiing, cross-country running and track. I have watched major sporting events live and on television. Sports and competition speak to a primordial impulse, the survival of the fittest. For me, it does not matter whether I am playing, coaching or watching. When I identify with a team, there is nothing I want more than the success of that team. I wrote about my passion for hockey in The Game I Love but I can think of parallel experiences in many other aspects of my life.

Early in my teaching career, I spent my entire life in the school. I taught, coached, stayed late, played floor hockey and hung out with the caretakers. I spent evenings and weekends in the school marking, planning and simply hanging around. I was a rookie teacher and great people like Brad Anderson, Phil Penner, Jim Schlachter, Rob Willms and Daryl Zilinski took me under their wing. They helped me learn, relax and served as tremendous role models. Our school's administration team of Barrie Wilson, Sue Peters and Murray Saul were very much like our coaching staff. They led by example and taught me many great lessons about what it takes to be a successful teacher. My success was very much a result of the support and guidance from the people around me. 

Ultimately, my experience as a beginning teacher was analogous to my experience as an athlete. Just as an individual athlete cannot play a game without teammates, an individual teacher cannot reach their potential without the support of colleagues and administration. In a previous post called What Makes a Great School Great? I wrote about the strengths of the school I currently work at. In so many ways, our school is like a powerhouse hockey team. We have seasoned veterans, talented rookies, and an overall sense of unity. The students and parents in our school have high expectations and our staff rise to meet those expectations to the best of their ability. As a teacher, leader, administrator and parent of children who have attended our school, I can say with certainty that it is an amazing and high-performing team.

People who understand teams understand that individual success IS important. If team members do not feel the "I" component of contributing to the team, they don't reach their potential. The precise formula for success is never the same. Success might look like Don Cherry's 1977-78 Boston Bruins with 11 players who scored 20 or more goals. It might look like the Edmonton Oilers of the early 1980s, with 6 future Hall of Famers. Achieving the ultimate goal requires all team members to move in the same direction toward a common goal. There is a balance between "we" and "me", but both aspects need to be nurtured. 

In the end, I am a better person thanks to my involvement in teams. I understand that my personal goals need to fall within the framework of the place I work. I am not more important or less important than the people around me. I need them and they need me to be my best. This is true in my workplace, in athletics and in my family life. Teams have given me my best memories, my most powerful lessons and my best friends. Teams can make you jump in the air, punch walls, howl like a banshee and cry like prairie storm. They energize your limbs with excitement and can paralyze you with gut-wrenching anticipation.

We need to understand that the greatest things are achieved by teams. We may not always win and we may not always fulfill expectations, but when we feel a responsibility to those around us, our achievement is always greater. It is in the collective push that we find the power of teams.

People on the Edges of Your Life

We all have people on the edges of our lives. They are people we know, people we like, people we have spent time with. Usually, we connect with these people intermittently. We know who they are, we know their life story, and we genuinely enjoy their company. To draw a fishing analogy, we get swept up in the main current of our lives, so we miss connecting with these people because they live in the eddies and side channels. As any good fisherman (and Robert Frost) knows, it is important to explore beyond the main current. Often, the most pleasant surprises can be found on the path less travelled.

These people may be co-workers, people we don't know despite spending most of our day with them . Sometimes, they are people we meet through teams, groups, school, or our children. They might be neighbours, colleagues or friends of a friend. Sometimes, they are the siblings of close friends. They could be people you meet on a trip or a weekend getaway. We all have people like this in our lives and when something happens to them, it has a distinct impact. One of my lifelong friends lost his brother last week and pushed me to think deeply about the connections we make with the people who move in and out of our lives.

I knew Darren as long as I knew his brother, Warren. We grew up in the same places - Fultonvale Arena, Ardrossan Arena, the Moyer Recreation Center at Josephburg, and Wye Elementary School. Darren, Warren, Jackie and Gary Williams are a huge part of my best childhood memories. As a classmate, teammate, and lifelong friend of Warren's, it seems obvious to say that Dee was my friend's younger brother. Somehow, though, that is an inadequate description. He was much more than a little brother.

I have so many great memories of Darren. Thanks to hockey, we travelled across Canada together. Dee was one of those rare people who are impossible to dislike. He was friendly, outgoing and selfless. Dee was always kind to me and called me Bun, a nickname the persists with many of my closest and dearest friends. I always admired his passion for vehicles and having a good time. In lots of ways, he reminded me of a child's favourite stuffed animal - larger than life, easy to talk to and always there when you needed him. We crossed paths on a fairly regular basis because Warren's house is where our group of friends meets every year, usually at Christmas. Darren is the same age as my sister, so when we were younger, he could often  be found at the same parties and social events. In over thirty years, I never met a person who had anything  bad to say about Darren Williams.

One memory stands out from the rest. One of our friends got married at a golf course in Edmonton. When we went to leave the wedding, it seemed like a good idea to blast a few golf  balls into the pond near the parking lot. It was late and our swings were hampered by dress shoes, the dark and possibly the open bar at the wedding. It was a lot of fun, though, and as usual, Dee was in the thick of it. We were so into it that we got left behind and had to call a cab to catch up with the post-wedding party crowd. As we waited for the cab, we had a great conversation and reminisced about the good times we shared as kids. When the cab arrived, I realized I had no cash, but Darren paid with his usual "no problem" approach.

I can say with certainty that Darren was a good friend, a loyal brother, a loved uncle and everything a parent could ask for in a son. I am very sad that I cannot be there to celebrate his life due to a family vacation. It seems unreal that he won't be there the next time our friends gather for Christmas. I missed the last gathering because I was caught in the rush of my life and kids' activities, and I recognize that I missed a last chance to have my yearly conversation with Darren, whose company I genuinely enjoyed. My heart aches for those who were close to him.

In the coming months, I am going to try harder to slow down and pull myself out of the main current. Hopefully, I will get the chance to spend more time with people on the edges of my life.

ETMOOC - Am I Crazy?

Part of me is wondering why on earth I would commit to this. I am about to enter an incredibly busy two months and I have signed up to participate in this online learning experience. At the same time, I am entering the provincial and playoff run for both of my kids' hockey teams (I am the head coach of one team and help coach the other team). I am also coaching basketball and cross country skiing at our school. I have also agreed to organize and host the first ever edcamp in my home town of Red Deer -  #Redcamp This event will take place on May 11 and I am incredibly excited about it.To add some extra fun to the mix, I agreed to help organize this year's Central Alberta Teachers' Convention

However, I see the benefits to this far outweighing the drawbacks. My primary concern is time, and I know that time is resource that can be managed to ensure I give this process an honest effort. My primary professional growth goal for this year is to ensure that I help the teachers in my school use technology to make their job easier and keep their students engaged in learning.

This is my twentieth year of teaching. The first eight years were spent as a classroom teacher, team leader and department head at Eastview Middle School in Red Deer, AB. I was the VP at Eastview for three years, then spent two years as a VP at Glendale Middle School before I came to my current position as a VP at Grandview Elementary School. I live in a great community, have an amazing family, and I sincerely love what I do.

I am looking forward to learning with this amazing, diverse community of learners!

Confessions of a Shortboarder

I need to get something out in the open. I am nearly 42 years old and I snow blade. I can't help myself. Let me explain.

Quite simply, I love to ski. I've tried snowboarding, but I simply found it was way too much work. Skiing can be plenty of work when the snow is deep, but it is FAR less demanding than riding a mini surfboard on snow. I gave snowboarding an honest shot a few years ago. I'm not an old dog, but I was not ready for a new trick. Skiing is more natural and more fun. Ultimately, fun is one of the main reasons I ski. Hopefully, this post will help you understand the other reasons why I ski.

I played hockey all of my life and have skied for half of my life. As a kid, I got the chance to cross-country ski, but never strapped on downhill skis until much later in life. One of my wife's greatest contributions to who I am was introducing me to the absolute joy of spending the day at a ski hill.

Our first trip was to Jasper's Marmot Basin and it remains one of my favourite holidays ever. I borrowed skis for this trip and I skied like a hockey player. Legs shoulder width apart, knees bent, elbows up. It didn't take me long to notice that the people in the fancy SunIce jackets and stretchy pants didn't ski like me. They actually turned around their poles. Their knees seemed glued together, even when they were mashing through moguls. I didn't let my lack of ski style get in the way of having fun. I found out very early that when I ski, I like to ski fast. Really fast. On the verge of catching an edge, yard sale, Todd Brooker cartwheeling to a lacerated rectum fast. I may not have looked great, but so long as the slope was wide open, I loved to reel off big, wide, ski chattering Super GS turns.

The first pair of skis I owned were a beautiful, brand new pair of K2's. They were bright white with early 90's neon accents. They were gorgeous and I felt like a rock star when I wore them to the ski hill. I was dejected when they got stolen from our local ski area when I was supervising our school's ski club, but my replacements were equally amazing. Salomon Evolution 9000 - over 200 cm of rocketship skis that were incredibly stable at high speeds. Again , when i strapped these boards on, my ski esteem went up immeasurably. Sadly, these skis also had a shorter than expected life. A rocky run at Fernie blew up one of my boards and the cost of the repair would have been the same as a new pair.

Even though I had cutting edge gear, it was the simple act of heading to the hill that consolidated how much I loved skiing. As a beginning teacher, I got to supervise our weekly ski club, which meant a dozen evenings at our local hill, plus multiple adventures with my colleagues. I can honestly say that it was our trips to Canyon and points unknown that helped make my first years of teaching so enjoyable.

For a year after I blew up my Salomons, I rented and borrowed. With my wife on maternity leave, a young family and limited opportunity to hit the slopes, I was content with this arrangement. During this time, a buddy let me borrow his snow blades and my ski life changed. With these mini skis, the hill opened up for me. I could pop through bumps, weave through trees and glide through deep powder. My legs stayed glued together and I could still fly down the hill when I needed to. When a fellow teacher won a brand new pair of Salomon blades at a ski show, I gladly bought them. I was without my own boards and he sold them to me for a third of what a new pair of skis would have run me.

For me, skiing has never been about style. My clothes are functional. I switched from Eddie Bauer basic blue to MEC basic black about 12 years ago. My boots are the same Salomon rear entry boots I purchased when I got my original K2s. My helmet is expired and the same pair of goggles have been strapped to them for the life of the helmet. People give me odd looks in lift lines and people I ski with shake their heads when they see my blades. What they don't know is that I don't really care, so long as I am on a ski hill.

Skiing is, bar none, my favorite outdoor winter activity. It is a fantastic way to spend the day with my family. As my boys have grown up, we have enjoyed many amazing days. Part of the joy of skiing comes from spending time in the mountains. Being outdoors in beautiful places like Big White, Castle, Fernie, Kicking Horse, Kimberley, Lake Louise, Mount Norquay, Revelstoke and Sunshine is truly special. Watching my kids gain confidence and skill is incredibly fulfilling. My boys have turned me on to glade skiing and I have taken them down double black diamond runs. The immense sense of fun and pride we all feel when we tackle something challenging is my favorite feeling.

Best of all, skiing is the one activity everyone in my family can take part in together. It can be an expensive sport, but the opportunity for all of us to be outside, get some exercise and spend time with one another is priceless. Make no mistake - my snow blades are a big part of my enjoyment. They help me follow my kids through the trees and around moguls the
size of Smart Cars.

A few years ago, we were skiing at Revelstoke on a HUGE powder day. Revy is a challenge on the best of days, but in the spring, waist deep Selkirk powder can really test your endurance. I rented a big fat pair of powder skis that day and left my blades in the truck. I'm glad I had the big boards to help me push through the thick stuff, but it wasn't the same. I enjoyed the day with my snowboarding friend who lives in Revelstoke, but it was not the same. My wife and kids got too tired and went home after lunch. My old legs struggled to keep those big skis together. I kept up, but the day lacked the things I love most about a day at the hill.

I love the striking contrast of white snow and blue sky. I love riding a lift through the clouds and taking in the panorama of what looks like a lake of clouds with snow capped peaks in the distance. I love listening to the sounds my younger son makes - the "oh God" when he hits some bumps and his giggles when he crashes. I love watching my older son pick his way through the trees. I love linking a bunch of turns together, stopping to rest and visit with my friends and family.

For me, skiing and fly fishing share the same essential qualities. I get to spend my time outside in beautiful places. I am constantly thinking, planning and problem solving. Best of all, I get to share the experience with the people who mean the most to me. If I had the time and the means, I could spend all day, every day on a ski slope or on a river. Some day...

My Australian Friends

As a young man, I can honestly say that impression of Australians was formed by popular culture, particularly music. As a Cub Scout, I first learned the words "billabong" and "kookaburra" while singing campfire songs like "Kookaburra" and "Waltzing Matilda". When Men at Work released their album Business as Usual, I learned words like "vegemite" and "down under". As I grew older, my impressions moved past the strange words to a rougher vision. I somehow believed that everyone in Australia was the descendant of criminals. I listened to AC/DC and watched the Mad Max series of movies. In the late 1980s, I watched Australian rules football and films like Crocodile Dundee. Through my university years, I gained a much deeper appreciation for Australian culture through the music of Midnight Oil. I watched films like Gallipoli and Priscilla Queen of the Desert. Recently, an Aussie friend let me read Albert Facey's A Fortunate Life and I watched the film Rabbit Proof Fence. Despite all of these influences, it wasn't until my third year of teaching that I met my first "real live" Aussie.

Over the years, I have been very fortunate to get to know many Australians. I have never been "down under", but I now know enough people that a trip to Australia will be very important to me. The vast majority of the people I have met are teachers who have come to Red Deer on exchange. I can say with absolute clarity that the experience has been amazing for our schools, for my family, and for the Aussies who have uprooted their lives to spend a year in the Great White North.

I am writing this blog for many reasons. The most pressing reason is because I want to express to the Simpson family how much they have enriched my life and the life of my family. Jo and John hail from Adelaide and have spent the past year embracing life in Canada. Their children, Rhiannon and Toby, have attended our school and have certainly made our school a better place. It has been an amazing year. The Simpsons are incredible people. They are kind, thoughtful, humble and appreciative. They have certainly made the most of their time in Red Deer. Their family is particularly special to me because my son is the same age as their children and we have enjoyed many great times together. Sledding, camping, skating, skiing, snowshoeing, picnics, water fights, roasting marshmallows and numerous social gatherings have allowed us to get to know one another in a very special way. I feel that we have all formed lifelong friendships and I am truly looking forward to having our paths cross again. The fact that the lives of my children have been enriched by the kindness of the Simpson family fills my heart with gratitude.

The theme of lasting friendships is another reason to write this blog. Of the four Aussie exchange families I met prior to Jon and Joanne, I have remained connected with four of them. In fact, three of the families have made return visits to Canada. The Ball family and the Garland family have actually done two exchanges. The Collins family made a return visit to Red Deer this summer and it was one of the highlights of my holiday. I have a tight group of friends that have been connected since we were teenagers - something I wrote about in a previous post called Stand by Me. Whenever we connect, we pick up where we left off. I feel very much the same about the people I have met through the exchange program. When our lives crossed paths, it made a lasting impact and I truly feel like I have gained many new friends for life.

Another theme is lasting memories. Some examples include

• Skiing at Lake Louise with Milton Williams, the Ball family and a group of fifty grade students from Eastview Middle School. 
• Paul Ball asking me how cold it should be before you wear gloves (he had just finished shovelling his driveway and sidewalk in -30 temperatures.) 
• Watching brave Aussie teachers Paul Ball, Chis Collins, and Brian Garland learn to ski, skate and play hockey. The moment when Brian Garland finally scored a goal in our Wednesday Teacher Hockey is one of my favorite hockey memories.
• Going ice fishing with Chris Collins on a beautiful December day when there was no snow on the lake. It was like walking on a frozen fishbowl, complete with cracking ice and the eerie hum of ice heaving. The day ended with an extended visit to the lounge of the Caroline Hotel, where smoke and meat draws competed equally with dead things on the wall and a shrine to figure skater Kurt Browning.
• Taking John Mitchell to an Edmonton Eskimos/Saskatchewan Roughriders football game where a Saskatchewan fan literally gave John the jersey off his back.
• Watching Toby Simpson play in our annual Grandview Staff-Student Hockey Game.
• Crossing the finish line with Joanne, Rhiannon and Toby Simpson in the Red Deer Public Schools Ski Loppet

Australian exchange teachers helped create some of my absolute fondest memories of teaching. Watching Joanne Simpson teach her grade one class the Alberta curriculum with absolute mastery while exposing them to Australian songs and literature has been nothing short of amazing. Listening to Chris Collins speak passionately about the history of his country gave me an incredible appreciation for the similarities between Canadians and our southern counterparts. Spending time in the outdoors and discussing sport with Paul Ball and Brian Garland have fostered a whole new appreciation for the place we live and the games we play. I can say with absolute certainty that each of these teachers has made a positive impact on the schools they worked at. I can say with equal certainty that they have made our community a better place.

It is true that we don't permanently say goodbye. It has been nice to keep in touch through mail, e-mail, social media and return visits. Even though my heart is heavy that the Joanne, Jon, Rhiannon and Toby are leaving our school community, I know our paths will cross again.

The Game

For me, "The Game" is hockey. I have played and coached many different sports in my life, but ice hockey is my first love. I have written and thought carefully about the importance of hockey in my life. Some of my previous posts, notably The Game I Love and Riding the Coaching Rollercoaster have explored the role hockey plays in who I am and how I approach my life.

Recently, I came across this post on Facebook:

Hockey for 5 year olds is just that-for 5 year olds. It is about learning to be part of a team, building confidence, developing skills, and having fun. It isn't about trying out for the WHL or NHL. Feeling bad for a little boy that had his first hockey team experience in TinyMites crushed when his dad was told they had to let one kid go, and he was the weakest link. Also nice that the dad was informed with the child standing right there. I don't think that is what a first year hockey experience is about for FIVE YEAR OLDS! Maybe I'm wrong or a big sappy mother, but that seems like a sure fire way to hurt feelings and stomp on self esteem while turning a child off of team sport activities. Glad it wasn't my little boy:(

When I hear things like this, it makes me sad and incredibly pissed off. Stories like this taint the reputation of minor hockey. The comments that followed this post had two themes. The first theme was "There is no way this should happen in minor hockey." The second theme was "That is exactly why minor hockey is flawed."

I have a difficult time understanding how people can be so incredibly stupid about hockey. How can one child be let go from a 5 year old hockey team? I can imagine the counter arguments - ice time, number of jerseys, minor hockey guidelines, but none of them should get in the way of the dreams of a little boy.

At this age level, kids develop at very different rates. Any adult who "cuts" a 5 year old should have NOTHING to do with the development of young hockey players. At this age, making cuts and exclusions reflects a desire for team success ahead of individual development. Anyone who coaches young athletes with an eye for team success ahead of individual progress needs a serious reality check.

I can say with absolute certainty that Hockey Canada, Hockey Alberta, and anyone with a shred of common sense and decency would consider this situation an abomination. Anyone who coaches young hockey players should do everything they can to make kids love the game. Period.

I would love to have a conversation with any coach who "cut" a five year old child. Even better, I would love to go one on one with him on the rink and see what a hero he really is.

Why I Do What I Do

I was looking back though my posts and the themes are fairly consistent. I write about the things that are most important to me because they are easy things to write about. Some of my earliest posts like Lessons in Film and Take Time talk exclusively about what I do for a living. My life as a teacher and school administrator is evident in most of my posts, but I have yet to explore why I am so content with the career path I have chosen.

My name is Ted and I am a teacher. I wear lots of hats and occupy many different roles in my life. When I think very carefully about all of these roles, there is no doubt that teaching is at the heart of most of them. As parents, my wife and I are my children's primary and most important teachers. As a coach, I believe it is my job to teach my players the skills and tactics necessary to make them a better member of the team. As a school admininstrator, I get to teach adults how to make our school the best place it can be. As a university instructor, I got the chance to teach pre-service teachers. The absolute best part of any day at school is my time in the classroom. Here is why...

One of my favourite things is that teaching is a creative process. I am always trying to think of a better way to help kids learn and that takes careful thought. For the last four months of this school year, I got the opportunity to teach grade three for the first time. I had to really think about how to approach my new class and it was absolutely refreshing to me. I also had the chance to teach math for the first time in my career, so I was forced out of my comfort zone. I had to work hard, not so much to understand the concepts, but to understand how to best present them to the kids in my class.

I love what I do because I get to play around all day long. My teaching style is not conventional. On the first day with a new class, I always tell them that I hope my class is the best one they have ever been in.  I get to tell jokes and make terrible puns. I come up with nicknames for my students, stand on desks, lay on the floor, and use different accents depending on my mood, the day and the subject matter. I have fun and I try really hard to ensure the students have fun, too. I know that no single teacher is perfect for every student in a class and I respect that some kids think I am genuinely weird. Overall, I'm OK with that. The teachers I remember best were definitely the ones who marched to a different beat. I have a poster of purple sheep in my classroom that says "I was normal once. I didn't like it." That poster has hung in every home room I have taught in because it says a lot about how I approach my job.

Though this seems like stating the obvious, I love to teach because I love to teach. By teach, I mean that get to directly influence how other people do things. I'm not big on quotes, but Henry Adams once said, "A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops." When you think about it, this is a massive responsibility. Any teacher who does not realize what a significant influence they have needs to give their head a shake. I love the "lightbulb" moments of teaching, the moments when a child's eyes widen and smile creeps across their face because they have just made a connection that did not exist a moment earlier. I love it when 20 hands simultaneously shoot skyward to answer a question because every one of them know the answer to my question. More than anything, I love it when grown men and women come up to me in public and take the time to tell me much they enjoyed having me for a teacher. The ultimate compliment came from a young lady who now teaches in our school district because, in her words, she wanted to be just like me.

Another thing that keeps me coming back year after year is that every day brings something different. You never know who is going to walk through your door or what is going to happen next. The unpredictable nature of teaching does make it difficult at times, but I can recall very few days in my career where I was bored to death and waiting for the day to end. Time flies in a school and before you know it, the school year has ended and you get to start all over again. 

Teaching may not have huge financial rewards, but it has profound human rewards. I hope that I am making my world a better place. It gives me great pride to see my students succeed. I have been in my community long enough that I am now teaching the children of former students. There are very few places in Red Deer where I do not run into someone I know due to the work I do. To be honest, I would not have it any other way.

At the end of the school year, I usually get gifts and cards from students, and this year was no different. Two of them stand out to me. One was a chocolate bar from a little girl whose family was not happy with our school and will be moving to another school next year. She attached a small note using a piece of scrap paper, thanking me for being her teacher. I'm quite certain she either bought it with her own money or snuck it out of the house, but I was touched that she took the time to acknowledge me. My favorite, though, was a card from a boy who must have been listening carefully on the first day of classes.

That, folks, is the essence of why I do what I do.

Great Canadian Gordons

There was a time in this fair land when the railroad did not run

When the wild majestic mountains stood alone against the sun

Long before the white man and long before the wheel

When the green dark forest was too silent to be real

I am fervently proud to be Canadian. I have one tattoo, a maple leaf, and I can't think of anything else I want to permanently etch on my body. By the time I have finished writing this post, I may be ready to get GORDON as my second tattoo. It is interesting that three great Canadians and many great Canadian things are linked to the name Gordon. In no particular order, here they are...

Gordon Downie
Gord Downie is best known as the lead singer of The Tragically Hip, my favorite Canadian band. Their music is laced with references to Canadian culture. Hockey themes abound, most notably "Fireworks" celebration of the 1972 Summit Series, the disappearance of Toronto Maple Leafs defenceman Bill Barilko in "Fifty Mission Cap" and a dirge about being a goaltender in "The Lonely End of the Rink". Their lyrics celebrate notable Canadians like Bobby Orr, Pierre Trudeau and David Milgaard. Distinctly Canadian terms like toonie, CBC, prime minister and the "crown" pepper their lyrics. Even Donald S. Cherry makes an appearance as a chicken delivery man in the video for "The Darkest One".

The Hip's songs tend to mention Canadian places. Niagara Falls, Bobcaygeon, Toronton, Kingston, Cape Spear, Clayoquot Sound, Sault Ste Marie, Northumberland Strait, Churchill, Thompson, Lake Memphragog, Isle Aux Morts. I'm not completely sure, but I have a feeling that "The Paris of the Prairies" mentioned in "Wheat Kings" may be Saskatoon. I am certain that many essays and perhaps Master's theses have been written about the Hip's connection to Canada through music. Beyond the stage, Downie and the band have had cameos in uniquely Canadian television shows like Corner Gas and Trailer Park Boys.

For me, though, the quintessential Gordon Downie moment is the role he plays in Michael McGowan's film, One Week. The film is profoundly Canadian as it follows its protagonist, who has terminal cancer, on a motorcycle pilgrimage from Toronto to Tofino. Downie has a brief role as a man who meets the doomed Tyler and shares his experience of battling cancer. When I think of Canadian icons, people who have helped develop my generation's Canadian identity, I think of people like Terry Fox and Rick Hansen. When it comes to people who reaffirmed my love of all things Canadian, I cannot think of a more iconic figure than Gordon Downie.

Gordon Lightfoot
When I was a young boy, very few of my parent's record albums interested me. Albums like John Denver's Greatest Hits and Creedence Clearwater Revival's Green River that contained songs I liked to play. It was Gordon Lightfoot's Sundown, however, that fascinated me more than anything. I'm not sure if it was the cover photo of a very healthy looking, curly haired and bearded Lightfoot sitting cross legged. It was one of the few albums my parents owned that included lyrics and I loved to read them over and over again. Most likely, I was drawn in to the stories the album told. I played the title track repeatedly and sang loudly when my parents were in a different room, "Sundown, you better take care/If I find you've been creeping round my back stairs".

I include Gordon Lightfoot on this list because he is one of the most successful Canadian singer/songwriters, ever. Sundown was number one on the Billboard charts and his music has a following across the world. To me, his most impressive songs are the ones that chronicle Canadian stories. "Canadian Railway Trilogy" is Canada's definitive epic poem because it tells the tale of a watershed event in our culture. Like the epic poems of the Greeks, Lightfoots's song celebrates the heroic contributions of the men who gave their lives to fulfills Sir John A Macdonald's dream. Any song that is commissioned by the CBC to commemorate Canada's centennial has to be special!

Perhaps my favorite Gordon Lightfoot song is "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald." It tells a true story of a ship that sinks on Lake Superior, the big lake the Chippewa once called Gitche Gumee. Many people, including Gordon Lightfoot himself, feel that this is his best-written song ever. It is a haunting tale and a tribute to the courage of people who sail the Great Lakes for a living.

Gordon Howe
I have a signed poster of Gordie Howe and Wayne Gretzky in my basement. It is one of my favorite pieces of hockey memorabilia because it is actually signed by Mr. Hockey and #99 themselves. The photo was taken at the WHA All Star Game in 1978. I love this photo because it captures the end and beginning of two distinct eras in hockey. It was taken in the twilight of the upstart WHA. In 1979, both Howe and Gretzky moved on the NHL. Gordie's amazing career ended with a final year in the NHL and Gretzky's Oilers began a hockey dynasty that would change the game forever.

Gordie Howe is the consummate Canadian. He was born in a small town, grew up in the Paris of the Prairies and learned the value of a hard day's work from his father. He left home at 16 to pursue his career. He played in the NHL during five different decades, won four Stanley Cups, and played in more professional hockey games than anyone ever will play. He set a personal best for points when he was 40 years old. He got the chance to play on a line with two of his sons (a dream I hope to fulfill when my boys get older).

Gordie Howe was tough, skilled, and humble beyond belief. The first professional hockey games I got to watch were WHA games in Edmonton. At first, I wanted to cheer against him because I was an Oilers fan. As the game wore on, though, I was amazed at how good the old guy with the grey hair was. I had no idea that he was actually playing in his 31st consecutive season of professional hockey. When I think about it now, I am absolutely amazed. Gordie Howe's story is a real life storybook for many Canadian kids. Throughout his career, he was an incredible ambassador for our country and an impeccable role model.

There are some honorable mentions to this list. Gordon Pinsent, Gordon's Canadian Gin, Gord Bamford, Gordon from Sesame Street and the Barenaked Ladies first album, Gordon all deserve mention (and perhaps further exploration).

Canada is a vast country full of inspirational people. For me, these three men represent so much of what is great about Canada. Do yourself a favor this Canada Day. Listen to a little Lightfoot, rock out to a lot of Hip and try your own version of a Gordie Howe Hat Trick - score a goal, help out and play hard. When you are done playing, drink some beer to celebrate your country and your accomplishments.

You'll be happy you did!

Unplug. Play. Repeat.

Not long ago, we had a great family visit that reminded me exactly why we all need to unplug.

We went to deliver a baby gift to friends who have a 10 week old and a three year old. My boys are ten and twelve and, to be honest, screen time is usually a part of their day. We restrict the XBox to weekends, but between iPods, the family laptop, the PVR and our extended cable package, there is usually some sort of electronic component to their day. This visit, and some of the other visits I will describe later on, reinforce to me the importance of conversation, imagination and play.

We visited for a couple of hours. Visited. No electronics. No TV. The adults had a conversation (between efforts to keep the little one happy by rocking, talking and snuggling her.) The kids played with toys that require no batteries. Trains, mini stick hockey and playing a miniature piano managed to keep them entertained for the first hour of our visit. Then, the real fun began when they started to pull blankets out of the linen closet to make forts. Naturally, a round of hide and seek, jumping, rolling and squeals of joy ensued. It was SO refreshing to watch kids do the things I remember doing when I was young.

Tonight, both of my boys are having sleepovers. The older boys are at our house and the younger ones are 5 minutes away, but they managed to play together. On XBox Live, they can chat with each other while they play whatever game they are playing. I don't mind this. It is typical of their generation and I would be unnecessarily overprotective if I curtailed this type of behaviour. I think it is OK for kids, in moderation.

Our visit, however, reinforced the importance of balance and the need to unplug. Kids need to explore, create and solve problems in the real world. They need to navigate slippery log arches over creeks. Kids need to find amazing hiding spots. Chasing insects or playing with a pet can make hours pass by. My most vivid childhood memories involve visiting my friends, riding my bike, trying to climb trees, capturing frogs and being outdoors. On the last day of school this week, I asked my students what they were looking forward to this summer. I was thrilled and surprised that so many of them told me they were looking forward to things like camping, swimming, fishing and water fights.

When we go camping, it fills my heart with joy to watch my boys. They build forts, chop wood, and make fires. We ride bikes, go fishing and play cards. My absolute favorite moments of camping come when I watch my children create their own fun. Kids need to be kids. They don't need a parent hovering, coddling or berating. Children need to opportunity to define their own limits and push those limits. Sometimes, they will make mistakes. Sometimes, they will hurt themselves. Sometimes, they will spend hours engrossed in pure uninterrupted play.

Today marks the beginning of my summer holidays and I am already excited at our prospects for being unplugged for extended periods of time. They can have lots of fun indoors, but make sure to take your kids outside, folks. It's one of the greatest things you can do for them.

To learn a bit more about this topic, check out this site - Take Me Outside

Things I've Learned (From People I Admire)

I am the sum of many parts.

Who I am is a complicated story of nature and nurture. Early in my teaching career, nature versus nurture was a major concept in Alberta Health curriculum, and as usual, I turned to a film to help my students understand the concept. Robert Redford's A River Runs Through It addresses the concept so clearly. As I mused two years ago in Lessons in Film , the story hits close to home for me. Alcoholism, parenting, high expectations and fly fishing are all topics that strike close to home. Redford's masterpiece effectively captures the story of two brothers, who turn out in dramatically different ways despite growing up in a stable household in a frontier community. I have many reasons to reflect on this topic, so here is my best attempt to give credit to the people who have made me who I am. In somewhat chronological order, here are some of the best lessons I have learned.

1. Mantiens le Droit (Uphold the Right) - Charles Theodore Alexander (CTA) Hutchings

I am the first male Hutchings in four generations to NOT be employed by the military or police.  As a young boy, my world was vigilantly defined by rules, schedules, promptness, respect and family history.  Whenever I would get too rambunctious, Granddad Hutchings would bellow, “CEASE and DESIST!!!”  When necessary, I still possess a tone of voice that is simply part of being a Hutchings.  As a vice principal, I get many opportunities to fulfill the RCMP mandate to Mantiens le Droit and try hard to make sure that things are done in an orderly manner.

2. When Life Gives You Lemons, Make Lemonade - Harry Link

While childhood visits to my Granny and Granddad Hutchings meant lessons in history, police lore, boxing, nature and travel; visits to my maternal grandparents meant education.  Grandma and Grandpa Link had a set of Audobon Society encyclopedias that I loved to read.  My Grandma Link was teacher in her youth, but it was Grandpa, a brand inspector for the Alberta government, who taught me so many things:  catching, kicking, billiards, snowman building, and cribbage.  I also learned abstract concepts like determination and courage from Grandpa, who struggled with arthritis and ultimately succumbed to cancer.  My first encounter with death was the death of my Grandpa.  I brim with pride when my relatives tell me that I remind them of Grandpa Link.  When he lost his hair to chemotherapy, I will never forget what he told me. There was no sadness or self-pity. Instead, he leaned over in his bed at the Cross Cancer Clinic, took off his hat and said "I look pretty good with no hair - my head is really smooth!"

3. I Will Always Be There for You - Stewart Hutchings
When I began to play hockey, my coaches assumed a greater role in my life. My father was one of my first coaches and he was one of the first people who pointed me toward my potential. Dad was (and continues to be) a very successful volunteer, both as a coach and manager. He knew how to deal with difficult people, he listened, and he kept me focused on success. I remember very clearly standing in a sports store, getting fitted for a pair of Bauer 100 skates (the absolute best you could buy at the time). Dad turned to me and told me that he would support me, regardless of the time or cost required, so long as I wanted to pursue hockey. Dad's support propelled me farther in hockey than many young Canadians and I am eternally grateful for his belief in me.

4. Don't Think - Gary Williams and Ken Hodge
Gary Williams was another of my first coaches. When I was nine years old, I made my first serious leap as a hockey player. I made the Fultonvale Firebirds, an Atom "A" team that experienced a great deal of success. Two players from our roster played in the Western Hockey League. Two players earned NCAA scholarships. Two played in the Alberta Junior Hockey League. One earned an NCAA golf scholarship. Most of our players continued through minor hockey and finished up playing the game they love in Junior B. Gary's son, Warren, was my defense partner and our leading scorer. My job was to stay at home and not mess up. Gary always told me, "Ted, if you have to think, don't do it." In sports, it is one of the best lessons I ever learned. When I finally made it to the WHL, the message was very similar. Coach Hodge told me "Teddy, pass the puck to the first person you see open. And make sure you pass it HARD." Simple words, but words that helped me be my best. I have enjoyed the opportunity to meet both Mr. Williams and Coach Hodge as an adult. It was incredibly rewarding for me to share my life with them because they are people I respected and learned a great deal from.

5. The Power of Positive Reinforcement - Dave Cutler and Rusty Climie
My favorite coaches were the ones who took a personal interest in me. Every time I spoke to them, they made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. They built me up and made me believe in myself through the power of positive reinforcement. In hockey, Rusty Climie and Dave Cutler were the people I looked up to the most. In my early years of hockey, they coached our dreaded rivals, the Ardrossan Bisons. However, they always took the time to seek me out after a game with words of encouragement or congratulations. When they became my coaches, I can't imagine people better suited to making a young athlete more confident. In particular, Mr. Climie always took time to pump my tires and encourage me to take chances. I will never forget a tournament we played in Taber when I was twelve years old. We were in the final against a tough team from Trail, B.C. The first period was extremely tight and with about a minute left in the first frame, I wound up for one of my typical rushes. I picked up the puck on my side of the ice, drove around our net and bulldozed my way up the boards before I cut to the net, faked backhand and went around the goalie to make it 1-0. When we got into the dressing room, Mr. Climie told the boys, "Big Ted put the team on his back to score that goal. Now its your turn to help him out." It didn't hurt that we had future NHL star Ray Whitney in the lineup, but I scored another goal and we won the game 6-1. From that game forward, every time I played in an important hockey game, I wanted to be on the ice and I wanted to make a difference. It was an amazing lesson in the power of positive reinforcement that I will never forget.

6. Great Teachers Give Lessons That Last Forever - So Many Great Teachers
Throughout my school years, I had some incredible teachers. In elementary school, Mr. Milner shared his knowledge of and love for Alberta's natural history. Mr. Werenka, who always backed my athletics and academics.

In junior high, Mr. Bachinsky, Mr. Bushkowsky, and Mr. Dixon, who fostered my passion for reading, writing and literature. Mr. Fildes, Mr. Fleming and Mr. Harbourne, who encouraged me to participate in school athletics.

It was in high school that I found my most powerful role models. Mr. Sproule inspired my love of history. Mr. Barron helped push me in both French and English. Mr. Souster always backed me abilities as an athlete and was one of my biggest supporters when I left school to pursue hockey. More than anyone, though, Mr. John Phelan left an impression on me that I will never forget. He was an accomplished multi sport athlete who hustled you out of the gym into whatever sport he wanted. Mr. Phelan was solely responsible for  turning me and most of my friends on to rugby. Even though he never coached our team, he was always around, providing support and encouragement. I got to play a few games for Mr. Phelan as a JV player and I will never forget his intensity and passion for the game. When I moved to Red Deer and learned more about his legacy in his home town, my respect for him was secured permanently.

7. Every Conversation Is Important - Barrie Wilson
Barrie was my first principal and to this day, he is one of my biggest heroes in education. In my books, he ranks with John Dewey, Howard Gardner and Elliot Eisner. He is an amazing, energetic, inspiring man. The biggest lesson I learned from Barrie was the importance of taking time to speak with (and listen to) people. Barrie would always ask me about my life away from the school. Even more important, he remembered what  we talked about and followed up on it. As a beginning teacher, I spent many hours in the school on the weekend and it seemed that Barrie was usually there. He ALWAYS took time to have a quick conversation about what was going on in my life. Today, I know how important it is to acknowledge the people I spend my day with. I'm no Barrie, but I can always aspire to be like him.

8. Passion is Power - Jerry Simonsen
Jerry was my second principal at Eastview Middle School. He is also the man I can blame and thank for pushing me to become an administrator. Like Barrie Wilson and so many of the people who coached me, Jerry believed in me. Jerry is incredibly passionate about many things - athletics, fishing, fitness, underdogs and students who fall through the cracks in the system. When Jerry believes in something, he does everything he can to make sure it is successful. Jerry's belief that I could and should be a leader in our school changed my life forever.

9. Work Hard, Play Hard, Laugh Lots - Rita Di Placido
For the past five years, I have worked with Rita at Grandview Elementary School. As a teacher, administrator, parent and member of our school council, I have grown to respect "Mrs. D" in the most profound way possible. Nobody in our building works harder than Rita. She is often the first person at school and the last person to leave. If she isn't in the building, there is a good chance she is doing something related to our school. Rita's intense pride and love of what happens at Grandview is evident in everything she does. One of the greatest things about Rita is that she extends her passion to having fun. She never misses a dress up day or a staff party. Rita partakes in opportunities to play and laugh with exactly the same fervor that she approaches the "work" of being our school's principal. She is an amazing role model.

10. Don't Sweat the Petty Things (and Don't Pet the Sweaty Things) - Jeremy Spink
Jeremy is one of my very best friends. He is also the world's most relaxed organism. Very few things rattle him and he is always calm and positive. People love Jeremy because he is so nice and even-keeled. Whenever I need to be talked off the ledge, Jeremy is the man. We have worked together, played hockey, coached hockey, gone to school, stood up for one another and been roommates. We've shared vehicles, tents, trailers, hotel rooms and beds. Simply, he is the man and I'm glad I we are friends.

This list is far from complete, but this is a good place to start.