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.

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!

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.

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.

Time for a Rant

I try hard to make sure that this blog is a postive place. I have so much to be thankful for and I have very little to complain about in my life. Recently, my uncle passed away and I chronicled his his influence on me in Homage. My uncle was not afraid to express his opinion. He was a brilliant man and it was difficult to aruge with him because he was so passionate and so intelligent.

This post is, in some ways, a tribute to my uncle. There are many many things that drive me crazy. I'm not saying I'm perfect. I have my faults - you need only talk to my lovely wife, children, students or colleagues to find them out. Sometimes, however, it is important to express your opinion in no uncertain terms. This one is for you, Uncle Hutch.

As I mentioned, I'm not perfect. I may well be guilty of some of the transgressions outlined below. Either way, I hope that people read this and reflect. If you're not guilty, my apologies for wasting your time and I hope you laugh. If you are guilty of some of these faux pas, well, now you know how I feel. In no particular order, here are some of the things that make me furious.

Let's start with people who are incapable of blaming themselves. You know what? I screw up all the time and I'm the first to admit it. Hello? Here are my thoughts for the parent who complains that the school has failed your child even though she has accumluated 150 absences in grade 1, 2 and 3. Get your kid to school. Read with her. Do the work your teacher sends home. Ask questions. Attend parent teacher conferences. Don't call a teacher with 25 years experience and ruin her day by threatening to phone the Mayor. Never mind the superintendent, just call the Mayor because he will march right to the school and fix things because you are a taxpayer and therefore the indirect boss of all public servants. That is some pretty quick thinking on your part.

People who do not see their children for who they really are equally frustrating. Often, I feel like saying
"I was unaware that the sun emanates from your child's rectum. Little did I know." I have also been tempted to mention "I had no idea a person's excrement could be odorless? What a blessing." It seems that these people whose vision is corrected by rose lenses are the same people who cannot stand to see their children fail.

Children need to fail. They need to be independent. Children need to solve their own problems. Parents who wade into organizing play dates, call other parents to arrange their child's social calendar and live their lives vicariously through their children are sad. I know that my kids are not perfect. I see them realistically. I hope that they learn to deal with failure and difficult situations. I refuse to be a rescue helicopter.

I am equally appalled at parents who won't discipline their own children. These are the people who let their kids wander, talk and whine during public performances, school assemblies and church services. When I was kid, I didn't dare move when I was a member of an audience or congregation. My parents reinforced that by staying still, listening and paying attention, I was doing the right thing. They didn't threaten to punish or reprimand me because they didn't have to. I sat still because it was the right thing to do.

It drives me out of my mind when one of my kids' teams goes out for a team meal (which is another rant unto itself) and the kids are acting like idiots because they are sucking back jugs of pop and downing sugar packets like they are shooters. Add to this the fact that the service is slow because we decided to bring 40 people to a restaurant at once to eat. What a stroke of genius. I can't imagine why the kids are bored spitless because it took them 30 minutes to get a drink and 60 minutes for an order of pizza bread. Oh, but since I am the coach of the team, somehow I'm responsible for the kids' conduct, regardless of where we are. So, when your future first round draft pick is using his spoon to fling creamers across Denny's at little old ladies with blue hairpieces, it's my job to tell them to stop because I've volunteered to be their coach? Uh huh.

I have a whole litany of traffic-related pecadillos. It seems to me that many people think the only reason for traffic laws is to make people work hard to pass their driver's test. Once people have their license, why would they bother using a signal light? How silly. Why on earth would anyone on the road want to know which way a vehicle is going to travel? For that matter, why would anyone want to read simple signs like "Slower Traffic Keep Right"? Heaven forbid you should move out the left lane when there is a line of 30 vehicles behind them on the Friday of a long weekend? I mean, we all own the road if we pay taxes, don't we?

My final target? People who play out their live's trials and tribulations on Facebook. I don't need to know you have menstrual cramps and I couldn't care less. I'm pretty sure you won't die. Most days, it hurts me to get out of bed, too. That's because I'm getting old and I really don't take care of my body. It's my fault. So, Facebook whiner, the way you feel is likely within your control and if it is that bad, why do you want everyone to know? I look at people like Terry Fox who ran 26 miles a day on one leg with great admiration. People who live in nice homes and have full bellies but still need to spew pathos on their social media need a profound reality check.

Enough. I have a whole litany of topics to address in future rants. I'm tired and grumpy. I better go to bed.

I Don't Get It

Note: This is an older piece of writing - probably one of my first forays into writing for pleasure. I think my style has changed in the last ten years, but this is still one of my favorite stories from the classroom and I hope you enjoy it.

In many ways, students who say "I don't get it" are a teacher's raison d'être. We help students to "get it," whether "it" refers to understanding the major events leading to Confederation or learning to cross the street safely. We need students to tell us when they do not understand a concept, because when they "don't get it" and don't tell us, major problems develop. Sometimes, student misconceptions provide much needed comic relief.

Several years ago, my Grade 7 class was studying First Nations culture. Specifically, we were discussing the importance of bison to the Blackfoot. In general, seventh grade boys are fascinated with killing things, so naturally, our discussion turned to the actual techniques of the buffalo hunt. Many students were aware of the importance of the buffalo jump—Dry Island Buffalo Jump is located less than an hour east of Red Deer and most of them had heard of the world-famous and (to them) well-named Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump. I was dramatically demonstrating to the class how the hunt worked. I asked them to envision an enormous herd of beasts in full stampede while I rode behind them on my wild pony (actually, a metre-stick with a horse head duct taped to it). I explained that eventually the mighty bison would run out of prairie and plummet over the edge of the buffalo jump to a horrible death. Although my students were captivated by the drama and horror of the whole event, a hand shot up in the middle of my presentation.

"Yes, Kelly?" I said. I was ready to demonstrate my full understanding of this important part of Canada's cultural heritage, but I wasn't ready for the question that followed.

"I don't get it," Kelly said.

"Don't get what?" I asked, still ready, still eager, still wanting to dazzle.

"How would stampeding buffalo over a cliff kill them?"

"They fall a great distance to the ground, which caused serious injury or death," I replied.

"But, wouldn't the buffalo just fly?" he asked.

"No?!"

"But don't buffalo have wings?" he asked. "You know, buffalo wings?"

He was dead serious. Keep in mind that this was the mid 1990s, long before Jessica Simpson made the same, but much more publicized, mistake.

Like everyone else in our classroom, I was floored. Incredulous stares and shoulder shrugs filled the room. Finally, one of my more creative students said, "It's like a Bugs Bunny cartoon—this huge buffalo has tiny little wings that it flaps madly, but it can't fly." Somehow, Billy had an image in his head that buffalo couldn't possibly die because they had wings (which are tasty and come in different flavours). I tried to explain that Buffalo wings were actually chicken wings prepared according to a recipe that originated in Buffalo, New York. I'm not sure he "got it", but I tried.

As teachers, we really don't know what is going on in our students' heads. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why thinking aloud is such a powerful teaching strategy. Nonetheless, though I hear things like this every week, I've never forgotten the comic image of buffalo desperately flapping tiny wings as they flew over a cliff.

What Makes a Great School Great?

I work in a great school. I've mentioned this in many of my previous posts, including Come Together

It's a stretch to even say that it seems like work. There are definitely times when it is tough to get going in the morning and I certainly enjoy the holidays we are blessed to receive. I've worked in several different schools and I say with absolutely certainty that Grandview is great.

It's worth examining and I hope I can do it justice. What happens in our building really is special.

At the heart of a great school are great people. In my mind, education is about allowing children to see who they are and what they could be. Every decision that is made in a school must be made with its students' best interests in mind. Our school motto is "Parents, Students, Staff - Now That's Teamwork". I didn't make it up, but I like it because we really do live it. There will always be people who don't quite fit in, parents who mistrust the system, students who have trouble accepting the culture of how things are done, staff who do not commit themselves to the hard work it takes.

Overall, things work very nicely in our building. We have great kids. The vast majority of them have bought in to what we do. Work hard and play hard. Treat others with respect. Have fun! We don't have a long list of rules, but some things are not negotiable. As the vice principal of the school, I sometimes have to point out to children that it's not OK to play fight. Usually, they believe me and their behavior gets adjusted accordingly. If they don't "get it" the first time, then I need to spend time with them at recess. We watch the other kids, we walk, we talk and usually, they realize that play fighting is not what we do. There have been a few students who either don't get it or tell me they plain don't like that rule and those kids get to be my executive assistants. They get to do jobs inside, help with recycling, or work in my office. These kids are the exception because overall, the students who walk our halls understand their part in making Grandview a great place.

We also have amazing adults in our building. Starting with our indefatigable and overwhelmingly positive principal, Grandview is full of master teachers who care deeply about their students. Our staff is flexible and innovative. They openly embrace guest clinicians, performers and speakers. They seek out new field trips and technology to make learning come alive. These teachers understand that it's not possible to do a great job by arriving at 8:30 and leaving at 3:05 every day. Even better, they know how to work together. When they are given time to collaborate, it's all business and the business is making sure every child in our building gets the best opportunities possible.

The support staff does exactly that. They support the kids and the teachers. They do an amazing range of things and it all helps the kids in our building. Individual assistance, working with groups, tending to cuts, contacting parents, helping students with special needs participate in every activity, preparing materials and learning environments. These ladies do WAY MORE work than they need to and they do it because they enjoy it.

Much of what happens is a result of the prevailing culture in our building. In general, if people don't "get it", they leave sooner or later. I've been at Grandview for five years and we have some turnover each year. The core staff who drive the culture here have also been here for at least that long. It really is an amazing thing to be a part of.

You'll note that there is nothing in this post about achievement. We don't need an outside test or survey to tell us we are doing things right, though we do very well on those externally imposed and contrived "measures". There is nothing in this post about being a "Renaissance School" or a "Seven Habits" school. We don't need to attach any stickers or gloss on what we do. We are not a "Program of Choice" with a focus on arts/technology/languages/science etc. We have never attached the label of a "Professional Learning Community" to what we do, but if you understand what a PLC is supposed to be, you'll see that the definition applies very nicely.

We don't need labels, programs, high test scores and positive survey results. The people who spend their days in our school know it is a great place. You FEEL it the moment you walk in the building and to my knowledge, there is no way to measure a feeling like that.

Technological Dissonance

dis·so·nance Noun /ˈdisənəns/

Synonyms:

• noun: discord, discordance, disharmony, jar

• dissonances plural

• Lack of harmony among musical notes
  • an unusual degree of dissonance for such choral styles
  • the harsh dissonances give a sound which is quite untypical of the Renaissance
• A tension or clash resulting from the combination of two disharmonious or unsuitable elements
  • dissonance between campaign rhetoric and personal behavior
    
    
    Source: http://www.google.ca/dictionary?langpair=en|en&q=dissonance&hl=en&aq=f

The idea for this post has been percolating for over a year, but I never seem to get around to actually writing it. I've changed titles, messed around with the topic and even now, I'm rewriting this introduction for the fourth or fifth time. In essence, this post is about saying NO to your kids even when you eventually say YES. It's not easy to explain, so here goes.

I’m not talking about a state of total denial. I’m just saying that it is a parent’s job to teach their children. As a child's primary teacher, parents do children no favors by saying “Yes” to all of their requests.

For several years, I was absolutely adamant that our children would not have video games or a gaming system. I said no for a long, long time. At times, I ranted and raved. I cited the "vidiots" I taught who spent every waking hour gaming instead of reading or doing my incredibly meaningful homework. I read to my kids every chance I got. We did not (and still do not) have a DVD player in our vehicle. When we went on a long road trip, we took books, played games like 21 Questions and, if it was an extra long trip, we purchased an Invisible Ink puzzle book.

My reasoning went something like this... I didn’t have anything like it when I grew up. Most of my friends had some sort of gaming system – Atari, Intellivision, Colecovision. I made do with my handheld Coleco football game. I never was very good at video games (with the notable exception of Galaga) so I spent a lot of my childhood enjoying simple things like reading and playing with sticks. I can honestly say that I don’t feel like I missed anything because I didn’t own an Intellivision until 1996 (a fellow teacher had a system gathering dust in his garage, so I brought it home on a whim.)

Over the past couple of years, gaming systems have gradually made their way into our house. Santa brought my oldest son a Nintendo DS and since then, a DSI, two iPods and an Xbox Kinect have appeared. My children have always had a computer to use. They are digital natives and it amazes me to watch them interact with and figure out anything that is electronic. What finally swayed me was watching how their peers interacted and socialized. Gaming has become a social event that can be shared whether they are in the same place as a friend or not. I wondered if I was turning my kids into social pariahs through my absolute denial of portable, personal gaming systems.

Their gaming was initially restricted to educational sites and games like Brain Age. Over time, we have mellowed. Before our New Year's Eve party this year, I even purchased the Dance Central game so the kids could play (and laugh at the adults.)

In retrospect, it appears that I was being obstinate and perhaps hypocritical about gaming systems. I did have handheld games as a kid – Coleco Football, Mattel Basketball, and an amazing piece of plastic called a Merlin. When I was twelve, one of the coolest things I did with the friend I wrote about in Stand by Me was to play Space Invaders on his Atari. During my third year of University, I bought a Mac Classic II (after all, it had a blazing clock speed of 16mHz, twice as fast as the first generation of Mac Classics. When I started dating my wife, I did enjoy playing Donkey Kong on their Nintendo. I have a laptop from work that I bring home and take with me when I travel. My wife and I both have an iPhone and when I’m away from 3G and WiFi, it seems strange to me.

Part of the reason this post has taken so long is that I don’t believe in preaching. I particularly don’t want to write one thing, then turn around and do the other thing. My first title for this post was “Do Your Kids a Favour and Say No”. Upon further reflection, dissonance has tempered my outer grouch.

In my job, I do encounter children whose parents indulge their every whim. For many parents, screen time for their children means peace and quiet. Buying candy in the store also buys a quiet child and prevents embarrassment. My wife and I try hard to ensure that our children understand that they cannot have everything. We don't have the financial resources, but more importantly, I really want my kids to understand that things need to be earned.

More than anything, I hope that parents think carefully about the decisions they make when it comes to their children. I take a very long time to make decisions because I really need to understand as much a possible about an issue before I determine my stance. I am pleased with the way technology operates in our home. It allows us to learn, to communicate and provides a great deal of entertainment. Like anything, moderation is crucial. Every hour spent in front of a screen is balanced with an hour of physical activity, homework, reading or family time.

After all, I spend a great deal of time writing this blog because I really enjoy writing and I love the feedback I get from people on the thoughts that rattle around in my head. It would be pretty sanctimonious for me to deny my children the opportunites that technology affords them. I may not always say what I mean, but I do mean what I say!