Didn't you read the fine print?

Today was the first day of classes at Holland Christian Schools. Students were excitedly buzzing around the halls of our campuses, eager to reconnect with their friends, meet their new teachers, and get started on this next installment of their learning adventure.

In the high school this morning, we were greeted by the sound of a french horn playing a pep band solo, loud chants of the number "7," and various packs of students roaming the halls in sailor hats, Hawaiian leis, and stick-on mustaches. All that could only add up to one thing: Freshman Orientation Day. Over 100 of our seniors took time out of the last two days of their summer vacations to get trained as orientation leaders and then spend this morning welcoming the class of 2019 to campus. A scavenger hunt helped teams of students get to know the campus in a fun way before their first real day of classes. All in all, it's just a great way to kick off the year and build community.

At our elementary and middle school campuses, administrators and teachers welcomed mobs of students into the halls and thanked the Lord for a week of mild weather forecasted to make for a smooth transition back to class.

But this afternoon . . . 

There was a little mix-up for our afternoon bus routes that ended up with one of our principals, my assistant, and me getting in our cars and bringing kids home. 

"That's in your contract. Didn't you read the fine print?" joked my assistant.

It was certainly an unexpected turn of events, but I'll tell you what: I got to pack 6 wonderful elementary students into my Tahoe and ask them about how their day had gone.

"It was great! My new teacher is awesome!"

"We had chapel today where we learned about Life Together, our theme for the year . . . and then we got to sing some songs too!"

"Our teacher read to us. She's really good at that."

"I saw all my old friends, and I even made a new one!"

We pretended that my driving them was a cool adventure, and despite my iPhone spitting out turn by turn directions, I let them tell me how to get to their homes. When we arrived at our first stop, the two moms waiting there couldn't have been nicer and more understanding. All in all, it became an afternoon of unexpected pleasures.

Isn't it great when that happens? Isn't it nice to know that even when we've planned and scheduled our lives to the Nth degree, God has the ability to throw a wrench into things to remind us that we aren't in control . . . and then turn an inconvenience or a tough situation into a blessing to remind us that He is in control.

Today I watched students and teachers full of joy. I held a couple of meetings and prepared some materials for our school board. I started to answer emails and was then interrupted by the unexpected blessing of a ride home with some wonderful kids.

Education doesn't pay a lot, but it's the greatest job in the world.

Or didn't you read the fine print?

Thoughts and Musings from My MACUL 2015 Experience (Part 1)

Last week, several of the administrators and teachers from Holland Christian Schools and I descended upon the MACUL Educational Technology Conference in Detroit. I didn't exactly know what to expect from the event because the corresponding CUE Conference in California had always been a favorite of mine--meaning MACUL had some big shoes to fill.

We had a great experience.

Something magical happens when you put over 5,000 enthusiastic people together in a building to talk about the landscape of teaching and learning.

Not only was the conference filled with inspiring speakers, useful information, and interesting connections with fellow educators; but we also had ample opportunity to just hang out, share ideas, and dream about the future of education at our school.

. . . Oh, and play a little pick up baseball on the actual base paths of the old Tigers Stadium.

What I like about today's Ed Tech conferences is that they are less about specific devices and software and more about overarching principles behind the way students and teachers can work together, how to unleash people's potential, and how to imagine ways technology can help with that process. We can't hitch our wagons to a particular machine or one program that will be obsolete in a short time. It's better to develop broad philosophies of learning that can adapt to an ever-changing landscape.

So what did I take away from MACUL 2015?

Oftentimes in education, there is a distrust--either subtle or overt--of too much technology. We might worry that devices isolate our students from each other or that too much screen time is somehow de-humanizing. 

During his keynote address, George Couros (@gcouros) reminded me that technology--when used well--has the potential to connect us in ways that weren't previously possible and to help us tap deeply into the very fabric of our humanity. If you don't believe me, check out these clips:

I mean, seriously . . . How can you not get goosebumps watching those and thinking about how your own school can provide similar experiences for students?

Couros' talk also reminded me that while it's a good idea to provide teachers with the HOW--like professional development in the specific tools they will need to execute a new strategy, we shouldn't forget about the power of big ideas and inspiration to remind us about WHY we're doing what we're doing in the first place.

So going into this weekend, take a moment to remind yourself of what first drew you to your job. Tap into that spark and see if you can help a student or a co-worker discover theirs. In doing so, you'll stir something deeply human inside and feel the joy that comes from living into exactly who you were created to be.

More to come in the days ahead . . . 

Directionally Challenged

Courtesy of http://thissignhassharpedges.blogspot.com

At the last school I served, we had a running joke in the main office.  Different people would take turns going out to pick up the lunch order for us, but unless it was very close to school, our receptionist would beg out of the trip, because in her words she was "directionally challenged," which made it tough for her to find her way to a particular location, much less find her way back once she had arrived.

Directionally challenged.

I see lots of us--me included--suffering from this problem at this time of year.

We're reminded by others, and we have a sense ourselves that we should "be thankful" . . . that we should take on a positive attitude and focus on all of the good things that have happened to us in our lives.  It's a time to be happy, a time to spread the love, and a time to recognize how good we really have it.  Here are some samples of messages you may hear this week and over the whole holiday season:

“It is impossible to feel grateful and depressed in the same moment.”
“Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others.”
"Gratitude is absolutely the way to bring more into your life."
“Be thankful for what you have, you’ll end of having more. If you concentrate on what you don’t have, you will never, ever have enough.”
“It isn’t what you have in your pocket that makes you thankful, but what you have in your heart.”

These sentiments aren't evil . . . but they are directionally challenged.

Let me explain.

Generalized feelings of gratitude, joy, and thankfulness are only the beginnings of doing the right thing.  They are only the beginnings because they lack direction.  They fly off into the clouds like buckshot without a target.  They are the equivalent of putting a thank-you card in the mail with no address on it.

The blessings we receive, the people we love, and the good things that make us smile are meant to point us in the right direction.  

They are meant to point us to the one from whom they all originate, our Creator, Redeemer, and Friend.  As the doxology encourages us, "Praise God from whom all blessings flow."

Don't let your life be like the person driving the wrong way down the row of cars in the parking lot on Black Friday.  Don't be directionally challenged in your thanks.

This year, don't just remember to give thanks.

Remember who it is you're thanking.

The Giants, Jeans, and Organizational Culture

As I watched the end of Game 7 of the World Series, I got excited.  My beloved San Francisco Giants were going to win their third championship in the last 5 years.  It was amazing to witness the clutch hitting of Pedro Sandoval and Hunter Pence and the absolute dominance of 25-year-old pitching phenom, Madison Bumgarner.  

Having just moved to a new state, I didn't have that many people outside of my own family who were cheering along with me, so I decided to have a little fun.

After the Giants racked up two outs on the Royals in the bottom of the 9th inning, I composed an email to every one of my school employees promising two celebratory jeans days and a personal delivery of donuts to each campus in recognition of the Black and Orange taking home the championship.  

After sweating out the Royals' two-out triple, I hit "send" when Panda caught the foul ball to end the Series.  Within minutes, my inbox was full of happy replies filled with the appropriate mix of congratulations and good-natured teasing.

Thursday and Friday were jeans days on all five of our campuses.  I walked around a bit, basking in the glow of victory and delivering donuts to staff lounges (loaded with orange sprinkles, of course).  And I realized something.

I love jeans days.  

Not because I'm used to Silicon Valley where CEO's of the world's most valuable companies deliver earnings news in denim, but because there's something different in the air on jeans days.

People seem more upbeat.

Happier.

More engaged and interactive.

Comfortable.

And just plain enthusiastic.

Now, I'm a big believer in professionalism, and I love setting high expectations for ourselves that are conveyed by our facilities, our words, and yes--even the way we dress.  

But I love the way our team feels on jeans days.

If being a leader is about building a successful organizational culture, then it would probably be a good idea for me to figure out how to bottle the energy and enthusiasm of jeans days and spread it out more and more within our schools.

Sometimes culture-building seems touchy feely, and it's more tempting to focus on data, strategy, and finances (you know, "business stuff").  But a strong team is hugely important for success . . . and its impact is palpable, even if it can't always be quantified or measured.

So I'm going to dedicate myself to having clarifying conversations about our identity and direction.  I'm going to look for opportunities to specifically and authentically praise people for what they are doing as champions of our school.  I'll tell the truth and be vulnerable.  And I'll make sure I spend time telling people what I love about this place--not just what needs to be fixed.

The Giants aren't going to win the World Series every year, and we aren't going to wear jeans every day.  

But that doesn't mean it can't feel like it.

------------

What "jeans day" experiences have built organizational health in your experience?  When do you relish being part of something special?  

True Power

I have an addiction.

I love attending conferences and other professional development events.  Always have.  Always will.  

For the past 3 days, I traveled with the administrative leadership team from Holland Christian to a symposium in Atlanta put on by CESA, the Council for Educational Standards and Accountability.  This group began with a collection of Christian schools seeking to raise the bar for what it means to be excellent in regard to academics, governance, and community.

One of the keynote speakers we heard was Andy Crouch, editor of Christianity Today, and author of the recent book Playing God: Redeeming the Gift of Power.  During his talk, Crouch painted a fresh, beautiful picture of what true leadership can and should be.  

We all know the famous quote by Lord Acton, “Power tends to corrupt, but absolute power corrupts absolutely.”  That idea often colors our perceptions of people with power—be they politicians, CEO’s, or in my case school administrators.

But Crouch put forth a view of leadership from a totally different perspective.  He noted that in reality, more authority is actually a call to deeper sacrifice . . . and that true power is really about creating, not controlling.  It longs for abundance, not limitations.

True power wants teeming and flourishing.  And even when the results of this creative energy are unpredictable, they will be beautiful.  Crouch used the example of a murmuration of starlings to illustrate the kind of teeming and flourishing he was talking about.  Check out this video to see what he meant.

I think about how fulfilling it is as a leader to see the people you guide flourishing in their roles.  It strengthens organizational culture, boosts morale, and inspires excellence.  I want to do everything I can to have the halls of our campuses teeming with people—teachers and students—who can’t wait to fulfill their creative calling.

Each evening at the symposium, the principals and I stayed up late, talking through our ideas and sharing visions for the future.  That’s such an energizing time for the team and one of the best parts of being away together.  We have a great group of leaders at the helm of Holland Christian—from administration to our Board of Trustees—and I’m excited to step into the future with these people.

I love me some conferences.

But even more, I love coming back, rolling up our sleeves and getting to the work of greatness.  

Bring on tomorrow!

A Thing of Beauty

"A thing of beauty is a joy forever." - John Keats

Today I spent some time walking around our high school campus, popping in on different classes and teachers to see how things were going.  As I made my way back to my office, I heard yelling from one particular room, and it got louder and louder as I neared the door.  Curiosity got the best of me, and I just had to know what this was all about.

As I stepped in, I was greeted by the booming voice of Mr. Koeman and the wide-eyed stares of his seniors.  The class is studying C. S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters, and Mr. Koeman was explaining the message behind letter number 21 -- a particularly poignant one for teenagers.

It was a thing of beauty.

Have you ever watched someone in action--maybe an athlete, or a mother, or a counselor--and thought, This person is doing exactly what they were created to do?  That's how I felt today watching Kevin.

And as the goosebumps rose up on my arms and my eyes started to water, I realized it was because something dawned on me.  This is the kind of teaching, the kind of mentoring, that my own kids are receiving every day, and it's what they have to look forward to for many years ahead.

What a gift.

Here is a teacher so clearly opening up the minds and hearts of his students and climbing inside to shape their view of the world, their choices, and their self worth.  It's exactly the kind of thing my wife and I pray for our own kids, and I wish the parents of every one of the students in that senior English class could have been there.

Your children are precious.
Your children are loved.
Your children matter to us.

Teaching is insanely difficult.  It demands passion and self-discipline and sacrifice and continuous improvement and love like an ocean.  But when it's done well, it's so special that it makes you want to cry . . . like it did me today.

I can't believe that I get to work at a school like this and watch amazing transformations happen in the lives of our young people, and I hope this small snapshot encourages and inspires the parents who entrust their children to us.

Parents and educators: your sacrifices are worth it.

Today, I saw a thing of beauty.  How about you?

What if . . .

This quote greets people in the "Main Street" area of Holland Christian High School.  It's one of several inscriptions on the walls of this gathering area . . . words meant to inspire, to challenge, and to push people to think.

As a superintendent, it's my job to think about the future of our school.

A lot.

I need to ask the right questions--much more than I need to have the right answers--and one of my favorite questions is, "What if?"  That question is an invitation to throw off the shackles of that's-how-we've-always-done-it and instead dream about what could be.  It's a call to step out on limbs.  To shape the future.

The right questions apply to many organizations, but they also need to be realistic for the context of the resources and values of your particular school.  Lately, a few iterations of the what if question have been running through my head:

What if we commit to assemble a faculty roster of the very best teachers?

What if we reject the notion that teaching needs to be a financial sacrifice and instead compensate our faculty in a way that reflects the professionalism we will expect from them?

What if every one of our employees, regardless of role in the organization improved her or his skills and added to her or his toolbox every year?

What if our teachers regularly observed their peers, both to learn and also offer helpful advice?

What if our school was more welcoming and accessible for new families?

What if, as leaders, we commit to having the tough conversations that are needed so our faculty and staff don't wonder whether or not they are making the grade?

What if we use praise and storytelling to propel our notions of model teachers, model students, and even model parents who embody the mission and vision of our school?

The first 14 years of the 21st century have taught us that innovation is not only welcome, but required if education is going to be effective for our students.  It's necessary for us to challenge the status quo and imagine a whole new playing field for our game.

What if . . .

Words that spur us to change.

What if . . .

Words that release the dreamer in us.

What are your what if's?