A Long Overdue Thank You

Two weeks ago today, my kids started school.  For the first time ever, all of my children left to spend all day with other teachers.  Every day.  For a whole school year.  This has been a big ole adjustment for Chez Campbell.  I'm talking immense...cavernous (I took these adjectives from Lily's vocabulary list, are you impressed?)

Overall, it's gone okay.  They aren't exactly soaring yet, but they are making serious steps in that direction.  Most of our learning curve hasn't been about the academics or the content, at least not yet.  It's been more about the systems and the styles.  The heart of the school is precious and the social environment is as good as you're going to get when you put a bunch of young'uns together for 7 hours a day for 170ish days.  It's a good fit for our family.

One of my biggest fears about sending them was that I have some pretty strong ideals about education.  And sometimes, it's hard for me to be flexible in those.  I knew that I would have a really hard time letting go of the planning and oversight of their curriculums and their instruction.  And I was right, it has been difficult.  Nearly every night, there has been something that I have been handed or heard from one of my children that has forced me to narrowly resist raising my eyebrows.  If I'm being totally honest here, I haven't been completely successful at that...there has been some raising of eyebrows.  There may have even been some mumbling about Bloom's Taxonomy and higher level thinking skills.   But alas, I'm rambling.

For the most part, I have behaved myself, bit my tongue, and moved forward in the homework march, even though I am pretty thoroughly opposed to homework.  I have tried to focus on the positive things, with varying degrees of success.  But there was one issue that I simply couldn't let go of and after days of praying, researching, and battling my inner self, I decided I had to approach a teacher about it.  I won't go into the details here, because it's not the point of this post.  But I will say, that as I wrestled with whether or not I needed to shut up or speak up, I did a bit of self-examination.  Why is it that I can't simply send my kids to school and be okay with the provided instruction?  Why would something like the details of instructional choices get me so torn up?  I mean, there are dozens of other really great parents who send their kids to the same school every day and assume they are getting what they need.  Why can't I be one of those parents?

Through my questioning, I ended up taking a trip down memory lane.  The time was December 1996 and Ryan and I had been married for about 18 months.  I was a fresh college graduate, eager for a classroom.  Because of my December graduation date, I spent a semester substitute teaching in a system that I hoped I might get a job offer to work in.  With Ryan still in school, we were ridiculously broke.  We still laugh about our Valentine's Date that year.  We did a cheap takeout pizza special, eating out of the pizza box in the car with a two liter of Coke and two straws, in the parking lot of the dollar theater.  We really wanted a real job.

I wanted a classroom and I needed an income.  So, when hiring time rolled around, I remembered the words of our university education advisors, letting us know that the state of KY had 18 applicants for every opening available at that time.  I applied all over the State and took the first job they offered me, which came from the first interview I had.

It really was a miracle that I got the job.  When I went for the interview that day, the hall was lined with other interviewees.  I knew my chances were slim.  It was a county where teaching positions open only upon death or retirement and there are always lots of homegrown candidates waiting for the jobs.   But God had a plan for me in that place.  As it turns out, the new principal at the school had a sister who had taught my husband in high school, 2 hours away.  The crazy thing was, she was one of my husband's favorite teachers and she thought pretty highly of him too.  I can't remember how we made the connection, but I do think it is the thing that brought my thin resume to the top.

There were 4 of us that year who were new.  All of us were fresh college graduates.   The decision was made to put 3 of us together and call it the 4th grade team.  Some principals would have cowered at the thought.  Not this one.  She treated us like we were her dream team.  We were teachable and instead of lamenting, she invested.  As a first year principal, she had dodged the administration bullet much longer than many of her colleagues had.  Though she was only a few years from retirement, she had a ton of energy and spunk. She wasn't your average teacher and she definitely wasn't your average administrator.  I think I knew it then, but I really know it now.

We spent a lot of time that year learning about the 7 multiple intelligences.  We were challenged to teach to a variety of learners, through a variety of methods.  We had trainings in kinesthetic movement, art, writing across the curriculum, and just about anything you can imagine to challenge us on how to get kids to learn in a variety of ways and to move beyond basic knowledge to higher level thinking skills.  As she got to know us, she poured resources into us so that we could grow in the areas we were most interested in.  I had the opportunity to go to lots of trainings in Language Arts because that we where my passion was.  After Abby was born, my first time leaving her alone was so that I could go to a conference on how to teach algebraic thinking skills in the elementary classroom.

Not only did she get us training, but she challenged us to "teach outside the box."  At the time, fourth grade was the time when students did units on state history.  Our little 3 teacher team followed her lead and wrote a grant our very first year.  They were doing an archaeological excavation in our town of a fort that had been an important part of KY history.  With her encouragement, we used our grant money to take the kids to the dig site and then research the fort and the period it was built in.  After that, the students proceeded to calculate and build a 1/10th scale model in the parking lot.  That's right...seventy fourth graders.  In the parking lot.  With hammers and nails and a 1/10th scale model of a fort.  Forts are big, y'all.  Even 1/10th of a fort is big.  Those that weren't on building duty rotated into other history based activities like candle dipping, folk dancing, making strawberry jam, and lots of other fun stuff.

You know what, those kids loved it.  And we loved it.  And there was some pretty darn authentic learning going on in that hallway.  I can't assure you that any of them finished 4th grade having memorized the state bird or knowing the state motto.  But by golly, they had gained so.much.more.

We had the longest planning times in the county.  The highest classroom budgets too.  I remember her telling me that the county administration questioned both.  But, she knew that to plan and prepare for authentic learning and to assess it in a way that isn't just multiple choice and matching took time.  So, she arranged our instructional schedules in a way that the kids had lots of arts and electives and we had more than 30 minutes of planning a day.  I don't remember her being stingy with anything... except the copier allowance.  She had to get that extra classroom budget money from somewhere.  And who needs worksheets anyway, when you're building a fort and writing about what you're learning?

I only had the privilege of working with that school and those people for two years before God called us to move to NC so that Ryan could continue his education.  But those two years made a significant impression on who I am, the kind of educator I am, and what I understand about how people learn.  I have carried those lessons with me everywhere I've gone.  Through 2 more public schools, 7 years of teaching in homeschool co-ops, 12 years of homeschooling my own children, and more Sunday School lessons than I can count, they have shaped the way I interact with students of all ages.
I am so thankful that God saw fit to put me in that tiny little tobacco town where the soil of my heart and mind were so wonderfully cultivated by such a brilliant educator.

So, Mary Jo Gibson, wherever you are, whatever you're doing, thank you.  Thank you for taking a risk and putting 3 newbies together and then leading us to believe that the sky was the limit.  Thank you for not settling for tidy classrooms with well-maintained columns of quiz grades.   Thank you for constantly pointing us back to the standards and asking us how we were going to meet them in ways that fostered a love of learning and addressed the needs of every child, not just the ones who were "good at school."  Thank you for teaching us that good grades don't always equal understanding.  What a gift you gave to me!