Meritorious Promotion...

 "Lance Corporal Kirby, what is the Max Effective Range of your M16?"

 - The Max Effective Range of my M16A2 service rifle is 550 meters at a Point Target and 800 meters at an Area Target, Sir.

Back in the bootbrush days, I could rattle off weaponry knowledge like it was nobody's business but mine. Indoctrinated in to the educational ways of Uncle Sam's Motorcyle Club - I was drinking the KoolAid and well versed on the knowledge necessary to impress the high brass. I knew the Max Effective Range of a number of really cool weapons of mass destruction. 

Since then, I've been able to avoid weekly haircuts and chilled out a bit. I shoot a shotgun now and again; have my deer rifle sighted in and even pull the trigger on a few pistols from time to time. I am familiar with their effectiveness and my capabilities. What I'm struggling with now is....

the Max Effective RANGE of my Teaching Ability.

Year 20 - yep, been doing this thing for 20 years already. It blows my mind. I still feel like the new guy in town but my name is listed on the front page of the seniority list and creeping closer and closer to the top with each retirement of those lucky bastards ahead of me. Yet, even with all this experience, nothing could have prepared me for Distance Learning. 

The gaps in education expose weakness. I serve on the frontlines in a community with poverty gaps that create inequalities in access to technology. Our district has made promises to provide devices and internet access to everyone and have fallen short of that promise. Yet the mandate remains unchanged.

The Good Marine in me just wants to follow orders and do what the High Brass says. In my heart I struggle with the morality of marking someone "absent" or counting school work against them knowing that if they were able to sit in my classroom, they'd be doing the work. It's the DISTANCE in Distance Learning that is the "Windage Compensation" that I can't adjust for. 

We're trying. We all are. We are reaching out to families. I'm wearing out my sneakers, marching from colleague to colleague to listen to their frustrations and vent mine. 

I'm regularly questioning the effectiveness of my delivery...just go away COVID and give me back my classroom!

I want to do a good job...I really do. 

Put it in perspective...

How was your first day of school, honey?

How do you feel about Distance Learning, Kirby?

Hybrid? Are we talking fishing, fuel efficient vehicles or some cockamamie idea that's going to change the face of education?

What COVID has taught me is that there are No Right Answers... get fixated that your day is going to go one way and you'll be justly slapped in the face and put in your place at some point. The rules of COVID are that there are no rules... things will arbitrarily pop in and out of our lives. New Lexicon,  new platforms, new delivery-  with higher expectations - in the middle of a Pandemic.

I feel like Brian Robeson of "Hatchet" fame... he unexpectedly had to learn how to fly the plane at 2,000 feet when his pilot kicked the bucket. Sure, the plane flew on for a while with a few dips and dives but Brian soon got the hang of it and was able to navigate his "new normal".

But the inevitable crept in - the plane would eventually run out of gas and he would need to become a Master of amphibious landings with no formal training. 

That's how I feel...I'm on a course that I'm unfamiliar with... I'm flying the plane but I'm not adequately prepared to be at the helm... for the meantime, things are managable but on the horizon is the inevitable... without some serious help and/or intervention from the man upstairs, we might be going down in a blaze of glory.

Or maybe I'm just having a bad day...

Things could be worse... anything is possible. 

OL - 5031 SEL: Strengthening Hearts and Minds

I'm knocking out a few online graduate level classes this summer. And when I say "this summer", I mean I'm cramming them in at the last moment before thier due date. Trying to accumulate enough credits to earn a salary advancement - seems a Catch 22 - pay now for expensive classes so that you can slowly recoup the costs in bi-weekly partial payments...but it's all good. I thought I'd share my "Reflection Paper" at the end of Module #3.... enjoy. - K

     My mentors in teaching always said, “Stick around education long enough and the pendulum will eventually swing”. We’ve been through portfolios, discovery learning, Daily 5, higher order thinking, Common Core, cooperative learning, Bloom’s Taxonomy, scaffolding, Six Traits and countless other buzzwords that were going to change the face of education. One to one technology initiatives have come and gone in the district in which I teach. At one point our school taught with homogenous grouped instruction. Say those words today and you’ll be reprimanded quicker than a New York minute. Entering my twentieth year of teaching, I have watched the proverbial pendulum swing more than once. Very little of the educational jargon has stuck or produced a long-term effect. Administrators change. Politicians change and policies change.  What I have learned is that at the very basis of education is the ART of Teaching. Teaching is an Art. I have a Bachelor of ARTS degree in Elementary Education. And the thing that makes the “art of teaching” so special is educators’ ability to build and maintain relationships that connect students and drive them to be the best versions of themselves. 

A few years ago I was having a conversation with an administrator that was just passing through on his road trip of a career. This fella was my age and had spent less than five years as a teacher in an actual classroom. We were discussing a 4th grade student that had become a major behavior concern and had given both of us a run for our money. Thinking I

had a captive and supportive audience, I let on to my principal that in my career I had learned that teaching students how to add and subtract fractions was less important than finding a way to connect with them and build relationships that foster a child’s desire to learn and do their very best. Now maybe I wasn’t as eloquent when I said it but that’s how I remember the intent of the conversation. Imagine my surprise later in the year while sitting in on a performance review with said administrator when he brought up that same conversation and used it as a strike against me and perhaps a reason for lower scores from my Math students. 

Remembering back to that year as one of the more challenging classes in my career, I contest that those scores reflected a class size over thirty students. The scores were a reflection of multiple new students moving into the district, specifically into our grade, thus changing the social dynamic of an otherwise peaceful classroom. The new students came from foster care, broken homes, and other childhood traumas that led them to acting out and attention seeking behavior that regularly disrupted the day to day intentions of our lessons. One of those students, not yet 10 years old, brought a knife to school and threatened a younger child on the bus. That confrontation is actually what led to the initial conversation that the principal and I had months earlier when I spoke of the need to “Build Relationships”.

That principal has since moved on, lasting three short years in our community. I’m still here, having served fifteen years as a 6th grade teacher and currently still teaching 4th graders. And I still hold fast to my personal belief that establishing trust and a shared respect between teachers and students is far more important and productive that focusing solely on the content areas and dumping of information on children. By teaching children that they are a valued person with important input that is necessary for the success of our class, I’ve learned to create workers that want to perform to their highest capabilities in order to receive that positive feedback and lifelong connection.

Now that we have an administration and school board that supports the direct instruction of Social Emotional Skills, it is a breath of fresh air and a great relief to know that dedicated time will be allotted and even expected to address the emotional needs of all of our students. The long term effect will be healthier and happier students, less negative behavior incidents and ideally, increased academic performance. Stick around long enough to see your former students mature into productive members of the community in which you live and you will be able to reflect on the real importance of an educational journey. Did it matter that I taught you what a declarative sentence was when you were 11 years old? Was it mandatory that you mastered the identification process of metamorphic rocks before you had ever reached the legal age to drive? Was learning about Ancient Mesopotamia more or less important than learning how to regulate our own emotions? Those content areas are a vehicle for establishing expectations, teaching responsibility and giving/earning trust. 

In completing this course I have learned that the pendulum is swinging in a direction that I can fully understand and support. States and local districts are recognizing the absolute need to teach self awareness, self management, social awareness, relationship skills and responsible decision making. Using the five Social and Emotional Competencies and explicitly teaching free-standing lessons to those points, will drive us to the desired outcomes of positive social behavior, fewer conduct issues, less emotional distress and lastly, improved academic performance. Teaching these skills throughout elementary school and into high school will produce adults that reflect positively on their educational journey. I have longed for the days when an equal amount of effort and resources are dedicated to teaching social skills as have been put on the academic core areas. It proves what professionals in the ART of education have known all along, we must teach the whole child. We have to reach them where they are and meet certain, basic social needs before we can teach other content. The pendulum is swinging and I think this time, it’s going to stick. 

Field of Dreams - not the movie but the Daycare.

In the daycare days of my children's upbringing, Lisa played a real important role in their young lives. We chose Lisa's daycare partly because her son, Isaiah, was in my 6th grade class at the time and partly because she had such a great location right on the edge of town - close enough to be convenient to the school and country enough to be a little bit country.

In full disclosure, a couple of reviews of Lisa's place weren't that flattering. A friend whose kids USED to go there, told us, "The kids are always outside!" - "The kids come home a mess every day!" She told us these things with such disdain that she couldn't believe we would subject our own kids to this torture. She was sure that we'd pull our kids and have them in some finishing school by week's end.

Thankfully her review was spot on and we're more so, grateful that we stuck it out all them years and developed such a great relationship with Lisa and her family at the "Field of Dreams" daycare. Our naysayer friend is kind of a Negative Nelly about a lot of things but what she viewed as unwelcome and unpleasant outcomes of being at Lisa's, we actually valued as productive and creative. Debbie Downer's assessment was correct. Our kids were outside constantly. Constantly playing ball. Constantly swinging and making up games. Constantly supervised and loved.

She was right. The kids came home a mess every day! A mess from playing in the sand or going on an adventure to Rab's farm to help pick apples and sticks. The kids were messy from arts and crafts time and exploring and creating and building. Often, they were tired and ready for bed but excited to go back to Lisa's the next day.

Fast forward a bunch of years to the present. Logan just passed 7th grade and thankfully doesn't need full time daycare anymore. We bought him a fishing pole. Emma, on the other hand, has returned to the "Field of Dreams Daycare", except now she's on the payroll. Emma is Lisa's helper. There to play with the older kids, affording Lisa time to tend to the infants or another cup of coffee. Emma helps with the sunscreen and sets the ground rules for the next game of tag or soccer. Emma helps with the meals and the diapers. She earns her keep by doing what the boss asks of her. And the kids love her there.

I picked up her up from work today and asked how things went. "Fine.", she replied.
"We crossed the ditch in to that field and ran in the fluffy dandelion things. Then we went to the back of the bean field and played for a while and jumped a couple of mallards out of the creek. It was a fun day."

I could just picture the kidlet crew at Field of Dreams daycare marching with Emma through the field of dandelion blowballs, dispersing the seeds in to the wind with laughter and smiles. I imagined that most of the youngsters trusted her navigation skills over the creek and back through the beanfields that she herself grew up around. I hoped that the parents picking up their loved ones for the day would appreciate that Emma and Lisa were sending the littles home with some sand in their ears and maybe some dirt on their toes not out of neglect but out of love.

The first thing Emma did after getting home from work and feeding her dog was to go to the tub to wash her feet.

I'd say that it was another succesful day at the "Field of Dreams".

UI

UI?

It's a simple 2 letter acronym. Rolls off the tounge fairly easy. I always think I'm saying it wrong because I know how to spell the Main word.
It doesn't even sound fun.

But I've got it.

Or am in the process and "pending determination" as they say in the Biz.

Yep - the Rush City Pool is officially closed for the summer. Darn COVID took my Cabana Boy status and washed it down the main drain. No swimming lessons to schedule and tend to. No ice cream treats and nachos to order and peddle to clientele. The Pool is closed. No more trips up and down the Big Slide. No regualr cat and mouse games in the lockerooms to close locker doors and shut off showers. No sunscreen and flipflop expenses associated with the dangers of being an Aquatic Facility Operator.

Whatever am I going to do?

No $ -

YET. I've applied for Unemployment for the first time in my life. Also for the first time in my life, I do not have gainful employment staring me down for the summer months. People always toss that out there in the Great Debate of teachers salaries and the benefits of earning the degree and title. "You've got your summers off!"

Um yeah, Never Have I Ever....

Well, until now. See, the plan is....apply for and see if Uncle Sam or Donald will approve of paying me to stay home. I've applied for a VA grant intended to soften the blow for Veteran's that have their income affected by COVID-19. I think i can check both of thsoe boxes. IF and that's a big "if" I can qualify and the money comes in, I will chafufeur the kids around to their respective commitments. I'll walk and bike away some of this Winter Weight (Winter on 2017 to be honest!) - I'll fish and travel as much as the gas tank and Michele will let me. I'll do what I can around the house and around the neighborhood to best be out of Michele's hair as she continues to Bring Home the Bacon.

If NOT - then it's back to the workforce I go...is 45 y/o too old to be applying for entry level physical labor jobs? Wash some dishes? Mow some lawns? Babysit? Lay concrete? I don't have the slightest clue....

But the bills won't stop coming. So hopefully a secision is on the horizon.

Today I cleaned up my classroom and checked out for the school year. 2019-2020 is in the rearview mirror....who know's what's ahead?

Average...

Some scholars consider Bemidji State University the "Harvard" of the MidWest. Now, I'm not one to brag and I've never even been to Harvard but I can say that I am proud of the Bachelors of Arts degree I earned in Elementary Education from the next Ivy League School up by the lake.

Looking back at my time at "Uni", I reminisce fondly on my freshman English class in Creative Writing. Perhaps it was the fact that I was 4 years older than most incoming freshmen and had life experiences and adventures in the Marine Corps to reflect on and share. Maybe that, combined with my willingness to be less worried about impressing people with my intelligence and more likely to baffle them with my bullshit. I honed my skills in prose at Harvard and by that, I mean BSU.

I'm actually a published author, albeit in outdoor periodicals that have since gone the way of the dinosaurs. Undeterred by that kiss of death, I like to annually throw out an often prolonged account of the ups of downs and ins and outs of our hunting seasons in the Lost River. Hunting buddies and family alike read and respond, probably just to placate my feelings.

The readship of this here Kirby Krew Blog are faithful to a fault. While living in the Arctic I wrote to ease my worried mind. The numbers checking in grew and grew. Although I initially kept up contributions after returning to the Lower 48, I eventually slacked off. All that it took was an International Pandemic for me to return pen to paper.

One faithful follower commented that I can "sure spin a yarn." Rumplestiltskin could lock me in a room and I'm confident that I could write my way out of the transaction.
*********************************************************************************

Oddly enough, one recent interaction with our local English teacher has me scratching my chin.

Earlier in the Fall while coaching the Junior High football squad, I introduced myself as an ally.  7th grade boys have traditionally struggled with due dates and 5 paragraph essays. As their coach I did my best to run interference. The young educator struggled gaining a grip on the middle schoolers in her charge. As I understand, that continued throughout the year. During the distance learning end to our school year, Michele and I have done our best to help Logan navigate her aggressive assignments and unpredictable expectations. (That's the nice way of saying, "I've been doing his English homework with him.")

Teachers have been sending regular progress reports throughout the school year. That has continued as kids work from home.You can imagine my surprise when I saw that Logan is earning a "C" in English... especially because I DID THE DAMN WORK SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO HIM!!

Michele laughs... I'm getting a C in 7th grade English.

A smile and a wave can make my day.

“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as a Michaelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, 'Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.”

Martin Luther King Jr. 

My friend Matt is the happiest, most agreeable guy you could ever meet. His mellow demeanor and gentle ways are natural and not forced in the least. It actually kind of goes against what you might expect from a Goalie Dad. The high stress world of watching your son try to stop all of the pucks typically makes others grey prematurally, turn to heavy drinking and sour on all things wrong with society. But not Matt. Matt is always there to offer a smile, lend an ear and just be a good friend.

He works for the city and he's always quick to notice our truck as we drive by his project for the day. My day is made with a friendly wave. Matt's always happy and that makes me happy. 

If you have questions about the happenings in our big little town - detours, road construction, city projects on the horizon - ask Matt. It looks like fun. Well, Matt makes it look like fun. I mean, driving heavy equipment and slogging around in the sludge on the mean streets of Pine City might be one of those Dirty Jobs that Mike Rowe would stop by and sink his hands in to. I'm sure at times it's no fun. You couldn't tell by watching Matt work. He's always smiling. 

Following an all night snow storm last winter, I was out shoveling our driveway as more snow fell. The city's snow plow took it's one pass down our dead end road and when I saw it was Matt at the wheel, I flagged him down on the way back by. I asked him how things were going and if the Boss had him on a strict schedule to tend to. Matt quickly read between the lines and offered to take a second pass up and down 7th Avenue, knowing that it would keep my elderly neighbors happy that we were plowed curb to curb. And of course he did so with another wave and a smile. 

Yesterday I heard the rumble of a streetsweeper make it's way on to our street. The COVID lockdown affects people in different ways. Some of you can relate to the little shot of happiness it gave me to watch my friend drive by in the fancy new machine. As it crept past our house, I jumped from the couch and stood at the front window like a kid watching the Zamboni driver through the glass. My wife began to laugh at me.

Down and back once. I thought he was done. 

At the 2nd Street intersection, I could hear that he was turning around for another pass. I missed the slow moving machine go past a third time because I was defending my excitement and joy to my wife who continued to rib me on the silliness. But when Matt came past again, I ran out on the porch and saluted him with the biggest wave I could muster. He immediately saw me and waved back with an equal wave. A wave and a smile that said, " I see you, friend." - the way only Matt can do. 

Of course Michaelangelo swung back around for a finishing pass and painted a streetsweeping masterpiece.