Reflections

I was once thanked for being "human". Until a recent family vacation, perhaps, I didn't understand what a compliment that was. Over the course of five days, my only role was traveler. I wasn't a school administrator, a former teacher or even a connected educator. Nearly no one I interacted with knew much more about me than what my boarding pass or reservation might list. I was just a visitor. Over the course of those five days, I had to rely on help from others including strangers.  I've grown used to being in the role of helper but was suddenly seeing tables turned. I hadn't planned on needing help or reaching out but did, had to.  I became violently ill (food poisoning!) while on vacation and no amount of positive thinking on my part was helping the symptoms. The University Medical Center in Las Vegas became a stop on my sights to see itinerary. I'm thankful for the ER nurses that helped, the patient doctor, one security guard, and the Lyft driver t...

A guest post by Erin McMahon, M.S., BCBA, LBA and Mom Dear Sweet Girl, Thank you for being my child. You completed our family, made me a mother of two. You changed who I am and how I see the world- how I see other kids and how I view education. You inspire me. I wouldn't have ordered a kid with autism if I had the choice seven long years ago. I wouldn't order anyone who wasn't you now. I existed pretty cluelessly in the neurotypical world. Things are easier there, or at least more predictable. And I love predictable- making lists, planning everything, following the rules. Except the rules didn't work with you. With your sister, the warning of a time out would curb any thought of “bad” behavior but with you this respected and recommended strategy was a joke. I doubted my abilities as your parent. I went to see your pediatrician, an older man who listened and told me to set firmer boundaries and lay down the law. You vetoed that law. You were a mystery,...

In many schools, this time of year is the start of annual review season for students with IEPs (Individualized Educational Programs) . It can also be the time when students begin to show some difficulty in current placements and teams grow justifiably concerned about supports. The difficulties can be for a variety of reasons but I'm finding that some of the phrases I hear (occasionally) about student decisions are similar and it's causing me pause. I am not new to the field of special education. I will fully admit that I bring some past practice, history and maybe even baggage to the position. I am that person that believes in 100 chances for kids. I fully admit that it can be easier for me to believe in so many chances as I am not the one assigned to support that child directly day to day, minute to minute. I am, however, assigned to advocate for that child...and all of the others. This is a responsibility I don't take lightly. Instead of hearing at the onset of how...

I think being a parent helps me be a better leader. Yet, I think being a leader hurts me as a parent sometimes. Since becoming a Mom, it is easier to put myself in the shoes of some of the parents I interact with. When I do interact with a parent that is upset, I am usually able to remind myself that if I were in his or her shoes, I'd likely respond the same way with the information that I had about a particular situation. But, as a parent with a background in education, I can worry too much about my son and his school experience. In some cases, I bring more experience (that can inform my view) to some conversations when it comes to assessment, learning, instruction and more. I will get stuck on pieces of information and usually try to walk a fine line between being a Mom and being a leader. If I see something that is not reflective of current best practice, I'll want to fix it --- but sometimes it's not mine to fix. It's rarely easy and I am thankful for the  many...

Thankfully, I am inspired on a daily basis by members of my PLN. I've spent some time on and off this weekend catching up on new year's resolutions set by many of them as well as #oneword declarations. Last year, I wrote about my one word and it was COURAGE.   Wow, did I embrace that word or what this past year? I'd say leaving a district you've been a part of for over 10 years to jump into a brand new one is a testament of courage! For this year, my word is a bit more cryptic. I've chosen BALANCE. I need to find balance in my role in this incredible, new district. I want to be more deliberate about honoring what has been done well while helping to move forward in other areas. I want to positively contribute to supporting teachers, principals and most of all, students in our district.  I need to find balance as a Mom. It's hit me pretty hard that time has indeed been flying by all of these years. I'm having a hard time figuring out when it is ...

A collaborative post by Tony Sinanis and Lisa Meade When you look back on the order of events, it may not make much sense to those in our worlds. We were both successful principals leading amazing teams in our incredible schools. We worked with kids who were excited to come to school, with families who were proud  to share their children with us and educators who put kids at the center of every decision. We felt highly capable in our positions. The principalship allowed us to impact a myriad of decisions, shape the trajectory of a community and nurture a culture of learning for adults and students. We were inspired by the work of other principals in our PLN and kept raising the bar with new ideas and approaches in our buildings because we knew we had to model what we hoped for our in our communities… being learners first and teachers second! As we begin thinking about what 2017 has in store for us, we paused to think about where we both were a year ago when we were thinki...

I am always struck by how much a story sticks with me. Sure, I remember parts of the research and reasons why certain strategies are better to use than others. But, words from personal experience always stick with me. At a recent PD session with an incredible facilitator, the power of a story was there. He told the group about his own schooling story (I won't give it away here as it is not mine to tell) and it just didn't seem plausible. How could the boy in his story be the same man that stood before us? But, he was. He is. His story is what he brings to his work and gives it color and heart. I've written about parts of my own story before and the bias it can cause me to bring to my practice. But, it's not really a bias. It can become the context. As educators, we each bring different experiences to our practice. What we've been through impacts decisions we make in the future. What we've seen with our own eyes gives us hope for new similar situations. W...