The Difference Between "Want" and "Need"

Life is full of transitions. As the holiday season kicks off in high gear, I'm reminded of one of the biggest transitions that virtually every child in America experiences at a critical point in their young lives. No, I am not talking about when the dream of Santa Claus is forever shattered. This is not a transition from broad fantasy to harsh reality - after all, Santa Claus or not, the gifts still flow . . .

Instead, this transition is more insidious due to its slow, and some would say stealth-like approach. In some cases, it may take years to fully manifest itself. The process begins in seemingly random and I am certain, sneaky fashion, perpetuated by parents and grandparents, with the occasional aunt or uncle dragged along for good measure. The transition? The slow and laborious change from toys under the Christmas tree, to clothing or other so-called "practical" gifts. No more Tonka trucks, chemistry sets, or Mr. Potato Heads. Instead, socks, pants, and the occasional packs of underwear begin to show up - things we are deemed to need, rather than to covet . . . Is there any more damning words to a child than "we thought you might need this?"

Though traumatized by my own transition from the safe and comfortable world of "wanting" something, to the harsh and cold reality of "needing" something, I have moved on in many ways. Most importantly, because I work in a school environment, the holidays hold a special meaning for me now - ultimately, even more satisfying than my former days of "want." For, in a school, there is nothing more exciting and fulfilling than the annual holiday concert.

This year, the holiday concert has even more of a special meaning for me. Due to the lack of a separate area for music in our school, the students in Mr. Burris' music classes conduct their rehearsals in the multi-purpose room just around the corner from my office. As a result, I have experienced each and every one of their rehearsals from their inception. Though I must admit their progress as singers and musicians to this point is remarkable, the road to the concert has not been without its share of bumps and rough spots.

Imagine if you will, kindergartners through sixth grade students not only learning to sing together in their various grades and groups, but also learning to play the recorder - though not at the same time. The variations in pitch, sound, and ability are staggering to ponder - and to listen to . . . From the high-pitched, near tweaking sounds of the kindergartners, to the roller coaster-like ups and downs of beginners playing the recorder, through the pre-pubescent voice changes of fifth and sixth grade boys, I have heard it all this year.

While I have strained at times to find hope for the future harmonies of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer", I can only admire Mr. Burris' efforts as their teacher. As I close the outer doors to the multi-purpose room and think seriously about purchasing a set of Bose headphones to drown out the sometimes withering sounds of first-time recorder players, I once again admire the commitment and hard work of music teachers around the world - and especially Mr. Burris. If I'm ever asked to vote for sainthood for anyone, every music teacher I have ever known will be right at the top of my list . . .

Despite the closed doors and threatened headphones, and despite the early renderings of the old favorites that force us to question just which season they are singing about, by concert time, all of the hard work by teachers and students inevitably pays off. With voices in tune, recorders responding dutifully, and Mr. Burris looking more relaxed than at any time during rehearsals, I have no doubt that Rudolph and the Dreidel song could ever sound better.

Everyone has their own special memories and feelings about the holidays. For me, next to being with my family, nothing says the holidays more than hearing the children singing. There's just something about seeing - and this year, hearing - all their time and effort bear fruit. Though my brain will forever be infused with the tunes they practiced daily - including the phrase, "You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch!" - it all fades away while sitting and listening to their actual performance.

Finally, unlike the afore-mentioned holiday traumas, the holiday programs in a school are something I both "want" and "need" to add to spirit of the season. However, I'm still hoping for one of those remote-controlled helicopters under the tree this year. I really want it . . .

Finding the "Thanks" in Thanksgiving . . .

I have often used this blog to communicate the life that surrounds and is within the Global School of Silicon Valley. As we approach the time of Thanksgiving, I wanted to pause for a moment and thank those people who make our school and our lives so much better.

The missive that follows is my annual Thanksgiving message to the faculty and staff. Though this year is different from the past in many ways, never have my thoughts been more genuine and heartfelt . . .

Despite the fact that the world around us seems currently overshadowed by uncertainty, I wanted to take a moment to share with you what I am truly thankful for this Thanksgiving season.

Topping that list would have to be our community here at the Global School. Through your own hard work, sweat, and even tears, you have crafted a place where our students are the center of our day, where their learning and growth are paramount, and most importantly, where they can be happy and joyful while exercising their intellect and discovering new things. Global School is a place that children cannot wait to get to on school day mornings, and cannot bear to leave at the end of the day. Few schools, if any, can boast the same.

I am thankful as well for each of you "veterans" - those of you who have been at the school from the beginning or near beginning. You have weathered a great deal in your time here, and I admire your strength, your resilience, and your aplomb. You have stayed for many reasons, but most of all, I like to think you have stayed because of the vision of the school and the students that we teach. I think it is obvious, that no matter how the chips may fall in the next few weeks, we will never again find a better combination of vision, community, and cooperation than we have right here. To your everlasting credit, we would never have achieved what we did here at Global School without your wisdom and experience - scars and all.

I am grateful also to the "newbies" - those of you who joined us this year. Your energy and enthusiasm had a galvanizing effect on everyone. Your ideas, initiatives, and just plain gumption - unencumbered by the strings of our past - have had a profound and positive impact on everyone. In joining our becalmed ship over the summer, you helped bring us new life and a clearer meaning to our mission.

Most importantly, all of you - either veteran or newbie - have more often than not, put aside the petty jealousies and bickering that so often characterize other schools, and have worked together - frequently in the face of great odds - to bring the school's vision to life. Indeed, each child who has had the privilege of attending Global School and working with you as their teachers, has had their own life enriched beyond measure.

If you recall nothing else from these Thanksgiving thoughts and meanderings, and certainly from your time here at Global School, please remember this always:

Each and everyone one of you has made your students' present and future richer for having been here and having learned from you. Though it may turn out that our time with them was brief, you have touched their minds and their spirits in innumerable and magical ways. Years from now, they will fondly recall their joy, their discoveries, and their teachers in the best of all possible lights. They will never forget their time at Global School and the time they spent with you.

Frankly, neither will I . . .

Happy Thanksgiving!

Bob

After You, Madame President . . .

As the election year in America begins to heat up, it's easy to get lost in all the rhetoric, mudslinging, and general blasts of hot air that are an inevitable part of our nation's electoral process. It seems as though every television channel and news website is dominated by the primary election hoopla that is sweeping the nation.

Interestingly enough, there is an oasis of electoral sanity in all of this crazy quest for votes - a place where good manners, sincere and thoughtful proposals, and good common sense prevail. It is also a place where the standards are high, and where the bar is set for the rest of the country to emulate - that idyllic spot is the Global School first grade classroom of Mrs. Pervez.

In order to help her students better understand how elections work, Mrs. Pervez organized some basic lessons and facts. As part of that discussion, she asked students to actually organize their own campaigns for the fictitious title of President of Global School. Each student worked to come up with a few campaign statements and pledges, designed a poster, and gave a speech before the assembled student body, followed by a final vote. With only three students in the class, the competition was destined to be intense. Thankfully, there were no debates . . .

The slogans that Royce, Madelyn, and Rheeya developed ranged from strong statements of personal qualities: "I am nice", I am cheerful!", and "I am smart", to promoting the practice of good manners - "I respect people", "I love people", and "I am helpful". One candidate of course, tried to summarize it all with "I am super", while another played to the patriotic angle with a "Vote for America" slant within their slogans.

Once the personal superlatives were out of the way, each candidate finally got down to brass tacks with their specific promises. Fully cognizant of where the majority of votes were to be found, the candidates went right for the political jugular. No vague promises of slashing the budget, dealing with foreign countries or regulating Wall Street - our first graders knew what the voters wanted to hear: "I will help you with your math", was my personal favorite - perhaps echoing my own greatest need.

The winning candidate however, pandered enough to her target populace to make most of the current crop of adult presidential candidates look like rank amateurs. Like the real-life candidates, her platform paid little attention to the need to pay for her promises, or the small practicalities of location and legalities. Instead, her slogan was simple, and embodied the essence and longing of every pre-teen's desire - especially in the hotter months of summer and fall - "If I become President, I will build a swimming pool!"

When the election was over, only one candidate was, to coin a term, "still floating". Throwing caution to the wind, but adding a nice historical twist to the process, the students and parents of Global School elected their first woman President. In her inaugural ceremony - thankfully minus the usual round of inaugural balls - President Rheeya was brief, yet graceful, in her victory and acceptance speech. In fact, her simple "thank you" may have set a record for clarity and brevity that will likely go untouched for decades.

Though most of the election excitement has subsided on the campus, and few if any students ask about the proposed pool - thank goodness! - there is still one notable perk that I like to think makes our new President's life a little better. At morning drop-off, I often assist the assigned teachers in helping to open car doors. Whenever possible each day, I make it a special point to greet Rheeya's car.

While it's not quite Secret Service-level protection, and no band is eagerly waiting nearby to launch a hearty rendition of "Hail to the Chief", my daily greeting as I open the door, "After you, Madame President . . ." seems to do the trick. Her quick, shy smile alone makes that simple phrase all the more worthwhile . . .

Waffling Allowed

A school's mission can be made evident in many ways. Some schools construct their buildings and campuses around the school's mission statement - open classrooms, large common areas, playing fields, art facilities, and more. Others make their mission known through banners, bumper stickers, or plaques around the school that spell out their purpose for being. Having been a part of schools that do all of the above, I can vouch for their usefulness and appropriateness in communicating the key elements of what they are all about.

However, never have I seen a school's mission articulated quite so well, as when it can be witnessed in action - not necessarily in a classroom environment such as you might see through a classroom observation of a particular teaching method or use of technology. Instead, I prefer to see the mission of a school come to life in the everyday lives of children. There is a very well known quote from a Torah study that says: "Character is what you do when no one is watching." For me the same is true for schools - if I were to paraphrase: "A school's mission is best observed when no one is watching."

Lest anyone think I am leading them down the paths of the paranormal, I am talking about those times, without teachers or other adults, when students actually practice and actively use the principles of a school's mission. Obviously, one has to observe them doing it, but it is in a situation where students forget they are being watched or better yet, couldn't care less. It is these times, and almost magical moments, where everything we work for as educators seems to come together.

Such a moment occurred recently in our after school program. With sometimes a dozen or more students of all ages coming together after a long day of classes, you never quite know what to expect. On this particular day, Mrs. Nancy Young, the After School Coordinator, brought out a box of over sized and multi-colored waffle blocks for any interested students. With students from ages 5 to 12, chances were good that at least someone would be interested.

Slowly but surely, a few students started to take the blocks from the box. Soon, they were joined by others, and the rest of the dozen or so students slowly gravitated over to join in. Without a clear leader, there arose a general agreement that some sort of tall tower should be erected and the work began. Again, without an alpha figure rising to dominate, there was a consensus to try and pattern the colors. Repeatedly, comments were suggested and decisions reached without rancor and most importantly, without regard for the various ages and abilities. Finally, the tower was judged to be finished and the same seamless process continued with new project after new project.

I will be the first to admit that on the surface having a group of students build a waffle-block tower together is not going to cause a rewrite of the tenets of progressive education. However, to see these students work cooperatively and politely with each other, was a true sight to behold. Without regard to each others' ages, heights - imagine the differences between a five year old and a twelve year old - and other limitations that we as adults might perceive, these students cast aside all of the normal impediments and worked together towards a common goal. They were not coached or rewarded, and no suggestions from outside their peer group were made or solicited. In fact, engrossed in their work, they were oblivious to anyone older than themselves.

At Global School, we see the future as a place and time requiring the daily practices of group cooperation and hands-on problem-solving. Our teachers constantly strive to practice and instill those beliefs in our students and in our school community. To see it all come together in a simple after school activity is both a source of pride and a bit overwhelming.

Our various and sundry after school builders may not change the world with their waffle blocks and towers, but they can and will change that same world with their attitude, skills, and cooperation learned during their time with us.

Mission accomplished!

Whole Latte Love

No pun intended - there is an art to working with and teaching children. As a teacher, you must first of all be passionate about children, and of course, passionate and knowledgeable about your subject. With all that passion and knowledge, ultimately, a teacher must be able to teach, to engage, and most of all, allow his or her students to learn. By allowing students to learn, a good teacher knows when to lecture, when to solicit individual student or class participation, and when to simply get out of the way and let students create. Such are the everyday occurrences in each of the classrooms at Global School, but one classroom in particular takes these tenets to a higher level.

Most of us in our early school art class experiences can remember being asked to draw or paint the obligatory vase of flowers or bowl of fruit. Taught by either the regular classroom teacher or by a wandering "art gypsy", the classes were often sporadic or lacking in any real focus. In my own case, one of my art teachers was fixated on Warner Brothers cartoons and we were asked to draw various popular characters - repeatedly. I became the class expert at drawing Tweety Bird. To this day, it is a life skill I will always cherish . . .

Tweety Bird expert or not, today, many children do not even receive the opportunity to draw the bowl of fruit. As school budgets are cut and trimmed, art classes are often among the first to fall under the axe. If not eliminated completely, the number of students in each class is dramatically raised to the point where individual creativity is often stifled in the name of uniformity or simply getting things done.

At Global School, art teacher, Jenny Dickson-Child, moved away from the bowl of fruit long ago, and I am not sure she appreciates Tweety Bird the way I do. What she does appreciate, is that students must become invested in art. To her, art is not simply line drawings or finger painting. Instead, it is also about space, texture, and materials. It is learning about the great and not-so-great artists of the past, as well as the present - not to copy or emulate them - but to help students understand how a particular style or artistic vision came to be.

Whether it be Picasso, Monet or Whistler, students of all grades are introduced to the artist and asked to "be" that artist for the duration of the study. Though thankfully, no one has been asked to slice off their ear in support of this teaching method, students have, among other techniques, lain on the floor to practice charcoal drawings in the style of the bed-ridden Matisse - the end result of which was quite fun and remarkable in its quality. Most of all, Ms. Jenny believes that all art should be shared everywhere and anywhere it can be appreciated. The halls, classrooms, and byways of Global School are a testament to this generous impulse.

Through an earlier blog, most of you know that the students at the school recently painted portraits of area firemen as part of a well-mounted joint project with our local Bank of America to "Honor Our Heroes." Though lacking a bit of the heroic aspect of their earlier work, second, third and fourth grade students recently prepared some additional work for display outside our campus.

Asked to explore the works of native California artist, Wayne Thiebaud, the students were engaged to paint a still-life. The pieces they created were a mix of acrylic paintings, mixed media works (paint and pastels), and collage. No regular bowl of fruit here - instead, students painted cupcakes. Forget the art, for students to overcome the urge to eat the cupcakes before they finished their pieces, was a huge achievement in and of itself. Invited frequently to visit classes throughout the day, I am trying not to take it personally that I was not asked to drop by during this particular lesson . . .

Steeling themselves against the pangs of pre-adolescent hunger, the students completed remarkable work. Excited as always over her students' success, Ms. Jenny arranged for the work to be displayed for a few days at Barefoot Coffee - a local business very close to the school. There, patrons - and not a few parents - are treated to a remarkable array of cupcakes and other bakery delights, the likes of which few long-time artists and students could rival.

Whether laying on the floor with a charcoal pencil taped to a broomstick or drooling over a cupcake still-life, it's clear that Ms. Jenny loves her students and her work. As a result, her students are thoroughly involved in the learning process. Exposed to a seemingly endless supply of artists to learn from - including their teacher - they each produce remarkable work, no matter their age. Their learning experience is active, engaging, and fun - the way all learning should be. The formula is simple: passionate and involved teachers = passionate and involved students. Welcome to Global School!

Dioramas, Dinosaurs, and the Occasional Odd Penguin . . .

I am a huge fan of technology. While I am still in my semi-confessional mode, I might as well admit that I can fairly be termed a "gadget guy." Though I have certainly been called worse in my time, I wear this badge proudly. I am the guy - some would say "sucker" - they make new gadgets and technologies for. Some day the Smithsonian will ask to look into my garage for a running record of technological progress among my abandoned Zunes, Ataris, and other long outdated technologies. I still maintain that Pong and Asteroids were the best video games ever invented . . .

"Gadget guy" persona aside, there can be no doubt that technology and computers have transformed education. From improving communication through tools such as emails and even this blog, to enhancing a school's marketing and exposure to a broader world through websites and in-house publishing, and finally to students making power point presentations, and in some cases programming their own applications, computers and the benefits of technology fill our schools.

However, every once in awhile there is a project or assignment that harkens back to an earlier time. A time when using your hands meant more than typing on a keyboard or furiously pushing buttons on a controller to avoid annihilation by zombies or aliens. Such was the case recently in Ms. Debbie's second grade classroom. The assignment was simple and direct: each student was asked to build an old-fashioned diorama of an ecosystem. This assignment tied in nicely with their earlier work with Mr. Crump from the Tech Academy.

A simple, shoe box diorama of an ecosystem. No power point, no sound effects, and certainly no film or movies. Animals in the planned ecosystem could be store-bought or self-made - Play-Doh was an early favorite - and students were to draw and color the majority of the backgrounds themselves.

To say that I was pleased as the students took the time to share with me their final product would be a huge understatement. Recalling my own "dioramic" experiences during elementary school, I could appreciate their efforts at planning, drawing, and even gluing down the final pieces and parts to make their picture complete. Of course, nothing could compare to the pride and excitement they could not hide as they shared their projects with me. From dinosaurs to the arctic, from ocean environments to the rites of spring, and finally, to ponds and pools, their efforts spanned the full range of ecosystem possibilities - each contained within the confines of a simple shoebox.

Interestingly, the level of their excitement was the one thing that stood out most to me. I have observed these same students working on a range of projects in these early months of school, but none have engendered the pure joy and light in their eyes of these simple dioramas. Some of them were so excited in sharing their work with me that they were not insulted in the least when I mistakenly identified what I thought was a Play-Doh stegosaurus in one of the dioramas. This particular student gently placed his hand on my arm and informed me "that's a sleeping penguin, Mr. Graves." Believe me, that was a close one . . .

Several recent studies have pointed out a common fear that today's students are no longer being asked to use their hands for projects that a lot us once took for granted. Due to our heavy use and reliance on technology - for good or bad - young people today are rarely called upon to take apart something to see how it works. These academic studies suggest that basic activities such as learning to tie knots, building models, and even something once so universal as outdoor camping, have all fallen by the wayside in our preference for working/playing on a computer or utilizing other forms of technology to perform such tasks for us.

So it is even more remarkable when a project like Ms. Debbie's second grade dioramas are able to grasp the total attention and concentration of her class. Beyond their focus on doing something by hand, the joy of displaying their self-made projects is worth at least ten iPads . . .

Somewhere in the universe or twitterverse, or whatever we choose to call it, I'm certain - to borrow a phrase - "there's an app for that!" However, every once in awhile, I prefer to throw caution - and modern life - to the wind, and simply believe instead, that "there's a shoebox for that!"

Better Learning Through Chemistry

From the 1930's well into the 1980's, DuPont Chemical Company's marketing theme was "Better Things for Better Living . . . Through Chemistry." Shortened in the popular mind to "Better Living Through Chemistry", the simplicity and natural ring of the truncated version remains popular today. I believe that this same phrase continues to have great meaning for those of us involved in the lives of schools. Already co-opted once as an advertising slogan, I propose a new catch version for schools: "Better Learning Through Chemistry."

It is the chemistry or mix of people throughout the school - from students to parents, to faculty and staff - that helps define a school's effectiveness in delivering on its vision and mission. More importantly, the right chemistry amongst a school community means that students benefit the most from a system that not only provides for their academic needs, but also for their support, understanding, and motivation as they move forward.

"Chemistry", for a school community can be defined as a certain mix of essential elements or traits that all members of a community should possess to one degree or another. These elements include a true passion for education and working with children, a dedication to these same children and to implementing and supporting the mission of the school, and a willingness to work cooperatively with others. The phrase "plays well with others", applies here not only to the children, but to the parents and faculty as well. I have met plenty of people over the years full of passion and dedication to working with children, but who lack the vital "molecule" of cooperation. The end result for a school is often a fraying of the mission, an uneven educational experience for the children, and oftentimes, a strain on the entire community.

This is not to say that school communities should all move forward in lockstep with each of us acting, dressing, and spouting the same words. On the contrary, good chemistry for a school means embracing the differences in personality, methodologies, and experiences that make up a community. As long as the fundamentals mentioned above are in place - passion, dedication, and cooperation - the groundwork is laid for a successful school.

When in sync and working in the students' best interests, classrooms are true centers of learning and involvement. The focus for all concerned is then what is best for the student, and the community has a palpable and positive feel about it. Students are learning - and enjoying the experience; parents are partners with the school -  participating in their children's education and sharing the school with others outside - and faculty and staff are excited about what they do and are constantly challenging themselves to do better. The learning experience in this type of atmosphere is not a rote, and sometimes tortuous exercise in frustration and futility. Instead, everyone's focus is on the mission of the school and the students themselves.

The difficulty in seeking this balance, however, is always identifying and dealing with those elements that make it harder for the right chemistry to work. A less than passionate teacher, a disgruntled and overly demanding parent, or a child who is clearly acting out their desire to be somewhere else, are but a few examples of these destructive attitudes for a school community. The best communities therefore, consider the overall community first and foremost when hiring, admitting, or adding to the school as a whole - ultimately in all of their decisions.

It is hard work to first build, and then maintain, the good chemistry required in a school community. Pulling together the various elements essential to the learning process, nurturing them, and ultimately, protecting them from forces that would tear them apart, are arduous and frequently daunting tasks. Though difficult at times, the ultimate reward of operating a true learning community makes the effort more than worthwhile. For a school to be fully successful to its mission and its community, we should expect nothing less.

While I'm in the business of borrowing advertising phrases, let's try this:

"Better Learning Through Chemistry" - it's not a job, it's an adventure!

Never Trust a Smiling Kindergartner . . .

You would think after all these years of being involved in schools, that I would have learned . . .

I love to visit the various classrooms in our school throughout the day. Most of the time, my appearances are simple drop-in to see how things are going. At other times, my visits are easily disguised as therapy sessions for myself as I escape whatever paperwork, upset parent, or difficult decision I may soon have to make. There's nothing that tops seeing young children participating and enjoying the learning process. Some of my best classroom visits have been when I am invited to read to a class, help with an art project, or even tag along on a field trip.

So it was with no unusual expectations on my part when I was recently asked to visit Ms. Clark's kindergarten class to help them with their latest science project. The children had been studying the sensations of taste - sweet, sour, bitter, and salty - and had been sampling a bit of each. If you think you know where this is going, you are ahead of where I was as I walked into the room.

You see, all of the signs of a potential ambush were there - and I missed them. There was the serious pretense of a science lesson - what could be more fun than hands-on science with kindergartners? There was also the alleged sincerity of Ms. Clark's invitation - "the children will love to have you stop by!" Finally, there was the excitement of the children themselves as I entered the room. Actually, the term "excitement" in this case is a bit of an understatement - they were actually beside themselves with barely suppressed glee and giddiness. I should have suspected something when several of them covered their mouths to keep from laughing as I sat down at a desk. Though there were alarm bells ringing everywhere in my brain, I rashly assumed they were simply having a good time and were glad to have me stop by. Little did I know how glad they really were . . .

Upon my seating, their mad scientist leader - otherwise known as Ms. Clark - explained their project and began the process of having me sample a taste from each of the four categories. As I recall now through the pain of my memory of the "incident", things started out rather nicely with the taste of a sour gummy worm. This was soon followed by the taste of a salty potato chip. Having experienced these two very intense taste sensations, I was delighted to see the next offering of a rather large Hershey chocolate square being presented to me. Once again, enraptured by my own anticipation of sweet chocolate wiping away the sour and salty tastes of its predecessor, I missed the most obvious warning signs of all - virtually all of the kindergartners literally guffawing as I raised the chocolate to my mouth.

To quote and paraphrase some of my favorite lines from Ernest Thayer's "Casey at the Bat":

     Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
     The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.
     And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout:
     But there is no joy at Global School - Mr. Graves ate baking chocolate . . . .

Actually, as you can imagine, there was great joy in Global School - at least in the kindergarten classroom. As I tried my best to avoid contorting my face in absolute agony over the most bitter tasting experience of my life, the children finally let loose an equal amount of energy with their laughter. It was hard to see through the veil of tears cascading down my face - I was bound and determined to swallow the darn thing - but I will always swear there were a few students literally rolling on the ground with laughter.

If there are lessons to be learned from this, I think I would have to start with my own vow to be more cautious in accepting random classroom invitations in the future. I'll still go of course, but I may demand a thorough search of the premises, as well as some kind of facial recognition software to help identify a set-up as early as possible. I've also added baking chocolate to my list of items left over on the seventh day after God created the earth. Its now right there at the top of the list with beets and brussell sprouts . . .

All personal trauma aside, the kindergartners had a great time. Though it was obviously at my expense, we now have a great bonding experience that will never go away. Nary a day goes by without the same request from a smiling kindergartner: "want a piece of chocolate, Mr. Graves?" I have to admit I enjoy the question, if not the memory . . .

Last but not least, if there is a personal upside to this otherwise traumatic experience, it is that the entire post-Halloween candy eating experience this year was easier for me to get through. After all, how can I ever trust chocolate again . . .

 

Measure Twice, Cut Once . . .

Perhaps the most valuable piece of advice I ever received from my father, next to "don't stick your finger in that socket!", was the simple phrase - "measure twice, cut once." While obviously first intended for the construction trades, it now has wide applicability in many areas - rereading or proofing before sending email, double-checking budget figures, etc. In short: slow down, take the time to do things right, and be certain you have thought of everything before issuing the final product. Hard to argue with a saying like that.

But I digress . . .

As Head of a small, but growing elementary school, there are numerous challenges that pop up on a daily basis that larger and better staffed schools never need worry about. From clogged toilets to sick children; stray cats to burned out light bulbs, when there is no maintenance staff - everyone at the school is a member of the maintenance staff. Add to this semi-exclusive club, the occasional need for a male presence - there are only two of us on board full-time - and the situations requiring my own involvement seem to double. Cleaning up the occasional blood spill aside, it was just this opportunity for hands on involvement at all levels of the school that was one of the primary attractions for me for this position. Where else can you have lofty and ethereal discussions about curriculum and the value of cursive writing in one moment, and be removing a dead mouse from the trap in the faculty lounge the next? I love every minute of it!

Though dead mice are frankly - and thankfully - a rare sight around the halls of Global School, the sheer numbers of physical tasks around the campus, both small and large, dictated a new strategy to deal with them. To that end, I joined forces with our Physical Education teacher, Ben Maxwell, to try and anticipate and organize the various odd jobs we needed to complete. This works fine with what we know is coming - a truckload of books to be emptied and sorted, playground equipment to be assembled, etc. However, we had to be on call throughout the day in case anything unplanned popped up - from rounding up runaway crickets, rousting a homeless guy sleeping on the playing fields, to helping the trash collectors with overflowing garbage bags - no task is too small or too rank for us to handle.

Proud of our endeavors and willingness to leap into the breach at the first flicker of a failing light bulb, Ben and I "semi-incorporated" our efforts into the moniker "B and B Construction." While I am certain that numerous members of the staff would be willing to create, or perhaps already have created slogans for us - we have only this: "Call Us." With no fancy tools to be had, and, like most males, rarely feeling the need to read the instruction manuals, we forge ahead, confident that the true value of a good hard shove or shake, or perhaps simply brute force, is usually underestimated, yet can almost always get the job done.

Shy of fancy t-shirts with logos or much self-promotion, we ask only for the occasional challenge of assembling a Little Tikes playhouse, restoring a door falling off its hinges, or perhaps simply fixing a broken chair. All kidding aside, the chance to work with children every day in the classroom, as well as helping that classroom and the entire school function well enough to support their learning, is a rare and enjoyable opportunity.

Finally, though some would say that "B and B's" motto would be better served by "shove twice and ram once", Ben and I are confident enough in our own semi-professional work and limited skills to forego any franchising possibilities and just remain at Global School.

After all, who else would remove the dead mice . . .