A few thoughts on collegiality and a story about wrecking the homecoming float

My career began in 1999 at Simonsen 9th grade center in Jefferson City, and I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I was overwhelmed, partially because of a homecoming float. The principal offered to “sweeten the pot” on my salary if I agreed to be stuco sponsor. That allowed me to bring home an extra $36 a month, but it came with expectations- the freshman class always won the homecoming float contest.

I became obsessed- not with classroom management or assessment, but with float construction. I spent hours placing pomp in chicken wire with a student named Terrance and his cohorts. On parade day our entry was solid, with a skirt that read “Jays Beat the Eagles.” Controversy surrounded who would ride as the mascot, but I stuck to my guns (I got paid big dollars to set the starting lineup for the frosh float) and Terrance suited up as Jasper the Jay. We took off down the parade route, pulling the float behind my Mazda pickup- bound for glory.

At the first turn, disaster struck. I cut the corner too sharp. The trailer rocked. The skirt caught the curb. Soon the pomp read “ ays  eat the gles!” Terrance almost went to the emergency room.

I felt like a failure. 

In the classroom, it wasn’t much better. I didn’t know very much, but I hoped if I could keep the 14 year olds busy, they wouldn’t eat me. During the first quarter the kids did 17 worksheets a day and we read half the literature anthology. I spent every minute I wasn’t building floats grading each of the 17 worksheets my 120 students did everyday.

Fortunately, talented educators intervened. The chair of the English department, Laramie Thompson, and my mentor, Kim Sellers, are two of the most thoughtful teachers I’ve known. They took time to speak wisdom about what was worth stressing over and what wasn’t. Laramie showed me what leadership looked like. She ensured each of the 700 freshman were challenged and supported in their growth as readers and writers. There were six English teachers in our department and our time together was focused on student learning. We didn’t always agree, but we did work together to craft common assessments and evaluate data. Years later I went to my first PLC meeting- I was convinced that someone had stolen all of Laramie’s ideas.

I left Simonsen for coaching opportunities. I taught in great schools with talented staffs, but I did not find the same professional challenge and support I experienced at Simonsen. Camaraderie existed, but not the same level of professional collegiality. We met for administrator led meetings and at lunch to share grievances, but we did not have deep, teacher led conversations about teaching and learning.

Fortunately, I found that same level of collegiality again before leaving the classroom at Harrisburg Middle School. Teachers had real conversations about supporting and challenging our kids, which included a significant number of students in foster care. As a staff we worked to ensure our school was a great place for all students to learn, regardless of their life experiences. Our conversations were collegial, centered on work, not grievances. We didn’t always agree, but we worked together for the kids. I remember my friend Brian’s response to the suggestion that the staff be on the same page: “That’s fine, but maybe we should be on the page the kids need.” The point was taken. In the end, the work, guided by collegiality, produced a strong sense of camaraderie. We were serving our students well and we knew it.

I’m not as involved in building level work as I used to be. Busses, budgets, and building maintenance dominate my workdays. I miss the collegiality and camaraderie of teachers when they are focused on teaching and learning. As much as I can, I try to support practices that allow those conversations to take place.  Good collaborative work is occurring in the Norborne district right now. I’m thankful for the experiences I had as a teacher that allow me to recognize it.