On February 7, 2014, the 8th grade at my school completed their first two week “Winterupt†experience. We pushed hard for the opportunity to do this—basically taking two weeks off from regular classes to do school differently (and better!). It has been a ton of work over the last year, but thanks to my incredible colleagues, we pulled it off successfully. (Despite school closures throwing all our plans into disarray.)
During the first week students were immersed in their foreign language. (I don’t have any media here to illustrate that week yet because while they were doing that, I was with the design thinking team madly working out our plans for the second week. I’m hoping to dig something up from the language team.) During the second week, students engaged in a design thinking challenge where they re-imagined the playground space outside the middle school. The short movie below was thrown together by a colleague from some photos during the first few days of the project. The slide show includes a picture of each model (built from start to finish in two days!) along with the team’s mission statement.
It’s been a very busy month around here so the blog has been neglected. Here are some of the highlights:
Sarah’s birthday!
Unbelievably cold weather. I wrote a post about the cold in December, but that was nothing. On January 6, the Governor officially closed all the schools in the state due to the cold for the first time since 1997. That was the first of a string of ultra-cold days. Local public schools have missed five days already this month due to dangerously cold temperatures; these were not snow days. At SPA (my school) we missed only 4 ½ days because we reopened at noon on one of the days. This many lost days is unprecedented in the memories of my veteran colleagues.  We’ve had multiple days where the high temperature was below zero, and wind chills in the Twin Cities have dipped into the -40s. Crazy! With that said, I’m pleased to note that my cold weather gear is handling it marvelously — those ski goggles are getting far more use than usual!
Griffin and Daddy, ready for the wrath of Boreas
Sandy’s shoulder surgery. My mom, Sandy, (usually known as “Grummy” around here) had shoulder surgery at the beginning of the month. Recovery looked very good for 24 hours, then very bad for another 24, and a slow but steady recovery since then. I flew out for MLK weekend and had a wonderful visit despite the struggles.
“Winterupt.” At SPA we’ve launched a new two-week program for 8th graders called Winterupt. (See the announcement letter I wrote to 8th grade families if you’d like more info; it’s a bit PR sounding, but it gives a good overview.) It’s been a ton of work and we’re only half-way through, but the first week has been outstanding. I feel lucky to work with an amazing team of educators who make this whole thing come alive. Today I simply had a blast doing my job. In the course of a few hours this afternoon I got to play with legos, tromp around in the snow with 80 kids (taking measurements and trying to locate hidden rubber ducks), assist students in creating accurate scale sketches of our playground, blast great music, and try to get a cookie from my forehead to my mouth without using my hands (I succeeded, but then had to spit the cookie out because I’m not eating sugar and flour right now, see below).
Whole30. Sarah and I are almost done with our second Whole30 program. It’s basically 30-days where you don’t eat or drink sugar, grains, dairy or legumes. This is, obviously, a royal pain in the ass, but it’s worth it. We’ve both experienced it a bit differently this time around. Sarah has been less excited about it this year, and is definitely ready for day 30 (next week). I, too, am a bit fatigued by it (I had to spit out an oreo, grrr) but have mostly found it to be far easier than last year. In particular I like how it resets my appetite, makes food more about sustenance than emotional satisfaction, and makes me pay more attention to what I’m eating.
Escargot! The cafeteria today featured food from France and China (this connects to the language immersion component of Winterupt, and our cafeteria is awesome.) I had never had escargot before, and there it was for the taking. At first I was a bit leery, but then I saw some of my students heading back for seconds. If they could try something new, so could I. Overall impression… not bad. Loved the garlic sauce. Reminded me of shellfish or octopus—the chewy texture. Will definitely try it again some time. (Note that technically this broke some Whole30 rules because I think it was soaked in butter, but trying somewhat legendary cuisine trumped the fine print.)
I often work late at school and my desk is somewhat out of sight so I sometimes overhear students talking about things Not Meant for Teacher Ears. Usually this merely piques my anthropological interest. Occasionally, however, I overhear something that requires intervention. Or not. Consider a recent incident:
My grading trance is interrupted by an unknown boy saying sarcastically to another, “Your hair looks like Ethiopia!” Sigh… I’m not sure what this means, but it can’t be good — somewhere on the spectrum from ignorantly inappropriate to overtly racist. The student repeats it, louder, “Seriously, your hair looks like ETHIOPIA!” The other student makes an unintelligible, but baffled-sounding response, while I get up and head to the commons with my stern face. As I round the bend, he repeats it a third time, “Your hair really looks like Ethiopia…” I’m surprised to see a seventh grader who didn’t strike me as the type to say this sort of thing — he’s a sophisticated, culturally sensitive boy. I open my mouth, preparing to Summon him to a Conversation, when he continues, “…see, it’s kinda round here and has a thing sticking out on the right, just like we learned in geography!” I close my mouth and they walk onward, discussing the shape of Ethiopia and other nearby countries.
I returned yesterday from an awesome week at Camp Widjiwagan on the shore of Burntside Lake, way up north on the edge of the Boundary Waters. Â I was one of the teacher/chaperons for 35 seventh graders. Â Highlights included:
Cold!  Snow!  Daytime highs were just above zero for the first few days.  (At 7 am Wednesday, the air temp was -24 as I walked to the washhouse to brush my teeth.)  Snow off the trails was often thigh deep.  Remarkably, it was pretty easy to adapt to the temperatures.  The staff gave a great presentation on how to dress, and I never even used my heaviest down coat — I preferred multiple layers of long-johns, fleece, and a wool sweater (with a windbreaker layer on top).
Cross-country skiing. My first time, and I really enjoyed it. Â I joined the kids Tuesday morning for a beginner lesson. Â On Wednesday I went on a longer ski with the adults. Â I generally did alright on the flat trails and climbing hills (awkward, but successful), but going down hills was tough. Â I still don’t quite understand how to control speed and direction on a narrow trail.
Snow-shoeing. We went out for a fairly long snow-shoeing hike and my legs are still sore. Â Next year I think I’ll bring my own snowshoes which are lighter than the ones at the camp (I plan on taking them out for a long walk tonight to see how they compare). Â This hike included a spectacular stop for lunch at the top of a bluff overlooking a frozen lake. Â We met up with a group of students up there and had lunch around a fire in the snow, with a truly stunning view.
Bonding with the kids. Â From a teacher’s perspective, this was such a rare opportunity to really get to know kids outside of the classroom. This was especially valuable for me because I teach eighth grade, so not only were most of the kids new to me, but many of them will be my students next year. Â It’s heartening to see students surprise themselves when they are pushed out of their comfort zones. Â Moreover, I love seeing kids who struggle in the classroom excel in a different setting. Â This always makes me think about how I can push myself to make my classroom even more inclusive of different learning styles and aptitudes.
Storytelling. The boys in my cabin were super excited about hearing bedtime stories (scary ones, in particular).  On Monday night we all shared whatever quick ghost stories we knew from memory.  On Tuesday they asked me to come up with something for them.  This was a real treat for me, because I love stories and I especially enjoy the art of storytelling.  I began with a retelling of the 1902 classic, “The Monkey’s Paw” by W. W. Jacobs.  I changed the setting to reflect our surroundings (a cabin in the northern Minnesota wilderness), but otherwise kept it largely the same.  On Wednesday we moved on to one of my favorite horror authors, H. P. Lovecraft.  I retold “Pickman’s Model,” but again moved it to Minnesota and narrated it as if the artist had been real, and I had known him personally.  (When it ended, and I pulled the door shut, a student called out nervously, “Wait, Mr. Roy, did that really happen?”  Yay!)  For Thursday I sketched out a story based on the Native American Wendigo legend, but after the sauna experience (see below), I was too tired to do real improv.  I offered, instead, to read one of the all-time classics, Lovecraft’s “The Call of Cthulhu“.  The story, alas, was too long (and the vocabulary too obscure) for a single night’s reading, so I stopped about half way through, with most of the kids asleep on the floor around the wood stove.  As we drove back to Saint Paul on Friday, one of the kids came up to the front of the bus and asked diffidently if I would finish the story for them — they had saved me a seat at the back of the bus!  So, driving through a snowstorm, with faces peering over and between the seats, we all finished the masterpiece together.  (There was a moment in the reading — one of the kid’s foreheads scrunched up, trying to parse Lovecraft’s baroque vocabulary — when I felt a sense of rightness, like this was exactly what I was supposed to be doing with my life.)
The Sauna / Dip in the Freezing Lake. This is the legendary culmination of the Widji experience: a hot sauna and a plunge through a hole in the thick ice of Burntside Lake. Â I was nervous about it all week, truthfully, and in the moments before the icy plunge I considered it a very real possibility that I would be the first person at Widji to drop dead upon hitting the water. Â (I have never managed to outgrow this sort of mental melodrama.) Â As it turned out, my first shocked words upon rising above the surface were, “Oh, this isn’t so bad!” Â And, really, it wasn’t. Â (Some people make the whole experience significantly more painful by jumping in the water before going into the sauna, but that seems excessively masochistic to me.) Â Heating up in the sauna first was, naturally, wonderful. Â My muscles relaxed and sweat was literally pouring off of me. Â After ten minutes or so, I was ready to rinse off, and the icy water was a perfect way to do it. Â I wouldn’t want to lounge around in the water, obviously, but it was truly invigorating. Â Afterwards I felt almost euphoric, and my body temperature was still high enough that the freezing wind over the lake felt like a warm breeze. Â Sitting by the fire afterwards, my body felt as relaxed as if I had just had a luxurious massage. Â I wouldn’t hesitate to repeat the experience.
In summary, it was an incredible week! Â I’ve told my principal that she can count on me to volunteer for this every year. Â (They actually have a hard time getting teachers to go.)
One sad thing: I didn’t bring a camera! Â I don’t know what I was thinking, because it was utterly gorgeous up there. Â I took a few photos on my iPhone on Friday morning before getting on the bus (and found another one on Google images) just to give you a sense of the place.
The Wash House — just up the hill from the four cabins. Note the unbelievable blanket of snow on the roof!Snowshoe rack between the two boys’ cabins.This is from the rear of my cabin. In the foreground is a field where we practiced skiing before hitting the trails. Beyond the trees is the northern arm of Burntside Lake.From my porch to the back porch of the other boys’ cabin. (The girls’ cabins are in the trees, just out of sight.)The main road through camp.  This photo is obviously not from my iPhone, but I’m including it because it captures the beauty better than any of my muted pics. (From Widji’s Flickr page: http://www.flickr.com/photos/widjiwagan/4341071094/)
It has been a great first week so far! As I walk to and from school every day, I have time to really think about what I appreciate. Here’s a partial list in no particular order:
Walking to work every day (it’s about a mile, so not too far, but it lets me get my head on straight)
Seven days of paid orientation, department meetings, and planning time before the first day of classes
A week-long professional development conference for all new faculty about classroom management and how to run a fabulous advisory program
Block schedule (fewer, longer classes)
Recess and snack every day for all middle-schoolers!
First day middle-school assembly was filled with laughter
Canoeing down the Mississippi with the eighth grade on the third day of school!
Conferences with advisees and their families on the fourth day of school
I have only received two things in my physical mailbox since I started… everything else is handled via e-mail and various on-line tools.
Delicious, healthy food at the cafeteria every day (for students and faculty)
First faculty meeting had only one item on the agenda: discussing specific, individualized strategies for helping students who struggled last year get off to a good start
Twice-monthly meetings with my principal already scheduled from now until May
This is the main entrance of the Randolph campus which houses the middle and upper schools (the lower school is on a separate campus). The original SPA building which houses the upper school is on the right. The middle school is to the left of the main entrance (out of frame).
This year I will be teaching eighth grade social studies at St. Paul Academy and Summit School in St. Paul, Minnesota. I couldn’t be more thrilled… not only do I have a job, but I have a job that I’m really excited about! Everybody I have met at SPA has been incredibly warm and welcoming. (Aside: they pronounce each letter in the acronym, S-P-A, rather than pronouncing it as the word spa.) It’s hard to believe that just two weeks ago Sarah and I were considering the possibility of unemployment. Moreover, we were fairly certain that if we did find jobs, they would be less-than-ideal… I was looking at some part-time tech jobs, Sarah was applying to every school in the state.
I have formally applied to only a few jobs in my life; typically I have worked at places where I was already a known quantity — any applications or interviews were just formalities. This is partly because I tend to stick with jobs for a long time, but also because I have often found new jobs through a network of friends and colleagues. In case I ever need to apply blindly for jobs again, I want to record the process I went through for this job. If any blog readers are considering applying for jobs, perhaps you’ll find something useful here too.
Background
In late April, when I discovered that my California teaching credentials wouldn’t transfer to Minnesota, I was in a bind. (For those who missed that newsflash, based on my undergraduate coursework I was only licensed to teach anthropology in Minnesota!) All of my job hunting thus far had been aimed at the public schools (I naïvely assumed that my credentials would transfer), and I had been fairly confident that something would work out with a number of schools I had visited over spring break. Suddenly, all of this work went down the drain. With the master’s thesis deadline looming (and a zillion other things on the high priority to-do list) there was little time to research and apply to Minnesota private schools.
Enter Ken Simon and Anne Redmond. Ken is a consultant based out of the Twin Cities who has been working with Oakland Unified for the past two years. I had met him a number of times, but had no idea where he was from. My principal, however, put two and two together and suggested that he talk to me. He put me in touch with many of the public school principals that I met with over spring break and, after the licensing fiasco, recommended a number of private schools to consider, including St. Paul Academy where he had worked in the early ’90s. Meanwhile Mark Redmond, an old friend from Oberlin, recommended that I contact his parents who both work at a private school in Minnesota. His mother, Anne, was unbelievably generous with her time, giving me a long list of contacts at various schools and much useful advice. Her many messages helped me proceed with confidence. (Confidence is, I think, an intangible but essential ingredient of a successful job hunt.)
Then came the cover letter. Cover letters are quite painful for me. I usually write a new one for every application, though sometimes I can recycle pieces of older ones. In this case, I started from scratch. In a relatively short letter (though I went over a page) I wanted to convey a lot:
my passion for teaching
my philosophy of education (or at least of history education)
how my professional background qualifies me for the position
how my personal background makes me a particularly good fit for the job
Finally, of course, I hoped that the letter would be a good example of my communication skills. I was very aware that being a long-distant candidate would work against me, and that this letter would have to convince them to consider me for an interview. (Sarah had been having a hard time landing interviews as a long-distance applicant — one principal even called to setup an interview and then changed her mind when she found out that Sarah was still in California!) I spent four intensive days writing the best cover letter I could come up with.
On May 26 I submitted my application. I continued my busy, busy life and waited. On June 4, I received a very polite e-mail:
With so many superbly qualified candidates, we looked finally for the one whose background and qualifications gave us just the right “fit†for our exact needs. Although we were impressed with your experience, another candidate whose background is more closely suited to our current needs has been selected.
I knew it was a long shot, so I wasn’t surprised, but it was disappointing.
Second Try
I did, however, subscribe to the RSS feed from the job posting page at the school, just in case other jobs came up in the future.  Shortly after issuing my rejection letter, they posted the middle school social studies position. (I have since learned that the high school position was filled internally by one of the eighth grade teachers, which opened up the middle school spot.)
SPA seeks candidates for the one year position of Middle School Social Studies Teacher. The position is a .80 FTE and begins August 2010. Candidates should possess the ability to teach social studies in the Middle School with an emphasis on 20th century history, predominantly American history, and current events. Candidates must also have experience working with students in an advisory capacity and demonstrate an understanding of the social and emotional needs of this age group. Candidates should support the mission of SPA and the vision of the Middle School, and should be able to contribute to the life of the School outside of the classroom.
Then, once again, it was a waiting game. Luckily this was the last week of school at Bret Harte, so I had plenty to distract me.
On Monday, June 21, I received a phone call from the principal of the middle school. She was very friendly and invited me in for a first-round interview. To my great relief, she barely skipped a beat when I told her that I was still in California, and suggested that we do a Skype interview on-line. Yay!
Skype Interview
The interview was scheduled for early Wednesday morning, June 23, with the hiring committee. This left me about a day to get ready. I received a lot of useful advice from friends about how to prepare, particularly regarding the specifics of an on-line interview. I tested the camera on my laptop and chose a location with good light and nothing too distracting in the background. I tested a Skype connection with my brother to make sure it was working, and practiced looking into the camera instead of at the screen to have better eye-contact. I also spent time with Sarah practicing some typical interview questions, particularly the tricky ones like “What’s your biggest weakness?”
Meanwhile, Yoni suggested that I send the principal a virtual portfolio with some materials that I might want to discuss during the interview — the electronic equivalent of having some handouts to pass out. I spent most of Tuesday combing through my files to find a representative sample of my best materials. (In addition to being brilliant, Yoni’s suggestion was prescient, since the principal contacted me later on Tuesday saying it would be helpful if I could pass along some curriculum materials to help the committee assess my teaching!) Late that afternoon I sent along my portfolio, including a class syllabus, a sample six-week lesson plan, a PowerPoint presentation, a selection of graphic organizers, and a few example assignments. In the e-mail cover letter I described each file and my rationale for including it.
At 8:30 Wednesday morning I sat in front of my laptop, in my wedding suit (which I would never wear to school, of course), feeling very professional. The interview began on-time at 8:30 on Wednesday. The hiring committee included the principal, the dean of diversity, the chair of the history department, and the other 8th grade social studies teacher. They were all present for the Skype interview, but each took a turn in front of the camera, asking questions (so that way I could see the person I was talking to clearly). The interview was, fundamentally, a blast.
In-Person Interview
The next step was a flight out to Saint Paul to visit the school and interview in-person. Â I paid for the flight, but SPA covered my hotel. Â I was exhausted during the visit, but it was immediately apparent that the school was a good fit. Everybody I met was impressive and asked exactly the sorts of questions that I would have wanted to ask a potential colleague. The mood was less “interview” and more “talking about education.” The specifics are already blurry (I didn’t get enough sleep the night before) but there were few questions about curriculum or classroom management, and nothing about standards or testing. They were interested in my general philosophy of education and we talked a lot about how the emotional and developmental needs of children must be addressed in order for authentic learning to happen. I felt a little bit like I had died and gone to teacher heaven. (Remember, I was written up last year for allowing my students to have a farewell party for their student-teacher.)
At lunch I realized that they were as hopeful that I would accept the job there as I was that they would offer it to me–not a bad situation!
I’ve been a bit in denial that we’re moving very, very soon and have been focusing on all of the things I won’t miss about the Bay Area: the horrid traffic, the hustle bustle of so many people, the cost of living, etc. But with the date of departure creeping closer and closer, it’s getting more personal and real. Today as I left the Rheem School staff end of the year party, I started thinking about the things and people I’ll miss. I suddenly realized that the party would likely be one of the last times I would see most of my fantastic colleagues, and it hit me like a truck. I could not, and cannot, stop crying.
Rheem has been the place where I have found my voice as an educator. I truly could not have asked for a better place to start out. I’ve had an amazing principal who turned into a great friend, wonderful mentors and colleagues, supportive parents and excited students. I feel like I came at exactly the right moment to help start the school garden, which has literally blossomed into an engaging outdoor classroom and an integral part of the school. I started to develop my stance on what public education should and shouldn’t be, and how I can be a part of that. I discovered that I can indeed teach kindergarten, and that I love to play the guitar. I participated in a collaborative teaching staff, one that is built on the basis of mutual respect and openness. And perhaps most importantly, I felt love from a family of educators who beyond doubt find joy in teaching.
So why leave? I have felt so confident in this move as it has stayed abstract, but today I’m feeling a little grief-stricken. I absolutely know in my heart that this is the right move for so many reasons, and I can look back on the past five years with great clarity to see all of the ways that the Bay Area is not for me (and not the place where Andrew and I want to raise our family). I am absolutely not leaving here with any bitterness; moving to Oakland has changed my life considerably, and for that I am ever grateful.
But in the end, it is not home.
And as beautiful as I think Rheem is, I know it’s not my home as a teacher either. I find myself drawn to the experiential side of education, and while the garden has been amazing, I do wish I could be in a place that had outdoor, whole child centered education at its core. I have known for quite some time this is who I am, and I’m excited to see if there is a place that really fits this dream. Also, in all honesty, I do love being a stay-at-home parent, which has its own style of teaching in itself. The path of my job as an educator is being revealed as I walk it, and I know I will arrive in a place that is right for me eventually.
So in the meantime, I know there are going to be many moments like these as we get closer and closer to the day we move, and I will let them happen as they rise and fall. Today, I feel proud to have been a Rheem Team Roadrunner, and although right now I am feeling immensely sad about leaving the people at Rheem, I also feel carried by their love and will be leaving with a full heart.
