Lessons Learned

I am not sure how it happened.   I am not sure when it happened.     A stroke of a principal's pencil assigned me to same class as Dale “Wiz” Wisinayi way back in 1970.    Wiz was my first true friend.    As we focus on improving student achievement, we sometimes need to be reminded that what may matter most to our students are the relationships they share with friends they make at school.    Dale and I are more than friends.   He is my brother. Friendships are formed when students share common interests.   Dale and I shared two common interests.   We are one of the greatest comedy duos ever and we were always looking for a way to make a buck. I am not sure what teachers thought when saw are names on their roster.   I think it went like this, "Dale is a nice hard working boy. Oh no! he is with Oxley."   Dale was the straight man to the Wiz and Ox comedy team. ...

Finding the Light Darkness descends upon our classrooms every time we see a hungry child, a struggling child,   a child without family support and especially when we see a child experiencing loss.   A school can be a dark and dreary place filled with hopelessness. Teachers must be born with an extra dose of seeing the light when so many others just see obstacles, darkness and hopelessness.   Many children wearing baggy clothes and tattered shoes go unnoticed.   A teacher sees that hungry child with an aching heart and smiles. A smile shields the teacher’s breaking heart. The teacher’s heart pumps a little faster and a caring teacher fights back tears because no child should struggle.   Every child is a gift and their hearts should be free of pain. Fortunately, a greater hand than us touches our school.   The greater hand guides children through the darkness to find the teachers along their path.   The teacher smiles and places a hand on the s...

A hurting little girl confided in her teacher today.   Evil must exist because it is the only explanation for why an adult would hurt a tender innocent child. The ugliness of the world found my school today. I know what to do when evil finds my school.  I know the phone calls to make and process to follow.   I know how to comfort the teacher and how to facilitate the situation with families.   I will always protect my children.  What most people don't know is that after all the teachers leave,  I close my office door and cry because children are not suppose to hurt in such unspeakable ways. I use to grab my steering wheel on the way home from school and cry out, "Why God why?"   I demanded to know why such horrific situations would find a child.   Time has taught me that God doesn't cause children to hurt.  An evil so ugly is the only explanation to explain abuse and neglect. God was at school today.  The Lord put the teacher at...

If you want to understand a person, understand their hobbies.  My interpretation, right or wrong, is that people have hobbies that reflect their personality.   My wife is flower gardener and it fits her personality of wanting to add beauty to the life of others.  My Dad likes to complete and frame jigsaw puzzles.  It fits his personality of putting parts together to make something useful. My Uncle Carl passed away a few months back.   Like his brothers and sisters, he overcame the loss of his mom at a young age, the object poverty of the depression, and a father who found sobriety to be a challenge. At an age when most boys were still playing, my Uncle started to carve out a life for himself.  Entering the Korean War as a solider, he saw the horrific aspects of war.  The type of action that a solider never mentions.  He served with honor. My Uncle Carl came home from war and carved out a life for himself and his family.   H...

I never met my grandfather, but I wish I did.  He was called home long before I was born.  All I know about my grandfather are the stories shared by my family.  He was a simple man. Domenico Vencencio Petronio was born  in a rural mountainous Italian village in 1889.    He learned the values of a simple life based on faith, love, and family.    My grandfather was born before the Wright brothers flew at Kitti Hawk. My grandfather immigrated to the United States through Ellis Island.   I can only imagine his thoughts when he witnessed Lady Liberty for the first time.  He was just one of thousands of simple men looking for a better life in America. My grandfather was naturalized as a United States citizen and sent to boot camp.   Within six weeks, he was back on a boat heading to France as part of the Untitled States Army.   A simple man sent to serve his new country as a World War I solider. ...

Working Class Constitution Frustrated with my unwillingness to back down last week, someone snarled and called me a “Good Old Boy.”  I must admit at moments like this I should respond with the kindness of my mother, but I am my father’s son.   I looked the person in the eye and through my smart mouth grin simply said, “Thank you, I appreciate the compliment.” Even though demographic researchers would classify me as a college educated professional member of the middle class, I must disagree.  I am a proud descendent of the working class.   My values were forged by family who worked hard every day with the strength of their hands.  They are the men and woman who turned “college boy” ideas into workable products and services. I will take my working class “Good Old Boy” values up against anyone any day of the week and twice on Saturday.  What I learned in Ashtabula, Ohio will always be the best values.   My most loyal friends will ...

It Can’t Be Measured What really matters cannot be measured or defined.  Data enables us to determine program strengths and opportunities for improvement.  Assessments can tell us what a kid knows or doesn’t know.  What really matters cannot be assessed: ·       How do you measure a teacher's smile that greets a shy child? ·       How do you assess joyful laughter from playing with a friend? ·       How do you record donated school supplies that will make a needy child’s day? ·       How do we collect that sense of accomplishment when a child learns something new? ·       How do you determine the effect of a comforting hug? ·       How do you benchmark the life long impact of a personal relationship between a teacher and student? I am an advocate for data driven decision-making, but none of that matter...

A Favorite Place A student asked me a simple question that brought a warm smile to my face. Through her toothless grin pushing her blonde curls from her eyes she simply asked, "Where was your favorite place to visit when you were little? Some people might respond Cedar Point, the beach, or even Disney World.  My favorite childhood place to visit is not found in a travel guide.  It is located among rural rolling green hills and never to be referenced on travelocity.com . I closed my eyes and smiled recalling a long forgotten warm childhood memory.  The images and sounds of my favorite place rushed back like the warm summer wind blowing through the car windows as my Dad drove down the road.  Hanging over the front seat talking nonstop to my folks, the cityscape on a great lake plateau would disappear out the back window as the car weaved and rolled along towards the rural hills of western Pennsylvania.  Finally, a red barn and a white farmhouse appe...

A journey began six years ago when a caring and committed mom registered her little boy for kindergarten. By first grade, Tasha became ill with a pituitary gland disorder requiring a very risky surgery. Her only worry was her boy. A principal only has one thing to say at a time like this, “Tasha, I promise when your son is at school we will take care of him and do whatever we can to support you and your family.” Words I have said hundreds of times. Tragedy fell upon this young family. The high risk nature of Tasha’s surgery caused a stroke with lead to a comma and evidently to Tasha being called home to be with the Lord. Xavier, her second grade son, was now without his mother and the principal had a promise to keep. Xavier’s teachers are the main reason for his success. Carefully selecting his teachers every year was the first step in keeping my promise. He would need teachers who care first and teach second. His teachers held his tender heart in their hands. His former teachers...

Richard and Dad Opening Day 2011   Baseball is a time machine.  You walk in to the ballpark gate and you recall the first day you went to a game holding your Dad’s hand and eating cracker jacks.   I close my eyes and still can hear when my son was a toddler standing on the Home Run Porch and simply saying “wow” as he looked over the rail seeing Jacobs Field for the first time.  There is something special about baseball. The time machine takes me back to a lazy Saturday afternoon watching a televised baseball game with my Uncle Ray.  He was a simple man who liked baseball.   I can see him saying the rosary prayers as we watched the Yankees clobber the Indians.  I smile as I hear him yell, “that Reggie Jackson is a Son of a…” before my saintly Aunt Virginia would yell “Raymond.” He would smile and say “Ricky, that Reggie Jackson is a “Son of Beehive.” I fondly recall as a kid my family driving up to Cleveland  to cat...

On Monday,  J. Michael Hayfield set his tools down.  He swept up the dust and chips that the collection system missed.   He smiled knowing he had completed his work with the art and science of a master craftsman.  J. Michael reached up and turned off the shop light for the last time.   Long before formal mentoring programs were established a mentor was earned.  A young person worked and earned the trust and loyalty of someone who was willing to teach them the ways of a master craftsman.  J. Michael Hayfield, assistant superintendent, decided I was worthy of being mentored. J. Michael and I share a lot in common.  We are working class kids who had to fight and prove ourselves along life’s path.  We both married woman who hated us when we first met and told us to date them we would need to change.  He saw in me the fire for wanting to get ahead and make a difference. J. Michael provided me with opportunities to lear...