At a school it’s the students who are the lifeblood of campus. Their energy, unbounded, fills our days with unexpected surprises and a justification for the hope that brought every teacher and staff member to this profession of education. But in this analogy, the framework on which everything hangs, the foundation of our collective body, is the adults who call our school home; the staff are the bones.
Every May we take an opportunity to celebrate the classified and certificated staff, the board passing resolutions honoring both groups, our parent foundation throwing a fancy lunch, and our students offering gallons of coffee and even more thank yous than normal to the adults in their school lives.
Those adults more than earn the praise and appreciation.
I’ve been reminded of that recently by a slew of events where staff have been willing to say “yes” to students when asked to do things as kooky as give improv comedy a try at the Teacher-Student Comedy Sportz game, the assistant principals emceeing a school assembly, and our Homeroom Olympics including a day with a collective primal scream …followed by Jazzercise.
It’s in events like this that students get to see the kindness and humanity of their teachers, administrators, and classified staff. It’s one thing to go to an AP study session with a teacher you respect; it’s another to see that teacher in a dunk tank, swatting at a softball, or trying to sing.
But it’s this willingness to play, and occasionally play the fool, that endears the adults at a school to the students. The expression of glee on the faces of the Comedy Sportz students when the delightful woman who manages our learning commons agreed to step on stage was profound. “We got the librarian!” one Comedy Sportzer shouted, the group cheered. …and that night, on stage, she got one of the night’s biggest laughs with a “flick and swish” line in a Harry Potter bit. It was hilarious, and sweet, and will be something the kids talk about for a long time.
As profound, in my mind, was last week’s Spring Assembly. It still amazes and delights me that when the kids thought about who they wanted to emcee the event they chose two assistant principals. These intrepid souls threw themselves into the job, recruiting a flash mob of teachers to join them in a dance from Napoleon Dynamite, leading the crowd in karaoke, and showing that while from time to time they need to lay down the law, they can do so with the kind of respect that shows students that they’re more than just their office. These administrators are humans, and good ones at that.
That sense of goodness is at the heart of this year’s Homeroom Olympics, a tradition at San Dieguito linked to a woman who typifies all that is right about our school, retiring assistant principal Dr. Jeanne Jones. In addition to events like synchronized swimming without water and scavenger hunts around campus, this year Dr. Jones and her team of student organizers encouraged events to promote wellness and balance for all students. This led to Tai Chi in the quad, pet rock painting, and two homerooms working together to provide a day near midterms when the whole school could step outside for a primal scream and then laugh as they moved to a class of students in 80s style leotards leading them through Jazzercise. To work at a school where students and staff work together for such profound play is inspiring.
All the while, as they say yes to the silly stuff these same adults are there for the dramatic moments. It is to these caring teachers, counselors, and classified staff that students turn for help and understanding, knowing at least in part that these adults are people just like them, but with a few more years on the planet. For their part, the adults listen, care, and help the students find the answers or support they need. They change and save lives.
As they do, those same teachers, counselors, and classified staff do their work with and for students with passion, purpose, and professionalism. They arrive early and stay late, plan, adapt, and refine lessons, and put students and learning first.
These adults make profound differences one interaction at a time. They are the bones that hold up education and one week is not enough time to celebrate them. They are heroes.