The Difference We Make (Those who can do more...well, they teach)

Have I told you lately

About the Difference You Make in my Life

Have I?

How You're always there and you always care

In My Life, Have I?

Even though I may not always show

I just wanted you to know. that

Even though I haven't told you

You Make a Difference In My Life

 

The year was 1993, give or take.

I had been teaching about 3 years, give or take.

I had been an aspiring piano player and songwriter for most of my youth.

Three years into the profession, I realized I certainly wasn't a natural, as a teacher that is. I also wasn't sure that I hadn't wasted four years of my life on a college education. Honestly, I went into education because I enjoyed working with kids, not because I loved school. I went into special education, because I wanted to help kids with challenges, similar to some of the challenges I grew up with.

During this period, starting at about teaching year 3, I questioned everything about who and what I was. Special Education, at least the first few years in, proved to be a little more than pushing papers for the bureaucrats, and teaching kids if there was any more time left, after the paperwork looked pretty.

It was about at this time that my path crossed with Diane Catterall, the school's choir teacher. She happened to be looking for an accompanyist, and I was looking for some meaning in my life. I wasn't a great pianist, but at that point in my life, I had a passion for music and for songwriting. It was something I was recognized for, and it made me feel good about myself. After a couple concerts playing little diddys that " someone" came up with, I thought to myself, " This school needs a school song... a decent school song." So I set upon my task of writing the next school song.

What evolved, turned out to be a tribute to the teachers I worked with, to my stepfather, and educator and a role model who inspired me. What evolved, turned out to be, in retrospect, 20 years later, an affirmation to myself, for myself, that teaching is about so much more than academics:

Readin' Writin' and arithmetic
You Think That's All You do
Savin' Children
Turnin' Lives around
Though no one ever knew
Yes, you are the heroes
You're the ones behind the scene
You are the heroes
On Your shoulders we can lean
You're an example
of what I'd like to be
Teacher you're a hero to me.

What I created, turned out to be a story, told from the perspective of a student to his or her teacher, about the difference that teacher made in the child's life, that went far beyond what a teacher could give a student from any book.

Interestingly, when I now think back to the teacher who made a difference in my life, in fact, it wasn't her academic skill that I will always remember. It certainly wasn't her remarkable ability to get me to understand Geometry, for that would have taken a miracle. What I will always remember about Mrs. Schmidt, my 9th and 10th grade math teacher, was that she cared enough to stay after school and give me extra help, for days, for weeks. What I will always remember about Mrs. Schmidt, was how she came up to me after I had gotten a 32 ( out of 100) on the geometry Regents exam, she gave me a big hug, and said, " Mike. Anyone else, I would say we knuckle down and study and re-take that exam. Honestly, Mike, I don't think you're going to do any better." The investment Mrs. Schmidt had in me went beyond mathematics, and academic achievement. Mrs. Schmidt believed in and cared about me.

Only 3 years into teaching, my song  was foreshadowing of what my career would prove to be, in the lives of kids, that I wouldn't start to recognize until years later.

There was Brian, a middle school student I taught during year two of my career, that I caught up with on Facebook 20 years later as an adult, with a wife, and baby on the way.

Hey Mr. Lefko, man its been forever. I never thought I'd ever hear from you again, and here you are. wow! Similar to what you said there are very few teachers that stand out in my mind. But you made a lasting impression. If every teacher I had would have been as dedicated and as caring as you school would have been a whole lot easier. You proved that it was possible to be a teacher and a friend. And that learning was actually fun. After I left Garner Middle I went to Garner senior High and did two years there barly passing because I felt it was more Important to make people laugh then to learn. Then I moved to Wisconsin with my mom and continued school there. After about two years of freezing my ass off I decided to come back to North Carolina. When I moved back Here I got and apt. and started taking some classes at Wake Tech. Then at about 20 I met a girl and got Married we stayed together for about 11 years and then parted ways. We tried to make things work but from the time we got married to the time we split we were two completely different people. We didn't have any children but we did have a house. With a little luck and lots of money I was able to keep the house. Anyway I picked up the pieces and kept going. And along the way I did some soul searching and tried to figure out who I was. I believe I'm closer to knowing that now than I ever was in the past. And I met a great girl who is truly wonderful and in a lot of ways just like me. We don't have any children yet but can't wait to have some. As far as work goes I worked in the bottled water business doing many different jobs for 8 years. Then I wanted a change and managed a furniture store for 5 years. Then the store went out of business and I went back to working at a bottled water company as a route driver.This is not what I want to do forever but it pays the bills. I lost touch with many of my old friends from school but there are few here on facebook. Duke is one of them and I think there may be one or two more. Well I hope that gave you a little glimse into my life. Its been really cool catching up with you. If your ever going to be Raleigh let me know so we can have lunch or somthing. ttyl. Your buddy, Brian

So, in spite of the fact that at year two I knew absolutely nothing about teaching, I made a lasting impression on Brian. I'd like to think that I had a little to do with making his journey a little bit more fun, and school a little bit more hopeful.

There was Ricco. I actually heard from Ricco out of the blue, also on Facebook, a few months ago. I had taught him back in 1st grade, back in 93. He, too, is now an adult.

Hey Mr Lefko im been doing good over the years i finish school i even went back to school to build houses and i

finish that now im in college now doing very well still shy but alot better. You was the best teacher i ever had ever

now as i grow up you was the best you never look down on me i hope the kids you are working with see how

wonderful you are and see that they got a great teacher and friend. Got alot of respect and love for you, be great

like you are and get back at me when you can.

 

I was the "best teacher" he " ever had". Interestingly two students, from two totally different schools, from two very different backgrounds called me "a great teacher and a friend". I certainly didn't think I was a great teacher, academically speaking. Even today, after 20 + years under my belt, I consider myself decent, and I have to work damn hard at it. I believe I am making differences in the lives of young people, but I believe it goes beyond simply skills.

 

So perhaps there is more to being a good teacher than providing strong academics? Not that academics aren't important. Perhaps there is more to a memorable, transformative educational experience than can be conveyed through a textbook.

 

Readin' Writin' and arithmetic

Just part of what you do

buildin' the future

each child's hand you take

I bet you never knew.

 

This blog entry is dedicated to all the teachers I have known and worked with past and present, who have given more of themselves, than simply knowledge, to a child.
It is also dedicated to the talented campus and field instructors at SOAR, who prove every day, that you don't have to be trained as a teacher, to help children grow.

Writing Is Telling A Good Story - English @ The Academy Part I

The Art of Telling a Story

Writing Is Telling A Good Story - English @ The Academy Part I

 

Here at SOAR and The Academy, if students don't come in with stories to tell, they'll surely pick up some tales along the way. As I eluded to on my last Facebook post, this past holiday season, I decided to take a long hard look at why I always have loved writing so much, while so many of my students of the past 20 years detest it. One of the key ideas I honed in on was this fact, and I had been doing it myself more less for years, that writing is no longer taught, in large part in schools, but rather it is assigned, and assessed.

I've long contended that in an age of accountability where the standardized test is king, what is lost in school is a passion for teaching and a love for learning, if one is not extremely diligent to make certain that doesn't happen.

I decided to approach writing from a whole new angle coming back to the Academy for the Spring semester. As most of you know, I have been Academic Director for a little over two years. Most of the processes and procedures, academically speaking, were in place before I got here. Over the past two years, I have been evaluating, tweaking, adjusting, and revamping where necessary, so that our students get the most out of their education, and parents and families get the most bang for their buck.

The first things to go were what had become known as "reading logs" or the modern version of what we knew as kids as the book report. This was a large part of the English curriculum for a time. I just knew there were better things students could be doing with their time. Students still read independent novels, and they participate in " book share", where they actually get to discuss their books, or aspects of their books with their classmates, whereby they have the opportunity to showcase a book that they really enjoy, and expose it to other potential readers at the same time. The message: Reading is fun, sharing what you read is fun. Written reflection on a book can be useful, but not simply for the purpose of a grade in the grade book.

The second thing to go were a letter home per week. This, initially, I got a little resistance on, and I could understand why. Talk of taking away a staple in The Academy's curriculum that allowed children and their families to connect was a sensitive topic. Students still would write a letter home while out on expedition, but to take the time and the energy to write a letter a week, when there were so many other things to write, I simply felt was not the best use of a student's time in English. It's not that I'm not sentimental. It's not that I am heartless and don't want kids writing to their folks. It's just that, in an age of email, skype, blogging and Facebook, I felt our English time could be better spent learning about writing, and enjoying the process, rather than simply completing assignments.

Again, in an age of accountability, where grades in the grade book are a measure of a teacher's success, I was taking a chance, giving students the opportunity and the structure to " play around with writing" and to " practice", when the result would most likely be, not only no immediate grades in the grade book, but no immediate products to show to parents. When parents don't see their kids every day, work products are the only hard evidence they have that learning is taking place, and progress is occurring. I was, and am asking for their trust.

So, now that I've decided what we're not doing, it was time to plan what we would be doing. I knew from the start, that we would be focusing on at least the 4 genres of writing including narrative, expository, persuasive, and compare/contrast writing, for those were the most common, and most used genres in schools today.

But where to start? I started where I usually start in the 21st century when I don't know where to start. I googled it. I began with the narrative. Narrative writing means, essentially, writing that tells a story. It might be fiction, or non-fiction. The main feature of narrative writing is that it spans time and has a plot--something happens that keeps readers reading to see what's next. A narrative often (but certainly not always) is written in chronological order. Stories can be about our own experiences, other people ( biographies) , or even about stories you have read(summaries). The final point I read about a narrative is that it makes its point by telling a story – In the end it has a morale or a lesson learned.

This was the perfect place to start. As I had mentioned earlier, most students come to SOAR with their share of stories. If they are lacking any tales to tell, the adventures they have while at SOAR, most certainly provide them plenty of material for  some great stories. Ask them about their Expedition Writer's Notebooks.

Don't misunderstand. Many of the students we have at The Academy this semester, actually do enjoy writing. So the task was how to grow their skills as writers, while at the same time turning some students on to it who didn't like to write.

We began by talking about writing, and what students liked and disliked about writing. Almost unanimously, students stated that they enjoyed writing on self- selected topics, but found it more challenging to write on topics assigned by teachers. Knowing full well, that teachers have always assigned writing, and always would assign writing, and not wanting to burst their bubble, I knew from experience, that there is a way that creative writers can take an otherwise mundane topic, and make it their own. I've done it successfully, and had fun doing it. College professors actually enjoyed reading it. We weren't there yet.

We took grading out of the picture. Writing is not about a grade. I asked students to give examples of writing that they enjoyed. We then segued  into the narrative, or the art of telling a story. I asked students to think of their own territory, and what the word meant to them. They came up with adjectives like comfortable, safe, familiar, fun. Then I asked them to make a list in their expedition writer's notebooks of at least 10 personal writing territories, or things that were familiar to them, that would make for a good story. From there, I took another play from Kelly Gallagher's playbook http://kellygallagher.org/ where I used a funnelling graphic organizer strategy to take a topic of my own, and funnel down from general to specific. I then modelled an oral story tell to emphasize that story telling can be fun. This, is the story I told. I actually wrote it slightly different than I told it, intentionally, to model different ways to lead into a story.

 

You Aren't As Smart as You Think You Are ( at 16) and How I Learned That fact.

"Thumpbmpbmpbmpbmp. Crash!" The car stopped instantly. It had been like being abruptly woken out of a dream. The moments prior, everything had been, fine, great in fact. Then it was if everything was moving in slow motion as the cars tires hit the ruts in that old dirt road, and everything was spinning, spinning, spinning. The last thing that went through my mind before we hit were my mom's words, " Please Michael, be careful with my car, it's the only one I have... it's the only one I have... It's the only one I have..." I never thought I would become a statistic.

It was a crisp winter's evening in New York, the state, not the city. The year was around  1985. Life was good. No, Life was great. I had my driver's license for a week now. I was on top of the world. Nothing was going to stop me now. Tonight was the high school holiday band concert, and I was headed to school to meet some friends, and enjoy  some time out.

"Mom. Can I borrow your car tonight to drive to the concert?" I eagerly asked my mom, in the hopes that she would say yes.

Driving, was something I had looked forward to since I was a toddler sitting on the lap of my grandfather as he let me steer his car. Now, I had the power and the privelege within my grasp. All I needed were the keys.

Reluctantly my mother conceded. She knew this moment was inevitable. In retrospect, now, as a parent myself, I can only imagine she hoped for the best, but feared the worst. She said to me,

"Michael. Please be careful with my car. It's the only one I've got."

I don't remember the exact conversation, for it was over 25 years ago now, but I am certain I agreed to comply with he one request.  Overall I was a pretty responsible teenager. I was just glad to have the keys to that little Dodge Colt. With 4 on the floor, it was allo the power a kid like me needed.

I made it to the concert without incident, parked the car, and enjoyed an evening of music and other high school festivities. I truly think I was more excited about the trip, than I was the destination.

After the concert, I walked through the band room, and saw some friends of mine.

" Anybody want a ride?" I inquired with a big smile on my face, jingling the keys in my left hand.

A fellow student and friend of mine, Dave piped up, " Yeah sure. I'll take a ride."

After doing a second check to be certain there wasn't anyone else who would be stranded, in the absence of my services and excellent driving skills, we headed to the parking lot. Dave and I got into the car, and we were off.

What is it about being 16 and driving a car that is so exciting and so appealing? I can relate to it to this day, but I am uncertain if I understand what it was. I am also uncertain as to what it was that  made me decide to take the scenic route home that night. It was a straight shot down route 35 from the school into town, to where Dave lived. In 20 minutes, we'd be there. That would be two easy. I had the car, and I had the night. I wasn't going to give that up that soon.

We took a left turn onto Reservior Road  which took us over a huge bridge which was the dam for the town's water supply. It certainly was more scenic, and allowed me to stay behind the wheel a little bit longer that evening.

Like many teens, I felt invincible. As we made a sharp right hand turn where the pavement turned to dirt, I took it too fast, intentionally, and let the tail of the small car dishtail behind me. This was fun. I don't remember the conversation that took place between Dave and I, or even if we talked. As I downshifted and picked up speed, I decided to play with the steering wheel a bit, rocking the car to and fro on the road. Heck this was fun. I don't even remember thinking about the fact that this could be dangerous. It simply didn't occur to me, until about 2 minutes later, when it was over.

Rocking the wheel, mid rock, I hit some ruts in the old dirt road:

"Thumpbmpbmpbmpbmp." Then, in an instant I saw it happen. It was all too fast to react, yet it seemed like it was happening in slow motion, the rear of the car fishtailed out from behind me, and pointed the car toward the embankment on the side of the road, and I hit!

The car stopped in an instant, and the interior lights flickered as if they were going to go out. I checked myself. I checked Dave. All in one piece. We didn't hit that hard. it was just a bump. This was going to be all right.

Dave and I exited the vehicle to assess the situation. Note, I didn't say damage, because I was certain this was just a scratch. As I moved to the front of the car, by the light of the headlights I could see the front tires spinning. They had completely left the ground, and the bumper was hanging on an embankment.

Luckily for me, it was a compact car. All I would have to do is get under the bumper and rock the car off the embankment. Easy. Well I underestimated the weight of a compact car, and overestimated  how much I had been working out. That car wasn't going anywhere.

This is when I learned, just by chance, Dave worked part- time for the local tow-truck company. God hadn't completely foresaken me. Actually it had nothing to do with GOD. This one was all my fault.

We hiked into town, 30 minutes of what would have been a 3 minute drive for Dave to get the tow truck. As I saw Dave pull away from my house with mom's car in tow on the back, those words, again echoed in my ears, " Michael. Please be careful with my car. It's the only one I have..." I knew it was time to pay the piper, as I climbed the stairs to my mother's bedroom where she ususally read before going to bed. I entered the room. What follows is not an exact transcript of our conversation, as I don't remember exactly what was said. Remember, this was 25 years ago.

"Mom. You're not going to believe this. I am so sorry... I was driving Dave home and everything was fine..."

And then it hit me like bolt of lightening.

" And a deer jumped out infront of the car, and I had to perform and evasive maneuvre to avoid the deer and when drove up on an embankment!!!!"

I don't remember the rest of the conversation, or exactly how much trouble I had gotten in, but I do remember, that it was the deer's fault and not mine.

One thing I neglected to mention in the story so far, was that I was always somewhat of a "mama's boy", and if there was one person in the world I couldn't lie to, it was my mother. My story lasted about 10 minutes until the weight of the guilt of lying to my mother was too heavy to bear, and I came clean. I was glad I did.

$3000.00 later the body shop was able to straighten the frame of the car which I had bent when I hit the embankment.

I learned a few lessons that night. One being, lying gets you nowhere, and lying to your parents, even if you can do it, isn't a good idea. Second, you're not as good a driver as you think you are when you've had your license for a week. Last, with the statistics on teen drivers as they are, I am lucky to not be dead. I could have gone over the side of the bridge.

Lessons I plan to teach with this story:

Different ways to lead into a story. In this case, I dropped the reader into the middle of the action, rather than a simply chronological tell, like I told it to the class.

Use of Dialogue to make a story more interesting.

Ending a narrative with a morale of lessons learned.

The ideas that this is just one draft of this story, and that I may choose to rewrite it, revise it, and make changes to it to make it better, Driving home that writing is a process that can be fun, and it doesn't simply have to be a task, to get done.

We'll pick up on other literary elements within the context of the story, and through the student's own writings.

 

The main points I aim to drive home with our writing this semester:

A) It doesn't have to be " work"

B) It can be fun.

C) There is no right or wrong

D) We can always improve our writing. It doesn't have to be perfect.

 

Once we've mastered these points, there is no limit to what we can accomplish.

 

Look for your kids 1st narratives in the blogs very shortly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Difference We Make ( "we" means all of us... yes... the parents too...)

Inspiration is where you find it. This post is to be shared with all my colleagues, who, whether they realize it or not, make this kind of a difference in kids lives every day they come to work. This is what it's all about.

 I had just come off a day that was a great day overall. We now have four teams on campus at The Academy, so the teachers and staff are busier than ever. I had made promises to myself this semester that I wasn't going to make promises to students and their parents that we couldn't realistically fulfill. Yet I also made many promises to students and their parents that I felt we could fulfill, and we needed to fulfill, to  be truly success oriented for our kids.

This day, this semester even. I hadn't felt as organized as I usually do, but I was deep in the trenches every minute of every day, working with kids, connecting with kids, and helping them  recognize their Personal Legends. We were working with students grade 6 - 12 and some Post- graduates, helping them get ready for their next steps. It was all starting to gel.

But it isn't easy, and just because you work hard and feel like you're being successful doesn't mean that you can make all of the people happy all of the time. I have always maintained that I am there for the families as much as I am for the kids, but today was a challenge to that conviction.  For this day I was embroiled with a parent over what was best for their child. As a parent myself, I always try to look at things from both an educators perspective and a parents, because I know what a difficult job it is to be a parent. The gist of the conversation centered around a common theme I have encountered during my career; parents wanting a certain thing, and calling into question my professional judgment because they feel that they know what is better, educationally for their child.  In this case, I held strong to my convictions as to what was better educationally, and emotionally for the child, as we held our phone conference, and the child was brought to tears because the parents wasn't truly hearing what the child needed from their parent. I wish that parents and families would truly trust the educators whom their entrust their children to. I understand from a parent's perspective that that respect has to be earned.

At the end of our conversation, the child was emotionally distraught, and we hadn't yet reached a mutually acceptable solution to the issue. I tried to convey to the parent that growth and self-realization was what we were after in this moment, not perfection, and that we had achieved both of those things. I tried to get this parent to acknowledge the positives in their child and in their child's work, and to realize, as was stated in  a recent contemporary movie, " Everything will be all right in the end... so if everything is not all right, we haven't yet reached the end." At the end of the conversation, we hadn't agreed to disagree, and the parent's next step was to contact my supervisors Joe, and John Willson. This is ok, because I feel, from a parent's perspective, if you don't get the answers you want or feel you need, you need to go to the top.

At the end of the day, as I was packing to go home for the weekend, I decided to check Facebook, as I do rarely now, as I simply don't have the time. I was surprised by a message from an old student of mine from the inner city projects, who I first taught in 1st grade, back almost 20 years ago. He, obviously, is an adult now. It affirmed for me the idea that "Everything will be all right in the end... so if everything is not all right, we haven't yet reached the end." As parents and educators we may not always get the answers or results that we feel we want or we need at the time, and that the fruits of our labor may not be seen until years to come. I think what he says sums it up best, so I wanted to share it with you. This, again, is dedicated to all the educators I work with, who do, infact make this same difference every day. "R" writes:

Thought about you often over the years.

Hey Mr Lefko im been doing good over the years i finish school i even went back to school to build houses and i 

finish that now im in college now doing very well still shy but alot better. You was the best teacher i ever had ever

 now as i grow up you was the best you never look down on me i hope the kids you are working with see how 

wonderful you are and see that they got a great teacher and friend. Got alot of respect and love for you, be great

 like you are and get back at me when you can.

Grammatical errors aside, I hope you see that in school, it isn't always the academics that are the most important. I can't wait to write him back, and maybe meet him for coffee or something.