“Monday, Monday, can’t trust that day
Monday, Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way.” The Mamas and The Papa’s song Monday, Monday is playing in my mind as I write this post.
Like most mornings these days, the “Who’s on First” strategy of filling unfilled teaching, E.A. and ECE vacancies started at about 6:30 am. This Monday morning, however, knowing that we were set to start Day 1 of the highly anticipated online EQAO for our grade threes, seeing vacancies for staff who were scheduled to support students with special needs heightened my anticipation about the day. I am forever thankful that my colleague with whom we share an Itinerant Long Term Occasional Teacher, sent a quick, “She’s all yours” text when I shared our list of vacancies today.
By 8:30 am we were navigating the list of names on the large white board by filling in assignments, checking for student absences and creating a supervision schedule for the day. By 8:45 am, we were on to the next task of shuffling the EQAO support schedule, when another staff member (who was scheduled to support a student with scribing) found us and shared that needed to head home as she was feeling unwell. I could feel my anticipation about the day take a turn ~ and not for the best.
With my mind swirling with a possible Plan C, as we had already scrapped Plan B, another staff member compassionately comforted her colleague and shared, “We’ve got this”. With relief, the ill staff member went home to rest.
By 9:00 am, with the EQAO schedule solidified the rest of the day started to unfold. Emails, interviews, connections with students and staff, a quick walk through the subdivision to see if a neighbour would be kind enough to return a soccer ball that had been kicked over the fence, were just a few of the items on the docket.
That early morning, “We’ve got this” turned out to be true. Students were supported, the assessment was completed (with only a couple of SOS calls directly to EQAO) and the team came together at the end of the day for a debrief, a review of day 2 and some smiles.
Upon reflection, I am so thankful for the colleague who knew that in the moment, “We’ve got this” was the perfect response.
Before composing this post, I reached out to that staff member and thanked her for her calm, compassionate leadership. May we all continue to be open to receiving those reminders when we get lost in the logistics and forget (if only for a moment) what is important.![]()
Later that evening, as the office became quiet, we had a beautiful conversation about how Brian was this student’s guardian angel. The one person who was there, when this student most needed a kind, caring adult. Brian recalled when he was in my grade five class (yes, our evening charge custodian is a former student of mine, and I could not be more thrilled that our paths have crossed again) a student had an accident in class. We talked about the long-lasting impact of such embarrassment and how his actions today hopefully sheltered this student from the same long-term impact.
A good friend once told me that if you want to keep everyone happy, sell ice cream cones. I have learned over the years that although there are moments of sheer joy, similar to the experience of seeing the ice cream truck come down the road, keeping everyone happy is impossible. So instead, I have learned that when those tough decisions must be made (and some days there are a number of them) ensure that you have communicated clearly and with as much transparency as possible. That is a lesson that I continue to share with staff when they are faced with challenging parent situations. We know and appreciate that parents are doing their best to advocate for their children ~ sometimes with only their own child’s perspective on a situation. We also know that there are a variety of reasons why parents are reluctant to connect with educators and then, if necessary, an administrator. I never underestimate the long-term impact of childhood trauma associated with schools and educators and appreciate that at times, parents bring that trauma forth and hence are reluctant to reach out for help.
My love/hate relationship with social media continues to ruminate in my mind. I know that there are more positives, more informative sharing and more celebrations occurring on social media connected to our school than these few nasty, ill-informed negative ones and I guess we just need to rise above it.
As per most post-Covid initiatives, our work this summer is going to shift, owing to the fact that life in the DR has changed ~ their school year has been extended and there has been a change in the Government/Ministry. As an organization we are going to return to the heart of our work which is collaborating directly with our Dominican mentors. Over the past few years (pre-Covid) our work was focused on providing a week-long conference, which grew to 300+ DR educators. Our group of DR mentors played a supportive role in the conferences, but we had yet to reach our ultimate goal of having them take the lead.
One of the candidates, simply placed a bicycle seat on the table and then proceeded to connect each part of a bicycle to the essential components of a Learning For All environment.
On numerous occasions this year, we have shared this graphic as a visual reminder about not only the triangulation of assessment strategies, but that when personalizing those strategies, assessment could and by rights should look different for different students. We want to ensure that we are setting our students up for success.
Fast forward to this year when staff shortages are the new reality. Once again, Carla and Cory to the rescue. In addition to their morning and afternoon Kiss/Ride duties ~ where they pleasantly greet families who drive their children to school (and provide road safety tips, every once in awhile) they now cover breaks for our Educational Assistants and on occasion have been placed in classes where ECE and EA assignments have been unfilled. I often watch in amazement as they seamlessly shift into a classroom and instinctively step in, as one of our incredible EAs steps out to have their much-needed break. Our students do not even bat an eye. They know that Carla and Cory are safe adults who know how to care for them. I love watching them interact with students of all ages on the yard, whether it is sharing a joke with our older students or playing tag with our Kindergarten friends. Carla takes her east door first aid duties very seriously as she doles out those “magical” ice packs and affixes those band-aids that do not want to stick very effectively.
I could go on and on about their contributions to the school and I am truly thankful each day for their commitment to our students, our staff, and the broader community.
As I flip the calendar to a new month, I am reminded of my past practice of crafting a post a day for the month of May and then suddenly my emotions range from excitement to responsibility to terror. Excitement, as I love the sense of accomplishment of setting a goal and reaching it; responsibility, as I have preached over the years about the power of professional reflection, the bravery of making one’s practice public and the importance of modeling the productive struggle of writing as a means of supporting our students as authors; and finally (and most predominantly) terror as I’m painfully aware that the cognitive muscles required to craft anything substantial are currently cowering in the corners of my incertitude mind.