Mrvaudrey

Category: Administration

  • Promotion and Depression

    Have we met in real life?

    Ibm usually pretty positive, and holding a positive attitude for a whole-day workshop is energizing for me, not draining. Nearly every day of my five years of meeting with teachers, someone would say, bWow, youbve got a lot of energy!b and it was almost always genuine and never exhausting.

    Ibm in a place now where I can describe how my recent job changes happened so quickly, and since this blog will stay up for a while, itbs important to me that I put the pen to paper.

    March 2020

    The school system imploded. The district opted for bpositive credit only,b so studentsb grades couldnbt drop between March and June. Many students realized this and did nothing. I was Dean of Students at a Middle School of about 1000 students, and my temporary contract was set to end in June. The principal was regularly absent for cancer treatment, and the other AP (with whom, Ibm still friends) was distancing herself so I could be seen doing the job.

    So, for better or worse, I was running the majority of operations for the school.

    I want to be clear; the principal was doing his best, but his illness was limiting his capacity, and I donbt harbor any resentment. Cancer sucks.

    Twice during that period, I sought AP jobs within the district, assured by the leadership that I was well-positioned for the AP slot at my current school. After being encouraged by HR that I bshouldnbt change a thing for the interview,b I was disappointed to be turned down. It felt like dating someone for a while, then getting dumped suddenly. It’s the second most painful thing to ever happen to me at work.

    Of course, nobody deserves a job; my experience was slim and the DO wanted to change over the school leadership, which is their prerogative. Some colleagues confirmed that yes, the leadership is unlikely to update my reputation as “gregarious and silly instructional coach,” and wouldn’t promote me to leadership. It was time to go, but I had no emotional energy left in my disappointment tank.

    August 2020

    With my temp contract ended, I returned to the classroom. As one of the Math Intervention teachers, I split my time across two schools, serving eight 30-minute bMath Clubsb a day. My background using technology tools to lighten the workload made the job less painful than it was for many teachers, and teaching Elementary school students for the first time put some joy back into my days.

    It was just what I needed to heal after suspending my search for Admin jobs. My spouse heard me whine often about how, bIbm a straight, white man, so Ibm unaccustomed to disappointment. Most of the time, job interviews and applications go well for me, and my getting-denied-muscle is very weak.b Conversations with trusted colleagues were encouraging, pointing out that everyone is ill-equipped for sad feelings right now and what Ibm feeling is valid.

    In November, I was browsing the job postings for Math Teachers. I needed a change, and was willing to take a lateral move. The district near my house flew a position for Math Coach, and I applied on a whim. For three months, I heard nothing, and I continued to do an above-average job teaching remotely.

    January 2021

    After an IEP one Friday afternoon, I got an email from Fontana Unified, apologizing for the long wait (they had to hire a Director, then shuffle other positions, and finally got around to Math Coach), and asking for an interview.

    A week later, I had an offer. Two weeks after that, I was the newest Secondary Math Teacher-on-Assignment, where I wrote pacing guides, built assessments, and attended teacher meetings to support staff. Medium-intellectual demand and low-emotional demand was exactly what I needed at the time, and my bossbs boss scheduled meetings with each TOA individually to ask about our long-term goals and how FUSD can support us to reach them.

    The clear intent to “promote from within” was publicly declared, and I nearly started crying at my desk. Itbs pretty much the opposite situation from eight months prior, being encouraged toward promotion and denied. Ibve already been placed as Administrative Designee* at school sites to get experience and build relationships.

    My spouse pointed out this week, bItbs good for you to have this job, because you need to get your confidence back. Ibm already seeing it, and going on those gigs as keynote speaker is helping.b

    Depression

    In the midst of all that, there was a global pandemic, poorly managed by a President who gave little attention to people below his perceived station, and children were adversely affected. In April 2020, the entire country was tweeting about how teachers should make a million dollars a year because the job is so hard. The support did not turn into policy change or an increase in funding for teachers and staff, decrease class sizes, and provide advance mental health support that these developing minds will need very soon.

    It hit me hard. As I mentioned at the opener, I default to smiling, and my well of positivity is deep.

    About September 2020, I realized the well ain’t bottomless.

    My district and healthcare provider both offered mental health supports, everything from self-care to meditation. Being acutely self-aware made it quick to isolate what could help me feel better.

    Me: So,I should work out once a week and not drink on weekdays and sleep an adequate amount, and that will improve my headspace.
    Therapist: Yeah, man. You already knew that, so do it.

    And now I’m back in-person, tackling school-based challenges with other people, around kids, and doing all the above things. My job is great, and my team is great, and things are looking up.

    ~Matt “It’s been a long 500 days” Vaudrey

    *Itbs basically a sub for the Principal, charged with keeping the ship sailing.

  • Vaudrey for Hire!

    Hello, interview panel member!

    Thank you for indulging my request to visit my website for more information.

    I’ll be direct and brief, since I don’t love bragging, but I recognize the need for you to know more about me before inviting me to an interview (and assuming you’ve seen my resume and seen this thread already).

    Reflection & Growth

    This website has blog posts going back to 2007 (thirteen full years of teaching and learning, as of this writing). A constant theme throughout every post is my desire to get a little bit better every day.

    As a teacher, I solicited feedback on lessons I was planning, joining with teammates I met on Twitter and at conferences to improve my craft and my classroom. I also offered my students a chance to grade me anonymously with the Teacher Report Card.

    Since then, I’ve designed the Coach Report Card (which I delivered quarterly to the 1,000 staff I supported) and the Administrator Report Card, which I blogged about here. Additionally, I’ve traveled the country, speaking to educators about taking grand risks and trying new things (a theme of my book with John Stevens).

    Cover of Classroom Chef by Matt Vaudrey and John Stevens

    Technology & Learning

    In 2012, my principal asked if I would pilot a 1:1 iPad program at our middle school. That began my process of applying technology (when necessary) to help students learn, and it led to spending five years as Instructional Coach of Educational Technology for 10,000 students across 13 schools.

    While an extensive knowledge of apps and websites isn’t the only the thing that can innovate school systems, it certainly came in handy on Back-To-School Night this year:

    Those technology chops have been put to the test as COVID-19 forced our 39 teaching staff at Lone Hill Middle School to teach remotely for two months. I designed and implemented a system for parents to quickly and equitably provide their children access to their teachers and their instruction. Not all of our families have internet access, so each teacher places two weeks’ worth of learning onto one slide and includes “low-tech work.”

    Relationships

    Trust is built on consistent, reliable communication, and my friends and colleagues will tell you: it’s vital to me that I stand by my word.

    For the thousands of people who have seen my workshops or read my book, they know my promise of “Lifetime Tech Support” holds me accountable to any claims I make, online or off.

    When I taught in a neighborhood with gang activity, some students from the local gang told me, “You gotta give respect to get it.”

    This year (my first in School Administration), I have listened and learned and paused and gotten much better at waiting for more information before I spring into action. Since those relationships with parents, students, and staff are important to me, I take the time to listen.

    I listened when the students, parents, and staff were disappointed that we weren’t able to host the 8th grade promotion. So I coordinated with a production company for a video promotion and planned and executed a Drive-Through Promotion for the 8th graders this year.

    And sometimes, it’s just fun to be silly. That builds relationships, too.

    Thanks for reading, and I look forward to hearing more about your school, and finding my place in it.

    ~Matt “Assistant Principal” Vaudrey

  • Timeline of Whiteness

    It’s 2020. I’m white.

    Even though I’m no expert on capital-R Race in Education, I want to model a willingness to be publicly accountable. As Dr. Ibram X. Kendi said in this podcast:

    If the heartbeat of racism is denial, then the heartbeat of anti-racism is confession. To be anti-racist is to admit when we are being racist.

    There are probably a lot of ways that I’ve been racist in my life and not noticed it, which I was pondering when I saw Marian’s tweet:

    I’m unafraid of admitting things that make me look bad, apologizing, and doing better. I’m on a journey to be anti-racist, and that means admitting when I’ve been racist. If sharing my journey makes it easier for other educators to start talking about racism in schools, then my vulnerability is worth it.

    So here are all the memories I can think of when I was aware of my race as a white person, including some that deserve apology. Strap in:

    5 years old: I make friends with a kid who lives nearby my Grammybs house. I tell her, bI was invited for dinner with the Brown family.b Later, she finds out that the family name is Thompson, but they were the only “brown” family I knew.

    3rd grade: I hear my first racist joke and retell it at home. One parent chuckles, the other one says it wasn’t funny. I didn’t understand why it was supposed to be funny in the first place.

    4th grade: Our rural elementary school has one black kid and 300-some white kids. Justin had mocha skin and curly hair and was also the fastest runner in my class. My friend Brian lost the race to Justin, and when he sat next to me on the bus that day, he said, “Justin is such a n*****.”

    5th grade: Still in that small, rural school, my music teacher stops class to turn on the TV to see the OJ verdict. Later that week, Ibm certain I heard the term ball-black juryb several times.

    9th grade: I transfer to the big high school in the next city over. We sit alphabetically in class, and the Tullous twins always sit near me. They wear the du-rags and baggy pants that were common in the late 90s. One day, they show me the latest issue of Vibe magazine, featuring musicians and actors Ibd never seen. I realize there is a whole culture I know nothing about, but I make no effort to learn more.

    11th grade: On 9/11, my friend from drumline walked the halls yelling, “Osama must die! (points at a student) Do you know Osama?” I never saw a teacher correct him.

    Freshman in college: multiple times at parties or gatherings, I tell my friends, bIbm not afraid to describe somebodybs race! White skin, dark skin, brown eyes, blue eyes; skin color is just a physical description to me. Itbs not a bad thing! I don’t see race, I just see people.b

    Sophomore in college: I grow my hair out in an attempt to get my straight hair to form dreadlocks. bI have such hair envy for black people,b I say. bI wish I could have dreadlocks or an Afro.b

    Junior in college: I secure a scholarship to play drums in the Gospel Choir, and for the first time, I am in a room with more non-white people than white people. If I made any inappropriate comments, none of the other musicians ever pushed back. They were probably pretty good at ignoring white nonsense at my private, Christian university.

    First-year teaching: I have a student in class whose behavior I struggle to redirect. During the year, she gets louder and more foul (likely due to my weak attempts to manage the class). After a parent meeting, one of my colleagues says, “What’s the point? She’s just going to be a gang member anyway. All these little monsters are.”

    Fourth-year teaching: One of my seniors is constantly disruptive in my class. One day, I change his seat to move him away from his friend, and he responds, bYeah, of course you move me to the back of the bus.b
    Ibm shocked, then pissed, and I kick him out of class.

    Sixth-year teaching: The day before my 8th-graders have a test on the Quadratic Formula, I mix up my review game with pictures of Asian people and ask them to name if the person is Chinese, Korean, or Japanese. Eliah, who is very proud of her Filipino heritage, says, bMr. Vaudrey, thatbs racist!b
    I reply, bHow is that racist? Ibm not saying anything bad about them!b
    She doesnbt respond.

    Seventh-year teaching: My fourth period is a handful. One day, Deon and Keisha arrive late from lunch, and I send them straight to the office. I probably made some comment like “You’ve used up my grace by being so disruptive every day.” The following year, I read Dr. Chris Emdin’s book and am horrified to learn that what I viewed as “respectful” behavior was based on my whiteness and what made me feel respected. Deon and Keisha were “loud” but rarely rude, and “disruptive” was thinly-veiled racism.

    Second-year Instructional Coach: During a district-office activity, we are telling the HR department what we want in the new Superintendent. I write “less white people” on a Post-It note and stick it on the board. My boss pulls me aside afterward and we discuss advocating in a way that creates change (and doesn’t make the only black guy in the room uncomfortable, since everyone thinks he wrote the Post-It).

    Third-year Instructional Coach: My spouse wants to move into a “good” neighborhood, near one of the schools that’s an 8 or a 9 on the real-estate websites. I ask her to define what “good” school means, citing that the website with the same name is super-problematic. We end up moving to a great house in a middle-class neighborhood, and our kids attend school with a variety of different ethnicities. My daughter’s 7th birthday was the most ethnically-diverse gathering in our family’s history.

    Fifth-year consultant: Immediately after wrapping a keynote speech where I reference the problematic suspension and expulsion rates of non-white students, one of the attendees points out that every stock photo on my slides includes only white students. I thank her for pointing it out and immediately fix that slideshow and update my process for finding stock photos.

    Fourth-year Instructional Coach: I’m still getting gigs speaking to teachers, so I begin to work in discussion about race, privilege, equity, and other squirmy topics into my keynote addresses. The people who need to hear this message are unlikely to enter the room intentionally, but they won’t walk out if I start talking about race in a workshop about bravery or warm-ups or whatever. (More here)

    First-year Admin: I email out a copy of our revised Dress Code to all staff at the middle-school, where Ibm one of the Assistant Principals. Months later, the only black staffer notes that it was inappropriate to name specific hairstyles when I encouraged teachers to be aware of their classroom policies. Following the script in White Fragility, I thank her for telling me, apologize for the impact of my language, and ask what else she noticed about my behavior that is problematic.

    Later that year, the police question a boy without his parents present, and once they arrive, do not ask for consent before recording. My unease turned to panic as I realized what was happening, and I made sure to sit near the boy during questioning and insist the parents were present before we proceed. The parents still thank me every time we see each other, but the cop and my boss were both unhappy with me that day.

    “Vaudrey… what’s the point of this?”

    I’m no expert in Anti-Racism, but I hope that owning my entire journey will encourage other white folks to do the same. Join me; let’s get uncomfortable together.

    If it means that we’re better prepared to support students, it’s completely worth it.

    ~Matt “Admitting Where I’ve Been Racist” Vaudrey

    NOTE: It’s possible I’m being racist in some of these retellings. Let me know in the comments; by posting this publicly, I’m welcoming correction.

  • Drive-Through Promotion

    So COVID19 has destroyed your plans to make eighth-graders feel special? Your whole staff is wearing masks and avoiding hugs, but you still want to celebrate your eighth-grade students as they go up to the high school?

    Not to worry! This helpful blog post will show you how to make a meaningful Drive-Through ceremony that’s fun, easy, and still celebrates students during the Quarantine.

    The drive-through promotion ceremony for Lone Hill Middle School went very well: 281 families showed up with 362 cars, filling up the whole two hours. If our success can be shared with y’all, even better.

    To get in the mood, play this video as you read:

    Prep

    First, I planned a route.

    This was shared with families and community members multiple times via email, posted on the school website, and even relayed in video form, so there was no doubt about “Where do I go?”

    Next, I made a committee composed of staff and parents, and we planned how to make the ceremony safe, fun, and a celebration. We came up with this:

    Order of Operations

    Cars turn onto the south driveway, the student’s name clearly printed on the passenger’s side of the windshield. Along the driveway (red station) are the safety guidelines:

    1. Stay in your car
    2. Keep your windows up
    3. Masks only needed if the windows are down

    “Wow, Vaudrey. You’re really going to kick people out if they roll down their windows to wave at their favorite teacher?”

    I posted the safety expectations, but we were unwilling to enforce conduct at a parade, so nobody was reprimanded and everyone was safe.
    Even the family who arrived with their 8th-grader seated on the back of the convertible.
    Like a state senator during election year.

    After the rules area (red station), cars proceeded to the blue station, where two staff took down student names onto a shared Google Doc. That Doc served as the parade order, and was viewable by the Announcing Station (DJ Kyle) and the Certificate Station at the end.

    Cars then turned north through the volleyball courts toward an enormous balloon arch and our favorite local DJ playing Pomp and Circumstance.

    As the car approached the arch, one of the counselors announced the student’s name off the shared Doc (which you can hear on video). On the passenger’s side, most of our staff lined up in masks, blew bubbles, rang cowbells, and some even made signs (that we strung up the basketball hoops using some rock-climbing gear).

    View this post on Instagram

    Congrats!

    A post shared by Lone Hill Middle School (@lonehill_lions) on

    After the Cheer Section, cars turned west again toward the Distribution Station, where the team had checked the shared Doc to see which student was approaching next, then prepared that student’s certificate and awards. (It didn’t surprise me that Alicia volunteered for that station so she could address each student and shout “Congratulations!” through a cracked car window. I had to remind her to drink water as she sprinted, red-faced and smiling behind her mask, from car to car.)

    Then the family turned right out of the staff parking lot onto Covina Blvd and drove off toward summer (at least until Victory Lap next week, where they will return their textbooks and clean out the PE locker).

    Parade Maintenance

    Every twenty minutes, we took a break so teachers could hydrate, sit down, and prevent “cheer fatigue.” I stood in the bottom south-east corner of the map with my radio, pausing cars and telling them, “We’re taking a two minute rest, so the staff can be fresh when they cheer for you.” Every family was fine with that, none complained.

    Additionally, I took laps back and forth from my cooler and offered waters and sunscreen to staff. The new principal also showed up with ice cream, which is a definite way to buy my affection. More than half of them stayed late to pack up tables and EZ-up shades and scraps of balloons before crawling, exhausted and sweaty into our cars to go home for a cold beverage.

    Next Year

    During the committee discussion, we had concerns about our families from the local RV park and foster home. “What if families don’t have cars?”

    We aren’t the only ones worried about this:

    We had a full plan in-place for families who wanted to walk the route, but I wish we’d have been more intentional about assuring them it was encouraged.

    We had let our fear of COVID19 prevent us from being public about encouraging “walkers.”

    Solution: Next year, we should reach out to families that live in those areas to ask if they’re coming, assuring them that they’re welcome whether or not they actually drive. An RSVP would let us know who isn’t planning to come, and we could reach out to them personally.

    Initially, we had planned to check student names against our master list and give stickers or decals for any honors they had earned (CJSF, Lion of the Year, 4.0 GPA), but we scrapped the idea. Decorating cars with honor cords or stickers or whatever might piss off some parents. Plus, it would create a bottleneck as each student’s name is checked against a huge list to see which honors they get.

    Solution: Mail the decorations home a week before, with instructions “Include this honor on your car when you drive through!”

    Also, I had intended to call the local papers that morning to invite them to drive through, but I was more busy with prep than I thought, and it just didn’t happen.

    Solution: Call them a few days before, silly!

    The only issue we had that day was toward the end of the two hours, a little bit of traffic making the right turn out of the parking lot onto Covina Blvd. We weren’t able to get Sheriff’s Deputies to direct traffic due to the Black Lives Matter protests.

    Solution: Have a deputy on Covina Blvd to keep traffic moving.

    It was a great time, and I am super proud of how smoothly it went. If you want to try that with your school, feel free to email or tweet me with your questions.

    ~Matt “CongratulationsThanksForComingWindowsUpPlease” Vaudrey

    UPDATE 29 June 2020: For the Video Promotion (which was posted a few hours before the Drive-Through, I should have added subtitles in Spanish. The emails auto-translated, but I wish I’d have included subtitulos en espaC1ol para la gente que no leen el ingC)s.

  • Admin Report Card – December 2019

    “Be brave! Take a grand risk! Let your students grade you!”

    superhero woman flexing her bicep with a big smile and her cape hanging behind her

    Dozens of times, I’ve said those words in a workshop, a keynote, or a Google Slam, proclaiming the benefits of real, honest feedback from the students we serve.

    Each time I b as a teacher b gave the Teacher Report Card, I took the results with a grain of salt. Of course, Keyonna would give me low marks since she was kicked out of class the day before.

    As an Instructional Coach, the feedback was overwhelmingly glowing and positive, since I was the problem-solver who never had to stick around long enough to make a mistake or a tough decision. “Of course, Vaudrey is helpful and delightful!” the Coach Report Card said.

    Then I became a school administrator. I knew b in theory b that I would struggle at first, that there would be many hard lessons, and that I would likely make rookie mistakes that hurt the feelings of my staff.

    Reading their feedback on the first Admin Report Card was hard, probably because my ego had been padded with the Coach Report Card for the last five years. Wincing through the narratives, I found four themes, presented here with examples from my staff’s submissions.*

    Energetic

    Your energy and smile are such a treat!
    You energy has always been the best part of you. It is infectious and I appreciate that you seem to have it no matter what kind of day it has been.
    You have a positive attitude and seem to love being here.
    You check in with kind words and positivity.

    Too Nice

    Maybe you’re too nice to the kids sometimes? Sometimes they deserve a harsher consequence than they seem to get.
    Sometimes students who display poor behavior have been allowed to get away with it.
    You need to be tougher with discipline.

    Dismissive & Condescending

    You should really try to get to know us on a deeper level.
    You may hear what I tell you, but you don’t act upon it.
    Sometimes [you make me feel] as if I’m not even there.
    PLEASE make a real effort to not be so dismissive. We are all educated adults and deserve your respect.

    Good Listener

    You make me feel comfortable.
    Valued. Heard.
    You make me feel important.
    You’re readily available to talk.
    I’ve never felt like he feels he is better than any other person.

    Presenting all of my Report Card responses to the staff in a packet (and the other administrators’ responses, too) generated a lot of feelings on the staff. For our teachers, the most frustrating lines from the packets were “mean and bullshit.” This was in stark contrast to the constructive feedback that was kind, but accurate.

    During our chats the rest of the day, I sketched up…

    *ahem*

    The Feedback Matrix

    Quadrant I (blue region, kind and accurate) is the most helpful feedback. An example from back in my teacher days said, “You sometimes ignore me, even if I raise my hand. You always call on the same smart kids and I feel like I’m not needed.”

    Kind, but accurate. It gave me clear actions I could take to get improve in my profession (and I did).

    Loads of our staff were very supportive in shouting down the comments from Quadrant III (gray region, mean bullshit), saying, “Those people are just toxic, and you’re not likely to win their approval ever.”

    My hope is to move people from Quadrants II (green region, mean and accurate) and IV (pink region, kind and bullshit) into Quadrant I.

    If a staff filled out the Report Card with kind bullshit (“You’re doing great! Keep it up! You’ve got a hard job!”), then they could be encouraged to be more accurate. Seeing the Admin team acknowledge the areas for growth might encourage the staff to be more honest with us.

    Additionally, some people who were accurate and mean (“The office discipline is a waste of everyone’s time. I wish Vaudrey would do his job!”). Hopefully, they were encouraged to be more kind with their accurate feedback (once they saw all the meanness put together).

    Regardless, it was a helluva day.

    a man giving a deep sigh and slow exhale, his cheeks puffed out, holding a marker
    image: Health Essentials

    If you’re an administrator considering this, I offer three suggestions:

    1.) Read every line

    After sharing my results with the staff, a few teachers came up to dismiss specific lines in my feedback.
    “Vaudrey’s a racist? Really? That’s total bullshit.”

    My response was something like, “Thank you, but even if that person was trying to hurt my feelings, I’m looking for the grain of truth in every submission. It’s very likely that person knew that accusation would hurt the most, but I still reflected on it, looking for places to do better.”

    2.) Highlight the results

    The other assistant principal gave me this idea; highlighting results that hovered around a certain theme. I highlighted of my “Energetic and positive” comments with yellow, so I could see patterns and (in theory) figure out what percentage of the results.

    I think researchers call this “coding for Qualitative Analysis,” but I just called it “making sense and looking for themes.”

    If you choose to ask for feedback like this, it will be easy to dwell on the lines that hurt the most. First, go through your submissions (or spreadsheet) and highlight the happy ones. It’ll be easier to stomach the painful stuff if you remember that a lot of students/staff think you’re doing great.

    3.) Share your reflection

    When I was a teacher, I would ask students about the themes I saw in their responses. “Many of you said that I only call on the same few people. What are some ways that you think I could do a better job?” My students not only had loads of ideas that I had never considered (many from other teachers on campus), but also felt more comfortable in my class, knowing that I was willing to learn and grow alongside them.

    At our staff meeting this week, several staff said they were impressed at our bravery and vulnerability, sharing our feedback with everybody, warts and all.

    Hopefully, we’ll look back on that time as a moment where the whole staff began to be more vulnerable with each other and grow together.

    ~Matt “Energetic, Kind, Condescending, Listener” Vaudrey

    *We were very clear with the staff that it was anonymous and they should let loose on us. To that end, I’ve respected their privacy here by paraphrasing and re-writing the themes. In past years on this site, I’ve published the results unedited, but that wouldn’t be fair to my staff for this year.

    UPDATE: 22 May 2021 – If you want to modify that Feedback Matrix, click here to make your own copy.

  • Dean of Students

    Dear Diary,

    I am a school administrator now!

    You can relax, Diary; Ibm not breaking up with you. Blogging has been a sizeable part of my life and career, and I wouldnbt be the reflective, growth-focused educator that I am without you listening to my thoughts for the last thirteen years.

    The last five years as Instructional Technology Coach serving the staff at Lone Hill Middle School have prepared me very well to be the Dean of Students at Lone Hill Middle School:

    b> Wiring projectors
    b> Configuring Apple TV resolution
    b> Gradebook support
    b> Tracking down work orders for email passwords
    b> Gathering data reports to place students in appropriate math classes

    Much like adding garlic to a dish, there is an underlying flavor in all of my teacher interactions: a power differential that wasnbt there before, even when I was a coach and bjust a teacher like you, but without students.b My relationship with the teachers on campus is a little different now.

    A dish of garlic shrimp, garnished with parsley.
    image: Dinner at the Zoo

    Sure, they all still know they can ask me for support with anything; Ibve given my cell number away to a dozen new people this week, and Ibve had staff drop by my new office and ask for my input, just because we know each other.

    Diary, it is my sincere hope for the year that my desire to serve my staff and students softens the blow for any hard conversations. I care deeply about getting all students and staff what they need to be successful, and that care has only gotten stronger in the last 13 years.

    It’s been two days with students and I’m already finding my place on staff.

    It turns out that unbridled enthusiasm and treating everyone with respect makes me a pretty good fit.

    Story of the week: After the study hall period (called PAW, the last period of the day), a brand-new baby 6th grader asked me: “Excuse me. After my PAW class, where do I go?”

    Me: Honey, school is out. You go home.

    (Big smile) “Oh! Okay! Thanks!”

    ~Matt “Wait… what’s a Dean?” Vaudrey

    “It’s like an Assistant Principal, but I don’t work all summer… Yes, just like Ms. KT the Assistant Principal… it’s pronounced VAH-dree…Yes, you can call me Mr. V.”

  • Big Shifts, Little Trainings

    There’s a 100% chance that I’m paraphrasing this idea from someone, but it was a half-baked idea we discussed over lunch, and I’m expanding it here.

    <triumphant voice>

    The Biggest Challenge in Effective Professional Development

    When getting a group of Educators in the room for P.D. (Professional Development), there are three forces at play.

    1.) What the administrator or director thinks is necessary.
    2.) What the teacher thinks is necessary.
    3.) What the trainer or consultant thinks is necessary.

    In a dream sequence, the teachers and administrators both have a shared idea of the work, and they bring in an expert to help them make progress.

    three people pulling the same chain, which is attached to a weight

    Sometimes those three things are all pulling in different directions; I’ve definitely sat in trainings where I wanted practical classroom management strategies, the administrator wanted to raise math achievement, and the presenter had a litany of software tools to show me.

    three people holding chains, pulling in three different directions

    Not much progress was made.

    Robert Kaplinsky notes (and cites some research) about how Teachers don’t often get the amount of P.D. they want/need, and it’s not a stretch to suggest that neither Teachers nor Admin are aware of that research (I definitely wasn’t).

    As a classroom teacher, I was often confident that I understood best what we needed. After all, we’re the ones in the classroom with our kids all the time.

    Sometimes the teachers and administrator are united in what they want, but the presenter…

    b+ might have some new research to share,
    b+might extend the idea past what the teachers and admin were expecting,
    b+or they might be all excited about a fresh idea and completely ignore the contract they signed with the school.

    You know… hypothetically.

    two people holding a chain, pulling against a person holding the other end of the chain.

    When I’m consulting with a district or speaking at an event, I’m most often the person on the right in the image above; trying to convince a room of people that they’ll like what I’m cooking, even though it’s not what they ordered.

    a pile of pasta with peas and parmesan.
    “Yeah, I know you ordered a bacon burger, but this is better for you in the long run and you’ll be glad to got it. Trust me; we’ve just met and I don’t know anything about you.”

    Here’s an example: earlier this month, I kicked off day two of #AddItUp in St. Louis, and my keynote focused on bravery and transparency in risk-taking.

    I gave lots of research backing up my idea, concrete examples of how to encourage risk-taking, and some free takeaways so teachers could start being braver.

    And.

    I bookended the teacher-stuff with a lot of hard topics for white folks to think about.

    b+Students of color are suspended and expelled more frequently than their white peers, beginning before Kindergarten.
    b+If we aren’t brave with stuff we don’t understand, we’ll never get better, and that includes interacting with race relations.
    b+We must model bravery for students and staff, and that means failing publicly because growth is important. Watch me as I do that exact thing.

    Consensus is hard, and it’s rare to get 100% agreement, even with a school site that serves the same population of students. If we wait until everyone is ready, we’ll be too late.

    Quote from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr: "The time is always right to do what is right."

    And yeah, I lured my audience to the auditorium to discuss risk, then offered input on whiteness, a dish they didn’t order.

    It’s my hope that they will be more interested in the dish after seeing it. Maybe not today, but eventually.

    My role as a P.D. provider is to smush big-picture change (Equity, racism, special education) into accessible topics (bravery, Appetizers, Desmos). On conference applications, I don’t often mention those big-picture topics, but I sure as hell will mention them once y’all are in the room.*

    Equally important is a humility on my part; I must be open to the idea that I’m pulling hard on something that isn’t important, but I think it is.
    Gotta keep listening.

    That’d be a good sticker to put on a laptop.

    ~Matt “Keep Listening” Vaudrey

    P.S. If you have research or ideas about this kind of thing, I recommend you hop into this thread with author and education expert Ilana Horn, who has much more academic chops than I do about this (and about everything).

    *If you’re an administrator or conference-application reader, and the above post sounds like a bait-and-switch, ask yourself; how many workshops that explicitly mention the hard topics are you supporting?
    Most often, it’s zero, so that’s why I smush equity into a workshop on warm-up activities.

  • Phases

    I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and I’m writing to share some of the thoughts that have interrupted my nights.

    Phase One

    My last several blog posts all orbit around a central theme;

    What kind of impact do I want to have on the field of Education?

    I’ve had a few thousand students pass through my rosters, and for many of them, my impact was limited to just the math. There is a handful of them who find me on Facebook or Twitter, but I made a real-life impact on very few of them.

    a pepperoni pizza from Round Table Pizza with the logo in the bottom right
    Pictured: Adequate for a specific time or event, but not outside of that

    Phase Two

    Phase two of my career has been focused on Adults. I’ve been the Ed/Tech Instructional Coach in Bonita for the last five years, and that’s coming to an amicable end next month. (More on that here.)

    During that five years, I’ve traveled the country, encouraging teachers and asking some hard questions about our craft. It’s been exciting and empowering.

    But there are limitations to how effective I can be as a consultant.

    a fancy chocolate milkshake
    Pictured: Glamorous, but unfulfilling in the long-term

    Phase Three

    So here’s what I want next:

    I want to be back on a school site and part of a staff.
    I want to know some students and parents by name.
    I want to be responsible for incremental growth over time.
    I want to help students and staff feel included and heard.
    I want to shine a light on practices that are hurting students from marginalized populations.

    a turkey and cheese sandwich on hearty bread with lettuce, tomato, and cheese all visible.
    Pictured: Sustaining and sustainable

    Andbif by some miracle, I can check all those boxesbI want a pony.

    That might be the most accessible goal on the list.

    For the last week or so, I’ve been spending a few hours a day on the campus of one of my middle schools, shadowing the Assistant Principal.

    It’s been absolutely nothing like I thought.

    What does the AP do?

    In my book of Education, I thought I had accurately written the chapter on What An Assistant Principal Does On A School Site.

    The first day of shadowingband every day sincebI have rewritten lines and crossed out sentences and scribbled in the margins of that chapter. I have realized that I actually know very little about what the AP does.

    The secretary and I had this exchange yesterday:

    Secretary: How’s your day going?
    Me: Great!
    Secretary: Having fun?
    Me: Nope! But learning a lot!

    a bowl of shrimp pad thai, with noodles, shrimp, several types of vegetables and garnish all visible.
    Pictured: Way more involved than I thought, with way more ingredients, but doable

    Shadowing the Middle School AP has been great; she’s had me investigate lunchtime fights, run reports for state testing, and tackle the Master Schedule with her. She’s excellent at her job and is quite good at helping me learn it.

    And within all those complex skill sets, there’s a sense of compassion and a focus on students that keeps me interested in the position.

    All those staff in the front office care deeply about getting kids what they need to be successful. Just like I did when I was a classroom teacher*.

    Being a school administrator is way more complex and way more exhausting than I thought. And I still wanna do it.

    Even if it’s months or years before I feel effective.
    Even if I stumble and do it wrong.
    Even if it’s not as glamorous as being Mr. Keynote Speaker.

    I want to be a school administrator.

    ~Matt “Mister… Bahdri?” Vaudrey

    *and if I don’t find an Assistant Principal job, I will be back in the class next year. More on that in a future post.

  • Focusing Impact

    My kids love to play with the hose in the backyard.

    We live in the semi-desert of Southern California, so it’s too hot to play without a sprinkler for about 8 weeks during the summer, but they’re even thrilled to dance in the rain yesterday, as the rest of the country is grappling with record snows.

    Anyway. They really like the nozzle below.

    image: elitza

    My daughter likes the mist setting, she can spray a little bit of water all over the place without soaking anything.

    That’s a lot of how I feel about my job as a coach: spreading a tiny bit of water all over.

    (Astute readers will note this is the second recent reference between water and instructional coaching. Yep. Keep reading.)

    In the last few years, getting a bird’s-eye view of capital-E-Education has made me awaken more to the world outside the four walls of my classroom. Public education must be effective for all students, and my Equity bone has been aching more and more.

    So I want to focus my impact, twisting the top of this nozzle, to be less spread-out and more focused.

    image: nomadswe.co

    As noted in recent posts, a job focused on relationships is more likely to produce growth. A site-level administrator would have more concentrated impact, more time to build relationships with staff, and more authority to produce equitable conditions for students and staff.

    All the chatter about becoming an Administrator is due to something I learned in August: My job as Ed/Tech Coach expires in June.

    Now, I’m not upset about this; like many TOSA jobs, my position was designed to have a shelf-life, and five years ain’t a bad run for an Instructional Coach.

    And b if I’m honest b it’s probably time.

    Of all the teachers I supported last year, 51% of them were classes I visited only once during the year, and never saw again.

    Nearly three out of every four classrooms I visit are people I only see once or twice a year. It’s hardly hyperbole to guess that I’m not improving the instruction of those teachers, which begs the question,

    Do we need a full-time instructional coach if I’m only driving change in 25% of my visits?

    Now, there’s a much larger conversation to be had about effective instructional coaching and an ideal staff-to-coach ratio (It’s probably not 1,000:1), but the conversation I want to have is about impact.

    I want to focus my impact on a smaller group, and it’s becoming clearer that site-level administration is a good next step in that direction.

    So as the 2018-19 school year wraps up and I clean out my desk, I’ll be looking that direction.

    More to come.

    ~Matt “Ready to be Mr. Vaudrey again” Vaudrey

  • Seeds

    This morning, my friend-and-colleague Sarah and I spoke on the phone, exploring this tweet of hers:

    As you may have read earlier this week, I’m on the verge of something.

    The story of the last few years of my career is one ofB deciding what kind of impact I want to have on the field of capital-E-Education.

    In those few years, my impact has gone beyond the 150ish students in my classes and spread to other educators around the country. Twitter, this blog, and a book, theB impact I’ve had on Education is more than I thought it would be.

    But what about legacy?

    I got an email today from a teacher in Massachusetts with questions about one of my lessons that she ran in her class. Of course, I respond with excitement and support, answering her questions and prompting further learning. I’m not sure if we’ve ever met, but I’m happy to support here, even without any kind of relationship.

    What really gets me interested, however is growth over time.

    Sprout by AnastasiaW

     

    Sarah pointed out on the phone that our job in getting teachers to try something new and to grow is like spreading seed on a garden or a lawn. When we take fistful of seeds and try to spread them, some fall on rocks, some onto the path, and some onto the soil where they grow into plants. (We realized later that it was theB parable of the seeds from Matthew 13, but … like… from an Education standpoint.)

    I work in a school district, building relationships with teachers to encourage them to grow. Sarah works for a curriculum company, and she prepares teachers to grow into new instructional practices.

    Before a legacy, before the impact, there has to be a relationship. Someone has to till the soil, to water it, to pull the weeds, so that when the new idea comes, it has somewhere to grow.

    image: Monica

    That’s what I want to do. I’m happy to support teachers around the world with Barbie Bungee and Appetizers and Desmos and all the other fun things I know about… for an hour at a time. Or a day at a time. It’s fun to get teachers excited about stuff, especially when I’m one of the first to expose them to tools like WODB or Twitter. As Sarah texted to me later:

    When you have to wear the Consultant Hat, you can’t afford the time needed for the relationship you need (to create the change you want). As a school admin, you’d have the time to make the relationships.

     

    I want my day job in Education to focus on relationships first.

    More on that later.

     

    ~Matt “You sound frustrated; what’s up?” Vaudrey

    P.S.B Nanette Johnson’s talk on Legacy is also relevant here.

    ShadowCon 2018 – Nanette Johnson from Shadow Con on Vimeo.