Category: Coaching

Tough Questions
After dinner, taking a swim in the Atlantic, stopping by the Carnegie debrief dinner, and strolling on the beach with some of the staff, I returned to the bar on a Thursday night after giving the keynote address that morning a few weeks ago.

Around the table are some folk I’d met at the conference earlier that day.B One of themB had asked for some of my time, so I was glad to catch him in a social setting.

After several minutes of me listening and nodding, the group finally asked me some hard questions.

Questions that nobody in my current circle is asking me and questions that I won’tB likely answer how they expect. Questions that made me pause and write them down in a Google Doc titled “Questions to ask myself later.” Questions like:
- Where do you see yourself in five years?
- You just spoke toB a room of 150, how will you get to a room of 500? A thousand?
- Do you want a drink? We have a tab open.
Vision and Math

My initial responses headed down the usual, paved path of most of the country’s educators:

“In five years, I’d like to be in progress on an Administrative Credential. I could go for an Assistant Principal job, but probably not a Principal. Of course, I’d be happy to return to the classroom. I really love teaching; in fact, I may return to the classroom and retire from there.”

The director-type on the end shakes her head and pounds her drink on the table. “Bullshit. You’re eyeing the classroom because it’s easy and you know you’d be awesome at it. Think bigger. What are some goals that scare the shit out of you? Get outside your comfort zone.”

Boy, she pulls no punches.

Am I scared of big goals?

I don’t think so.

The classroom is a comfortable place for me, but that’s where student relationships are the closest. Relationships are far more important to me than math.

After attempting to communicate this, it becomes clear that they aren’t buying it.

Next to me, a guy says, “You may have impacted… fifty teachers in the room? Let’s say fifty. Each of those teachers have, what… 150 students? Think of that impact; think of how many students you’ve impacted today.” He raises his eyebrows.

From the end of the table, one of them says, “What would you do if you could impact aB million students?”

“Look at it this way,” I clarify. “I may have impacted 50 teachers today to change something. That’s probably… at the most, a 5% impact on fifty teachers times 150 students. If I impact 40B teachers in my districtB at, say, 80%, that’s likely still a greater net impact than if I am a full-time speaker.”

We debated for a while longer until IB noticed my flight was due to leave in 7 hours. I decide to leave on a high note.

“Okay. The dream that scares the shit out of me; I’d like to start a Teaching School in the same vein as a Teaching Hospital, like a lab where pre-service teachers could observe, learn, and practice alongside veteran teachers in cohorts. Glass walls in the back of all classrooms and it’d be paired with a nearby university, just like a Teaching Hospital. The teacher candidates get tons of classroom experience and observation hours. Plus, it draws teachers and students to the school, who are certain that it’s a great place to be.”

The director-type on the end raises her eyebrows. “Fuck. I would love that.”

I strolled back to my fancy hotel room, my head spinning with new questions and new ideas for my own career, wondering if I could steal director-type to run this kind of school.

There’s a lot to think about.

Days Later

I realize that there’s an easy way to compare the impact of various careers.

I made a spreadsheet.

It’s clear that there’s no contest. Even after adjustingB the numbers to be crappy curriculum vs. mediocre coach, it’s tough to argue against a curriculum writer impacting the most students.

Still not enough to make me pursue that route, though. While “student impact” is a strong enough statement for a business card or a grant proposal, I’m not convinced that it’s specific enough goal for me.

Do More of What You Love

This week at Twitter Math Camp 2015, keynote speakerB Christopher Danielson encouraged the attendees to figure out what we love, then do more of that.

I love personal growth.

Students slowly buildingB their risk-taking muscles.
Friends having tough conversations that will strengthen a relationship.
Teachers plucking up courage to try new strategies.
SpousesB learning more about what makes each other tick.
A group of pre-service teachers figuring out their own classroom management style and defining a classroom culture.

I love these things because I love personal growth.

AndB itB can be done with only one person; I don’t need a million.

~Matt “Teacher of Teachers… of Teachers” Vaudrey

P.S. A few of these “lab schools” already exist. Some other dreamers and I are buying bricks to build one in Southern California.

If you’re interested, let’s talk more about it.
July 27, 2015
Principal Vaudrey

Stacy, one my teacher sisters, shouted across the playground, “Why don’t you ask him? Mr. Vaudrey! Mariah has a question for you!”

It was the end of the day, and I was walking back to my car as Stacy’s 4th graders walked to the bus.

Mariah blushed and squeaked, “What if you were our principal?”

I grinned and said, “Maybe someday, but for now, you have an excellent principal.”

After nine months as EdTech Coach of Bonita USD, I’m starting to smell an administrative credential in my future. My wife made me promise to keep a job for at least three years before chasing the next thing, and there are plenty of ways to grow that will take longer than three years.

But it doesn’t cost anything to dream. So I’m dreaming.

Usually, I dream of admin credentials and Alaska. *Gasp* What if I were an administrator IN Alaska?!

Much like Mariah’s current principal, my style would be hands-off, empowering teachers to take risks and figure stuff out, knowing they have my support. I’ll be picky as hell in interviews, so over time, my staff will be full of people like Jo-Ann, Elizabeth, and Jed.

However–since you’re reading–I’d like to share a couple things I saw this year that have no place in my school and that I would absolutely chastise immediately (but I can’t this year as a teacher coach).

Bad Grammar

Your an educator and your students are their to learn. You’re door should have correct sentence structure on it, so there always seeing good grammar modeled.

If you noticed the problems with the previous paragraph, you may come work at my school.

Being Mean To Kids

During state testing, the bell rang for lunch. Two 3rd-graders whispered, “Yesssss!”.

The teacher stood up straight and barked, “That’s three minutes off lunch, right there! You gotta be quiet during testing.”

He has no place at my school.

Months earlier–during a demo in a first-grade class–the teacher interrupted me and pulled a squirelly, excited, 6-year-old to the side of the carpet, directed him to sit, barking, “If you can’t sit still, you won’t get to use the iPad today.”

And he burst into tears.

It gets worse.

Offensive or Ignorant Remarks

It’s eight weeks into my new job as Tech Coach. I’m sitting in the lounge with the principal and three veteran teachers, pleased to have some camaraderie as I commute through the 13 district schools in my car.

“My husband is a cop,” says Margie, swallowing a mouthful of spinach salad. “And he says that every time he pulls somebody over now, they’re filming on their phones!”

“And thanks to Twitter, that video can be shared publicly, so everybody can tell their stories,” I added, acutely aware that the conversation was about to go horribly.

“Yeah! The cops are tried in the court of public opinion before their shift is even over,” adds the Principal.

“Like this whole Mike Brown thing!” Adds Paige.

Uh oh.

“This huge kid tried to take the cop’s gun, and now he’s like… some martyr!” Margie stabs another mouthful of spinach salad. “He’s a thug!”

I freeze my expression and my toes curl in my shoes at the word “thug.”

“There are a bunch of guys like that in jail,” adds Cynthia adds with a grin. “Let ’em rot.”

Holy shit. I gulp the mouthful of banana that I forgot to chew, sit up straight, and take a deep breath… then I freeze.

I just met these people. If I unload on them here, I’ll lose their respect forever.

Exhale.

If I say nothing and get to know them over the next few months, then our next conversation about race and privilege will be better received and might actually change their minds.

I left the lounge and sat shaking in my car in the parking lot, not totally sure that I wisely handled this situation: playing the long game and tolerating racism in the meantime.

I recounted the whole thing to Stevens via Voxer and he concluded that yes, that situation was fucked up, which is a phrase neither of us use lightly nor often.

Except when people use their power for harming kids. Those people make my blood boil and have no place at my school.

Confident Meanness

“Matt! Can I borrow you?” A blonde, middle-aged teacher in the back row waves me over during a break in our curriculum training.

“My students all recorded video reports for their biographies, and I want to put them into Google and print out a Q code that parents can scan during Open House. Can you help me with that?”

I grin, “Sure! How about after all of this is over?” I don’t correct her vocabulary; she’ll figure it out eventually.

“That sounds great!” She replies, “I’m a huge tard with this stuff, so you might have to go slow.”

I wince visibly on the word tard, but I don’t know this teacher’s name and figure I must have misunderstood her.

“You used the word tard before. What did you mean by that?” Playing confusion tends to gently remind, without telling her what I would like to say.

“Oh, like a retard,” she declares. Nobody in her row of tables turns to look. “I’m really slow when it comes to tech stuff, but I do want to learn. I’m gonna write everything down.”

I’m heading to her class after this. We’ll see how it goes.

I doubt she’ll earn a spot at my school.

~Matt “Principal V” Vaudrey

UPDATE 2 June 2015: Andrew respectfully pointed out the need of a Principal to be gentle when needed. We both agree that a relationship provides reciprocated input between admin and staff, and a Principal must be a listener first. My rant-like tone here is rooted in helpless frustration for the things I cannot change.

May 18, 2015
Dear New Teachers
It gets better.

Really, it sucks now, but you’ll have more and more great days and less and less days that you wanna quit and move in with your parents.

See? Math proves it.

Working with new teachers in my role as a coach, I ask the question: “Why are you a teacher?” Their responses are as diverse as the teachers themselves:
- I want to make a difference for kids
- I love English and I want to share that love with kids
- I had a terrible History teacher and I want to make sure there are some great ones out there, so I chose to be a great teacher
- I want summers off
- I want a paycheck
- I don’t want to work hard
Four years ago, I was hired at Moreno Valley, and the clerk in HR that processed my application said, “I can tell which teachers will make it and which won’t.”

While she was probably full of it, you b the new teacher b can probably tell which of your classmates aren’t going to retire from the field of education. They’ll retire from Plumbing or Business or Politics or something that has nothing to do with kids or teaching.

Education is a noble and just profession charged with equipping the young future-citizens of the nation, and it’s an honor that you get to be part of the solution every day.

You, new teacher, got into this job for one of the reasons above, and that reason alone will sustain you in this career. If, at any point, you realizeB This isn’t worth it to me,

…you’re right

… and you should quit.

Seriously. Quit.

Leave the field before you get jaded, complacent, grumpy, or rude. Leave theB field of education before you cast a shitty shadow on teachers who love their job and want to make a difference.

Leave before you make the rest of usB look bad.

If you choose to stay, be prepared for hardest job you’ve ever had.
Be prepared for chancesB to affirm students instead of disciplining them.
Be prepared to work your ass off and still not be very good at your job.
Then be prepared to have your contract expireB and start all over again.

[Be Prepared joke goes here]
All of those things were necessary for me. See, after my first year of teaching (the worst year of my life),B I had to figure out if the hard work was worth it for the theoretical payoff.

I decided that it was. That the potential to positively impact the lives of young people was worth late nights, low pay, and being asked “How old are you?” all the time.

Me in 2007. Notice I don’t yet look very happy to be a teacher.

Further, teaching was the first thing in my life where I didn’t succeed quickly (you know… besidesB every sport during teenage years). It was years before I considered myself an average teacher, and I’m only recently getting affirmed by others as “a good teacher”.

Students have cried in my classroom to me (more times than I can count), have shared their lives with me, their breakups, their addictions, and their struggles. As a teacher, I worked hard to be excellent at my job and the by-products of that role are still paying dividends.

A family friend is wrapping up her first year in the classroom as a Teacher’s Aide. She had this to say about her career:

When I describe my students and their lives to my dad, he cries every time. My friends gasp and cover their mouthes when I describe the neighborhood where my students live. Thankfully, I’ve been outside of the room every time one of my “all-stars” gets into a fight, so my only role with them is positive. I have students who don’t know their times tables in the same room with students who are bored with the slow pace of the teacher and I have to find a way to engage them all.
I love my job and I can’t imagine doing anything else.

Dear New Teacher,

It gets better.

Be patient and keep working hard; it will get better.

~Matt Vaudrey
May 5, 2015
The Givachit Scale

Yesterday, John Stevens and I have a workshop for the lovely math teachers of Madera County. It was fantastic.

John walks a crew through Barbie Zipline.

“Which one is more Mullety?

The drive up and down gave us plenty of time in the car to listen to Jimmy Fallon skits and female-fronted rockB bands, but also time to discuss our new roles as EdTech Coaches in our respective districts.

Our conversation landed on:

Policing Student Behavior

We knew of coaches (and other adults on school campus) that tend to bark at students for wrong-doing. When we were children, the “it takes a village” mindset was pervasive;

…kids didn’t misbehave around adults quite as much. There was a good chance they’d tell your parents or just take care of discipline themselves.

In the last couple decades, many parents have been empowered to give their kids whatever the hell they want and to bark atB other adults for offering co-parenting when they’re unavailable.

Comedian Chris Titus has a lot to say on the parenting shift of the last 30 years, but this part stands out to me:

I never misbehaved in my neighborhood, even though my dad worked a lot. You know why? Because I had neighbors. And if my dad wasn’t around to beat my ass… someone would pinch-hit for him.

As Coaches, we often go into classes to support teachers.

Teachers who need support have disproportionately… rowdy classes.

Today, I watched a 3rd-grade boy slap a girl on the thigh when she wasn’t looking, she squealed and hit him in the arm. No harm done.

At the high-school level, a colleague of mine watched a boy make disparaging remarks about a girlB all period, until the girlB stood, clocked him in the face, and screamed, “Fuck you!”

The Givachit Scale

Here’s why I wouldn’t take those students to the office if I were standing in the back of the room.

Students have a bunch of adults in their lives. The graph below (which, like all my material, is copiouslyB researched and not at all made up on the spot) describes the Givachit value for each group.

During my teaching career, many more students “Givachit” what their siblings think of their behavior than their pastor. Teachers will have the highest return by contacting those members of the student’s social circle with the largest slice. I’ve told Grandma about a student’s behavior and gotten much more mileage than with Mom.

Notice how tiny the slice is for District Stooge? That’s why I don’t intervene with students. Because the exchange will likely go like this:

Vaudrey (tough teacherB voice): Watch your mouth.
Unruly Youth: Who the hell are you?
Vaudrey: I’m a teacher on special assignment to coach other teachers on effective integration of technology into the classroom. Watch your mouth.
Unruly Youth: What if I don’t?
Vaudrey: Then we go to the office and you get written up for defiance. What’s your name?
Unruly Youth: Barack Obama
Vaudrey: Okay, that’s it. Let’s go to the office
Unruly Youth: [continues sipping sugary drink]
Vaudrey: Okay… I’m gonna go find a security officer to escort you. Don’t move.

My family is not one to gamble, but I’d wager over half my interactions would end similarly. Odds are pretty high that the student who will curse in front of a stranger in a tie isn’t afraid of the consequences.

Also, it’s not worth my time to correct a strange teenager, considering the reciprocal scale guidingB my actions:

~Matt “Go ahead and chew gum in class” Vaudrey

March 10, 2015
How do you know all this stuff?

That question was asked by the principal at one of my Elementary schools.
Initially, he was hesitant to ask for my help. As the new EdTech Coach for the district (hired this year), he and IB were both unsure of my role at his school (or my role atB any of my 13 schools).

In September, the discussion went like this:

“How open is your staff to new ideas?” I asked cautiously, seated across from the principal of one of my 8 elementary schools. As a life-long avoider of trouble, my palms sweat a bit every time I enter the Principal’s office.

“Oh, very,” declared McKee proudly. “I show them something, they’re using it in class the next day.”

“Great! Would you say you’re the leader for those types of innovations on campus?” The keys on my iPad keyboard clack as I jot down digital notes.

McKee smiles wryly, “Not exactly. We have several on campus who are trying new and interesting things, but I can relate to those who are hesitant. It’s scary to try something new. They’re scared, but open; does that make sense?”

“Definitely,” I grin, pleased that he’s so honest about himself and his staff.

Three months later, I’m back in his office as we attempt to design a Google Form where PTA volunteers can log volunteer hours (which are then counted in a pivot table). There are dozens of similar designs in my Google Drive, but I remind myself,B this is the first one that McKee has done. Be patient.

He’s a fantastic student. Within 20 minutes, the form is done andB he’s changed the header to his school logo.

“Sweet!” I exclaim. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

McKee’s eyebrows raise and he smiles wide. “You meanB I taught something toB Matt Vaudrey?” He pumps both fists in the air.

I laugh with him, gladB that he can see the value in enlightening a peer. Beneath the desk, my feet tighten in my shoes. That’s the third time this week somebody’s said that.B Should I be worried that I’m becoming a know-it-all?

I file that thought away for later, andB McKee and IB press forward, building a master roster for lock-down drills.

“Drag that gray line down toB freeze the top row. That way, you’ll still see the header when you scroll down.” I point to column 1 on his massive, principal-sized screen.

McKeeB shakes his head, “How do youB know all this stuff?” He asks with a smile.

McKee asked the question in the most respectful way I’ve heard.B Typically, the comments are more like,

“I don’t know how you do all this stuff.”

Well… um…

“It must be nice to be so techy.”

Uh… yeah… but…

“OfB course it’s easy forB you. You’reB young.”

Ohhhh!

I bite my tongue every time I hear that last one.

Easy?

Easy?

EASY? Let me tell you about easy!

It’s often the moreB veteran teachers who pull out that line. Unfortunately for them, I taught math before I was an EdTech Coach, so I’m well prepared for that “fixed mindset” garbage.

It’s no secret that I have little tolerance for students content to be ignorant–whether a veteran teacher afraid of iPads or a 13-year-old at-risk student–but it’s tough to call out that attitude in an adultB without sounding… well…

uppity.

And no amount of cute smiling will help. Believe me.

This week, as I was in the Apple Store repairing my mother-in-law’s iPad, I finally figured out my response when people express awe at my tech-muscles.

“I just started learning it earlier than you did.”

…(Also, I mooch like crazy, ask questions on Twitter, and work really hard at figuring out things that are confusing.)

~Matt “Huge iPad Muscles, Regular-Sized Actual Muscles” Vaudrey

January 13, 2015
What’s Missing?

This tweet caught my eye last week.

@mr_stadel @robertkaplinsky @Jstevens009 @MrVaudrey do you guys think you would be more effective coaches if you taught one period a day?

b Tim McCaffrey (@timsmccaffrey) November 14, 2014

Three things on that.

1.) I’d be a way better coach

All four people tagged in that tweet can testify that credibility is the most precious commodity for an educational trainer.

Skeptics can smell B a desk jockey the minute they walk into the conference room wearing dress shoes or heels.

THIS is what teachers wear.

I’m guilty of this skepticism, too. B For the last eight years, I’ve attended CMC-South every fall, and some of the presenters are…

well….

professors.

Good… uh…. good afternoon. We… um… we received a grant in 2006…

I’d scoff silently and see if any other–more interesting–sessions were taking place in that time slot. I’m a teacher, I told myself. I’m not going to waste 90 minutes listening to this district stooge talk about “rigor”.

Now I’m the district stooge.

Teaching one period a day would allow me 55 minutes to try out those ideas that Twitter and Voxer find for me: those ideas that sound awesome and I want to immediately try in the classroom.

Teaching, however, is a lot like making fudge.

Photo credit in the link.

Every fall, I make fudge for my students before Winter Break. I buy the ingredients, set up my double boiler, line the cooling tray with wax paper, and chop almonds and walnuts.

When I had 200 students, I made 5 batches of fudge.
When I had 80 students, I made 3 batches of fudge.
This year, I’ll probably make two batches of fudge.¹

All the prep is the same, it’s just repeatingB the steps.

While I daydream about doing both roles, in reality…

2.) I’d be aB wayB worse coach.

If I taught one period of students, I’m still prepping the lesson, entering grades, hanging student work on the wall, developing seating charts, and cutting out colored paper for aB class set of congruentB triangle cards.

All for only one batch of fudge.
Seems like an awful waste of energy.

As a one-period-per-day teacher, I have department meetings, IEPs, back-to-school night, and a heavenly host of other duties that keep me from meeting teachers as a coach.

Many would re-schedule.
Most would just give up trying to get a hold of me.

“Never mind. I’ll make my own overhead transparencies.”

It wouldn’t be just 55 minutes that I’m a teacher, it’d beB closer to half the workday. That’s hoursB each week that I’m not researching 1st grade math apps for the iPads, prepping workshops for getting departments on Google Drive, or giving demo lessons to seniors on QR codes.

A part-time teacher and part-time coach is significantly less profitable for my district than a full-time teacher orB full-time coach.

What’s most likely in this scenario is…

3.) I’d do a mediocre job of both

“Sorry, students. Mr. Vaudrey is unavailable for math tutoring after school, during lunch, before school, or during prep period, andB he also leans heavily on his department and grade-level teams to pull his weight on parent-conferences, student discipline, and late work.”

“Sorry, teachers. Vaudrey understands how busy your schedule is; he’s a teacher, too! His mornings are swamped scrambling through a lesson that he delivers once. But he can’t improve it for secondB period;B there is no second period!B After a 40-minute lunch at his desk answering Tech emails, he eventually settles on supporting a teacher at his school site instead of driving across town. His teammates at the middle school get most of his Ed Tech coaching, while other schools rarely see him.”

For the time being, I must be content to beB justB a coach, and mooch classrooms for demo lessons whenever I can. Those students will never beB my students, but it’ll keep my chops sharp for the next time I present a grant summary at CMC.

While I miss the day-to-day routine of classroom teaching, I’m also thrilled to be building Google Presentations on a Chromebook while listening to SciShow and sitting on an exercise ball.

I wore costumes most of the day on Saturday.

Although… I did sillyB stuff in the classroom, too.
Silly is kinda tough to switch off.

Everyone in this pictureB coaches teachers while in costume. Only one has a mouthful of food.

~Matt “I still miss my running shoes” Vaudrey

P.S. John StevensB also wrote a response to Tim’s tweet.
P.P.S Check out Felix’s response in the comments below.

^{1. It’s not a linear relationship. The 200 students got much smaller pieces than the 80, but here’s a quick model that I’m quite sure can be improved.b)}

November 18, 2014
Good Ideas
Here’s what’s happening.

Music Cues

A teacher, previously averse to new tech tools, installed iTunes and added my collection of Music Cues to it. She’s planning on using a few to start up, then adding more as she gets more comfortable.

That exact story has happened at least 8 times this month and I’m thrilled about it.

EdTech Tip

This video, I’ll be honest, took most of a workday to shoot and edit, but that included Googling color schemes and building a graphic in Keynote (thanks to @jcorippo for that idea).

I sent that to every teacher in the district and got no less than 40 replies (TenB percent of the staff); they all began with “Oh, you’re the new Tech Coach! Can you…”
- Show me how to use SubText?
- Install iTunes on my computer?
- Fix my printer?
- Put the email icon on my desktop?
- Demo a lesson on effective research strategies for my seniors?
Attacking all those questions with the same earnest optimistic kindness is vital for my credibility as a teacher coach.

Sure, I have to differentiate my role from a Computer Technician at least once a day, but every time, the conversation leads to a firmer understanding of what I can do for that teacher.

Subtext and NewsELA Can Hold Hands

A teacher wants to have students use NewsELAB articles in theB SubtextB reader for iPad, but she has a full-time classload and wants somebody to figure it out for her.

Little did she know, that’sB exactly the kind of thing that I do.

Here’s what I told her:
1. Save the NewsELA article as a PDF and put it in your Google Drive. (There’s a Chrome ExtensionB that I use for that.)
2. On the iPad, open Google Drive and open that PDF (like youbre reading it).
3. In the top right, tap the three dots and select OPEN INb&
4. Choose Subtext.
In case any of y’all are interested.

Google Drive Training

After describing cloud storage to one teacher, she insisted I come back and get her whole department on a shared folder. That meeting was helpful for three reasons:
1. I can talk about Google Drive all day, speaking faster and faster with increasingly frantic hand gestures until I’m standing on the desk and shouting, “Real-time collaboration!”
2. They were simultaneously discussing RTIB plans, parent conferences, and the upcoming staff meeting, all while I walked them through how stuff works.
  It reminded me that not all teachers will sit quietly and follow along like we’re at a CUE conference.
  I’m on their prep period on their turf; I’ll be thankful for the time I get.
3. One of my goals for the year is to make “disciples” at each campus; teachers who are willing to try/see new stuff and would be down for me to hijack their class for a period and do a demo. This posse definitely fits that description.
If I’m honest, I do miss the classroom. I chalk that up to the discomfort that one feels inB any new position, especially one like this. I’ve essentially changed fields, but I can still daily look through the window at a job I loved and at which, I performed… better than average.

La Cucina Matematica

John Stevens and I do some Math/Tech consulting on weekends and holidays, and recently launched a website to that end.

We both share a fear of becoming shameless self-promoters who take schools’ tax dollars and don’t actually help students directly. So we’re both careful about how often we self-promote.

Check out the site. If your district has some leftover Title I money that expires this month (as ours does), we’d love to come visit and talk shop with your math teachers about how to build student creativity and problem-solving.

The “Move It!” Chrome Extension

I’m not frantically pacing a classroom anymore, I’m at a desk around 30% of the time. And I don’t wanna get fat.

This pops up everyB n minutes and won’t go away until I click DONE.

My office-mates needed little convincing that I was an odd duck, but declaring “Ten large arm circles! Let’s go, Cheryl!” sealed my fate.

I’ll be the most ripped Tech Coach in the biz… though there isn’t much competition.

~Matt “Wall Squat! Twenty Seconds!” Vaudrey
October 17, 2014
A Week in the Life
School started Monday.

For the first time in nigh a decade, I didn’t welcome students into Mr. Vaudrey’s class with a handshake and a smile.
I didn’t take roll and ask each student how to pronounce their name and “Do you prefer Bernardino or Bernie?”.
I didn’t prep a beginning-of-the-year icebreaker activity.
I didn’t even hang up colorful examples of student work or revise a syllabus.

Because for this first time in eight years, I’m not starting the year in the classroom.

In May, I accepted a job as Teacher Coach of Instructional Technology for Bonita Unified.

“But Matt, didn’t you just take a new job in March?”

Yep.

And I learned a lot while I was there, but it wasn’t for me. In this position, I’m in the classroom every day, I’m helping teachers with aB variety of needs, and I retain the title “Teacher”, which is important to me.

Here’s what I did in my first week asB EdTech Coach:
- Trained about 100 teachers on Music Cues in the classroom, which was well-received by manyB elementary teachers (a target market, in which I have very little experience and could use some credibility).
- Visited all but one of our district’s schoolsB and met principals and teachers, nearly all of whom had no idea that I was even hired, but were thrilled to hear it.
We have an EdTech Coach?!
- PerformedB bread-and-butter tasks with my new department (e.g. tag the Chromebook carts with District ID, follow up on tech needsB from New Teacher Orientation, deliver keyboards) and actually enjoyed it. As 33% of my department, we’ll likely get to know each other pretty well, and Kris and Cheryl are both a hoot.
Hoot.
- Visited 15 (wow… that’s a lot) classrooms to help teachers with various tech needs. Most of them Elementary, most of them for Music Cues, all of them delightful and eager to learn.
Here’s the cool part: I log each visit here and get the results in a spreadsheet (below), so I can quantify just how helpful I am in a given week. My new boss liked this form so much, she had me make her one, which she then showed toB her boss, who wants one, too.

Click to enlarge

And I can color-code the “Future Needs” column based on who I want to invite to a future training. For an upcoming Music Cues follow-up, all the teachers I visited who expressed interest are in green cells.

Next workshopB is probably Google Classroom, so I’ll change the formatting to show me those cells and inviteB those teachers.

Oh! And I can use formulas to separate out the email of those teachers using the first and last name, concatenated with the district email!

(Inhaler)

Seriously, if you haven’t used Concatenate yet in a spreadsheet, you are missing out.

It’s more funB than Revenge of the Sith.

“You were the chosen one!”
“I hate you!”
“=concatenate(left(D2,1),C2,”@bonita.k12.ca.us”)!”

Anyway, the new job is great and I’m thrilled to have it.

Next post:

What’s in my purse as I visit classes?

or

Matt Carries a Purse His Wife Tried to Donate to GoodWill

Stay tuned.

~Matt “Speadsheet and Star Wars Joke…this siteB is now complete.” Vaudrey
August 22, 2014
So… What Do You Do Now?

Before Spring Break, I cleaned out my classroom and left.
This week was my first week as Professional Development Specialist. In my district, we don’t actually “specialize”, but rather support teachers across all contents. I’m hoping to specialize in Tech Integration, something that our district sorely needs (and I’m assuming that’s the reason I was hired).

“Welcome aboard! Can you carry that case of soda to the fridge in the other room?”

Here are some observations:
1.) While I’m a “specialist”, I don’t actually give specialized trainings. After walking through five schools, all five mentioned a need for EdTech Integration; good news for me.

2.) Nobody working in education outside of the classroom isB in a hurry. Everyone seems to stroll between events and walk between buildings at a leisurely pace. My orientation meeting with my new bosses lasted nearly three hours, and not onceB did anybody look at the clock and wonder when 2nd period was going to end.

“I still have to pass a note to my friend and go to the bathroom and walk allthewayacrosscampusHURRYUP!”

3.) After said meeting, we went to the district office so my Director could introduce us. I immediately realized that I hadn’t had lunch yet. No bell had rung to instruct me that it was lunchtime, so I didn’t eat. As the clock rolled pastB 1:00 and marched toward 2:00, I was grumpy, faint, and didn’t enjoy parading through every cubicle in the damn building, but I managed to smile anyway.

“Everything is fine, I’m just… woo… a little light-headed.”

4.) There are three of us just hired, one was brought in a few months ago to serve as interim coordinator (my immediate supervisor) but her first official day was Monday, with me and Chris. Chris and I are the only men in a building full of women, both youngest by… we’re the youngest by about 12 seasons of the Bachelor.

Remember this guy? Season three? I was still in high school.

5.) I stayed “late” until 4:10. It’s likely that I’ll leave most days around 3:15 and have no lessons to plan, working out of my car at my school sites, asking teachers what they need to teach their best. That’s awesome.

6.) One of the line items on my orientation agenda was “Student contact is minimal”. That is not awesome, but I got to prep three elementary classes for the state test yesterday.

7.) Director said that our job descriptions for the next 10 weeks are “ambiguous”. That might be awesome.

8.) Everybody… everybodyB B mentions how young I am. Eventually, my colleagues will note that I’m skilled in EdTechB because I work hard, not because I was born after 1970. Perhaps my babyface willB grease the wheels on getting me into an EdTech training role, so I’ll keep grinning and saying “Thank you”.

If only IB actually looked like Babyface.

9.) The secretary in my department is Eve, a tiny lady in running shoes with a thick accent who is excited about everything. I love her immediately. Her cubicle is covered with paper fans from all the places she’s visited around the world, and she goes for walks during her lunch break.

10.) The storage area for all the specialists is un-interesting-ly called “The Brick Building”. There’s a big “8” spray-painted on the wall. My goal is to have everybody calling it “The Ocho” before summer. Also, it’s in total disarray and my “ambiguous” job description can hopefully include “making The Ocho into usable space and clearing out a decade’s worth of old textbooks”, which would be awesome.

11.) I’m the youngest, greenest, and tallest teacher in this building. While I may know a lot about some things nobody else does, I know very little about things that everybody else does. My attitude is one of seeking to understand new ideas and help others, not preach and inform everyone of stuff I learned on Twitter.

I’m the new kid on the block, and polite will win more friends than smart.

To show I have “The Right Stuff” and keep “Hangin Tough”.

~Matt “What’s a Specialist?” Vaudrey

April 16, 2014