Tuesday, August 6, 2013

The hardest part of the job

As a high school principal, I am often asked in various venues what the hardest part of the job is.

Last week at this time if someone would have asked me that question, I would have answered as I have done to many of our stakeholders and our greater learning community.  So let's pretend it is one week ago and I am discussing what is the hardest part of being a high school principal in a PTO meeting or perhaps one of the Parent Breakfasts that I host every two weeks.  Bear with me as we proceed on this pretend dialogue briefly.

Question 1: Is bullying and harassment a hard part of your job,  particularly on social media sites such as Tumblr, Twitter or Instagram?

Answer: Yes, certainly those are problematic leading to sometimes serious situations involving bullying, pornographic or obscene photos and harassment often spilling over into classrooms and lunchrooms. We certainly worry about and try to be proactive about social media and bullying and harassment and work to educate our students and parents. It is a difficult part of being a principal.

Question 2: Is the threat of violence in schools and the presence of weapons in schools a difficult part of your job. 

Answer: Absolutely, that is the concern of every principal of every level in every school in America.  After Sandy Hook, our district reviewed every security measure we take and we have undertaken new measures in school safety that we are still working on today and every day.  You bet, school violence is a really difficult part of being a principal, and we will continue to focus and improve our efforts in this area.

And so on.  Drugs?  Yes-- very difficult.  Communication?  A challenge. . . And so on.

Yes, a week ago if you would have asked me I would have certainly identified all of these areas and more as hard parts of being a high school principal.

Last week I would also have told you I was worried about this upcoming school year with all of the proposed changes in education.  I was worried about my opening staff presentation on Aug. 15 and the first workday.  How would we present our data, inform our staff about how we are proceeding with growth measures, OTES, our literacy focus, feedback, differentiation, the change in our special education model, meet with department chairs. . . and so on.  and so on. and so on.

Throw in that our new office carpeting hasn't been installed, our new lockers haven't been painted or installed, a resignation of an assistant principal on July 31, and schedule pickup days next week and it seemed that all of these things make being a high school principal difficult work.  Really tough.  Hard, really hard. Throw in interviewing and hiring a new assistant principal in August and it just adds to the list. Yes-- we are busy people with big problems to solve.  That's what we think most days, isn't it?

I mean, just look at all of the actual problems from above.  Wow.  I thought last week at this time that all of these things were tough.  Tougher than tough.

Well, Sunday changed all that.

"What is the hardest part of being a high school principal?"

You see, on Sunday, I got up, clicked on my smart phone about 9 am and saw numerous Messages and Voicemails that brought me the news that reminded me of the REAL answer to the question.

One of our students had been killed in a tragic car accident early that morning.  The world stopped turning for an instant for all of us.  I had to sit down.  Try to get info.  What? Stephen?  Stephen can't be dead.  We had hugged on the stage of graduation with an O-H and a response of I-O as we were sending him off to my alma mater of Ohio State.  He was going to be a great Buckeye and study chemical engineering.

Stephen?  One of the most popular seniors in the class of 2013.  Baseball player, football player, excellent student leader, the kind of boy you would want your daughter to marry.

Sunday was filled with tweets, posts, messages and phone calls.  Everything else at work and at home stopped.  It just didn't matter anymore.  And at the end of this day, the most amazing event came together with the positive power of social media.

Hundreds and hundreds of people swarmed onto our baseball field starting as early as 8:30 pm for the 9:30 pm vigil.   Churches donated hundreds of candles and droves of alumni, former Jerome families, community members, teammates, other administrators, staff, friends, neighbors  . . .  1000 people.  2000 people.  Unbelievable.

And under a star-filled sky hundreds of candles were raised high to remind us how much Stephen lit up our lives.  Student leaders spoke, his best friend spoke, parents spoke, his cousin, assistant principal, his coaches-- all spoke eloquently and passionately about how much we all loved Stephen and how much value he added to our lives.

And I worried, for as the principal and as the vigil proceeded I worried-- Is it good enough?  For Stephen deserves only our very best, in life and now, unbelievably, in death.  I wanted it to be perfect for Stephen and for his wonderful family.

And I spoke, for I, too, loved Stephen.  And I was not afraid to say it aloud.  For to know Stephen, was to love Stephen.  He is why we are all educators.  We were so blessed to have Stephen for 4 years and watch him transition from a freshman to such a fine young man.  Watch him lead the student basketball section in crazy outfits, watch him lead the football and baseball teams, and watch him smile EVERY morning he came in school.  A great, great person and student.

I was and am so honored to be his principal, and I know I will never forget him.

How do I know?

One reason is because Stephen is unforgettable as a person and student.  But secondly, it is because I can name, as most assuredly every other principal and teacher in this situation, every student we have lost as an educator.

The first student I lost was in my first year of teaching. He was Cliff, a senior, who also worked as a custodian in the small rural school in which I taught English because Cliff and his family needed the money.  Every morning I came into my classroom in the old 7-12 brick building and found a note from Cliff on my blackboard.  Yes, it was a real blackboard.  The white-chalked note in squiggly small writing usually said, "Hi, Miss Smith, Have a good day. Cliff."  I looked forward to the notes and really liked Cliff, a wonderful shy farm boy who was so kind-hearted.

One Monday morning I walked in, read and erased Cliff's note as usual, and started preparing for the teaching day when the teacher next door walked in to let me know sadly that Cliff had drowned in a farm pond over the weekend.  Just like that.  The notes stopped and I had a hard time understanding how to deal with a student's death.  I didn't believe it, and I am sure I did not handle it the way I should have with his parents and with my students.  I didn't know what to do.  I was 4 years older than Cliff, and his death was incongruous.

Others followed, sadly. Car wrecks.  Kids and cars.  Still a worry.  Every one of these students was special, and I remember each of them vividly.  I can name them all, and I remember the calling hours, the long lines, grieving parents and sobbing classmates.  Hard. Really hard.

And now Stephen.

What is the hardest part of being a high school principal, or any principal? Being a leader of mourners, instead of a leader of learners. I cannot imagine being a principal in a building rocked by school violence as this would be certainly the most difficult and unimaginable part of the job.

But I will admit that I struggled Sunday with comforting others and leading a memorial service on a baseball field instead of cheering on these wonderful students.  Didn't I just shake Stephen's hand on this field on his senior night with a Go Bucks?

Turning school fields and halls into vigil sites instead of their intended use of joy and celebration.

Burying a student.

A week ago-- the things that seemed the hard part of a being a high school principal seemed to consume my time and thoughts.  Bullying, OTES, Growth Measures, resignations--

These things are now petty and minor.  I am not able to focus on them or anything else so inconsequential. 

A life cut short at 18-- now that's hard.  Life's tragedies have a way of adjusting our priorities and identifying what is really hard about a job-- but more importantly, life.

And even this tragedy has reinforced what I really know about this job or any job.  Life itself is more important than any job at any time. As hard as these times are, they pale with the suffering and pain that Stephen's family is feeling.  Burying a student is hard.  But burying a child-- truly one of life's greatest tragedies.  It makes even the hard part of any job trivial and petty, and that is a valuable lesson from this week as well.  I am more acutely aware of that than many, for we too have buried a son, and in times like these those memories become vivid once again.

That is why I know that it is an honor to be a servant leader in these situations for our families.  We strive for perfection this week in particular because we want to support Stephen's family in the best way possible to honor them and his memory. It is the right thing to do in life for a family in need, and if that is our job, then we do in out of love and service.  This I do firmly believe is also the mission of an educator.

Especially when we get bogged down in things that we think are important and hard when they are not. 

So if you are fortunate to have someone in your life that you love, hug them today. Then hug them again. I know I will.  As Jon Gordon says in The Energy Bus, life is not Disneyland.  We can't get on this ride again, and neither can our loved ones.  And that is what is really hard.

24 comments:

  1. Such a thoughtful and heartfelt post, Mom! I liked the way you took us through all those everyday concerns and challenges, then showed how they were obliterated by this sad event. It's easy to see from this post how much you love your students! They are lucky to have you to lead them through good times and bad.

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    1. Jennifer,

      Thank you for taking time to respond and also for giving me the courage to post blogs. I would not have done it without your encouragement. When I heard Guy Doud say this week that he was a "feeling" educator, he spoke to my heart. If you love your students, you will have a wonderful and long career as an educator. And you will.

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  2. Powerful and true! Good luck as you lead your community.

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    1. Thank you, Beth. I appreciate you taking the time to respond and for your encouragement. It's what we all need.

      Cathy

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  3. Welcome, Cathy, Jennifer's Mom, and thank you for this. My school just received news that one of our former students, also a colleague's daughter, died suddenly last week. We, like you & your community, are devastated & stunned. Like your chalk notes given so kindly by your Cliff, this young woman gave us kindness each time we saw her as she grew into a wonderful woman. You've shared the feelings that mirror ours. I am sorry for the loss of your Stephen, & just cry 'not fair, not fair'!

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    1. Dear Linda,

      I am truly sorry to hear about your great loss of one of your former students. How truly sad. I can understand and feel your mourning in your words. Good luck as you deal with this tragedy and know you are in my thoughts and prayers.

      Cathy

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  4. I am so sorry to learn of the loss of this special young man. Life is precious and too often we forget until a tragedy reminds us. I look forward to reading more from you every Tuesday.

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    1. Dear Elsie,

      Thank you so much for your comforting words. I agree that every tragedy is an opportunity for us to re-examine how we are living and how we can better serve others. It's too bad that it sometimes takes something unbearable for us to face to do so.

      Cathy

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  5. Hi Cathy, Pastor Brian here from Vista. A parent of a student who used to play ball with Stephen passed along your blog. Wow! Well said. You have articulated what so many want to say but cannot find the words to do so. Your thoughts on being a "leader of mourners" speaks to your heart and to your leadership. You have probably heard the expression that to lead at any level, you have to be willing to serve at every level. I saw you model that so clearly yesterday. As we stood in the visitation line, I was moved by the number of students who looked to you for comfort, guidance and assurance. I kept thinking of the example your leadership was setting for those students and how they will never forget that moment. Well done, Cathy. I'm going to add your blog to my reader. I look forward to reading more. And by-the-way, if there is EVER anything Vista can do for you, the staff or the students, please do not hesitate to contact me directly. I could get a large group together on short notice to get those lockers painted! :) Seriously ...

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  6. Dear Pastor Brian,

    I really appreciate you taking so much time to write a response and for your very kind words. I was so proud of all of our students and how hard they were all trying to handle such a horrible tragedy in life. They are wise beyond their years and it is an honor to know them. I am early in posting blogs so be patient with me.:) Vista has always been a good friend to Jerome and we can always depend on you and the church to help us. Thanks again for donating the candles and for comforting our families. Cathy

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  7. Cathy,
    Your story of tragedy of a life that's ended much too soon is so sad...yet, your message to focus on what really matters is so meaningful. Many people lose focus on what's important when stresses begin to emerge. Thank you for sharing this reflection of a difficult time. Prayers for you in continued strength and for the family mourning the loss of their child.

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    1. Dear Amy,
      I so much appreciate you taking time to respond. Thank you for your prayers. We are also praying for the family and their grave sorrow.
      Cathy

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  8. Cathy,
    I cannot thank you enough for being there as a parent, educator, principal and friend for all of our children. The candle light vigil on Sunday night was so well attended and so heartfilled. Thank you for making that all happen.
    At this point, I have not been able to find words about this incredible tragedy. I wanted to take the time to say thank you for all of your support to our kids.
    A beautiful post- thank you.

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    1. Dear Kathleen,
      I cannot tell you how much it means to me to hear from you. You have always been a source of positive and kind thoughts throughout the years and I have always admired you so much. I appreciate your very kind words and thanks again for your compassionate reply.
      Cathy

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  9. My son, Ryan, also a member of the 2013 class, told me about your blog and we both appreciate and value how well written and thoughtful this is. I was planning to email you to let you know how impactful the candlelight vigil was, and we both commented on how much of a community that Jerome is, and how that came through as we all joined together last Sunday night. I can't imagine how the family is feeling, but I'm sure the vigil, especially your words and the words of all who spoke that night, were a tremendous comfort to them.
    Thanks for all you do each day, but especially how you handle the really difficult days, all to the benefit of our students and our community. You are very much appreciated and valued.
    Thanks so much,
    Barb Anderson

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    1. Dear Barb,
      It is so gratifying to hear from you as a mother and also as a Jerome parent. You have sent us such wonderful children and I can tell how sensitive and caring you are in this tragedy as you always are. Thanks again for taking the time to write and also for your ongoing and positive support, especially in these tough times for the Jerome family.
      Cathy

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  10. Dear Mrs. Sankey,
    Your post was very touching to me. I'm going to be a senior at Jerome this year (oh how the time has flown by!), and I want to say how great of a principal you are to our school and community. I have never actually talked to you personally, but you mean so much to everyone who knows you, including me. Every day when I'm leaving school you always smile at me and say "Have a good day," or "See you tomorrow," and it is the little things like that which makes you so loved. Reading your blog, I realized how great of a loss this was and the tribulations you have gone through. I admire you very much, and I hope this last year I spend at Jerome I will be able to talk with you more. Thank you for sharing such insight!

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    1. I am so appreciative to hear from a Jerome senior student and am truly touched by your very kind words. Your response is very touching and I can tell what a caring a compassionate member of the Jerome family you are. Please come to my office or catch me at the front door or cafeteria any time. I would love to talk with you any time. Thank you again for taking the time to write.
      Mrs. S

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  11. Your students and community were strengthened by this opportunity to be together. When I read your lines," ...we too have buried a son," I ached for you. What a difficult time this must have been for you, yet you were able to step forward and comfort so many others. Praying for your school and community in the wake of this tragedy,

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    1. Dear Ramona,
      Thank you very much for your sensitive response. I so much appreciate your prayers and ongoing support of the Jerome family.
      Cathy

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  12. Cathy, Jennifer sent me the link to your post. I read this with a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye. As I read your list of students lost, it triggered my own list of students gone. As most of my life I taught elementary students, they were younger than the age at which we expect death, or can even really accept death, and we were never ready to lose them. Your post captured the unfathomable hole the a student leaves when they are missing from your student body.Your post gives folks a very different picture of what educators do. Thanks for sharing your feelings and giving voice to your communities feelings at the same time.

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    1. Dear Robin,
      It is so gratifying to hear from you as a fellow educator. Thank you for taking the time to share about the students you have also lost. It would be so difficult also at the elementary level. Thanks for your feedback regarding my blog. I really appreciate it.
      Cathy

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  13. My daughter, class of '13 sent me to your blog. You should know that many of Stephen's classmates have read this and take the message of what is really important with them as they head to college this week. We thanked you in June for an wonderful high school experience-we thank you even more in August for your amazing love and support of our kids

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  14. Dear Paula,
    Thank you for your very kind words and for taking the time to write. The Class of 2013 was such a special class in the Jerome family and I appreciate them so much. The way they came together to support Stephen's family in this great time of tragedy was amazing. It is an honor to be their principal. Thanks again for your family's ongoing and positive support.
    Cathy

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