This happened:
I love quotes. I use
them often—sometimes just by myself, to keep my own thinking in a straight
line; other times, more openly, as a way to inspire the thinking of
others. I seek them out and read them
like little tidbits of short stories, from Einstein to Twain, from Unknown to
Anonymous. (Admission: It took me an
embarrassingly long time to figure out who that
was.)
A colleague, Trish, loves them just as much as I do. She’s a teacher, which makes her an angel, of
course, but along the way she’s been a coach and technology expert, too. She uses quotes with the same enthusiasm as
I. She’s got them posted throughout her
classroom, on her phone, and as a revolving screen saver on her computer. She’s my quote comrade.
So guess what she did for me as a holiday present?
After years of sort of
working together, she and I ended up working in the same school this year. Again, I’m new to building, so I’ve spent the
first part of the year hustling to try to get to know teachers, students, and
parents. There are a lot of them, and
they all have their own stories—and I want to know them all. Really
know them. But boy, it’s a daunting task. It seems like it will take me a thousand
years to get to know everyone.
Trish understands this.
So guess what she did for me—? On the day before the holiday break, she invited
me to stop by her room. I was surprised
when one of the students stood and shyly handed me a package.
“Oh, thank you,” I said.
“You didn’t need to—“
“Open it!” someone said.
“Now?”
A chorus: “Yes! Now!”
I did, in that awkward, Now? Really? If-I-really-have-to kind of way. Inside, beneath several gently crumpled
pieces of tissue, was one of the most thoughtful, mindful presents I’ve ever
received as a principal.
Trish had gone and bought a fun little journal, a gentle
purple and blue number. On the cover was
Frozen’s Olaf, saying these
words: Some People Are Worth Melting For.
She had allotted two pages of the journal to each of her fourth graders. She asked them to seek out an image of a quote
that reflected who they are. They pasted
the quote on one page; on the coinciding page, they wrote me a letter
describing themselves in relation to the quote.
It was a brilliant gift for a new (and quote-loving) principal. As I read through the journal, I got 26 new
quotes to ponder—and the personal,
authentic, unfiltered story of 26 kids.
Instantly, I was able to learn something important about each one of
them.
Vidushi’s quote: Everything in the universe has rhythm. Everything dances. (Maya Angelou)
Vidushi connected herself to the quote like this:
Dear Mrs. Schwanke,
I like this quote
because it reminds me to never stop dancing.
I love to dance. It’s my passion
and my life. I also love math. I want to be a doctor when I grow up. I also love my friends. Have a great Christmas. I hope it does not snow. Your student, Vidushi
So there, just with that student, I have a great quote—and I
have six or seven things about which to Vidushi. I’ve got a starting point, a connection, and
a solid way to remember her.
Ken’s quote: Every pro was once an amateur. Every expert was once a beginner. So dream big.
And start now. (Robin Sharma)
Ken’s connection:
Dear Mrs. Schwanke,
I like this quote
because it reminds me to keep trying when I am new to something. I really like sports. My most favorite is Tae Kwon Do, which I play
after school. I keep working and keep
getting better. I hope your holiday is
great. See you next year! Sincerely, Ken
Again, this was a great way to begin to know Ken.
There were others, too:
Page after page, it was clear how much care the students had
put into selecting a quote and writing the accompanying letter. Their handwriting was deliberate and careful;
their words and descriptions gave me a clear and genuine picture of each
student as a person and as a thinker. Trish
had guided them through the idea and the work, but the result was a
comprehensive picture of each child. It
was a gift that gave me three important and necessary things: 26 quotes, 26 personal stories, and 26
springboards from which I could launch a meaningful student conversation.