WHAT’S LOVE GOT
TO DO WITH IT?
After a long hiatus, Assistant Superintendent, Mary Lou Sallee,
and I are back in the blogosphere, and are aiming for bi-weekly posts to start
the year off right!
The school year is off to a great start, despite last week’s
grueling heat. As we toured the
buildings, we could feel the positive energy, the excitement, and the
commitment to learning that our exceptional staff expresses on a daily basis. And seeing the smiling, laughing, and
sometimes nervous faces of all of our students certainly eased our summer
adieus.
New Faculty and Staff. As you may be aware, teachers return for two
days of meetings, professional development, and mobilization around the
district’s key, pre-K through 12 priorities, just prior to the long Labor Day
weekend. And prior to that we welcome
and orient our new faculty and staff- over forty this year- an exciting
addition of new talent, energy and ideas for our four schools. Among these are three new assistant
principals, and two seasoned educators filling new positions- K-12 English
Language Learner Program Director, and K-12 Guidance Director, about whom I
will share more information in a subsequent blog post.
Heartfelt. One of the most moving sessions that I sat in
on, as I navigated my way past the carefully fenced off construction staging
area at Davis School, included all of the guidance and special education staff,
as well as the teachers of our “specials” like library and music. In a ritual that is repeated annually, the
group reviewed a long list of students identified as needing some special,
“from the start” attention to ensure a successful school year. Whether academically challenged, emotionally
struggling, socially disconnected or physically impaired, each student was
reviewed in a two way sharing- one to inform the teachers about the students
who will be in their classes, and two, to invite the teachers, who see all of
the students over the course of the year, to brainstorm with the support staff
about how to best meet the students’ needs.
I have rarely felt so much love expressed in one room! The depth of knowledge about each child that
these educators possessed, and the thoughtful, deeply caring way that they
discussed how to help him or her move forward in the new year, were nothing
short of awe inspiring.
The following example, names changed, captures the spirit of the
conversation, which lasted for several hours, as the team worked through an
extensive list of students both in regular education and with special education
IEPs. “Let’s talk next about
Felix. He has shown some patterns of
dysregulation throughout the year, and he tends to self-isolate,” began the
special education program administrator.
“Yes, Felix,” chimed in the music teacher, “the Felix with the green
eyes, he’s such a love. He could
definitely use a male buddy to help him feel like he belongs.” “I know just the student,” responded the
librarian- Damion- “he would definitely
take him under his wing. Plus, they both
really like legos.”
Educating children, of all ages, is an act of love. Our faculty and staff pour their hearts into
their work and into their students. A
wonderful colleague of mine from another district wrote a poem that I think
expresses this beautifully- the deeply
felt hope and expectations that our families feel, the awesome responsibility
entrusted to our educators… one that Bedford’s educators take ever so deeply to
heart. JS
Parents’
Night
One by one the tidy classrooms across the courtyard
are going black.
Parents filter out toward their cars
and headlights flicker across the windows.
But there she is at my desk, smiling out of a
shapeless coat.
It isn’t just the heavy Russian accent that makes it
hard.
I lean my head toward what she has to say
about her daughter Katya with, I see now, the same shy
smile--
her daughter Katya who, too, lingers at my desk after
class.
She burns a trail of smoky words: Katya
loves reading very much,
she
has problem with hearing -- she wants to write like Tolstoi --
she
liked so much last year’s English teacher--
I
thank him thank him for the rest of my life.
When she breaks off, eyes eager at my face,
I pull my head back, clearing for a smooth landing,
but the sentences I pave out about the course, about
Katya’s progress,
somehow crumble and fall away.
Her forehead wrinkles; she veers sideways and lifts
off again,
circling back over the territory, words thick and
halting.
I watch but cannot follow
though I try until the halls are dark.
On the drive home the mother’s words are large-winged
moths
that brush soft bodies against my hair
and flutter thinly at the windshield.
Suddenly I see the nonsense of my replies.
“Please,” she’d been saying, racing against the
custodian,
rattling his keys as he came, snapping off lights.
“Please,” she had said, those keys jangling toward my
door --
“Can you love my child?”
--Mary
Burchenal
