Mission Creep Happens

One day you take a pause, look around, and wonder, “How did we get here?  Is this where we are supposed to be?”.  You find yourself in a place and circumstance you had not anticipated.  A school is not immune from this wonderment.

Organizational creep is a phenomenon not a person though there may be similarities between the two.  The verb to creep is to move slowly and carefully and to creep has many applications in our language.  The botanical verb to creep is to grow by the extension of roots and branches.  Creeping is natural in nature.  In human endeavors, children creep to become taller and more adult-like over time.  Habits creep up on us, especially the late-night snack’s effect when we step on a bathroom scale in the morning.  Groups and organizations also creep, especially in their mission, purpose, and goals.  Mission creep occurs when an organization’s actions stray beyond the stated mission of the organization.  The outcome of creeping means the organization may no longer be faithful to its initial and stated mission, but become bit off-centered in trying to be something it isn’t intended to be.

Life gives us many examples of organizational creep.  As a micro example, an idea for a new project is presented to a group of decision makers.  In the initial explanation, the idea is straightforward.  The focus of the new idea is to create new eco-friendly space that people in the organization can enjoy in a relaxing moment – a break area.  Every person enjoys breaks, lunch, before and after work moments and this place will be enhance their relaxation and be eco-friendly to boot.  Keep it simple.  A budget of $1,000 is approved and the idea is launched.

Ah, but after a few months the tables and chairs no longer fit the concept and benches and tall boys are wanted.  An eco space calls for greenery and plantings are ordered and installed.  The new space is appealing and more folks use it.  At the close of year one, expenses total $5,000, well over the approved budget, but because the space is popular and used no one points to the budget over run.  During year two, users ask if they can bring some of their work to the eco area and work there.  Just a few users initially are interested, but the space will need new infrastructure.  WIFI and electrical outlets are installed.  Now more users are interested and management of the eco space is required to efficiently schedule its use.  And, to do increased maintenance.  And, to be present to support users who have work-related needs.  At the start of year three, decision makers are asked to approve hiring an eco space facilitator at $15.00 an hour.  That wage is $31,200 a year.  Mission creep achieved.  Break room becomes new work environment and $1,000 per year becomes $30,000-plus.  Simple is as simple does; it creeps toward complexity.

Or, is this example an example of a good idea becoming a better idea?  Retrace back to the initial purpose: an enhanced space for moments of relaxation in a workday.  Retrace back to the initial cost/effect: $1,000 for a small concept.  Retrace the decision making: instead of the mission driving decisions the space drove the decisions.  Creep.

Schools see unintentional organizational creep all the time.  Most creeping is additive and addictive.  A classroom wants new shelving for more reading materials for children to read while in the classroom.  Done.  Materials go digital and the classroom wants several computer carousels.  Done.  Tech goes personal.  The classroom wants an IPad for each child.  Done.  The new tech needs more WIFI and electrical outlets.  Done.  A behavioral study indicates that in class reading time increased with the addition of more reading material and remained at that level with the addition of computer carousels and IPads and WIFI and electricals.  The mission of reading improvement was overcome by the mission to change with the times. 

We also observe mission creep by inadvertently altering time for instruction.  An elementary school has a balanced approach to academics, arts, PE, and foreign language instruction.  The balance is that children receive instruction in all these subjects each day of the school week.  When annual assessments indicate that many K-5 children are not making expected progress in numeracy and mathematical problem solving, a school conducts a study looking for improved curriculum.  The new adoption requires more minutes each day for math instruction.  Done.  On another front, children whose reading achievement is below expectation are assigned to work with a reading interventionist.  The time for this additional work is carved out of the full instructional day and children who do not need intervention are provided time for personalized reading.  The upshot to these changes is that instructional time for art, music, PE, and foreign language are reduced.  At first the reduction was in minutes per day for these “specials” and later a shift to alternating day instruction in specials and then to once-a-week instruction.  Achievement assessments indicate that performance in math and reading improved with additional time.  Learning and individual growth in art, music, PE, and foreign language diminished with the loss of time.  And, interest in art, music, and foreign language decreased.  At no point did the school evaluate its mission for K-5 education or proclaim a change from a balanced time approach to an increased focus on academics approach.  The school crept from balance to imbalance.  After the fact, we find our creeping has inadvertent outcomes.

How to prevent creep?  Regularly check yourself in the organizational mirror.  In the left hand, hold up your adopted mission statement.  In the right hand, hold up a snapshot of your organizational structure including where you spend time, money, and resources.  Does your right hand reflect the priorities and commitments of your left hand?  If these align, your organization still has fidelity with its stated mission.  If not, your organization is experiencing creep.  It is time to reconsider your mission or to rescale your organizational behaviors.  Either reconsideration or rescaling may be appropriate as doing something is required to re-achieve organizational fidelity to mission and purpose.  Sometimes we outgrow our mission and the mission must change.  Sometimes we creep beyond our mission and we must realign our work to the continuing mission.

My Yesteryear Peers Are Gone. What Do I Do Now?

Eventually, every educator leaves school.  Some retire.  Some move to another professional opportunity.  Some leave the profession.  The longer an educator’s tenure in a school, the more likely the outcome of being the last of your original peer group.  What does a veteran educator do when all in her peer group have left the school?

A teacher’s first year in the classroom can be traumatic.  Regardless of prior work experiences or the richness of student teaching, the first weeks of a first teaching assignment in an “I don’t know anyone” new school can create extreme anxiety and tension.  On the outside a rookie teacher may look well-put-together, but underneath the skin lies a tempest of frazzled nerves.  Will my students like me?  Will they do what I ask them to do?  Can I gain and maintain reasonable classroom controls?  Is my lesson plan good enough to cause them to learn?  What will I do if the answer to all these questions is “No!!!”? 

Classroom teaching is unbelievably personal.  A teacher stands alone before wide-eyed children, some wild-eyed, and begins the teaching and learning dance of instruction.  Most first-year teachers have tunnel vision.  All they see, hear, and feel is their aloneness.  It takes a bit of time for a rookie to look up from these very personal daily challenges and realize there are other rookie teachers in the school.  Not many, but there are other first year teachers “enjoying” the same first-year challenges.  And, there are last year’s rookies who survived and are in their classrooms for a second year.  This group becomes a natural peer group for a first-year teacher.  No matter where they come from, their gender, race, or background – first-year teachers who find each other are bonded in friendship and kindred spirit forever.  The word “kindred” fits this bonding exceptionally well.

Kindred first-year teachers resemble young mothers who find other young mothers in their neighborhood and become kindred in the raising of children.  Or younger couples who find other young couples in their community and become kindred in friendship and support of each other.

Within a school faculty it is easy to identify kindred groups.  The rookie class of 2001 and the rookie class of 2011 still seek each other during the school day and sit together in meetings.  They lunch together and attend professional conferences together.  When asked for professional opinions, they look to each other first.  They are their own reference point even after ten and twenty years in the school.

Becoming a veteran teacher in a school carries gravitas.  Younger teachers take professional leads from veteran teachers.  Principals rely upon the leadership and insight of teachers with greater and wider experiences.  As a kindred group becomes more veteran, they may hold more sway in a school faculty.  “Sway” is an interesting concept.  By their nature, teachers seldom tell other teachers what to do, but they do influence each other.  Sway is an informal influencing. 

As time passes, however, life paths that were converged at school years before start to diverge.  Some of the kindred group leave a school for life in another community.  Some leave teaching.  Some retire. 

A time comes when a veteran teacher looks around as she did in her first year for her kindred group and finds she is the last of her group in the school.  Her “group”, her “dream team”, her peers are no longer present.  What does she do now?

To paraphrase Tim Robbins in Stephen King’s Shawshank Redemption, “…get busy staying or get busy moving on…”.  These things are true for you in your school home.

  • A quality teacher never knows more about teaching than on her last day in the classroom.  Your talents are needed and wanted.  You are the aggregate of your professional training and experience, and you bring tremendous value to your school and colleagues.  Get busy adapting and stay.
  • If you are not ready to retire or move on, don’t.  Retire or move on for the right reasons not a single, wrong reason.  Get busy adapting and stay.
  • Senior teachers make bona fide connections with younger teachers all the time.   Younger teachers will not replace the camaraderie of a kindred, first-year peer group, but they still are bona fide as strong, professional, and personal friendships.  Younger teachers need you.  Get busy adapting and stay.
  • There are other roles for you in your school besides the classroom.  Your talents may produce strong results in an interventionist, specialist, or director role.  Get busy adapting and stay.
  • School cultures evolve.  The culture that you and your kindred group experienced as younger teachers is not a forever culture.  If the culture has changed so much that you no longer find your professional home in your school, get busy moving on.
  • Perception is reality.  If your perception is that professional life without your kindred group is no longer tenable, get busy moving on.

Teaching is a highly productive profession.  A teacher causes children to learn.  Sometimes the engine of a teacher’s productivity comes from her engagement with a kindred group.  When a teacher finds herself as the last of her group in her school, it is a decision time.  Get busy adapting and contributing to your school or get busy moving on. 

The Full Monty

A small parade of thirteen kindergarten children walked single-file down the right-hand side of the hallway to the elementary school office.  Their teacher was last in line.  When the parade pooled around the office door, a child in the middle knocked on the door.  The door held a large glass panel and the children could see their school secretary rise from her desk area, walk to the door, open it, and stand before them. 

The teacher quietly said, “One, two, three…” and her class of tykes sang Happy Birthday to their school secretary who beamed through the first singing and the teacher’s “Now, let’s do that again”.

There were tears and laughter and a heart-felt “Thank you!”. And, smiles on every face.

As their kindergarten education concludes in this year of pandemic, each child in this particular class will have succeeded in reaching the teacher’s goals for reading and language acquisition, counting and beginning numeracy skills, and writing words and small sentences on paper.  Each will have begun a K-5 thread of investigations into plants and animals; family, neighborhoods, and community; the sun and  moon, and stars; and, will have filled page after page with drawings, and pictures, and words – enough to cover the refrigerator at home for years to come.  Within the teacher’s play-based curriculum, each will have advanced in a skill set of cooperating with others, following rules, and childhood problem-solving. And, learning how to learn.

The smile and tears a singing of “Happy Birthday” brought to their school secretary was just one more example of the full monty of kindergarten education that their teacher causes for her children every school year.  She also teaches children they are never alone in their school.  There are many adults who care for and about them everyday.  Everyone matters in the education of these children.  Singing Happy Birthday was just one moment of caring for each other. 

This teacher is the full monty.  We are fortunate in our school to have many teachers who are the full monty.

All Politics Are “Just Down The Street”

One of the learned truths of governance is that all politics are local.  Thank you, Tip O’Neill, for the lesson.  Our local school board often gives credence to this wisdom and uses the phrase, “What will Sally down-the-street think of this?”, when considering a controversial issue.  O’Neill and Sally remind us to think locally, even on large and major questions.  (Sally is a non-gender term for a local citizen.)

There are 421 public school districts in Wisconsin.  Each district is founded by WI statute and each district is accountable to state statutes and DPI rules and regulations.  With a smile, no two school districts are exactly alike.  Each district today is the result of the actions taken overtime by its local school board to meet both the requirements of the state and the wants, needs, and interests of the local community.  Are these differences a strength or weakness in our public education system?  Neither, they are just a fact.

Sally down-the-street is a wonderful concept for a school member to keep in mind when contemplating a vote of the board.  These versions of Sally live in that ethos.

Does Sally know?  There are many questions about which Sally will say “I didn’t know” and that is both an okay and expected reply.  In our community, about 30% of households have a child attending our local school.  Less than 50% ever had a child a child attend our school.  Most Sallys have not had a direct connection with our school district other than paying their annual school property tax and hearing about school events in the news.  Sally will not know about most school board decisions.

Does Sally care?  Honestly, not much given the statistics.  However, the Sallys who are school parents care deeply.  This means that the care factor represented by Sally speaks for a minority of the households in the school district BUT may speak for a goodly number of those households with school children.  The care factor has two elements – school families and non-school families.  Each is a valid care factor.

Is this a loud Sally or a quiet Sally?  Welcome to local politics and a second proverb – “the loudest squeaky wheel gets the grease”.  Actually, the proverb is “the loudest squeaky wheel gets listened to” and the rest of the quiet wheels just roll along unnoticed.  The voice of a loud Sally cannot be ignored, but it can be understood with the history of who this person is and the nature of the Sally squeaks.  It is best to pay attention to loud Sallys but not let them overrepresent a constituency.

How many others does Sally represent?  Sally may be a solo or an ensemble voice.  Social networking puts Sally into instant and constant communication with all other Sallys.  They talk, listen, and reinforce each other.  When a Sally speaks, board members need to pay attention to the echoes from others and observe any virtual nodding of agreement.  Groundswells of Sallys can rise and abate quickly. 

How can we best inform Sally?  Communication is a two-way responsibility.  The fact that Sally may not know or care about an issue does not lessen nor negate the board’s responsibility to communicate with every Sally.  The best practice is to assume that no one knows everything about an issue or has paid attention to the board’s discussion of the issue, so over educate the public – 100% of the public.  And, keep informing the public.  An informed Sally regardless of opinion benefits school governance.

How will this effect Sally?  Sally “the parent of a current student” will understand and feel direct effects as a decision impacts daily school for a child.  Sally “the parent” will also feel the same community effects as all Sallys, but the immediacy of response make this Sally “the parent” as a primary concern.  The board needs to understand immediacy of effects in their decisions on Sally “the parent” and this Sally’s constant immediate and constant interaction with the board.  Sally “the parent of a graduate” will understand effects as a vestige of a former relationship with the school and as a non-parent community member.   Decisions that effect the Sally “who has never been connected to the school” will be felt in the general conversation of taxpayers and more generalized over time.  However, if a decision brings this Sally to a school board meeting, every board member needs to sit up straight and pay attention. 

The pandemic has provided school boards with everyday and repeated lessons that all politics are local and that the several versions of Sally-down-the-street are a good measure of how well local decisions are playing out.

Remote Education: Conditional Not Optional

William Occam taught us to to reduce our assumptions and that the simplest explanation is often the best explanation.  As we evolve toward post-pandemic public education, we should not assume that our 2020-21 decisions will be the best decisions for 2021-22.  It is time for Occam’s Razor. 

Occam’s Razor is a good tool for sorting through confusion   The Razor acts to reduce all the conversation to its essential questions and then to a unique answer.  Life in the Time of COVID has been fraught with a new disease, roller-coasting daily news, fears and anxieties aplenty, and shotgunned solutions, some heroic and others pathetic.  These words characterized pandemic public education also over the past year bringing us to our next big question:  given what we have experienced and know, what is the best organization of daily teaching and learning to begin the 21-22 school year?

At the beginning of the 20-21 school year with increasing infection rates, climbing death statistics, and exploratory mitigation protocols, the Razor used best definitions of community safety to reduce the provision of public education to at-home teaching and at-home learning.  Many cogent arguments were made for in-person schooling last fall but were set aside in the face of health statistics.  The simplest and best explanation for the first semester of SY 20-21 was remote education.  Then, conditions changed and with new conditions the best explanation of how to organize for teaching and learning moved toward parent option for either a-home learning or in-school learning.  And, conditions continue to change. 

Given the past year, there are scores of “what ifs?” and “I wants” in the conversation of how schooling should be delivered in September 2021.  Respectfully, the discussion of educational delivery at school board meetings were very public and participatory early in the current school year.  Public and participatory school board meetings are well established in WI statutes.  Weighing all conditions and arguments, school boards directed their administrators to provide variations of remote, in-person, and hybrid strategies for the daily education of children.  Fundamentally, parental choice of strategy was a common feature within most school districts in the 2020-21 school year.

Conditions continue to change.  Vaccination was added to the protocols for masking, social distancing and hand-washing.  The legislature ended statewide health emergency orders.  Local infection rates declined.  Most school employees can choose and have chosen to be vaccinated.  In public, many in our communities are choosing to return to pre-pandemic social activities.  In school, we have maintained masking, reduced distancing, and hand-washing standards. 

This spring, many families have rechosen their school option.  Elementary children are returning to in-person learning.  In January, 40% of parents in our local school chose in-person learning and now 95% choose in-person learning.  Secondary children have been slower to return to in-person learning.  This is a matter of choice as the conditions of in-school learning are the same across all grades.

It is time to apply the Razor again; what is the best strategy for educating children in the fall of 2021?

Arguments still abound.  Some arguments are couched in health concerns.  Some retain political and economic points of view.  Some are slanted toward personal and family convenience.  Some want to retain the option to choose.

Occam tells us to focus on the essential question.   There are many tangential questions that may attach, but they are not the heart of the question.  In the absence a health emergency, the real question is how to best educate children within the 21-22 pandemic protocols.  Repeat – the question is how to best educate children.

Health data tells us that vaccination plus masks plus social distancing plus hand-washing protocols are reducing infection, hospitalization, and death rates.  Good news.  In the absence of a statewide health emergency, these protocols allow teachers and children to be in-school.

Health data reminds school leaders to take care in planning large group gatherings, such as school sports events, concerts, and ceremonies. 

Learning data tells us that at-home learning may have worked well for a few but did not work well for most.  On-screen teaching and learning is dependent upon adequate Internet connectivity.  The fact that too many children do not have such connectivity at home means that on-screen learning leaves too many children without consistent, quality, daily instruction.  This is not acceptable within public education.

Teacher observational data reports that elementary children were more attentive during on-screen teaching and learning and secondary children because increasingly inattentive.  Too many high school students simply clicked the “off” button.  Daily active participation rates of less than 50% for secondary children is not acceptable within public education.  While some may state that many secondary children are inattentive when seated at their school desks, the fact remains that they are at their desks.  The “off” button moves a tune out decision to a drop out decision that we cannot abide.

Instructional observational data demonstrated that many teachers were “super teachers” in their efforts to teach children seated and in-person in classrooms AND children at-home simultaneously.  When I personally watched teachers bobbling back and forth between students in the room and students on-screen, I was amazed at their professional dexterity.  Watching them week after week left me in awe at their resilience.  Considering them doing this in 21-22 causes, however causes me to set aside the ridiculousness of the ask.  Simultaneous in-person and on-screen teaching is an emergency response; it is not a continuing response post-emergency.  Continued simultaneous teaching is a pathway for teacher burn-out, acknowledged secondary student disengagement, and lower than acceptable educational outcomes. 

Occam then tells us to review our assumptionsand set aside those that do not apply to the question at hand.  A major assumption is the status of remote and at-home learning.

At-home learning is not a mandated parental option within public education.  At-home learning is an emergency option for school districts to meet their statutory requirements for educating children.  Health conditions in the early pandemic allowed school districts to extend this option during the health emergency.  The absence of a health emergency should withdraw the emergency educational option.

Home school enrollment is an option for parental choice.  School Choice in an option that allows parents to choose different school districts.  These are real options.

Teaching and learning have not changed.  We cause children to learn best when teachers and children can focus on daily instruction with physical and personal proximity.

Remote education has a proven place in public education, but it is a conditional place not an optional place.  Children whose individual and personal medical and learning needs require isolation will be taught within the educational modifications presented by remote education.  Remote education as a modified educational program is a conditional response to student needs.

Teachers are able to sustain simultaneous in-personal and on-screen teaching in an emergency but not as standard, daily work.  Teachers have proven their capacity to teach individual children remotely when the child’s personal needs require at-home learning.

Thank you, William Occam.  As we plan instructional delivery for all children in 21-22, application of the Razor tells us that a best decision, absent all unnecessary assumptions, is for teaching and learning to be conducted in-person in school classrooms.  Remote education should be conditional to student medical/learning needs; it is no longer a parent option.