[new job title]

A few years ago in New York I went to see a show several times called, oddly enough, [title of show]. This was a musical that developed downtown for a “fringe” musical festival and it is about these two composers, Jeff and Hunter, who create an original musical with two friends, Heidi and Susan. It is a “meta” show in which they constantly reflect on writing a musical for a fringe festival…so everything they say, it seems, makes it into their musical. It is about the joy and thrill and fear of creating a piece of theater. The odd title comes from the fact that when they submit their manuscript to the festival they are filling in the form and when it comes to their [title of show] they just decide to leave it blank the way the form had it as simply [title of show]. Okay. Maybe I didn’t sell the show enough to you.

Anyhoo, I don’t know if I have mentioned in any blogisode that I have a new title and new responsibilities at KA. It came about last spring when our dynamite new headmaster, John, asked me if I would like some new responsibilities dealing with, specifically, coaching and mentoring faculty. He wasn’t quite sure for awhile what the new job title would be, nor exactly what territory I would cover. I was excited since he trusted me to work with the faculty.

So for the longest time, I wasn’t sure what to tell people what the job really was, and so it reminded me of [title of show]. But now I should announce exactly what my email signature will say my new title is: Drum roll please…Dean of Curriculum and Instruction.

I am charged with many things, but most importantly directing and facilitating a professional development program that encompasses much more than I have ever seen in one of my four schools. I am also to evaluate and monitor curriculum, and I am to lead the evaluation of the 80-member faculty. Plus go to more meetings. We love meetings.

Last week I gave a presentation to the faculty during our orientation introducing them to my vast array of offerings in professional development. I likened my program to the Food Court at the Mall, where, hopefully, there is something for everyone! But before I explained the menu, I offered a brief bio as to how/why I stood before them that morning in Jordan.

I proudly announced that it was 25 years ago that week that I first stepped into a classroom to teach high school. Yep, it was 1986, and as a newly-minted college graduate I had been hired to be the entire History Department at Gaston Day School. I had no training, per se, to be a teacher, and I was thrilled to death, and also scared to death. I noted that every August since, as I prepare for the return of school, I am still thrilled to death, and just a little less scared to death. I relayed that in the next ten years I would go to graduate school full-time twice: the first I went to Brown so that I could go and teach college (however, if you know my bio well, you know that all Brown did was confirm for me that I was supposed to be a teacher of secondary school); for the second time I earned the Klingenstein Fellowship and went to finally study the ins and outs of education, learning the vocabulary and honing strategies and structure of effective classes.

In 1996 I started a new job at Hackley School, and I relayed to the faculty about an evening a couple weeks into the school year, when a new friend, a friend my own age who was a novice to teaching, announced with pleasure, “Finally, today I had a good day in the classroom.” Phil’s face then fell as he realized he couldn’t rest on those laurels, but needed to do it all over again the next day. Phil then pestered me, asking, “When do you really know everything about teaching? At what point do you get it all about education?” I said that after my 8 years, I didn’t know and wondered what a good answer was. I went and found another new colleague, the veteran teacher Joan Fox, a woman of such humor and warmth that new standards of humor and warmth need to be created. Joannie smiled and said, “Oh, dahlin’ you don’t really ever get it completely—you work at it but you never quite master it. You come closer every year but that is the beauty of teaching.”

That was my introduction to the plan I have for professional development. Now if you ever say the complete two words, “professional development,” or even the code, “PD” to most educators they roll their eyes, or sigh—at best. Some stare daggers at you. What is the problem??? Well, it is such a low priority in most schools, done poorly in a one-size-fits-all mentality, and no follow-up. Big money is spent on these experts to come in and spend 6 hours telling you what to do.

But our headmaster wants this professional development to be a constant thing, and as he urged us, to seek “continued, sustained improvement” in our teaching. So I have a plan.

Here is the menu of the plan—a week will not go by without an opportunity for professional development—there will be a weekly seminar/discussion group and I have all the topics for the year and the times all set up. The calendar is done September to June! Can’t make it at 11:30 on Sundays? I will repeat the seminar on Mondays at lunch and again at breakfast on Tuesday! The seminar will be conducted in Arabic for those who would be more comfortable with the dialogue in Arabic! No, that one will not be lead by me! There will be a book club each term. There will be two articles provided every week on topics of interest in education. There will be five workshops during the year offering many topics and forum for discussion and learning. My colleague Lilli and I will begin visiting classes—remember I am charged with evaluating about 80 teachers. I decided that I want to visit the “beginnings” of every class first—get into the classrooms and see how class begins. Then after I have seen each teacher’s opening engagement, I will visit a five-minute “middle” of every teacher, and finally go see how each teacher wraps up a lesson. Observation! Feedback! Hopefully real and meaningful professional development.

I have come to see that the [new job title] also means part-time therapist for people too. I have had several people ask to come and speak to me about the nature of teaching, and when do you know you should stay in teaching.

Oh, it is more than the food court. But, these are good and healthy conversations. Life would be strangely hollow if we didn’t ask ourselves, at least on occasion: What exactly should I do with the rest of my life? What is my purpose on this planet? Am I doing the right thing with my days and my energies? Does who I am matter to anyone else?

One guy the other day wanted to sit down and talk because, as he said, “You really think of teaching as a vocation, as a calling. I need some guidance.” He’s right—I do look at this career path as a vocation/calling. Those questions about vocation supersede the quest we sometimes engage in to busy ourselves.

A famous ethicist, William F. May, once pointed out that the words “car” and “career” both come from the Latin word for racetrack—carrera. Hmmm….who wants to go through life racing around in a circle????? A calling is much more considered than that. We hunt for hints and clues as to what the calling might be, should be. On our worst days, we wonder when a voice will whisper in our hearts, and we sometimes mistake the verbal echo of our own desires. We can get confused about selfishness and enjoyment.

But on those best days, we find that sweet spot of what we love to do, do reasonably well (or are determined to do well) and are pretty certain that we have found our niche of challenge and comfort. On those days we notice how God has stitched capacities and passions and potential into our quite ordinary lives. We aim to center our commitments on a greater good than just ourselves.

Vocation is kind of hard to figure out. Discerning one’s calling in life is a complicated business. I remember when I needed to make the decision to come to Jordan back in January, 2007, and I asked my good friend Doris for guidance. “When do you know Doris?” I asked pretty much the same thing Phil had asked me back in 1996. Doris replied, “When those doors all open, your job is simply to walk through the doors.”

So here I am—[new job title]—and 25 years into the teaching profession. We have had two weeks of teacher orientation. Energy is high. I lose all sense of time. The students will now begin returning for their orientation. Admittedly, it is like Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Years’ all wrapped together into this time of year at the beginning of school. That great sense of satisfaction is prevalent.

Twenty-five years ago I was not quite sure where destiny would take me. I did not think I would be a secondary school teacher. And not just be one—I need to be one. It is where I belong. I am hoping the same for the [new job title]—the sweet spot where identity and desire and challenge and need converge.