Year of Yes – My New Year’s Resolution

I love it when I read something that leaves me with a phrase or idea, or new bit of motivation to shift things from the way I’ve always done them.

This fall, that book for me was Year of Yes.  It’s written by Shonda Rhimes, who is the writer for a number of TV shows, including Grey’s Anatomy.  That’s actually why I picked it up. I didn’t grab it as a professional resource.  I grabbed it with the notion that something biographical might be a good distraction from the fluff novels I’d been unwinding with at the end of the day.  Over the past few months "Year of Yes" has become a bit of a mantra for me, as I approach situations or opportunities that I might otherwise find intimidating.  It's my self-talk for mustering the bit of courage I need to dive in.

Shonda embarked on a Year of Yes to get out of a rut.  She noticed that she wasn’t embracing life the way she wanted to, and she didn’t want to miss out on things because of her reluctance or fear of engaging with them.  She promised herself that for a whole year, she would say YES to anything that scared her, made her nervous, or she had never tried before, when asked.  The results were transformative.

The first time I announced "Year of Yes" out loud, I somehow found myself harnessed into rock climbing gear and learning to do single rope technique from a bit of rope that had been suspended from a log platform by a bunch of scouts.  The kids had created  their own climbing course by lashing pallets to wooden staves they’d attached about 20 feet up between a couple of trees.  Prior to that day,  I'd declined other opportunities to leave the ground, usually by sharing the story about the time I passed out when I looked back while ascending a climbing wall.  Maybe it was my assertive declaration.  Maybe it was my own children's looks of disbelief at the suggestion I might actually try it.  Maybe it was the encouragement of another scouter who was pretty sure I was good for it.  Whatever it was, that was the moment that my Year of Yes took hold.

Rhimes' story has continued to resonate with me as I’ve tackled some things professionally this fall, too.  While the book contains many more ways that Shonda says Yes, there are a few which I feel are particularly helpful for me in my life as an educator. 

1.  Yes to things that scare her and make her nervous.

I’m terrible at networking.  I have no idea how to “work a room” when I’m in with a bunch of people I don’t know, or when I enter a new environment,  I head to the first familiar person I see and stay put.  For my Year of Yes, I am going to approach AT LEAST one new person every time I find myself in this situation, and do my best to stay in the conversation long enough to learn one thing about them that I didn’t know when I walked into the room.  My husband is great at this.  People around him are at ease because he is at ease.  It’s a quality I have huge respect and admiration for. 

2.  Yes to playing with her children.

Shonda was talking about her kids at home.  I’m working on connecting with the teenagers at my house more often too, but at work, I’m translating this into really connecting and interacting with students.  When I was in a school-based role, this was easier-  although it was still pretty easy to get caught up in the busy of the day and not take time to breathe, and play, with the students.  It’s even harder now that I’m in an itinerant role.

I had the benefit of spending the day at False Bay School on Lasqueti Island just before Christmas.  They were working on their Christmas production, and the student I was there to see wasn’t too fussed about giving up his time to do an assessment with me, so I ended up spending the day getting to know him a little, enjoying the rehearsal for Annie, making plasticine cakes with some grade fours, crouching down with some primary students to observe a heron across the field at lunch.  I was embraced by this community of learners who hardly knew me, and am super excited to be going back to spend another day with them in the new year.  I’m also confident that the assessment will come off without a hitch when I head back next time.  I know a whole bunch about this little guy that I had no idea about on my way to the school that morning.  Playing with these learners helped me get to know them, and to contribute to their learning, even when I was there for only one day.


3.  Yes to being (more) open and honest in difficult conversations.

For me, this takes the most courage of all.  It’s a conversation that we’ve had as a team of administrators many times.  It is so difficult to approach other professionals and ask challenging questions about their interactions with others, or about their approach to instructional practice in their classrooms.   I work really hard to stay focused on the needs of learners, and to facilitate open conversation as much as I can, but I also know there are times when I “shelve” some of the conversation I’d intended to have out of concern about the listener’s response.  I also know that I occasionally minimize the depth of concern or frustration I am feeling over something for the same reason.  I would like to practice being clear and direct, and trying harder to fully say what needs to be said, more often.  I know I have good relationships with my colleagues, and I know that when I have taken the plunge, I’ve generally been pleased with the outcome.  My experience has been that the best approach is to seek a common goal (which in my context is usually what is best for the kids).    During my Year of Yes, I want to be more courageous about taking this on, without losing a night or two of sleep over it first…

4.  Yes to saying no. (Guilt free).
With the help of her children, Shonda found three ways to say no.  1. No.  2. That's not going to work for me.  3. I'm going to be unable to do that.

I simply need to learn how to sit on my hands.  I am a joiner.  A committee joiner.  A conversation joiner.  A project joiner.  I love to be in the thick of things.  It’s how I learn best.  It’s not, however, how I listen best.  Volunteering for everything under the sun doesn’t give you enough time to do the first three things I’ve chosen for this Year of Yes.  If I’m going to network more effectively,  learn from others in new situations, take time to connect with students and learn from them as I watch them play and engage with learning, and be thoughtful and courageous in difficult conversations, I’m going to have to ensure I create some time and space for this work.  Shonda's three rules will be helpful for me, for sure.  I think I need to add one more to say to myself.  "No.   Listen.  You don't need to say anything right now."

I believe that embarking on my own Year of Yes will help me to become more thoughtful and reflective in my work, and help me to work with colleagues more effectively.  Research has shown  that the biggest indicator of student success is teacher efficacy.  If I can increase my own efficacy, it will help me work with other educators in a deeper way, which will in turn, help us to serve the children we teach.

Two quotes from Shonda sum up the power of this mantra.

"The Year of Yes, I realize, has become a snowball rolling down a hill. Each yes rolls into the next into the next and the snowball is growing and growing and growing. Every yes changes something in me. Every yes is a bit more transformative. Every yes sparks some new phase of evolution."

and

“Standing around like Wonder Woman in the morning can make people think you are more amazing at lunchtime.”

The Year of Yes is important for me, because helping myself  to have courage, and to feel powerful, will allow me to help my students to feel the same way.  A worthy goal -  after all,  they're all our kids.

Improving Student Outcomes through Case Study Inquiry

Last year, I facilitated a Case Study Inquiry project with teams from several different schools in the district.

Learning Services teachers partnered with classroom teachers to focus on an individual student they were concerned about, developing a deep understanding of that student's needs and exploring some learning tools and strategies to support that student in moving forward.

A team of us are getting reading to present this work at the Learning Forward Conference in Vancouver next month, so we've been reviewing and reflecting on our journey.  Personally, I've been thinking about my role as an educational leader, and thinking about ways to support teams in continued exploration, in finding ways for last year's learning to sustain itself,   How can I help professional development conversations from last year to become sustained pedagogical practice in the future?

Without exception, the most successful teams shared two key elements:

1.  GENUINELY KNOWING THE STUDENT.
Not just as data, but as a learner, as a person, as a member of the classroom and community.

2.  REAL COLLABORATION.
Regular, open, focused, goal-oriented, data-supported collaboration.



The evolution of the individual teams was really interesting to watch.  When we did our initial introductions in the fall, I asked everyone about their students, so that we could figure out what tools and strategies might be helpful to explore for them.  I was told things like:

• He's stubborn but likable.
• She doesn't attend, isn't connected to other students, won't accept help.
• She has VERY ingrained habits, no initiative for academics.
• He is constantly negotiating, shutting down and not trying.

When we checked back in at the end of May, the same students were described in this way:

• He's attentive, kind, empathetic and gentle.  Always seeking connections (with peers).
• She is developing the courage to take risks, is an independent and active learner.
• Visual spatial skills are a strength, she is proud of her attendance and math skills.
• He's creative and has a good sense of humor.  He has lots of oral knowledge and self esteem is happening.  He has his own identity and accepts his autism.

At no point during the year did I ask people to move to a strengths-based lens.  People were not asked to look for strengths, or to "focus on the positive."  I didn't point out that focusing on deficits or challenges made it harder to help these learners.  A strength-based approach just grew.  And was celebrated.

What was responsible for this shift?  How did these teams grow to know their learners so deeply, and move them so far over the course of a school year?  

I believe it was learning how to collaborate meaningfully and regularly.  Each time we got together as a larger learning community, people were asked to provide an update on their focus student.  They were asked to identify areas where their student was having success, and areas where lagging skills were still of concern.  There was a team of us facilitating the large-group sessions, we divided up the questions and focused on areas we thought would be of value to the teams.

At first, it was difficult.  Much of the feedback focused on work habits, attitude toward learning, and learners' challenges.  Undoubtedly this was partly due to the first session happening fairly early in the year, but we could also tell that people had chosen their focus students because they really were seeking some new ideas and strategies.  These were hard kids to figure out.   If they hadn't been, they wouldn't have been chosen for the project.

The team of four (myself, our SET BC District Partner, our Technology Teaching and Learning Resource Teacher, and the SET BC Consultant), poured over the information we'd been given, and determined that the best place to start was with some whole-class tools for instruction.  We needed to help the teams have a way to include their focus student, along with everyone else, into the instruction and lessons.  For this second gathering, we focused on whole-class lessons with Kurzweil, using Google tools and online math resources, and a few flexible iPad apps.  

Next was some more data collection, to see which of these tools had landed, and which ones needed more support or adjustment.  After a survey of participants, we worked to narrow the questions more specifically, visited some classrooms, and tweaked our suggestions/supports in a more individual way for the teams.  We also spent some time considering big ideas and core competencies, and borrowed heavily from Shelley Moore's website resources (blogsomemoore.com).  

We talked lots about "All, Some and Few" as a planning framework, considering the importance of EVERY learner in the room being part of every lesson.  Not in an adapted, or a sit-with-an-EA at the back kind of way, but in a "we-picked-a-starting-point-everyone-can-launch-from" kind of way.  

By our May wrap-up, people requested some specific instruction with more of the Chrome tools and extensions, and were excited to share the progress made by their focus students.  We weren't fishing for questions or guessing at which strategies to share.  The teams came with specific questions to support the learning and collaboration that was already occurring.

Do I believe these four sessions were magical opportunities for collaboration?  No way.  But I do believe that bringing people together over time encouraged them to talk in-between the sessions. There was no way to respond to the surveys and questions without talking to their colleague.  Specific questions in terms of identifying strengths, lagging skills, and questions around what teaching strategies and resources would support them,  encouraged teams to work together to encourage next steps. Folks wanted to have things to celebrate when they got together with the large group.  No one wants to be the team that's got nothing to celebrate.   The only way to show forward movement and success was to work together to create it.

Like most change processes, we hit an implementation dip.  When we got together in January, there was more than one team who weren't sure what they were going to share.  A couple of the students had started off well, but had slipped into old patterns, or non-attendance or frustrations.   But this was a collection of highly professional, dedicated, empathetic educators who weren't stepping away from a challenge.  The teams dug in and worked together to make sure they had some news to celebrate for our April gathering.  They poured over student assignments, reflections & observations to find the spark or connection with their learner.  They looked for new ways to reach their focus students and engage them.

It worked.  Regular, focused conversation about the students and their successes let us focus on the lagging skills in a proactive strength-based way.   All of the students in the project had successful experiences in their classrooms.  The teams noticed that the whole class benefited from the strategies being explored.  Teaching for "all" as a way to include the case study students meant teaching for "all" in the classroom as a whole.  

As for my original question: How can I help professional development conversations from last year to become sustained pedagogical practice in the future?   I have a plan.  I'll keep going.  I'll keep getting to  know teachers and learners.  I'll keep offering support and strategies where I can.  I'll keep seeking ways to provide educators with opportunities for ongoing, sustained, focused collaboration.  And I'll remember the lessons learned from this project.  These learners, and their teachers, have so much to be proud of. This learning community truly understood THEY ARE ALL OUR KIDS.

Trauma and Resiliency....at school

Over the past few months, I've found myself in a number of problem solving situations with school teams where we've sought ways to support learners who experience, or have experienced, ongoing trauma in their lives.

Knowing a student you care about is experiencing ongoing trauma is upsetting, and steps towards healing can be small.  I've been doing some reading and reflecting about how to help, and have come across some useful perspectives and resources. 

While I definitely don't have all the answers, I have learned a few things over the past while:

1.  Trauma responses are not the same as "poor choices" or "bad behaviour."

Kristin Souers and Pete Hall say it well in their book Fostering Resilient Learners-  they argue that the observable negative behaviours of a child experiencing trauma are "not an intentional attempt to hurt others; rather, it is the best tool they've got to manage the intensity of their reality"  (p. 56).   Souers and Hall go on to say that "these children aren't seeking attention (even though they will settle for it).  They are looking for a safe and trustworthy relationship (connection)" (p.93)

Ross Greene describes this as "lagging skills."  If we begin from a premise of "this child can't" as opposed to "this child won't,"  it shifts the whole conversation.


2.  What we say and do matters.   A lot. 

Think about frog ponds.  If environmentalists are concerned because the frogs in a pond are sick, and are not doing "frog things,"  we don't start by trying to fix the frogs. We start by looking at what is going on with the pond.   If we are going to support a child who has experienced significant trauma, we need to look at the environment surrounding this learner.  The school environment is the only one we have control over.  Traumatized children need to be surrounded by safety, empathy, and predictable structures.  They need to know we care and are in their corner, before any other strategies will work.

3.  Traumatized children need us to model healthy ways to respond. 

I've tried my hand at an infographic illustrating some of Souers' and Hall's suggestions.

(Click to enlarge)

4.  It's not about me.  (But it can feel like it sometimes). 

It's sometimes very challenging to move from a place where we're considering the "triggers" and "consequences,"  to a lens of empathy and support for some difficulties that are beyond the student's control.  It's hard not to take it personally when you feel like a target.

Using a structured approach to communication and resolution can help.

5.  I'm not a counselor, but I know lots of smart people who are. 

We've all heard the saying "it takes a village to raise a child."  It really does.  Where situations are layered and ongoing, our best way forward is together.  The situations that have had the best results have involved school and community partners working together, Integrated Case Management meetings where we put our heads together, and share what we know.  Going it alone is too tough, and someone with expertise in trauma informed practice is needed to create sustainable, proactive support structures.  After all, They're All Our Kids.

Our PATH to our North Star

I always love the start of new school year.  Buildings are shiny, we're all well-rested.  We've been thinking about ways to tweak our practice and collected some new resources we can't wait to try out.  I especially love energy that results from the reunions of educators gathering together to renew collaboration and get things started.

For me, the first "real" day of the school year is the Thursday afternoon of the first week of school.  As a District Principal, I'm still busy with the behind-the-scenes stuff the first couple of days while things get underway at the various sites.  But Thursday afternoon of that first week, at the first Learning Services meeting of the year, I get an opportunity to re-connect with the amazing group of educators that I work with, to share some of my summer learning, and update everyone on district directions for the year.

This year, it was also time to renew our vision statement for Learning Services.  With a new BC Re-Designed Curriculum to consider,  and our ongoing commitment to create the most inclusive classroom opportunities we can for the students we support, I really wanted to make sure we were starting the year in the same place.

Having been at a summer meeting that used a graphic artist to collect our thoughts, I had seen the benefit of a visual representation of our thinking, and wanted to try it with my team.  I have a number of colleagues who were trained in the PATH process a couple of years ago, and I knew this format to be a really exciting, positive way to visualize some goals and determine the initial action steps toward them.

If you're not familiar  PATHs, the North Star Paths, two masterful educators from Saanich School district near Victoria, BC, have put together some great resources to support things.  They're website is at:  www.northstarpaths.com.  This short video is a great overview of the PATH process.

 

We began our session by watching this clip to set the stage for everyone, then read Peter Reynold's story The North Star, to help everyone think about what their "North Star" is for working with the learners on their individual caseloads.   It's a great story for working with all ages, in considering thoughtful and personal goals.  

After that, we turned to our large page for setting goals and brainstormed what "Success for Our Students" would look like.  I'm super proud to be working with a group of people who kept such a clear focus on the whole-child.  We talked about everything, from academic success, to friendships, to self-regulation and self-advocacy.  

The list kept going, until we decided we'd better start turning this "technicolor dream" into some action steps, if we were going to help make it a reality for our learners.  I love this group.  We could have gone on celebrating successes all day long!

The next step was to define where we wanted our learners to be at by the end of the school year.  It's an ambitious list:

• to have strategies
• to be engaged, self-regulated learners
• to be connected
• to have good self-esteem
• to see possibilities

To decide where we were going, we next thought about "Now."  How are things for our students, what do we notice about them at this time of year?   This quickly brought us to a focus on relationships, and on collecting baseline information regarding our learners' strengths and lagging skills.  We also needed to decide who was along this journey with us.  This is the "enroll" stage. 

 

 The following step was to figure out what we needed to do by November, then by April, to help us reach our goal by the end of the year.  We agreed that knowing our learners super well, and fostering solid relationships with them and between them, was our greatest shot at helping them make significant progress this year.

 

We're going to word-smith our list of goals into a vision statement, and bring out our larger sheet again in November and April, to see how we're doing.  In the meantime, it feels to me like we've done a great job recognizing that regardless of where we work, or who we are supporting, They Are All Our Kids.

Correcting Course

Wow.  I knew things got a bit away from me at the end of the school year, but I didn't actually realize it had been this long since I'd posted a blog entry.   It's a fact of life in education.  We get going with the busy of our day-to-day roles, and the personal professional learning and reflection gets harder and harder to sustain.

So, how do we give ourselves permission to ebb and flow a little bit?  How do we keep moving forward as the to-do list whips by?  How do we sustain enthusiasm and commitment to our own learning when the fatigue of the onslaught of special events and year-end wrap-up tasks sets in?   And most importantly, how do we keep students at the center of our learning along the way?

At the BC CASE spring conference this year, I was introduced to a tool that I can't actually believe I hadn't encountered before.  Laura Tait, from the Nanaimo-Ladysmith School District, developed this Aboriginal Understandings Learning Progression rubric, which for me, is very honoring for educators, regardless of where they are on their personal journey.  While it was originally developed as a tool to support people with embedding indigenous beliefs and practices into teaching pedagogy, I believe it is just as valuable for other aspects of adult learning and professional development.

To consider new ways of approaching teaching and learning, and new ways of knowing, doing, and understanding the big ideas and core competencies of our new curriculum, the four levels of this rubric offer everyone a way in for everyone, and provide a structure for nurturing next steps.

I was really excited to be exposed to this rubric first at a BC CASE conference.  For those of you who aren't familiar with the group, it is the "BC Council for Administrators in Special Education."    Don't worry.  We're getting ready to look at our name, and our mandate, in the coming year-  for some time, CASE has been exploring the ideals of inclusive education and differentiated learning.  For me, seeing this rubric for the first time at a "special education" conference illuminated just how far we've come.   No where on this tool does it suggest a "special deal for special teachers,"  or suggest that some of us will be fully on the journey, while others will have an adapted or modified way in.  But even more importantly,  it includes an inherent assumption that we are engaging in the work.

For me, this rubric is a triple-play.

1.  It's a way for me to start thinking about indigenous understandings, and where and how they fit into the work that I do.  I'm not currently in a classroom role, but I do work with teachers and students all the time in developing IEP goals and in supporting inclusive classroom environments.  While I believe I am at the developing stage in terms of knowledge, I am only at the awareness stage of learning how to embed aboriginal content and cultural understandings in the work I do with students and teachers.   That's a hard thing for me to say.  After being on the First Nations' Liaison Committee in our district for almost 5 years, it should have occurred to me long before now that this wasn't just the domain of classroom teachers and our First Nations' team in the district.  At the same time, I'm excited to think about possibilities.

2.  It's a tool I can use when working with school teams and learning services teachers this coming year.  We've had a few years to start practicing deep differentiation, and to encourage and support a more inclusive approach to working with ALL students, and I think using this rubric, and the metaphor of approaching the water, boarding the canoe, raising the paddle, and journeying into deeper waters, can help us further discussion with respect to our own practice.  We know that our colleagues are in different places in terms of their beliefs and skills in working with diverse groups of students.  What language can we develop around this metaphor to support teacher beliefs, knowledge and skills, and how can this approach support our day-to-day work?

3.  It's a way to give myself permission to move forward with my own learning in my own pace and time.  All four bits of the journey are critical for a successful voyage.  I actually do a fair amount of paddling with our scout group, and we have kayaks as a family-  but they get used a lot more in fair weather than they do over the winter.  Some of the trips are for an afternoon, others for a week or so.  I know that I'll get out on the water when I can.  I certainly anticipate and appreciate each outing as it comes.  I learn new skills and gather information about routes and paddling skills in between the big events.  Which has left me thinking that it's ok if I go deeper with exploring new ideas and engaging in professional reading and blogging more at some times of the year than others.  I actually tried to write a post about this rubric a couple of times when I first saw it, but couldn't quite connect the dots into something coherent enough to put out there for others to see.  I'm ok with that now.  I'm rested, and excited about getting started on the stack of books I've amassed over the last couple of months-  and I know I will be ready for the new year and the learning that comes with it, at the end of the summer.

I might stock-pile a few draft posts though.  I've certainly learned how easily time can get away from me, and creating a bit of a structure to keep me moving forward may help me paddle toward deeper waters more often.

It's important for me to keep thinking about the skills and knowledge I need to work with students.   After all, THEY ARE ALL OUR KIDS....

Why being a Scouter makes me a better educator...

So in our house, it's all-scouts, all-the-time.  My two teens are off hiking, caving or paddling most every weekend.  I've been involved with their scout group for several years, but in the past year or so, I've been a lot more active as a leader.  When I started down this path, I had this idea that, because I'd been an educator for more than 20 years, I had skills to offer the kids and group, and would be able to help.  Having worked with children with unique needs for many years, I felt I could easily offer support in terms of providing inclusive opportunities for everyone. 

All of that proved to be true.  I do feel like I have contributed to the life of our troop.  I often take what I learned at school to scouts.  But more recently, I've been struck by the ways I can take scouts back to school.

Here are my top 5:

1.  When it comes to learning, it's about being TOGETHER, not about being in the same place.

We have a new program, called The Canadian Path, that's turning the program into a more formal continuum.  Starting in September, youth from ages 5-17 will be on the same 9 level continuum for camping skills, paddling skills, etc....they'll step in at the place most appropriate for them, and move to whatever's next.  But we've always done this as scouts.  You can't get your axe permit until you have your knife permit.  You don't go on overnight wilderness hikes until you've had some practice packing gear and going to camp.  You paddle 3-5 km trips when you're younger, and go on the 40 km portages after you're a bit more seasoned.

All of our groups have a range of ages,

usually spanning 3-4 years, and kids join us at any point, so the troop is always a mix of raw beginners and seasoned experts.  While we sometimes offer more challenging opportunities to the older kids, we usually go off with everyone, and just make sure that there's support where it's needed.  Experienced paddlers share canoes with beginners.  Everyone learns to light a fire, every year, and the older kids offer more tips and tricks to the newer ones, and get more and more independent.

It's amazing to me that both of my children have been able to pack for a wilderness adventure on their own since they were 11.  We didn't even own backpacks or outdoor sleeping bags when they started.  This weekend, they're caving and rock climbing on the Juan de Fuca trail.

2.  Everybody's in!


Heading out canoeing one weekend, we had gear and boats piled at the shoreline, and we were helping kids find partners and get started, when one of our scouts slipped on some seaweed and went down hard.  He's a young man with some unique needs, and one of the things that occasionally
happens when he's frustrated is that his language is pretty colorful and un-scouting-like.  The outburst on this particular day definitely drew the attention of a few of the adults standing around.

Before any of us could respond, one of the older scouts went over to him, said "I bet that hurt.  C'mon, you're with me,"  and started walking over to the canoe.  Within two minutes, the two of them had shoved off from shore and were laughing at a shared joke while they waited for everyone to load up.  I know this young man has the support of an educational assistant at school, but at scouts, he's one of us.  The kids don't have big talks about what to do when he's having a rough day, or wait for an adult to intervene.  Although the adults do step in to lend a hand from time to time,  the kids most often support him as a matter-of-course, because he's their friend and they know what to do.

3.  Service and Leadership are two sides of the same coin.

Scouting is all about service-  to yourself, to others, to your community.  When we fund raise, we share the proceeds amongst everyone, and learn that the hard work results in really neat opportunities that we wouldn't have other ways.   As the kids move through the program, they do linking activities with kids in the younger sections, and older youth often volunteer as leaders' helpers.   Many of our 15-18 year old Venturers come every week to beaver, cub and scout meetings, just because they love helping the younger kids.  We pick up litter, clean shorelines, remove invasive species, plant trees.

This sense of service really struck me the first day I spent 8 hours (really, 8, blistering hot hours) picking up garbage along the side of the highway with 13-16 year olds who were joking and chattering away the whole time they worked.  Not one complaint from anyone.  It didn't need to be a flashy job.  But it mattered that they felt like they were making a difference. 

4.  Persistence persists, even without our advice....

Two weeks ago, I was at the Klondike Derby in Sooke.  This is an event with 10 stations where each patrol of 6 kids (the ones in my group were aged 11-14) pull around a cart that's loaded with ropes, axes, first aid gear, a compass, etc.  The stations have them lashing ladders to climb trees, swinging on zip-lines partly of their own making, creating shelters, and responding to mock emergency situations.

We were out there for hours and hours, sometimes "winging it" with things we only knew a little bit about how to do.  Adults were bystanders-  if I offered advice or suggestions, they lost points.  Sometimes it was easy to keep quiet.  When we hit our 20th minute of a couple of kids suspended between two trees with no idea how to get the platform with the rest of their group across, biting my tongue was excruciating.  We timed out on that one, but I heard them chatter as the next group arrived and was having more success....we'll have it next year, and we weren't the least bit discouraged as we headed to the next stop.

5. Relationships bridge the gap between trepidation and success.

I've always been proud of the relationships that I build with colleagues, students, and their families.  The connections that I've made at school will stay with me for the rest of my life.  As a scouter, I feel these connections from a different perspective.  At scouts, I'm surrounded by people with skill sets dramatically different from my own.  When we're heading off in canoes or on a big hike, I might have a red shirt like the other adults-  but I'm as much of a learner as the kids.

Before heading to camp  with my kids, I had bits and pieces of outdoor experiences, but I'd never packed a canoe for an overnight trip, or lit a fire with only flint and steel.  The last time I did an orienteering course, I was 12 years old.  It feels different forging relationships with people in an environment when I lacked confidence in my skills, and often need to ask for help or advice.  I find I'm scanning the environment to learn what I can, and I'm proud of the fact after each event I feel a little bit more competent.


It took a little while to find my "scouting legs,"  but I quickly grew to realize that we have each others' backs.  It's understood that we have different things to bring to the table, and my connection to these people isn't because of our respective skills as Scouters  but because of the support and friendship we offer to one another.  We're a family.  We take care of each other, accept that we're all good (and struggle) with different things, and move forward together.

At scouts, we all benefit because They're All Our Kids.