Lessons Learned in Porlier Pass

My husband and I had an eventful paddling excursion last week.  As you read this, keep in mind that we already know that we were out there lacking some of the knowledge we needed.   We were definitely lacking the experience we needed.  The day was significantly longer than what we needed. Those were the "instant lessons" learned.

As in most circumstances where I find myself in way over my head about something, I start digging for the silver lining, the bit of learning that I can bring forward to make things easier next time.  As we brought the kayak onto the beach 30 km and 10 hours later, I looked at my husband wryly, and said, "there's a blog post in here somewhere."

No way was I going through a day like that and not garnering something of value from it.

If you're a water enthusiast, please pardon the basic definitions that follow.  They're alot more meaningful to us now than they were a week ago.

Slack tide:  that time between high tide and low tide where the water is calm and current at it's minimum.  It's tight window. About 40 minutes in Porlier Pass, between Galiano and Valdez Islands.




Flood tide:  when the tide is coming in.  In Porlier Pass, it means the water is heading back to Salt Spring.

Ebb tide:  when the tide is retreating from the shore.  In Porlier Pass, it means the water is heading out of the pass toward Vancouver.  

Flood and Ebb tides in Porlier Pass both look a bit like a fast-moving river.  In telling our story since returning home, my husband has taken to referencing it  as "the maelstrom."

Intuitive readers are already going to have identified that this was some of the deep learning that we hadn't quite solidified on our way to the Dionisio Point campground last week.  We had done some research, knew the water could be quite different at different times of day, and had planned to head in at slack tide.  We have a healthy respect for the water, and had saved tons of extra time, and had lots of extra food as well as our sleeping bags, in case we ended up needing to spend the night.  We had checked and re-checked the tide table before we headed out.

Yet, 3 1/2 hours into an already challenging paddle-  strong currents are found throughout the Trincomali Channel -  as we entered Porlier Pass under glorious sun for our picnic -  we didn't truly understand how quickly things would change.  After a 15 minute munch, (under the only cloudy skies we had the whole four days we were away), we looked back at the way we'd come, to see a vastly different body of water.  It turns out that most of the "slack time" is in the lead-up to the published time for slack tide, not after it.

Before putting the kayak back into the water, we walked out to the point to peek around the corner, and found a roiling boil of swirling whirlpools and what looked like a fast moving river, heading the opposite direction of where we wanted to go. We knew it was 6 1/2 hours before the next slack tide. The actual campsite was a bit further around the point that we'd anticipated, so our picnic spot had actually been rocky shelf,  about 500 m shy of the spot we had originally planned to go to, and was somewhere that wouldn't really be great for camping,  so we decided to go for it and see what happened.  The plan was to stick right along the shoreline and chip away at things bit by bit.  If necessary, we'd pull in along the way and spend the night.

That worked to get us through the really fast moving water right at the point.  We got through the first bit more easily than we expected.  Right up until the kayak got wedged on some shallow rocks.  After rocking side-to-side for a bit to loosen ourselves, and launching off of the rock we backed into, we shot into the middle of the pass.

By now, our clear heads were a little less clear.  We got this idea that the water looked smoother in the middle, so we stayed there, rather than heading back towards the shoreline.  We paddled like crazy to get ourselves out the mouth of the pass.  Forty-five minutes later, when we realized that the landmarks right beside us hadn't changed, (except for when we took turns having a sip of water and shot backward 100ft), it was time for a new plan.

We took a hard right turn to tuck in behind some rocks to regroup. A short breather there let us brainstorm another plan.  There was a second out-cropping of rocks right at the mouth of the pass a little further north, we decided to leapfrog to that.  We did a full 360 in a whirlpool on the way, but safely got behind it.  My husband stepped out to see what that last point looked like- we decided to hug one more corner in the kayak, rather than portaging, and went for it.

This time we made it, and headed to a beach at the southern tip of Valdez Island.  Heading north instead of south added about 7 km to our paddle by the time we would get back to Salt Spring,  but we were finally in safer water, and knew we'd be able to make it back before dark.

I'm not telling this story as a celebration of our kayaking prowess. There's no doubt we were in way over our heads and need to be a lot smarter when out on the ocean in the future.  There's a reason why people go into Dionisio at slack tide, stay over, and leave the next day, at a new slack.  Clearly our misunderstanding the difference between the direction of the water at ebb and flood meant we could have sent us halfway to Vancouver rather than propelling us out to Triconomali after lunch.

But I think I've found a pretty good metaphor for the changes coming for me in the fall.  After 20 years in the Qualicum school district, with the last 5 1/2 in district learning services, I'm moving back into a school-based admin role, with Nanaimo-Ladysmith Public Schools.  I have plenty of learning to do.  Not only do I need to develop and understanding of the district's systems and processes, I'll have TWO school communities to learn from - one elementary and one secondary.

I've been doing some research this summer.  I've had tours of the schools and met the principals I'll be working with at both sites.  I know a little about the schools' goals and focus, as well as the initiatives that the two teams have been working on.  My husband is already with the school district, so I know a little bit about the processes and overall district culture and vision.

It's like paddling in slack tide.  I'm armed with information and I'm moving forward, but without experiencing it first-hand, I don't really know what the waters ahead will bring.  I don't know where the periods of calm will be, nor do I know when the whirlpools and fast-moving current of the flood and ebb tides will start to pull me somewhere unexpected.

Like paddling in the heavy currents of the pass, I need a plan that provides me with a way to collect the information I need, as well as the moments to pause, to reflect, and to correct course, if I'm to be successful in this transition.

I've decided to draw a springboard for this plan from the Leadership Symposium I attended with Sandra Herbst and Anne Davies in early July.   We spent 2 1/2 days talking about ways to "become a system of Master Learners."

Over the course of the session, Anne, Sandra and their team encouraged us, as a group of educational leaders, to consider evidence of being master learners in our own practice.    We were asked to reflect on how our own work aligned with that of the broader system- both at the school level, and at the district level, and to consider "are you owning or renting the work?"

I believe that to successfully navigate the complex tides of the coming school year,  I need to work toward becoming a master learner, to soak up what I can of the new culture and seek opportunities to contribute to my new environment in thoughtful, deliberate ways.  Anne and Sandra call this "Assessment in the Service of Learning."   

They argue that to do this, leaders must deliberately and systematically collect data as evidence of specific goals.  This data, must take a variety of forms-  

a) products - samples of student learning, quantitative data; 
b) conversations - with teachers, students and parents, and 
c) direct observation of learning activities - by both adults and students.  

Looking for the patterns and connections in this data (triangulation), will create a picture of progress toward those goals, and help to identify the areas where additional work needs to be done.

Once I decide on my focus goals, (which I will narrow down after I learn more about the goals and focus of the schools and district), I will begin to collect evidence and build myself a portfolio.

The digital portfolio I started a few years ago is a repository.  An electronic photo album of bits of writing and PowerPoint presentations from workshops I've hosted, illustrating where my thinking was at at the time the samples were generated.  It's a good definition of my beliefs and philosophy regarding my role as an educator.

My new portfolio will be far more focused and organic.  It's not that the things I've collected are irrelevant-   in fact, I believe they're a great snapshot of my learning over time - but they are not focused on my current journey of  becoming a master learner.  They are not focused on Assessment in the Service of Learning with respect to the specific goals and objectives of the schools and district I will be working in next year.   The "umbrella" goal of my revised portfolio will be to help bring me into alignment with my new environment.

By collecting valid, reliable, evidence in multiple ways,  I'll be able to see progress toward my personal goals.  If these personal goals are drawn from the goals of the school and district, I will be in alignment with the bigger picture.  This should help me to find ways to contribute to the work being done both in classrooms in my own schools, and across the district.

Anne and Sandra suggest three questions to help focus the reflection that follows this evidence gathering:

What counts?

What matters?

What's important?

Creating this portfolio will also give me an opportunity to provide what Anne and Sandra describe as "tight support and loose pressure."  If I'm becoming a master learner, I will recognize that collecting data is not simply to help me complete a tick-box-  it's a way to check-in and learn how things are going in a deep and meaningful way.  Once I am more informed about the status of the initiatives and student learning in my schools, it will be easier to encourage myself, and my team, to keep moving forward.  And it will compel me to provide whatever support and encouragement I can to make further growth happen.

My husband and I were in over our heads when we paddled out of "the maelstrom."    Our focus and goal shifted significantly over the course of the day.  In collecting bits of evidence as things unfolded, we adjusted our plans and strategies- and our perspective on what counted, what mattered, what was important.   It wasn't until we deliberately sought calmer waters and really took stock of our environment and our learning to that point when we were able to adjust our goal and make a plan that led to a successful adventure.  It also very clearly pointed us in the direction of additional learning we need to do.

That's the bit I'll take with me in this transition. The deliberate collection of evidence in a portfolio, and intentional stops in the year to reflect on what I've learned, will allow me to construct that moment in calmer waters to take a look around my environment and to consider the variety of options and pathways available to me, helping me to make the best decision I can in moving forward at that point in time.  To provide both myself, and my team, with that tight support and loose pressure toward our goals.

In becoming a master learner, I will better be able to serve the students and staff of my new school communities.  Because, they're all our kids.