Leadership Blog - September 2020
Here's to a Year of Kindness and Compassion
By Kyle Arlington, Superintendent of Schools
My favorite teacher was Mrs. Sullivan, my 10th-grade English teacher. Every now and then, I look at my high school’s website, wondering if she retired. I consider reaching out to her and then talk myself out of it. She probably wouldn’t remember me anyway.
She inspired me to be an English teacher. I really liked reading but I liked her more. I missed a week of school after my father died. When I came back, Mrs. Sullivan was the only teacher who asked me how I was doing. I assumed the others didn’t know or didn’t care. My geometry teacher convinced me that it was the latter. On my first day back to math class, I was greeted by a folder on my desk with a bunch of worksheets in it, along with a note that said I had until the end of the week to make them up or get zeroes. She drew a smiley face in red pen at the bottom of the note, adding insult to injury.
Showing kindness and compassion always mattered to me, but I understood it on a whole new level because of Mrs. Sullivan. I tried to carry that into my own teaching.
Occasionally, I run into former students. Some I remember, some I don’t. Sometimes, they say kind things like, “You taught me how to be a better writer.” Sometimes, they say ridiculous things like, “I remember you found my retainer on my desk after class and gave it to me the next day.” Sometimes, they just say, “You were my high school English teacher” and keep walking. (I assume those students weren’t exactly fans of mine.)
These encounters, and my own experiences in school, are a constant reminder that teachers make a difference. They shape who we are. How they talk to us, stays with us. How they treat us, sticks with us. When they’re “there for us,” we remember. When they’re not, we remember more.
This year, more than any other, kindness and compassion will matter. As a Superintendent, practicing kindness and compassion doesn’t equate to weakness - it doesn’t mean I can’t hold teachers accountable and grow their professional capital too. For teachers, it doesn’t mean they can’t correct classroom behaviors or offer critical feedback and do it with kindness and compassion. It doesn’t mean parents can’t disagree with teachers. That disagreement can be civil and productive.
To say anxieties around our return to school are running high would be a gross understatement. I’ve heard equally from people who want in-person instruction as much as I have heard from people who want all-remote learning. I’ve heard equally from parents who were satisfied with distance learning in the spring as I have from people who feel strongly that it was inadequate.
These anxieties are pitting parents against teachers; teachers against board members; everyone against the Governor. And scenarios like these are playing out across the country.
While I’m not sure I can change the national tenor associated with our return to school, we can try and start locally - we can try and start in Kenilworth. Maybe we start to integrate kindness and compassion in these ways:
Let People Prove You Wrong
Our neighbor keeps saying to my wife, “Let us know who Kinsley has for kindergarten, and I’ll tell you if the teacher is ‘good.”’ I want to say, “How are you defining ‘good?’ Based on your experience? Based on what your child needs? Mine may need something different.” I hope this year, we all suspend judgment based on rumors and hearsay, and let people prove us wrong. I ask this of teachers too. Several years into teaching 10th grade, I stopped showing my class lists to 9th-grade teachers before the school year began. Sometimes the students I was “warned about” never turned out to be a challenge. Sometimes, the students I wasn’t “warned about” were the ones who gave me the most difficulty. It was a reminder that I needed to form my own opinion. A teacher is not either good or bad. A student is not either a good student or a bad one. We all have strengths and growth areas.
Go Right to the Source
Serving as your Superintendent comes with the responsibility of solving problems. But, a high-functioning district is one where the superintendent isn’t the “Chief Problem Solver.” Most likely, I can help solve a problem, but it will take longer than if a parent directly approaches a teacher, or vice versa. Those closest to the situation usually have the most information and the best solutions.
Assume We’re All Trying Our Best
We all make mistakes; we all have complex intentions; we all somehow contribute to problems. I wonder how much better our school year would be if we assumed everyone’s actions were coming from a good place.
Despite all of the unknowns this school year holds, I hope that kindness and compassion are the north stars that guide us. If these are our core values as we parent and teach, I believe we’ll continue to strengthen the small, supportive community that makes us proud.
Because who we are, is how we parent.
And who we are, is how we teach.
In hindsight, I learned this from Mrs. Sullivan. One day, I’ll get the courage to write to her and let her know. Or, at least send her this blog.