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Let's Play the Faculty Shuffle

That'll teach me to get complacent.

I can't believe I thought we'd actually retain all of our faculty heading into the next academic year, but I did. Two days ago I was approached by our beloved middle school math teacher who advised me I'd better start looking for a replacement. I'm really not bitter about it, honestly, because he's an excellent teacher and he's only pursuing his dream, but the timing could not have been worse.

But I guess that's just how it is.

So now I'm faced with finding just the right replacement at this late stage of the game, and I must determine how I must play Faculty Shuffle - the process where we move folks around to try and create just the right fit where needed.

This is not one of my favorite annual dilemmas, because Faculty Shuffle is a political minefield. Sometimes things work out, but oftentimes they simply blow up in your face.

Fun stuff.

Treadmill Desk Debut

I'm proud to say I'm now up and running with the desk. The entire school now knows just how strange I am, though many, I think, are envious. My secretary insists she's moving her treadmill from home to her office once the school year is over. We'll just see about that...

I'm cruising at 1.3 mph as I type this and am officially on day 4 of treadmillercizing during work. I haven't even broken a sweat, though I have been bumping the AC down a notch or two to stay cool. I've also discovered the need to invest in better work shoes and a pair of Dr. Scholl's gel insoles. I've amassed well over 10 miles thus far, and hope to accumulate over 15 per week.

I'll keep you posted as to my progress. If I get up the courage, perhaps I'll even post a picture. It looks quite impressive, if I do say so myself.

PTO President? A "No Thanks" Job - Literally.

It's interesting to me how opinionated some parents can be when it comes to the PTO. I hear alot of "It should be done this way" and "Why isn't everyone included?" or "That sure was a bad idea..."

So it struck me as really odd that when we opened the box of nominations for PTO President there were only 2 forms. And this is at a school that represents nearly 100 families!

So I called those folks plus 2 more I thought would make a good fit and heard a big "Thanks, but no thanks" four times in a row. Luckily, after some additional scrambling, I found another lovely mother who was gracious enough to accept the role.

Parents: Here's a new rule - if you aren't willing to help, then you don't have the right to complain!

Admissions Admission

I love admissions conferences with prospective families. I seem to find myself either impressed with parents' thoughtfulness and honesty or completely shocked by their absolute absence of tact and grace.

At today's conference we hosted a lovely family. They asked all the right questions, were able to clearly and succinctly tell me what they wanted, and established an excellent rapport with myself and our faculty. Although we currently don't have space for a new child in the fifth grade, I'll probably go completely out of my way to try to figure out how we can make a space for them here at our school.

I look forward to the next admissions conference. It may be a completely different experience, and if I'm lucky, it will be someone who shows up late, asks ridiculous questions, shares outright judgments, and makes outrageous demands. That's my favorite kind of meeting; and no, I'm not joking.

If I know anything about myself, it's that I revel in being able to pass judgment on ludicrous behavior. Sure, it's the kid who suffers in the end, but the drama surrounding a visit by unfit parents is downright intoxicating at times.

Pretty sick of me, don't you think?

The Depths of Denial

Today a young girl came to the office to get some ice for her head. She claimed one of the third grade boys hit her with a rock, and he didn't even say he was sorry. So I put my arm around her, marched her over to the third grade where we stood silently just inside the door frame. Slowly each member of the class took note of her standing there upset with her baggie full of ice dripping down her arm and forehead. Before too long the accused boy approached.

"What happened?" he incredulously asked.

His performance was so convincing I almost spun the little girl around to ask her if she was telling the truth. Luckily, the teacher approached to intervene. She began firmly lecturing the young boy and maintained that uncomfortable kind of eye contact only a seasoned teacher can deliver. Before I knew it, the boy started squirming in his spot and an apology came spilling forth.

I tell you Hollywood is missing out. Movies should cast mischievous eight year old boys like crazy, for they are some of the best actors I know.

Spring Fever

Spring fever is settling in, and I don't like it. Motivation drops to an annual low for everyone here at school. I know this sounds crazy, but I'm looking forward to working this summer while everyone else is on break. It's the only time of the year when I have the luxury of thinking outside of the box, on my own schedule. It's when my creativity shines. Too bad it comes at a time when there's no one else around to notice.

Email Woes

Although this situation occurred nearly two weeks ago, it is nevertheless too good not to document for posterity's sake.

As Headmaster, it is my esteemed duty to manage complaints. Fortunately, I don't have many, but when they arise, they almost always seem to come from the same three or four families.

I usually pride myself on being able to manage naysayers with respect, patience and diplomacy, but two weeks ago I damaged my record a bit. You see, I had spent the latter part of the day talking with a student who had a history of poor behavior, but who had in recent months improved dramatically. He experienced a small setback on this day, and I, along with his teacher, spoke with him about not backsliding any further. Case closed, or so I thought.

The next day I received a short, terse email from the boy's parents telling me they had learned he was sent to my office without their knowledge and based on the story they heard, we had no business chastising him.

I promptly composed an email to the boy's teacher to share the parents' dissatisfaction. I kept the entire email as professional as I could, but added that I would not tolerate this kind of accusatory tone from this family anymore. I clicked the "Send" button and as I waited for it to shoot away toward its intended target I noticed that the boy's parents' email address was hanging in the "To:" field! Before I could do anything, the email window vanished and it was delivered directly to the wrong address.

I freaked out. After a few minutes of pacing up and down the halls, I decided to call the family immediately, confess my mistake, read the email directly to them, and try to turn the whole matter into an opportunity to discuss what had become a lingering sense of animosity between this family and the school. Luckily, the conversation become just that, but I anguished over my idiotic mistake for days and days.

I love computers and could never imagine going back to life without email, but one thing this event taught me was to never hit "Send" before triple checking the recipients.

How's that for some nonsense?