Can we teach love? We must.

Sunday I woke up excited for a number of reasons.  My daughter and I were going to participate in the OSU Women's Football Clinic, a fundraiser for the James Cancer Hospital.  Spending all-day with my adult daughter is one of my life's greatest joys.

As I began to leave my home to pick her up, I noticed the numerous news media notifications.  50 feared dead.  50 believed injured.  Orlando.

Oh, no.  Not again.  Another supposed radicalized terrorist.  Many innocent people killed.  Because of who they loved.  Unfathomable.

As an educator who spent the last 15 years of her career as a high school administrator and the last nine years of that as principal of one of America's top high schools, I, too, worried about one day the unthinkable happening.  I cried the day we learned of Sandy Hook and, as a principal myself, perseverated about the innocent children and staff killed and the bravery of the principal and staff members who died trying to save their students.

Bastions of once safe places no longer exist.  Churches, schools, theaters, work places, entertainment clubs-- all places that people of similar interests gather, have become places of targeted hatred.

We no longer solely fight our wars soldiers to soldiers.  We now fight them in our safe places.  Mental illness has also caused people to strike out in hatred.

Sunday night after the clinic I packed up my computer as Monday I was presenting at an educational conference, Connect for Success.  Between sessions on Student Engagement, Innovation and PLC work, we engaged in conversations about Orlando as throughout the day the names and faces of the identified victims came up on our phones and laptops.

It is hard to think about educational accountability, ESSA and Common Core when we consider the state of our world.  Why so much hate?  Can we teach love?

Are our schools filled with love or hate?  Teaching tolerance is not enough.  Tolerance reminds me of to tolerate someone.  We need to not only accept others; we need to love them.

We need to have love in our schools, in our classrooms, and teach our students to love.  Can we do it?  Believe me.  I have no answers for the violence and hatred in this world.  It certainly looks to me like my generation has not done a very good job of teaching love.

We may have raised standards in school.  I believe the students in our high school have more doors open and have more opportunities than even before.  Many enter college with over a year of college credit.  They do more community service, have higher GPA's, and are more motivated than any students I know.  They are wonderful human beings.

But are they prepared for this world?  Is it possible for us to prepare for this world?  I have no answers but lots of questions myself.  Believe me, this is an apolitical, non-judgmental post which no indicting any religion or group in this world.

But I do know this.  Schools have layer after layer of things we are required to teach.  It just keeps coming.  I just read that now there is a movement in our state to to pass a law to require to teach cursive writing. Really?

Maybe we should be requiring teaching love.  Can we do it? Should we be doing it?  Well, everyone keeps telling us to teach everything else.  Schools throughout history are the ones who are supposed to teach students how to be good citizens. Now good digital citizens. Good character.  Community service. Academics.  Athletics. Student government. Democracy. Tolerance.  Global learning.

All I know is now more than anything else this world needs love.  And love strong enough to stand up for others who are hated and killed for being who they are.  And if not us, who?

As a principal, my students and staff may have disagreed with my decisions, but I believe they knew how much I loved them.  I am not afraid to say it.  I loved my students and I loved my staff and I loved my job.  And I believe that affected our school culture and climate positively as we made decisions to make each student feel valued and loved.  We cared about them as people and as learners.  And I know our staff truly loved our students also, for they are extraordinary educators and people.

Photo by Stuart Miles, freedigitalphotos.net

But today's world is not getting better.  Our daily lives can  be filled with anxiety and fear, when we travel, when our loved ones travel, when we gather at large sporting events, large rallies, and sadly, when we gather at our own places of worship, especially if tragic events happen recently or in proximity to what we are doing.

And then after a while, our anxiety eases, and we begin to forget.  Maybe, we think, this is the last one.  The last mall attack, the last theater attack, last club, last school, last church. . . . and then Orlando.

We must fight hate with love.  And so, can we teach love?  Yes. We can.  More importantly, we must.  We must teach and reinforce love in our history lessons and in our literature pieces we choose.  We must point out the devastating hate history we have around the world so that it never happens again.  We must make it real.

When I taught 8th grade language arts we "taught"about  the Holocaust.  We read Night and brought in a Holocaust survivor or their relative.  We made trip after trip to our school library and filled our classroom with six million pages of books, one for each victim.

Today we can also teach love in our classrooms, hallways and bathrooms, anywhere students are bullying, harassing or making fun of someone because of their sexual orientation, their weight, their hair color, their religion, their interests, or just because they don't like them.  We also need to teach love by our own words and actions, whether students are around or not, for if we cannot love each other though we may be different, we cannot expect our students to love each other.

We need to continue to teach our students and our staff to speak up when they hear anyone make any threats about anyone or any place. We need to work with our parents, for we cannot do this alone either, to also teach love in their actions and words, to teach love by example to their children, and to also be our eyes and ears in social media where threats may occur.

Graphic by Stuart Miles, freedigitalphotos.net

We must teach love and we must mean it.  We must teach our students that although we may be different from someone, that does not mean we have to disagree, and just because we disagree, we do not have to dislike.  Or hate.  And that should also apply to our Presidential candidates, for our children are also watching and learning from them also.

We are all part of some group in the world who is currently or has been persecuted, tortured and even killed.  We are women, men, gay, straight, Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, Muslim, white, black, Native American, Latino, mentally ill, disabled, Middle Eastern, American, African, etc. And we must learn to stand up for each other when someone is the victim of hate. Why?

A vey poignant poem entitled "The Hangman"  by Maurice Ogden best illustrates the reason.  In the poem, the Hangman visits a town and builds a scaffold.  He then selects a citizen to hang, only telling the town that he hangs "He who serve me best." One by one, he hangs citizens, while the other townspeople stand by and let him. for he was not coming for them.  Until only one citizen remained.  And then the Hangman came for him, because, since no one had stood up to the Hangman, there was no one left to save him either. The silence of the citizens "served him best."

And so, we must stand up to hate with love.  For the larger group we are all a part of is humanity.  And an attack on one of us, is an attack on all of us.

Photo courtesy of Photostock, freedigitalphotos.net

And we, our children and our grandchildren are not safe until we are able to overcome hate with love.  Can we teach love? Yes, in our homes and in our schools and in our churches.  We can, and we must.

You Can Do It!

For nine years, I served as principal of a then new Central Ohio suburban high school. We opened dedicated to initiating and implementing the principles of Professional Learning Community work and sought resources to inform, guide, and inspire staff.

One of the best resources we discovered was On Common Ground, edited by Richard DuFour, Robert Eaker, and Rebeca DuFour. With our Central Office's support, we purchased a copy for each staff member, that year and every year for new staff, and we utilized it as our PD focus and application.

My well-worn copy of On Common Ground.

It is a unique compilation of articles by some of America's best educational researchers and reformists supporting characteristics of specific research, such as assessment, and how it is supported in and by Professional Learning Community work.  Contributors include Michael Fullan, Douglas Reeves, Michael Schmoker, and Rick Stiggins, and other notables.

One of the chapters, entitled the "Masters of Motivation,"became one of our most valuable resources in our work with changing the culture and climate of our building from an emphasis on teaching to an emphasis on learning.  Why?  Because it is the chapter that speaks of learning communities as schools of hope, schools of "effort-based ability."

In short, the author Jonathon Saphier encourages us to examine the message we send our students every day in our classrooms.  Do we convey to our students that we believe they can each do rigorous work to high standards, even if they do not believe it themselves?

He states that we should and must continue to exhort students in our words and actions that "What we are doing is important. You can do it. I will not give up on you."(p. 87, On Common Ground.)


"What we are doing is important.

You can do it.

I will not give up on you."


It is a simple mantra, but one that as we reflected on it, we realized that we were not implementing.  As a high-performing high school that offered both AP and IB courses, in addition to Honors, we often started the year with long syllabi and first week of school messages that emphasized how hard this class was going to be, how prepared you better be to be able to succeed and how much work you were going to have to do.

We emphasized the "this is important work" portion without reassuring students that yes, they could be successful and yes, we were there to help them learn it.

As a result, many students fled to guidance in the first week of school to drop the very AP and IB courses we had encouraged and recommended that they take.

We had excellent discussions with our staff about the sometimes subtle and sometimes overt messages we sent students about whether they should be in that class or not.  We also realized that we sometimes believed ourselves that certain students shouldn't be in certain courses.

This, of course, is an antithesis to the PLC belief that we all need to commit to focus on learning, that students can learn, and it is our job to assure learning in every classroom, every period, every day.

We had rich discussions in staff meetings, department chair meetings, same-subject team meetings, department meetings and casual conversations.  This dialogue and its outcome was one of our tipping points in our PLC work.  We HAD to believe that every student could learn, and we had to recognize that it was our job to ensure it.  More importantly, we needed to build classroom and school-wide structures to become a school of hope with high aspirations for every student.

The Math Department actually printed these words on a poster and had it on every math classroom door: "Math is hard work. You can do it. We will help you."  Imagine the message that sent every student as they entered math class.  Soon, one by one, more teachers embraced this commitment as their own motivating mantra to engage students in believing that yes, they could learn and would learn.

Embracing "effort-based ability" and overtly teaching effective effort strategies to our students helped transform our school into a school of hope.  More importantly, our teacher-student relationships strengthened with a commitment to learning.  We changed from individual teachers communicating and teaching content to collaborative teaching teams communicating to students that we do important work, they can do it, and we will not give up on them.

As principals, we also realized the importance of communicating this same belief to our staff as they continued to engage in our PLC journey.  Adults, as well as students, need to know that this work is important, they they can do it, and that we will not give up on them.

What are we "settling" for in our schools?

A recent series of TV commercials features "settlers" dressed as pioneers in a variety of settings, including engaging in pioneer cooking and farming tasks in their home and neighborhood, parodying their choice of cable in contrast to the choice of a satellite provider.  Their response to questions about living in the past, doing things the way they have always done them, is that they are "settlers" so that is what they do.

It's been said that if a time traveler came to 2016 from the pioneer days, he or she would recognize or understand little, except for our schools, especially our high schools.  They would recognize a teacher in front of a room, students in rows, copying notes and working at desks.

Certainly many schools and districts have worked hard to change this stereotype of classrooms and teachers, with many innovative instructional strategies, educational research implementation and maker spaces changing the face of our schools for our students.

Having served as a high school administrator the last 15 years, the last nine as principal of a National Blue Ribbon School and National Model PLC at Work School, I have engaged in a PLC journey with all key stakeholders and seen the merits of systemic change in increased student learning.  Moreover, I have worked with met many committed educators, dedicated to invoking needed change that enhances student learning.

But are we also like the settlers in the commercial?  Are we also settling for certain things every day in our schools still because that is the way schools have always done it?  Even in the very best high schools, there still seems to be much work to do.  And in schools who have not yet engaged in substantive change, we are indeed mired in 20th century practices in a 21st century world.

Professional Learning Community work is one of the educational reforms that many schools are in the process of initiating or implementing.  As identified by Richard DuFour and Bob Eaker in Professional Learning Communities at Work (p 15), PLC work calls for teachers to work in collaborative teams to address 4 questions: What is it we want students to learn? How do we know they have learned it?  What do we do when they don't learn it?  What do we do when they already know it?

In PLC work, teachers focus on student learning in collaborative teams. Photo by Stuart Miles at freedigitalphotos.com.

But how many of us are settling for less, even though we know the research demonstrates that focusing on these four questions can and will enhance student learning?

How many of our schools support and create collaborative time for teachers within the schools day so that every student learns the essential learning targets or standards?  How many of us can walk in our high school classrooms and see every Biology teacher teaching the same learning target every day as  scope and sequence has been collaboratively implemented?  Or are we settling for less, leaving students either lucky or unlucky on getting the teacher who is delivering the intended curriculum?

How many of us provide professional development to our teaching staffs to create valid and reliable common assessments, again ensuring that each student is measured fairly on the essential learning targets?  What about supporting teachers to meet regularly to analyze the assessment data, informing their instruction and providing the requisite feedback to students in order to inform them of their learning progress?

Or are we settling for individually-created teacher tests, some of them re-used year after year regardless of student achievement, varying from classroom to classroom, negating validity and reliability.  Are we settling for teachers to simply record grades, without monitoring those grades, rather than analyze the data, not only to inform students of their progress but to inform teachers of the quality of their instruction.

What about when students do not learn?  Have we put into place systemic, building-wide  interventions for each student who is not learning?  Do we implement mandatory interventions based on our developed pyramid of interventions and analyze regularly our building D and F reports and other data? Are we committed to providing extra time and support for students to learn what we are teaching?

Or are we settling for less? Is our school dependent on individual teachers to respond, or not, dependent on their personal beliefs about teaching and learning? Do the same students stay on our D and F list grading period after grading period because we are settling for schools where our job is to teach and the student's job is to learn and when they don't it is their fault, just as the majority of our schools did in the past.

Photo by Stoonn at freedigitalphotos.com.

And finally, what about those students who already know the majority of the material before they take the class and the assessments?  Are we just settling for them to get A's because  we have always had those extraordinary A students, the kids who are great at "doing" school? Or are we also committed not only to their achievement but also to their growth, providing differentiation and enrichment so that they, too, can also learning at their highest potential?

What about it?  Are their practices in your school or district that you are "settling" for?  American education is at a crossroads, out-performed globally, and the time for change is now.

Whether you are involved in PLC work, Hattie's visible learning work, formative assessment, Marzano research or a combination of them all, we can no longer be settlers in those aspects of our schools that we know need changed.

While it may be OK to "settle" for cable TV, we can no longer settle for antiquated practices in our schools.  Our students' future lies in our hands.

Beginnings are messy

Beginnings are messy.  There's no doubt about it. But beginnings are also essential, integral, and imperative.  Nothing gets done without a beginning.  Just like this new blog, See. Believe. Do.

As a principal and an educator,  I often saw how sometimes change was hard because the beginning was muddy and we are often uncomfortable with unclear starts.  We always drive more slowly, sometimes painfully so, on an unfamiliar road.

I started on a PLC odyssey 15 years ago after seeing Rick DuFour at a Principal's Academy at the Central Ohio Educational Service Center.  Then an assistant principal at a traditional high school with 2400 students, eight portables, and 70 teachers on carts, it took almost 2 years to actually start true PLC work.  The beginning was messy but necessary, with much exploration with a dedicated team of teachers who wanted and were willing to do high school differently.

Staying on a winding and curvy journey, especially if it is unfamiliar, is often difficult. (Photo by Exsodus at freedigitalphotos.net)

That core group transitioned to a new district high school, and again, we were in the beginning stages of PLC work for another two years. With integral groundwork and research laying the foundation, we embraced a remarkable PLC journey, resulting in being named a National Blue Ribbon School and a National Model PLC at Work School.

And without that messy beginning work involving our entire learning community of staff, parents and students,  our transition to a school of learning, a systemic focus on the 4 PLC questions, a pyramid of interventions and creative and innovative instructional strategies to better ensure learning would have never occurred.

This new blog and this initial post reflects my change in roles from a high school administrator for the last 15 years, the last nine as principal, to the thought leader and founder of See. Believe. Do., a company dedicated to transforming schools from a focus on teaching to a focus of learning.  It is from one of my favorite quotes, for I truly believe we must have the "vision to see, the faith to believe, and the courage to do" if we are to truly change and impact education for each student.

And yes, this beginning has been messy, too. It has taken many months to start the new Twitter @seebelievedo, Facebook (See. Believe.Do) , web domain and LLC. All of the steps made me realize why I made this transition.  We have many dedicated educators and administrators who are working very hard to change our American public education system.   Many I have met on Twitter, at conferences and at workshops.  They are continually initiating, reforming, changing and aligning to best practices.  They know that beginnings are also messy, but worth it.

But there are thousands of schools in America, public, private and charter.  And not all of them are focusing or trying to focus on learning.  How many schools have started PLC work and given up?  Design thinking? Whole-school literacy? Formative assessment? Visible Learning?

Even the best educators strive to persevere in their work, often in the face of many barriers-- fixed mindsets; district, state and federal mandates; a lack of resources; a lack of leadership capacity; continual building or district turnover, ever-changing district initiatives etc.

Barriers are part of the process of moving forward.  (Photo by Stuart Miles, free digital photos.net)

Often it is the beginning of the work, which may last longer than anticipated, and all of the messiness that accompanies it, that dooms its success.  Educators, including principals, often just decide it is easier to just go with the flow rather than start or sustain really important learning work.  Rather than see barriers as a part of the process of change and an opportunity to succeed, they see them as insurmountable obstacles.

It is easier to simply give up before they start, like many of us do in life.  We don't start something because we dread the start.   For example, once we learn to ski it is gratifying and fun, but the thought of starting sometimes results in never getting going.  Those beginning ski lessons are often ugly and frustrating, though essential.

But the difference is that in life, when we can't stand the messy beginnings or don't follow through, we are usually only affecting ourselves. But as educational leaders, we are affecting our students' lives.

As educators, we all know that 100% of the students in our schools today leave our schools in transition in a few short years, even if we are there for much longer.  Our action or inaction, or lack of followthrough, or starting or stopping, or never starting, delays or alters the future of our students.

Being an educator is hard work. PLC work is hard work.  But the transformation of student learning along the way is amazing.  And every journey starts with a single, first step.  Remember, first steps may be messy, but you will succeed if you stay on the road.