A Letter from the Clarkston Superintendent

I really like this.  I hope others join him!

***

Superintendent's Call to Action: Part I of a Four Part Series

May 8, 2011

Fellow Citizens of Michigan:

I did everything that was requested of me, and so did you. The majority of our elected officials did not hear our voices and instead chose to unnecessarily reduce K-12 educational funding, which will negatively affect

our schools (the ones in our neighborhoods), our children (the ones with the first, middle, and last names who attend our neighborhood schools), and their teachers (the ones who teach our children in our neighborhood schools). I'm angry with and disappointed in those elected officials who chose to vote this way. It's left me wondering about the long-term agenda of these elected officials (first emergency financial managers, now cuts in funding, what's next?). Is this the beginning of the end of public education as we know it (neighborhood schools, children, and teachers)?

No! Not on my watch.

As the superintendent of the Clarkston Community Schools, I am not just the supervisor of employees, I am the "lead teacher and lead learner," a steward of the learning process as a whole, and an advocate for children and their learning. It is my responsibility--to the community, teachers, district employees, administrators, parents, and students--to ensure an excellent education for 

every child. Further, I serve all children in Michigan, regardless of the district in which they reside. I fully intend to fulfill my responsibility, especially now when many of our elected officials have seemingly abandoned us.

In response, I simply choose to say, "No. I will not idly accept this devaluing of public education. I'm going to act instead in accordance with my values." And, I believe that we must act collectively. Instead of 500+ school districts individually cutting budgets and multiple agencies (e.g., PTA, MASA, MASB, MASSP, MEMSPA, MASCD, Learning Forward Michigan, MEA, MAISA, and even non-educational entities) singularly developing and acting upon agendas, let's act as one voice for our children. Should you choose to join me, perhaps we could brand our collective cause, 

EducatioNO!: We're Not Going to Take It.

Here are my values:

Locally controlled schools; excellent teachers; engaged, globally connected students; and collaborative communities & parents.

What do you value?

Here are some points, representing a possible platform for 

EducatioNO!:

1. Every child deserves and shall receive an exceptional education with an excellent teacher, every minute of every day of every year.

2. Improving schools is not the function of government. Governments do not improve schools.

3. The governor, state representatives, state senators, and the Michigan Department of Education are not knowledge authorities on education.

4. Education is not political. Education is fundamental.

5. Local communities must control their school systems.

6. The government needs to get out of the education business. Instead, the government needs to act to make an excellent education a fundamental right of every child.

7. Excellent schools require consistent funding. Local schools require options for raising revenues.

8. Research and practice have informed us, and will continue to do so, as to the elements of an excellent education. Technology is one of the quintessential tools in this pursuit. We must use research and practice to inform our work, constantly.

9. Local school districts must work together, with other (e.g., collective bargaining, governmental, not-for-profit, higher education, early childhood education) entities to increase efficiency, decrease redundancy, and improve effectiveness.

10. One size does not fit all--children, families, teachers, schools, communities, people, alligators, onions, fruit trees, fingernails, political parties, transmissions. Schools require different options, depending on their needs.

As I travel across our school district observing kids, listening to teachers and other district employees, and conversing with parents and community members, I feel as though I have let them down. I asked them to remain hopeful. I promised that we would figure things out, no matter how bad they get. Our people work very hard; doing whatever they have to in service of each child (A substitute custodian came by just to introduce himself. He told me he's studying to become a teacher. He then went outside and directed traffic as parents dropped off their children--and he wished each one of them a great day--my state representative wasn't there to see it, but I was, and I won't forget it). Our educators, parents, and citizens were hopeful that their elected officials would notice and support them. When I told the teachers of the House's vote to cut funding, I could see the hurt in their eyes. Not one of them said, "What about me? I need more money. I need my retirement. I need my health care." Just as I would expect of people who love kids, they said, "What about my kids? What about our colleagues?"

You see, schooling is local. It's people. It's relationships. It's first, middle, and last names. It's personalities. It's laughter. It's school spirit. It's hope. It's service. It's collective and collaborative (come to one of our football games, attend a concert or a play, visit a talent show or school fair, or travel with our robotics team to a national competition--you'll need to squeeze yourself in because the seats are full of people who love their children, neighbors, and friends). It's fundamental.

So, I'm standing up. Who is with me? Please send me a note to let me know what you think. I will have more to say next week.

Sincerely,

Rod Rock, Ed.D.

Superintendent, Committed Servant of Children, American, Michigander, Teacher, Voter, Citizen, and Fervent Advocate of Local Education

Clarkston Community Schools

rdrock@clarkston.k12.mi.us

Claimer: I make no apologies for standing up for the people I serve. The stakes are high, the challenges great, and the possibilities profound.

Aran's Birthday, 2011

Aran turned 14 on Friday. He's firmly into teen-age now, and he's way taller than I am.  We had a small family celebration.  My in-laws came over with ice cream.  I made the aforementioned chocolate cookie cake, which Aran liked a lot, even though we couldn't put candles on it.  All of us played the Wii and the Xbox Kinect, too.  And there were presents.  Aran got two new video games and a board game and money, all of which he liked very much.

And now he's fourteen!

Aran at the Wheel

Aran's piano lesson takes place at a small community college. They had final exams last week, so when we arrived for his lesson Saturday, the place was deserted and the parking lot was empty.  After his lesson, I decided to try something.  See, by the time I took driver's training, I had already been driving.  Farm kids learn how to drive trucks and tractors by the time they can see over the dashboard and reach the pedals, so I was no stranger to the wheel.  This made it easier to officially learn to drive.  Aran is a city kid, though, and had no chance to try it.  He can't even ride a bike.  Could he handle a car?

I decided to find out.

I told him we were going to try him at driving a little.  He wasn't sure about this, which is why I didn't ask him--I told him.  He got behind the wheel with me in the passenger seat.  There were no other cars around for him to hit; only the curb presented a potential problem.  I told him to do exactly what I said.

"Don't touch the accelerator," I said.  "Just ease up on the brake and keep the wheel straight."

So naturally he hit the accelerator and twisted the wheel.  We jumped forward and angled for the curb.  I told him to stop the car, but he was half into panic and didn't know what to do, so I reached over and bodily pulled his right leg away from the accelerator.

"Stop!" I told him.  He hit the brakes and we jerked to a stop.

"Now do you understand why you have to do exactly what I tell you?" I said.

He nodded a little numbly.  "I don't want to do this," he said.

"We're going to do it anyway," I said, and got him to straighten the car out.  "Just go straight ahead.  No gas.  The car will move forward without it.  You'll be fine."

We went forward until we reached the curb, and Aran stopped.  Then I had him back straight up to the other side of the parking lot.  Then we went forward, then back, forward, back.  After several minutes of this, he became used to it and was more relaxed.

"Good," I told him.  "Now let's drive around the parking lot."

A little nervous again, he guided the car around the outer perimeter of the parking lot at about three miles per hour.  He grew more and more confident the more laps we ran, but I didn't let him touch the accelerator.  After about eight laps, I said it was time to stop.  He did perfectly well.

"How did you feel about driving?" I asked him.

"A little nervous," he admitted.  "But it was cool."

And he drove a car!

Pictures and Ukraine

I'd promised Sasha's family I'd send them more pictures of the boys.  This week I put some recent ones together and just now I spent an hour painstakingly transliterating the name and address for Sasha's sister Tatyana.  This involved finding a web site with the Ukrainian alphabet on it and copying, letter by letter, the appropriate characters into a Word file.  And oh yes--I had to track down the village name because the spelling I had for it wasn't quite right.  Thank heavens for Google Earth.  Oi!  I finally came up with:

Tatтиaнa Каминчук
Калинівка 11340
Україна

It took forbloody EVER.  But at least I have it now and can print up address labels at will.