Expectations

A few weeks ago, Canada's History Society invited me to speak about inclusive history at the Governor General's symposium (as part of the GG's history awards festivities this year in Winnipeg).  I was really surprised to be invited to speak because I am not a historian, I am not a history professor or researcher, and I am not specifically a history teacher.  

And then I found out I was going to be the only teacher on the panel.  Surprise turned to anxiety because not only would I be talking to the GG, historians, academics, museum curators, and authors, I was going to be speaking in front of this year's winners of the GG teacher awards. I realized that I could not speak on behalf of all teachers and especially the winners, but I could focus on the little things I do with my elementary classes. 

And then my wife (who was coming with me) showed me that our Governor General, Mary Simon, likes to have these kinds of talks in a circle. I confirmed this with Joanna Dawson, the amazing director of Canada's History, who was the person who invited me to speak at this symposium. No big table at the front? No slides? No Powerpoint? No visuals?  What?!  You just want me to talk? Nooooooo!  I don't like presenting at the best of times, but to do so without my crutches was unthinkable.  By this time though, I could not back out.  The plane tickets and hotel room were booked and paid for, and I had already committed to go. Winnipeg, ready or not (me), here we come.

The night before the symposium, there was a big gala for the history award winners and the amazing young winners of the school heritage fairs. Toward the end of the evening, I was introduced to another person who was going to be on the symposium panel. Despite giving off this aura of gravitas and greatness, she expressed how confused she was to be invited to speak. "Me too!" I said with great shared relief.  Then I made the mistake of asking her why she thought she was invited, and she said, "Well, I did start Black History Month in Canada." I was talking to Rosemary Sadlier who literally wrote the book on Black History in Canada. I think the only reason she was confused was because she had just been on a life-changing trip in Asia, then had been named to the NHL foundation, and was still living out of her suitcase.  We had a great chat and some laughs. For a powerhouse of a person, she was so warm and funny.  

The next day was the symposium.  The panel speakers arrived early at Convocation Hall at the University of Winnipeg.  Sure enough, the panel's chairs were in a circle with the chairs of the Governor General and the moderator (the charming Sophie Gaulin), at the top of the circle.  This year's award winners sat behind the GG and Sophie.  After Mary Simon arrived, the symposium began.  The panel was really engaging.  They talked from their perspectives about how Canada's history could be more inclusive and why learning history helps us lead a better life.   

For my part, I talked about how I try to use history to give my students a sense of identity and empathy.  For identity, we make personal timelines to see what are the important events we choose to remember, and how these events stack up to give us a sense of who was are and where we have come from.  For empathy, I talked about how I use the Scottish Story Wall technique to simulate different communities and replay histories in an immersive way.  Because I could not show pictures or slides, I brought samples of houses, belongings, and the people students had made during the Landscapes of Injustice (Japanese Canadian history of dispossession) lessons. Not having a table or a bulletin board, I had some of my fellow panel participants hold up my student samples as I showed how the avatars moved between different simulated sites. I explained that by having students make, do, think and feel, they get a broad beginning understanding to some fairly complex historical and human concepts.

The Governor General posted pictures on her X/Twitter site.  One of them was when I was presenting.  You can see us having our discussion in the round.  (It was actually a very personal, intimate way to have the discussion, even with an audience surrounding us.)

Me holding the green folder

I love this shot because if you zoom in, you can see the reactions of the audience:  

In this shot, there are the award-winning teachers, professors, historians, museum curators, CHS board members, and moderator Sophie (in the yellow shirt), and they are leaning in and smiling because they are touched by the work my young students can do.  There are similar reactions around the room (including my new friend Zachariah who went to school in my district who happened to be at the U of W researching internments).    

During our discussion, there were so many wonderful thoughts, initiatives and ideas in terms of "Fostering Understanding and Empathy through Inclusive History" (the title of the symposium).   I think Jonathan Lainey from the McCord Stewart Museum in Montreal summed it up best when he brought up the idea of "making space" for diverse voices, from across Canada, with different backgrounds and experiences.  

In this case, even 8 year-olds and their teacher.  


*******
Thank you to Her Excellency, Mary Simon, for hosting the symposium. 

Thank you to Canada's History Society, especially the wonderful Joanna Dawson (and her Dream Team of Brooke, Kylie, and Jean-Phillipe) for inviting me and making arrangements for me to be there.

Thanks to Carla Peck for recommending me.

It was nice to see my old friends, Jennifer, Nancy, and Connie, and meet my new friends, Rosemary, Melony, Sophie, Cathy, and Chantal.

Thank you to the incredibly friendly city of Winnipeg, especially the random lady who kindly offered for us to walk under her umbrella with her.  (You'd think Vancouverites would have an umbrella, but we just have our avocado-toast resistant yoga wear).  

And congratulations to the GG History award winners!  You are all doing amazing work that engages students and the Canadian people with history in new and exciting ways.  I was blown away with your work!

  

The end of lapdesks?

Goodbye to Lapdesks

As I started packing up my class for the summer, I got rid of my beloved lapdesks.  I know, that might surprise you if you have been following this blog or even if you have been in my classroom in the last couple of years.  I have spent so much time and energy coming up with the best design for the lapdesks, constructing the things, and then over the years fixing and maintaining them.  And my students used them every day.  Then why, you might ask, am I going to get rid of them? 

It is because my students for the last couple of years did not use them in ways that warrants keeping the lapdesks.  The original idea of the lapdesks (the physical symbol of  Taking your Learning With You Wherever You Go) was for students to use them as a writing surface on the risers where students would sit sometimes bleacher-style, or use them outside or use them as stand up easels.  Instead, my students used the lapdesks as place holders, plunking them down in the morning where they wanted to work that day (risers, tables, high chairs by the window counter, the rainbow table, etc.). 

That sounds fine, doesn't it?  It sounds like a good case for keeping the lapdesks.  But students also used them for storage, packing along anything they thought they needed: pencils, pencil boxes, books they were reading, exercise books, writing portfolios, etc. My lapdesks could not store all the things students thought they needed. Despite gravity-defying balancing and over-stuffing the little lapdesks, all sorts of students' belongings could be found scattered around the lapdesks, on the floor, etc.  The lapdesks had to go.

Resurrection of the Storage Bins

Besides, I had an alternative that would work better than the lapdesks for the way my students were using them.  Remember those boxes that were unopened after two school moves?  I had these two big tubs of dissembled personal storage bins.  Remember these?

I cobbled them together during COVID from yet again, left over Ikea shelf parts.  At the time, I needed them because students needed individual storage, and I could not use the plastic sliding bins because to store them, students would have to come together, and the bins took up too much space on the floor and on the work surfaces.  

Re-assembled and painted storage bin.

Now, like then, the bins can store notebooks on their edges, pencil boxes, writing tools, and loose items while taking up a small footprint.  No more balancing, no more flying markers every time someone bumped or picked up the lapdesk!  

The ironic thing about these storage bins was, even though they sat in two big space-hogging tubs in my classroom, I had to haul them back to my garage to re-assemble, fix and paint them.  Some of them were in rough shape after being used and then broken down to be stored and moved.  I added some parachute cord as a handle so they would be easier to tote.  I'll let you know how they go.

Epilogue

In case you are wondering how I disposed of the lapdesks, I gifted them to my students.  A few students didn't want them, not knowing how they would use them at home. Fair point. One student took 4.  His mom was okay with it. I will be curious to see what they did with them.  

Is coffee a necessity, a habit, or a ritual? Yes.

I have written about coffee several times on this blog.  I wrote about how I need outlets to have my espresso machine near the sink, and how I make coffee for my wife every morning, and how design matters in terms of taste, and when your coffee maker sits on your counter it has to keep up aesthetically, and I may have written how in some schools, making fresh coffee masks musty classroom odours. But I don't think I've ever written about the role of coffee in community building.

A long time ago, I went to visit my friend James's classroom and he showed me his coffee station.  James is a notorious coffee fanatic, and he even has this hilarious school photo of him, proudly holding a big coffee mug. James could pop out a quick espresso before school or at recess to satisfy his coffee habit, but he also said that the rest of the staff knew they were always welcome to come by for a shot, too.  

I thought that was really nice of him.  At the time, I was not drinking any coffee because of a sensitivity to caffeine, but I thought it would be a good way to break ice or break bread or chew the fat with my colleagues.  James must have picked up on this because a little while later, he gifted me with a little espresso machine like his.  

This is the actual coffee maker James gave me, 

in my classroom three schools back.

When I first started experimenting with a zen-like staff space in my school, it was all based on anything that had nothing to do with children, students, or education: low lighting, real art, subdued colours, calm music, furniture that was not made of plastic, and, of course, the espresso machine.  It was like an adult oasis, and I sometimes found my colleagues hanging out in there when I wasn't around.  The sound of jazz or the aroma of coffee or herbal tea could be found floating through the peaceful, childless space.  It was not a classroom or a staff room. This space was a sanctuary that built camaraderie and community.  

When I moved to schools that did not have any leftover spaces for such an adult zen den, I did feel a lack of connection with the rest of the staff.  I don't know if it was coincidence or not, but that was when I started delivering coffee shots to the staff on a semi-regular basis.  

Fast forward to this school year. Now, it is a Friday ritual that I drop off coffee shots to my co-workers. I bought a bunch of shot glasses, so I can deliver currently to about 12 people. For some reason, this coffee delivery has the biggest impact it has ever had on one of my staffs.  Other staffs have been grateful for the coffee, but this current staff really appreciates it. Here is how I know:

• Some thank me with tears in their eyes.
• Comments: 
• "I really needed this, this week."
• "I thought lovingly about this as I was driving in to work." 
• From one of the itinerant staff: "I thought of changing my day for this school to always be on Friday" 
• "I'm not going to lie, this is my favourite thing about this school."
• They will pause ANY meeting so I can distribute the shots.
• They gave me a t-shirt with "Today is Friday" proudly displayed on the chest.
• They wrote the coffee delivery into our school Action Plan as one of the ways to have joy at our school.  

Here are some funny things about the coffee delivery:

• I don't drink it, myself. I have to be careful with my caffeine intake. Caffeine really used to hype me up so much that I could not sleep for a couple of days.  Even now, it makes me perky at first, then slams me and makes me cranky later. I am Ted Lasso in the morning and Roy Kent in the afternoon.  
• I am kind of a shy, introverted guy.  At parties, I either latch on to one or two people or I don't say anything at all.  When I do presentations, I tend to load up Powerpoint slides and read off them.  At staff meetings, I tend not to speak unless I need something clarified.  The coffee delivery forces/allows/enables me to have a quick personal connection with everyone on staff.  
• I'm actually not sure how good the coffee tastes.  I used to get cheaper pre-ground coffee, now I grind yummy beans from a local roaster in the morning, but I still use my little Braun James gave me.  It smells awesome when I first make it, but I can't think it is as good by the time I chat with each person briefly and drop off the 12th one.
• I had to customize a plastic dollar store rack because the shot glasses would fall through the dishwasher racks.  
• I started giving individually wrapped biscuits or treats to people who didn't drink coffee, so everyone could be included on the Friday run. 
• It is not just the coffee shot, but getting the coffee personally delivered that people like.  I floated the idea of moving the espresso maker into the staff room so anyone could use it whenever they wanted it, but they told me how much of a treat it was for me to deliver it to them.  It was like a 30 second check in and made us feel connected by the ritual. Think of it as a mobile watering hole.  

What does all this mean?

That our school identity is based on coffee?  That our school letterhead and logo will be a coffee cup ring stain?  That one of our department heads should have barista responsibilities?  That our motto should be: "We won't sleep until we educate every child."

No, it is this: Forget team-building workshops, retreats and motivational speakers. Maybe $2 worth of coffee is the most effective (non-strategy) strategy in building community, strengthening connections, and quick and regular check-ins. 

Follow-up: Hailey's Waldorf School Design

In my last post, Design Students, I wrote about talking to university design students about things to consider when re-designing a warehouse space to be a school. I was thrilled when Marlis reached out to one of the students, Hailey Bell, and asked if it was okay for me to share some of her project on this blog so you could see the awesome work these students did. 

 

Here are some screenshots of Hailey's Waldorf-Steiner based school concept, which she titled, "Little Village."  The text in the screenshots and in italics are all Hailey's.

CONCEPT 

At the heart of the warm, organic Little Village school lies the weaving-inspired community areas weaving being a symbol of strength in unity which embodies the collaborative spirit and interconnectedness of its members. 

In contrast, the classrooms at Little Village are designed to be distinct, welcoming, & reminiscent of residential spaces. Each classroom offers a variety of zones tailored to support Waldorf's rhythmic daily schedule, empowering students take ownership of their environment and cultivate sense of responsibility. 

 ZONING 

• All classrooms radiate from central atrium landmark.  

• Community support spaces are multifunctional areas of the school during off-hours for community events & classes (which requires grouped and lockable staff zones off for security). 

• Create home-like classrooms for students along perimeter with best access to natural light & views. 

• Co-creation art opportunities for students throughout the school public circulation spaces with adjacent resting & observation points.

---

Marlis has done an excellent job of teaching, motivating, and inspiring her students with assignments and experiences like these.  Hailey's project is one example of the fine work Marlis is doing. 

Hailey sent me 5 of her slides from her condensed pages (as well as the file for her full project) and gave me permission to share as much I wanted. You can see the attention to detail, to texture, to tone, to flow, and to community that Waldorf-based schools emphasize in their learning spaces. On this post, I wanted to give readers a sense of the wonderful thought and design work Hailey put into this school concept. And not give too much away so some design firm can hire Hailey Bell to see the rest!

Design Students

Marlis asked me to talk to her design students about classroom design.  When she told me that she gave her students the project of designing a school space, it started to make more sense of why she wanted me to present to her students.  A little.  

Let's back up a bit.  Marlis is one of our dearest friends.  She was my wife's Maid of Honour and hosted our little wedding at her mom's cabin.  She was the mastermind when we renovated our kitchen.  I think it was then that I told her about the design experiments I was doing in my classroom.  

Fast forward 8 years. Marlis is a design instructor at a university and tasks her students with redesigning a school in an existing warehouse space. As an added layer of complexity, interest, and realism, each of the students was asked to design a school space with one of four specific schools in mind: Reggio Emilia, Montessori, Waldorf, and a school for the deaf.  

I still didn't understand how I could help her students when she asked me to talk her students about what I was doing, seeing as I teach in a regular public school. She explained that I offer a unique perspective as s classroom teacher who thinks about design and has been experimenting with spaces and furniture.  

So I put together a presentation that was mainly based on this blog.  The main themes were:

1. My design journey 

I talked about how I came to classroom design by accident.  

2. Classroom Design in service of self-regulation 

I talked about how my intention is for the space to say what I want it to say and to do what I want it to do, and not just make things look pretty.
            

3. Design as Learning

First, I talked about the different design challenges I have given my students in the past.  This was so that Marlis's students could see how design is part of the ADST curriculum even at younger grades.

Then I talked about how I gave my grade 2 and 3 students the same challenge that Marlis gave her students.  The difference was that  my young students had to fit our current school into the urban warehouse space that Marlis assigned to her students.  My teams had 3 design tasks: an individual classroom layout, a whole floor (showing how the classrooms were distributed, the hallways, bathrooms, etc.), and an indoor play space.  One of the biggest challenges for the warehouse space was there were pillars holding up the ceiling about every 5 metres.  My students used their creativity and some put in sliding doors to transform the spaces, or they mounted TV monitors on both sides of the pillars so everyone could see.  Below is an example of a whole floor plan.  

4. COVID considerations

Here, I talked about how the pandemic totally changed the way that my classroom looked and worked.  Instead of contact and togetherness, it was distance and building a safe community.   

5. Pros and Cons of my current building

My current site is the most beautiful school I've worked at, but there are always trade-offs.

6. Design Considerations of the 4 types of schools assigned

I've had a little exposure to each of the school models that Marlis assigned (Waldorf, Montessori, Reggio and school for the deaf). Based on my (limited) experience with these school, I tried to point out some things that her students might want to consider for each school.  

7. Some of my opinions of the assigned warehouse space

I loved the site that Marlis picked.  It was a big, open, repurposed warehouse and factory with lots of windows and high ceilings. Though there is no play or green space on site, there is a park across the street.  The wood pillars about every 5 metres were a challenge, but workable.  I also remarked about how the concrete floor and high ceilings could be uncomfortable and fatiguing based on the hardness and noise reflection (which I experienced when my classroom was a gym shared by 2 classes while we waited a few weeks for our portables to arrive).  

After I presented all this, Marlis facilitated a little dialogue between the students and me.  I could tell that they were already in the thick of their projects. I also had a chance to solicit some advice about some design issues in my school.  Though I was nervous and rushed through my presentation, I thought the overall experience of talking to Marlis's students was a good one.  

Epilogue

Later, Marlis sent me one of the designs that her student had put together for a Waldorf school.  It was excellent. It showed a detailed plan of how a Waldorf school could be envisioned in the assigned warehouse space. I though that the student designer had a real sense of the Waldorf philosophy and incorporated that into their design.  As a client, I would be happy that they “got” what Waldorf is trying to achieve.  I think they nailed the palette, tones, and feel: organic, natural, non-industrial, low tech,  etc.  The design put the atrium as the central hub of the school, around which the little village of learning spaces revolved.  I thought that would bring the community together literally and symbolically.  I was really impressed.  

 

Impact: "I don't remember anything you taught."

Reconnecting

Frank found me at lunch in the staff room, and he brought me a package that had come in the school mail.  I took it and looked at it.  It was a bulging envelope that looked like a child had written the address.  It wasn't ticking but I still went back to my classroom to open it. I'm glad I did.

Inside was an amazing card filled with heartfelt words from Stephanie, a student from over 20 years ago.  There was also a picture of Stephanie and her beautiful family.  The bulging part was this pre-inked stamp that had an impression of my face and my name on it.  I was struck by the time, thought, and work that went into all of this.  I was deeply moved and was glad I opened this in the privacy of my classroom at lunch.  

Luckily, Stephanie had included her email address.  When my students returned to the classroom, I told them about the card and the contents of the envelope.  I told them this could be them in 20 years; I think it was stunning for them to think they will grow up, get jobs, become mommies and daddies, and might still have the wherewithal to write to that weird teacher they had back then.  My grade 2/3 students started asking me questions, and instead of answering them myself, we wrote Stephanie a quick email, thanking her for the package, and asking her their questions.  Steph was great.  Even though she is a busy working parent, she answered the students' questions. 

She and I also sent emails back and forth.  She explained how she found me (I tend to move around, as you know) and that her son in kindergarten had written my name and address on the package .  She also updated me on her life and about students who were in my class the year I taught her.  She still keeps in touch with some of them!  Some were married with and without children. Their travels. There were people in property development, finance, tech, law, a chef, a pilot, etc.  Some are still close friends and were in each others' wedding parties.  It was interesting to see how everyone turned out.  

I remember that year well. It was kind of magical.  They were a really nice bunch of kids who were up for any idea I had. I was returning to elementary after teaching at middle school for a couple of years.  My first year at PWE could have been a disaster. As teachers know, a first year in any school can be rough as you figure out who's who in the zoo.  But this group came together very quickly.  It was like a family.  Sure, we got on each other's nerves and had some tension now and then, but like any family, we knew we were there for each other.  

And that was a straight grade 5 class. Here in my district, students go off to middle school in grade 6, so we just had one year together. No getting to know me as they went from kindergarten to grade 4. I had no history with them, no reputation. No, we had a very definite 10 months to be together.  (Less actually because I was off almost the entire month of February when I had a couple of dental appointments, I caught a bad flu, and then my daughter was born.  My daughter's hospital pictures have excellent pictures of me red-nosed and missing my front teeth.)  For a while, I kept in touch with that class through Facebook and we even had a couple of reunions. 

What we remember 

The part that I want to share with you here is the part when Stephanie wrote about what she remembers that I taught her: nothing.

She checked with her friend, Katbie, who was also in that class and she said the same: nothing.  "We honestly don't really remember what we learned..."

Interesting, I recently received an email from Jason who I taught a few years later than Stephanie but at the same school, and without prompting, he wrote, "To be honest, I have no idea what you taught us..."

Now, you might might think as a teacher, this would be horribly, horribly depressing to hear that my students remember nothing from what I taught them, but I think what my former students write is an important message for us teachers to hear: the part that stays with our students is not WHAT we teach them, but it is HOW THEY FELT while they were learning that has the lasting impact.  

Steph and Katbie did not remember the "big things" I taught. They do mentioned some of the one-off or time-filling activities that I put so little thought into. The rest of the quotes from above are: "We honestly don't really remember what we learned ... but we definitely remember all the fun we had when we here learning," and Jason's "To be honest, I have no idea what you taught us...but I recall clearly the way you treated us."

We teachers put so much time and energy into the details.  We sweat over the littlest things.  Of course we are paid to teach content.  Of course we are trained to teach skills and concepts.  But if we want long-term, lasting effects, these former students can testify that it is all about the feelings and relationships that we nurture within them that will have the most IMPACT.  Even at this late stage in my teaching, I am grateful for this reminder and lesson from my former students.   

Thank you, my friends.  

___________________________________________

Classroom Design postscript

When I taught Stephanie, Katbie, and Jason, I was not really thinking at the front of my mind about classroom design, but back then I was thinking about what conditions I needed to teach the way I wanted to teach. Steph sent me photos from the year I taught her, and it is funny: in none of them are the students all sitting in their desks, and in none of them am I standing at the front of the classroom.  I guess even then, furniture was a fluid thing.  Heck, back then I was more of a fluid thing.  I was starting to think back then: "What do I want my classroom to do?" and "What do I want my classroom to say?"

Here is one of the photos that Stephanie sent:

Apparently, I decided to hold a volleyball game in the classroom.  

What do I like here?

• I like how young I look and how black my hair is.
• I like seeing all those familiar faces.
• About design, Greg?  Oh, right.
• Desks are in different configurations for different kinds of purposes.  
• Some wood-natural elements.
• High ceiling with lots of light.
• The pull down map (remember those?) was really used as a pull down screen for my overhead projector (remember those?)
• No teacher desk in sight.
• Carpet was quiet and comfortable, and only being a few years old, did not smell. 
• The hanging vitruvian man-like (dudes in a circle) art.  I should do that again.  

Things I would change:

• Design?
• Visual distraction: take down the posters. They were bright, distracting, cluttery, and I never referred to them.  Just visual noise.  
• Yikes!  Is that a CHALK board?!
• Tall, open shelving.  See above about visual distraction.
• Desks? No, back then, it was really the only game in town.
• Maybe create different zones for different activities?  Tough with 28+ students in a late 90s classroom.  
• The suspenders.  They gave me shoulder pain, though they did keep my pants up when I did not have a paunch. Yet.

The New Building, Finally.

You might remember that last year I moved to a new school after swearing I'd never move to another new school.  You may remember that we were housed in a different school last year while we waited for this school to be finished.  You may remember that my wife broke her hip earlier that August.  The week before we opened in our new building, we unpacked and moved in.   

Going down the ramp to the lower section

The tour

Actually, let me back up a bit.  Back in June, on the actual last day of school (no kids), while we went out for breakfast to say goodbye to our excellent host school, Frank (CSE principal) arranged to have our boxes and materials moved to the new building.  While we didn't get to unpack and arrange our stuff, we did get to tour our new site for about an hour.  

We were very excited!

Because our school was still under construction, we could not stay all day.  To add to the excitement, we even met the new hires: new teachers and an education assistant.  

June 2023.  Still under construction.

The back side where one playground goes,
in front of the gym and the library/learning commons.

The "before" shot:
My teaching mountain
(Can you see the dismantled risers?)

Okay, now fast forward to August.  

I had one day to unpack my stuff to be reasonably set up for school.  No, this wasn't a district or a school or even a construction restriction of time; it was the limit I set on myself.  I wanted to be at home as much as possible to help my still-recuperating wife with care and driving to appointments.

Usually, I like to take at least a week, to get used to a space and chat with my co-workers, (How was your summer, nice new shirt/tan/tattoo/spouse, etc.), but this time, I sent an email telling people I only had a day to get ready and I was going to close my door and just get it done.  They were very understanding.

I cranked up the tunes, and chipped away at the pile of stuff I had, lovingly collected over 3 decades.  I went with a zone defense, dismantling the mountain a box a time, putting stuff in pre-determined zones so I would not have to retrace my steps.  

I amazed myself and got to a point that I had things looking reasonably organized and ready for my first group of students.  I must have also amazed one of the district guys who moved the stuff in because he walked by and told me he didn't think my classroom was going to be ready for September based on the volume of stuff he moved in.   

Here are some "after" pictures of how my classroom looked for the first week:

nice big windows with a generous counter

Frank ordered these versatile tables on wheels.
Some have whiteboard surface and
the tops all flip up for storage and for display.
(Notice: no risers.)

A decent amount of storage

The interiors of the rest of the school all have a warm feeling, using natural textures and light:

A cozy nook under the stairs
for reading or just relaxing, refreshing, or refocusing.

Well-lit hallways
with warm, wood panels

They built a school on the side of a mountain?

There are challenges to building a school on the side of a mountain.  The kindergarten students have to go down some stairs to get to their doors to their classes.  If you kick a soccer ball over the fence, you can kiss it goodbye.  It confuses they heck out of people when they come out of the parking lot to go to the office, and then they realize that the front of the school is on the top floor and the rest of the school is downstairs.  

But there are some huge upsides to having a school on a mountain:

1. We have a great trail that runs beside our school.

2. We have a cool playground that is incorporated into the side of the hill. Students could get dropped off above and take the slide down to their classrooms below.

3. The views.

Photo by Carrie V.
I've lived here for decades and I did not know such a view even existed.

(Carrie V is winning our photo contest)

Visitors who come to our school on days like these are always late because they can't pull themselves away from the parking lot.  

What is your new school like?

It was a long wait to get into our new building, but it was definitely worth the wait.  The daily buses are now distant memories.  Our first year core of teachers and staff was amazing and our new people are stunningly awesome.  The new building is a great facility in a breathtaking setting.  

What does my new school feel like?  It feels like home.  

home