My Goulash School

Sociologists prefer to call America a stew or a goulash as opposed to the commonly used moniker, “Melting Pot.” The point being, immigrants to the U.S. infuse our society with myriad aspects of their culture from food to music to dress rather than being subsumed by whatever “they” say it means to be American. How else we would we get kimchi tacos? Through only two short weeks I have come to view my own school as a sort of educational goulash. The make-up of our student body is rather eclectic in all the best ways.

At a glance, Highland Tech seems to consist of one part gifted, one part autistic, one part avant garde, one part punk, one part LGBT, and one part former home schooled. They all coalesce into an extraordinarily mutually supportive learning culture. Our “behavior system” is called CORE – Culture of Respect for Everyone, and although it is admittedly quite early in the school year, I have already witnessed multiple examples what I like to call “Upstander” behavior, students who don’t sit by and watch misbehavior or mistreatment, but actually step up and step in. Maybe it’s because the long-time students know no different and the newer students have come to us as a haven from traditional public school harassment and bullying. Whatever the case, I look forward to this dynamic playing out over the course of the full year. In addition to CORE being the established set of norms for student behavior (I never liked the use of “rules” in school. It implies restrictions rather than expectations), I have communicated my expectation of modeling to my staff. As a relatively young group of educators, they are, in some ways, as impressionable as my secondary students. I hope that as I lead by example in the building, so too will they do so in the classroom. The motto of Highland Tech is “Educating for Leadership; Educating for Life.” That goes double for the adults.

A side note on home schooled students. Highland Tech seems to have an unusual number of students who have transitioned from home schooling. Apparently there are significant financial incentives in Alaska that support home schooling. These dollars, coupled with the highly independent nature of Alaskans in general, has created a much higher home schooled population than I would imagine exists in most areas of the lower 48. Click here if you’re interested in learning more about home schooling in Alaska.

Cultural notes – I shall endeavor to conclude each dispatch with unique observations about Alaska/Anchorage that fall outside the realm of education. This week I’m noting the Seattle-like love of coffee here in Anchorage. In addition to a number of local roasters, there are dozens of tiny coffee “shacks.” That’s really the only way to describe them. They are little drive-through buildings often no bigger than a backyard shed usually situated in a store or business parking lot. My favorite is “Bikini Babes” even though their coffee is fairly ordinary… My other observation of the week has to do with the high number of Southern transplants to Alaska. Wherever I go I hear Southern lilts from one person or another. What drew them from the warmer climes of the contiguous? I’m guessing it’s the hunting, fishing, and once again, independent spirit of the Last Frontier. Again, one for the sociologists, not me.

“An Unexpected Journey”

“You know you’re in the largest state in the union when you’re anchored down in Anchorage.” — Michelle Shocked

I am in Alaska. I. Am. In. Alaska.

I say this to myself at least twice a day. Extrapolating the possible courses of my life, personal and professional, never included this potentiality. Southern Wisconsin, Colorado, perhaps northern Virginia once again — these seemed imaginable. Prior to leaving home the phrase I used most often with friends and family (is that now a “framily”) came from Bilbo Baggins, “I’m going on an adventure.” Thus far it has proven to be nothing less. I’ll address the professional in a minute, but from a personal standpoint of growth and exploration I have eaten salmon for the first time in my life (caught and prepared by one of my teachers and one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten), I’ve made my own sushi, and oh yes, driven 3600 miles across five states, five provinces, and four time zones to a new home and new job.

A new job, that’s what brought me here. I am now the principal of Highland Tech Charter School, a small 6th through 12th grade learning environment affiliated with Anchorage School District. The name is a bit of a misnomer as the focus of the school and charter is not on technology but rather on standards-based teaching and learning through a self-paced mastery approach. It is not a time-bound system, but rather truly dedicated to students mastering concepts before proceeding through the system. Mastery means just that, mastery. Through carefully constructed, standards-aligned rubrics, teachers are able to determine what students really know and are able to do. While in a traditional system students “pass” at as low as a 60% rate, true mastery means no lower than the equivalent of “B” work. This philosophy stems from an adherence to the guiding principles of RISC, the Re-Inventing Schools Coalition.

I don’t know how any educator could argue with that philosophy. A former colleague used to say that when given the choice between going back and teaching whatever concepts students didn’t fully master the first time and moving forward in order to cover the required scope and sequence the only acceptable course of action was to do both. That was/is the conundrum of the time-bound system of learning to which over 99% of schools adhere. The personal mastery concept holds it’s own challenges, however. Students entering into the system mid-stream might be taken aback when they are not automatically moved onto the next level of standard attainment. Chronological tenth graders may still be required to master the equivalent of eighth grade standards, for example.

My earliest impressions, though, are not colored with stigma. Yes, there are many mixed age classes at Highland Tech, but there is far more acceptance and collegiality than judgment. It’s only Week One, though.

As I’ve gotten settled I’ve made a few environmental observations as well as educational ones. The architecture here could use some sprucing up. A bevy of simple two story boxes and six unit strip malls populate much of the urban environment. Within these non-descript blocks of shops one might even spy a Blockbuster video store! All but extinct in the lower 48, which Alaskans also refer to as “outside,” I have spotted no less than four Blockbuster stores in the city. Perhaps because internet bandwidth is purchased by the amount of data one intends to use monthly, streaming has not reached the level of popularity it enjoys in the contiguous. Finally, I am taken aback by the amount of smoking I have observed here. Maybe the longer, darker winter necessitates weather-proof hobbies, but it seems such a dichotomy to see plumes of cigarette smoke rising against the backdrop of majestic, snow-capped peaks.

So I will observe, absorb, and report, ex-statetriate in a fascinating personal and professional Oz.