Consequently, the second inning sets itself up for disastrous returns for the pitcher who isn't ready for it. The second inning is a trap--the adrenaline has worn off, the crowd has settled in, and in a way, there may even be a false sense of security. Meanwhile, waiting with bats in their hands are, arguably, the 3 or 4 most powerful hitters in the opponent's line-up: the heart of the order.
The smart pitcher knows better. He understands the importance of pacing, both physically and emotionally. Most importantly, the pitcher who has the intention to complete a game understands the value of preparation--the value of proactively looking at an entire lineup's strengths and weaknesses prior to even walking out to the bullpen before the game.
In education, a quality leader also understands the value of being proactive. In our ever-changing world, it's always best to try to stay a step or two ahead of the game...
"There are 3 types of baseball players: those who make it happen, those who watch it happen, and those who wonder what happened."
-Tommy Lasorda
"Success always comes when preparation meets opportunity."
-Henry Hartman
Six years ago now, I was offered an opportunity that was simply too good to turn down. I was just finishing up my third full year of teaching at West Leyden High School, a place that felt like a home away from home for me. Having taught at neighboring Mannheim Middle School for the four years prior to my move into District 212, suffice it to say I knew the West Leyden community very well. I knew the streets and I knew the towns. I knew the families, and most importantly, I knew those kids. When I started at West, it was almost as if I had been there for years already. As a result, I will always look back on my time there and smile. One would be hard-pressed to find a situation in which a teacher had a better rapport with a student body than I did during those three years.
Toward the end of that third year, I was offered the chance to take on the role of Assistant Dean--at East Leyden. There was no doubt I was excited about the chance to take on a new challenge. I was just finishing up my Master's Degree in Educational Leadership, and the move seemed to be a no-brainer. Of course, the decision also meant I would have to leave a school that I had never really envisioned saying goodbye to. I'd have to start over in a new building with a new role, a new set of colleagues, new bosses, and most dauntingly, new students. More importantly, I would have to say goodbye to those kids that I had grown to know and care deeply for.
During that summer, I had the chance to work in the building during summer school. I spent an awful lot of time pondering what my new role would entail. What is a dean? What does a dean do? How is the relationship between a dean and a student body different from the relationships I had built as a full-time teacher with my students? There were many, many questions. The only way for me to find answers was to jump in with both feet.
I am more than willing to admit that that first year was a struggle. There were good days, and there were bad days, but I often found myself walking out of the building and wondering where I was going wrong. In my 8 previous years in education, I had never experienced the main issue that was plaguing me at that time--these kids just weren't responding to me. I can say now that there were days when you could have put up a cardboard cutout of Mr. Dykes in the dean's office, and the response from students would have been the same.
I was working just as hard--probably harder. I was asking for advice from colleagues. I was willing to put in as much extra time as possible. Where was I going wrong?
At one point, it finally dawned on me. In pitching terms, I had shown up to the ballpark 10 minutes before the game, thrown on a uniform, and attempted to pitch an entire game throwing as hard as I could. I was completely unprepared. These kids didn't know me. Therefore, they didn't trust me. I was a dean's Nuke Laloosh.
Being a dean isn't easy. We aren't often presented with flowers and chocolates at Christmas time. Let's face it--from time to time a dean takes on the persona of the Grim Reaper. You screw up, we hand you your penalty. That's the reality of the situation, and it's the job I signed up for. So how could I make the situation better, while still maintaining the integrity of the job?
It was time to be proactive, as opposed to reactive. I made the decision, then and there, that I wanted to do as much of my "work" with students as I possibly could BEFORE they happened to walk into our office with a disciplinary referral. I've made a concerted effort to be visible throughout the building to ALL students--not just the ones who come into our office. I enjoy being a part of our district's pep rallies and assemblies, as it gives me a chance to interact with students in a way that I may not have seen before. As a coach, I have the good fortune of getting to work with students on the baseball field. I track student grades and attendance and make a point to check in with them from time to time, just to let them know I'm watching.
I'm certainly not saying I have all the answers. In fact, I'm sure I have very few. Each individual situation calls for an individual plan of attack. But here is what we know for sure:
In our schools, today, student success is bred through the fostering of relationships. When one of our 1900 students walks through the doors of East Leyden each day, I want that young man or woman to know one thing about Mr. Dykes, whether we cross paths during his or her four years here or not:
Mr. Dykes cares.
Preparation, inevitably, leads to success.
