9th Inning-Trust Your Teammates

"If everyone is moving forward together, then success takes care of itself."

-Henry Ford

"It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it.  The hard...is what makes it great."

-Jimmy Dugan, A League of Their Own

In the span of the last week, I've had a lot of time to literally sit around and think about my playing days.  Sunday the 26th marked our annual North Park alumni game...an opportunity to reconnect with old teammates (who keep getting older) and compete against "new" alumni--those guys who recently graduated and are just starting to come to grips with the fact that their own careers are now relegated to "weekend warrior" status, like the rest of us.  As is inevitably the case when a bunch of athletes get together, stories fly like bottle rockets on the 4th of July.  

For us pitchers, the stories tend to center around the common theme of improbably high pitch counts and ridiculous feats of resiliency.  You see, most Division III baseball programs are unique in that while a preponderance of teams (especially in the CCIW) have some very talented players, the biggest difference between our rosters and those at the D-1 level is the glaring lack of depth.  Big league rosters regularly carry 13 pitchers nowadays--5 starters and 8 relievers.  For programs like Texas and LSU, it's not out of the ordinary to see 15 to 18 hurlers in uniform.  During my senior year at North Park, in contrast, we were able to make the postseason with essentially 5 arms.  That meant a lot of innings and a LOT of pitches for the five of us.

Some of my "bottle rockets" include the Saturday night I threw a nine inning complete game at Elmhurst, then came back the next afternoon to throw the final 1 2/3 innings of a win at Carthage.  Or the outing against Wheaton when I had to throw sidearm because I couldn't physically lift my elbow above my shoulder.  And the start at Millikin which required 176 pitches to complete.  

If you're a pitcher, you're wincing right now.  Needless to say, there weren't many complaints about pitchers being "babied" back then.

This past Thursday, it was time to pay the piper and finally have the shoulder surgery I've needed for close to a decade.  When the fog of the anesthesia finally wore off,  I was informed that the repairs to my labrum and rotator cuff would require me to spend 4-6 weeks in an immobilized sling, followed by 3-4 months of rehab.

I'd do it all over again if I could. Every pitch.   

I know that doesn't sound even the least bit logical.  But my guess is that, if you'e ever competed on a team of any kind, you get it.   Actually, there is a very logical explanation for putting oneself through such physical torment.  It goes something like this:

1.  This is my team.

2.  For my team to be successful, there must be a common goal.

3.  For that common goal to be reached, there must be individual sacrifice at times.

4.  It will not be easy, but I will do what I have to do because....

5.  This is my team.

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On Wednesday night, we were all treated to a sports fan's dream:  a Game 7.  For a baseball freak like myself, there's not much better than Game 7 of the World Series.  Throughout a 162-game season over the course of 6 months, 30 teams compete for one common goal...that weird trophy with all the little flags on it (you can find one in the lobby of US Cellular Field if you live in Chicago and want to know what one looks like).  Game 7 epitomizes the importance of the team concept.  No single individual statistic maters one bit.  It's an "all hands on deck" scenario, with grown men fighting to win like little boys playing dodgeball at recess.  After a marathon season of ups and downs, it all comes down to one nine-inning game.

If you watched the game, you were treated to a historic performance by a 25-year old pitcher by the name of Madison Bumgarner.  On just 2 days rest (starting pitchers usually have 4), Bumgarner was called on to come out of the bullpen in the 5th inning.  It was expected that he would be able to pitch one or two innings.  3 would be extreme.  This is a young man with a golden arm who likely has a $200 million payday in his future...just not yet.  Surely he wouldn't risk all of that financial security to throw a few more pitches...or would he?

Bumgarner threw FIVE shutout innings, leading his San Francisco Giants to a 3-2 victory and their third World Series Championship in five years.  

Following the game, the young lefty was asked about his incredible individual performance.  Notice the common theme behind his answers here.

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To be a successful pitcher, one must rely on--and trust--his teammates.  The pitcher's mound can be a lonely place.  Because it is literally an island in a sea of green, it is easy for pitchers to think they must do things alone.  Throughout the course of a game, pitch-by-pitch, inning-by-inning, challenges will present themselves.  Through this blog, I have tried to mirror some of the peaks and valleys we similarly face in the field of education.    We have good days, and we have bad days.  We experience triumphant moments that make us so proud we feel like our students could be our own children, and we are faced with horrifying and crippling losses that bring us to our knees.

The first 8 innings of a baseball game are a rugged terrain which is, in its own right, difficult to navigate and complete.  The 9th inning is a different animal altogether.  The pressure of securing those last three outs is, for some reason, exponentially higher than that of the first 24.  It is human nature for pitchers, or anyone for that matter, to take the adrenaline of a pressure packed situation and attempt to pitch (or try) harder, but not necessarily smarter.  There is a willingness to do something completely illogical:  take what has been a team effort for almost 90% of the game, and turn it into an individual battle.  And when that decision is made, whether consciously or subconsciously, failure is following closely behind.

A good pitcher knows that the ninth inning, probably more than any other, is when it is most crucial to trust his teammates.  The seven defenders behind him are all able, but more importantly willing, to make the plays behind him and secure the victory.  Of even greater significance is his relationship with his catcher.  A pitcher-catcher relationship must have total and complete trust, as these battery mates need to be in sync when it comes to each and every pitch that is called.  In addition, a winning pitcher knows that, at times, he must give up the ball to his bullpen, and trust that they will be able to finish the job that he has started.  

In the 9th inning, it's time to depend on the team.

In many ways, a school is quite similar to a baseball team. 

In a successful school, all stakeholders in the building understand that they have a particular role or responsibility that they must perform adequately, but positive performance is more a matter of pride and care for the good of the building as a whole than a score on an evaluation or a test.  Students feel like their school is a community, or a "home away from home", with adults and peers who care for their well being and can be trusted to do what is in their best interests.  Teachers are excited to share their expertise with eager learners, and administrators lead through example and make decisions carefully, with student interests being the driving force behind all of it.  It is a group of individuals most interested in the well being of the whole, as opposed to their own self interests.

In my life, I've been blessed to have some amazing teammates, both on and off the field, who have been willing to work with me toward a common goal.  From my wife (who now has to take care of me along with our two kids, with #3 coming this spring) to my parents, I've had family members who understand the importance of working together.  I've worked with both excellent team players as colleagues, as well as great teammates on the baseball field.  Not coincidentally, some of those same teammates I first met on the field are now outstanding educators today.  While we've grown older, fatter, and a little more grey, the concept remains the same:  this is my team.

Some of you may think that the "successful school" described above is nothing more than a pipe dream full of ideals that could never completely come to fruition.  I disagree.  Everywhere around us in American schools today, the right players are in place.  They simply need to come to an understanding of what that common goal is, and begin moving in the right direction together. 

Sure, it might be hard.  It will require individual sacrifice.  But as Jimmy Dugan said, "The hard...is what makes it great."

8th Inning-Go "All In"

"Challenges are what make life interesting and overcoming them is what makes life meaningful."

Joshua J. Marine

"To all you kids out there, just remember one thing from today.  There are no shortcuts to success.  Hard work, dedication, commitment--stay true to who you are."

-Frank Thomas (conclusion of HOF induction speech, 7/27/14)

How often do we have the chance to interact with true greatness?

In addition to coaching high school baseball for 15 years, I spent a few years running youth baseball camps for the Chicago White Sox.  Aside from the usual hitting, fielding, and throwing instruction, I also tried to instill in these young players the importance of hard work and, of even greater consequence, a true love for the game.

I would frequently refer to the "baseball pyramid", an analogy I borrowed from a coach of mine, to illustrate how crucial it was to work to get better.  Essentially the message was that, as the years go on, it becomes more and more difficult to continue playing the game.  Every baseball player wants to play until someone tells him he can't any more--the only question is when that conversation takes place.


The following numbers, from recent research, best represent this point:

In the average baseball season:

• 2.2 million boys (ages 11-12) play little league baseball
• 455,000 (20%) of those 2.2 million make their high school freshman team
• 130,100 (6%) play on their high school varsity team
• 5,700 (0.2%) play in an NCAA program as seniors
• 600 (0.02%) are drafted by a major league organization and play in the minor leagues
• around 50 (0.002%) make the major leagues

And that's just making it there...once a player is a major leaguer, what are the odds that he makes it to the top of the mountain---the Hall of Fame?

There are 211 players enshrined in Cooperstown.  It's estimated that more than 18,000 different players have played in the Major Leagues at some point.  This is a rough estimate, but the percentage chance that a boy grows up and becomes a Hall of Famer is:

0.0000009%

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In January, the Baseball Hall of Fame announced that Frank Thomas, a player I had grown up watching and cheering for, had been elected to become a member of this elite group, making it in on the first ballot.  Immediately, plans were set in motion to get to Cooperstown for the induction ceremony in July.  My father and I hopped in the car, drove the 12 hours to central New York, and were fortunate enough to be among the 50,000 baseball fans in attendance for the festivities that weekend.

Cooperstown is a mythical place.  The town itself has a population of less than 2000 people, but for one weekend every year, it is hopping with baseball fever.  Fans from all over the world descend upon this baseball mecca to (almost) literally eat, sleep, and drink baseball.  Over the course of our 3-day stay, we had the chance to talk baseball with a myriad of fans, media members, and baseball immortals themselves.  It was, at times, almost hard to believe.  For those of you who know me and my love for the game, it was the closest place to heaven I can imagine.

243-game winner Juan Marichal

Triple Crown winner Frank Robinson

Fergie Jenkins

My idol growing up-Carlton Fisk

The weekend culminated on Sunday at the induction ceremony itself.  Thomas gave an extremely emotional speech filled with raw joy, relief, and satisfaction.  Throughout the entirety of his 16-minute address, "The Big Hurt" was either in tears, or close to it.  This was a man who had clearly laid it all on the field as a competitor, both physically and emotionally--and it was clear that this moment was one he had been dreaming of since he, himself, had been a young boy.

Unfortunately, we did have to leave and head back to Chicago.  During the 12 hours I was driving back west, I had a chance to reflect upon the trip itself and, of more importance, what I would take away from it.  In the front of my mind was the fact that I am currently writing a blog relating to  lessons I've learned from baseball; clearly, there must be something I could use from this once-in-a-lifetime journey.

I realized that the most striking part of the weekend was the volume of greatness in our presence in one small town.  Having the chance to talk pitching with some of the greatest who have ever taken the mound was phenomenal in its own right.  I began wondering about what all of these elite athletes had in common, which took me back to Thomas's emotional speech on Sunday.

What I concluded was that each and every one of them had gone "all in".  They had all bet on themselves at an early age, and determined that they were going to be great at what they did--no matter what.  For some, this meant overcoming racial prejudices and bigotry.  For others, there were financial hardships at home.  For a few, there was a lack of family guidance.  The issues that these players dealt with at a young age sounded awfully familiar to a lot of the students we all come across on a daily basis.

That was the take-away.

How often do we truly bet on ourselves and go all in?  Sure, it sounds cliche, but I know there are many times where I have simply settled for "getting the job done", instead of pushing myself to do it differently, and better, than anyone else has conceived.

Along those lines, what message are we then giving to our students?  Are we challenging them to be not just good, but great?  Are we allowing them to accept their shortfalls and obstacles as stumbling blocks, or are we reminding them of the endless achievements which lie in front of them?  Are we encouraging our students to go all in?

This trip couldn't have come at a better time.  As I write this, I'm sitting in a new office, at a new school, in a new position, and meeting new students who are peeking their heads in to see who the new dean is.  On Tuesday, a new journey begins for me here at Niles West...one which I will go "all in" on, and hope to bring my students along with me.

Forget the odds for once.  Just be great.

7th Inning-Give Back

"We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give".

-Winston Churchill

''Any time you have an opportunity to make a difference in this world and you don't, then you are wasting your time on Earth.''

-Roberto Clemente

It's unfortunate, but there are very few young baseball players today who even know who the man pictured above is, or what makes his story so compelling.  There are many, many reasons why Roberto Clemente should be revered as one of the most important men to ever don a major league uniform.

Let's start with the fact that he was an absolute star.  In 18 seasons with the Pittsburgh Pirates, Clemente was an all-star 15 times.  During that time, he also won the National League batting title four times, along with an astonishing 12 gold gloves.

Now let's move on to his groundbreaking efforts as a Latino player.  Clemente, a native Puerto Rican, was the first Latino player in Major Leauge Baseball to win the World Series as a starter (1960), win the National Leauge MVP award (1966), and win the World Series MVP award (1971).  In addition to all of this, he served his country as a member of the United States Marine Corps Reserve from 1958-1959.

Clemente recorded his 3,000th career hit on September 30, 1972.  His career, and his life, would end soon thereafter.

More than any of the above accomplishments on the field, Roberto Clemente ought to be remembered for his service to those less fortunate.  His career finished with exactly 3,000 hits because on December 23, 1972, the plane which was carrying him to Nicaragua crashed into the Carribean Sea.  In just another of his many philanthropic efforts, Clemente was on his way to help the victims of a massive earthquake that had taken place there.  When he learned that the first few shipments of relief supplies had been intercepted by the corrupt Somoza government, Clemente took it upon himself to personally fly down to the ravaged community and ensure that help was delivered where it was needed.  He literally gave his life to those less fortunate.

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As we strive to develop a more well-rounded student who is prepared to function appropriately in a global workplace, it's important that we, as educators, understand the often underestimated value of community service and service learning in our schools.  Research suggests that service learning isn't just about having an entire school "do something good" for the community to force students into a public relations win for a school district.  The following are just some of the positive effects that a well-structured community service program can provide for a school and its students:

• less stress, more life satisfaction
• that "feel good feeling"
• improved mental health
• development of communication skills
• increased opportunities for at-risk students
• political and civic awareness
• exposure to diversity

In addition, a recent survey of students who participated in community service efforts showed that 82% generally felt more positive feelings about attending school, and another 64% felt that a service learning program would have a large effect on lowering the drop-out rate among high school students.

There are a myriad of reasons for doing so, but the message is clear:  it's time to give back.

Over the last nine years, I've been fortunate to work in a district that whole-heartedly embraces the concept of community service.  Recently, through the efforts of Community Outreach Coordinator Dominic Manola, Leyden students have been exposed to a variety of service projects at every point of the school year, and beyond.

One such project, our St. Baldrick's campaign, is near and dear to my heart.  Seven years ago, Brent Dempsey and myself decided to get West Leyden involved with this charity, whose mission is simple:  shave your head in solidarity with children who are undergoing cancer treatments, and raise money to fund Pediatric Cancer research.

Over the past seven years, the fundraiser has grown to become a part of the culture of both of our buildings .  Hundreds of students and teachers (both male and female) have participated by having their heads shaved during our annual Safe Celebration Week.  During that time, the Leyden community has raised close to $100,000 for Pediatric Cancer research, a fundraising goal we set at the beginning of this year's campaign.  As a result of our meeting that goal, I will be getting the following tattoo next week:

Now, there are obvious positive impacts to the outside world from such endeavors.  Raising that kind of money for a very worthwhile cause is great.  Seeing students come together as a student body for a common cause melts my heart.  But there's more to it than that.  There are dozens of stories that come out of service projects throughout schools in America which back up the research cited earlier.  Here are just a few:

• A few years ago, as I sat in the student cafeteria asking students to donate their loose change to the cause, a young lady in a wheelchair approached me with her aide.  This girl had been struggling with an undiagnosed, life-threatening disease throughout her entire time at East Leyden, and had seen her health decline steadily over the years.  As the lunch period ended and the students began to exit, she pulled a $100 bill out of her purse and handed it to me.  Her words: "My grandma gave me $100 for my birthday, and told me I could do whatever I wanted with it.  Over the years, I have spent many days and nights in hospitals and places like the Ronald McDonald House.  If it hadn't been for people helping my family out, we would have never been able to get the treatments I needed.  I want to give back.  I want my $100 to go to this cause."

• Last year, a female student approached me about having her head shaved.  After several conversations about the implications behind a 16-year-old girl agreeing to shave her head, she informed me about some very personal reasons behind her decision to do so.  This year, she did it...again.  This young lady raised over $1000 for Pediatric Cancer research.

• A young man who may have spent as much time in the dean's office as I have over the past four years walked in one day and said he wanted to participate in St. Baldrick's.  For him, this meant not only shaving his head, but cutting off the 10-inch pony tail he had been growing for three years.   He was able to raise hundreds of dollars for St. Baldrick's, and even mailed the pony tail in to Pantene Beautiful Lengths, a charity which uses human hair to make wigs for cancer patients.

• Just last week, a student emailed our principal with a video link about a little boy who was able to live out a life-long dream through the help of the WWE.  He suggested that this video could be used as a promo for next year's St. Baldrick's event.  Here's that video (have some tissue handy):

I hope you don't view this as shameless self-promotion.  There's a point here.  Every one of the students mentioned in the bullet points above, no matter how different and unique their experiences, had one thing in common:  by giving back, they were able to feel as though they, themselves, were a part of something.

In my seven years of involvement with St. Baldrick's, that's one factor I've noticed to be a common trend.  Our volunteer shavees tend not to be our star athletes, AP students, and members of the ultra-involved student body.  To the contrary, many of the students who agree to take part in this are those who, for the most part, have never quite been able to find a niche in their high school experiences.  Yet the looks on their faces on the night of the head-shaving event clearly shows a sense of accomplishment, pride, and belonging.

I have no doubt that, when asked to reflect back on their high school experiences 20 years from now, shaving their heads for a greater cause will be right on the tip of their tongues.

By encouraging students to give back, we are, in fact, giving them a gift in disguise.

 

6th Inning-Be Grateful

"If you invest time in them, these kids will run through a wall for you."

-Me, to a new teacher in my department 7 years ago

I began working in this community in 2001--13 years ago.  I accepted a position teaching 7th and 8th grade social studies at Mannheim Middle School.  I've joked with quite a few people since then that, upon walking into the District 83 administrative building at the corner of Mannheim and Grand for my first interview, the only thing I knew about Mannheim was that it was a road.

13 years later, as I look back on my time working in this community, I'm overwhelmed with fond memories, gratitude, and relationships that will stay with me for a lifetime.

I'm dedicating this post to saying a great big 

THANK YOU!

to the Leyden community.  I can't begin to single out every person who has positively impacted my life during that time, but I hope that as you read this, you know each and every one of you owns a piece of my thanks.

I'm excited to announce that, beginning July 1, I am moving to Niles West High School as a full-time Dean of Students.  Whenever I'm asked why this is the move I want to make in my career, the answer is simple:  I feel that being a dean gives me the greatest opportunity to impact the greatest number of students' lives...and that's really what it's all about.

I've been fortunate to work for, work with, and learn from some excellent leaders in the field of education.  Thank you to David Katzin, who first pushed me to pursue a degree in educational leadership; and to one of the brightest and most inspiring people in our field today, and one who clearly makes every decision with the best interests of students in mind--Jason Markey.  Thank you to Mike Grosch and Dennis Byrne for teaching me the ropes in the deans' office, and to Brian McAdow and Wil Wagner for their willingness to take a chance and bring me over to West Leyden from Mannheim 9 years ago. Thank you to Rob Hamann and Gary Wolf (the Hall of Famer, that is) for putting up with my obsessive behaviors when it comes to baseball. And thanks to Brent Dempsey and Dominic Manola, two of the most passionate people I have ever had the chance to come across, and who I'm lucky to count as dear friends.

Teachers are a rare breed--there's no mistaking that.  To dedicate one's life to improving the welfare of the young people in a community takes a great deal of passion and commitment.  Not surprisingly, many of the people I've been so lucky to work with at Mannheim and Leyden are still some of my closest friends today.  Teachers learn quickly that they are in the bunker together, and learn to rely on one another for support, ideas, and a ton of laughs.  Thank you to all of you who I've had the chance to share these experiences with.

"Leyden Pride" has become a fixture in the lexicon around these parts in the last two years, but it's been in existence for a long, long time--certainly far before the onset of social media.  The Leyden community has some deep, deep roots, and its inhabitants are certainly proud to be from Franklin Park, Schiller Park, Northlake, River Grove, and Rosemont.  (I'm a "Northlakian" through marriage, by the way.  My wife is a '96 West Leyden grad...I picked her up for our first blind date from her apartment in Grand Towers over 10 years ago). People simply don't leave--I'm amazed by the number of our students whose parents, aunts, uncles, and even grandparents once roamed the same halls they do today.  Thank you to the Leyden community for your commitment to providing all you can to the young people who have access to an outstanding education in our schools.

Finally, and most importantly, thank you to our students.  Since accepting this position at Niles West, I've been reflecting back on the memories I've shared with so many young people over these last thirteen years.  I remember the good times:  the dances and parties at Mannheim, the head-shaving bet over the Constitution test results, the 7th grade conference basketball championship (which had as little to do with coaching as you might imagine).  And of course there's all of the St. Baldrick's events, the regional and conference titles in baseball, the pep assemblies, and the countless individual triumphs that have taken place in the classroom on a daily basis.  I also think back to those times where we've had to truly pull together and support one another.  Those memories will always stay with me.

The connections I've made with my students have, in many cases, turned into valued friendships.  My first class of 8th graders at Mannheim 13 years ago contains a bright, dedicated teacher in our Life program at West.  A hungry young shortstop, who used to stick around and ask me to hit him extra ground balls and throw him extra BP until it was dark, is now my assistant coach.  Several of my former students and players are now fully established in exciting careers, and I'm blessed to be able to hear their stories and share in their triumphs.

I've been to their quinceaneras and graduation parties.  I've met some of their children, and a few of them have met mine.  And, tragically, I've attended a few wakes and funerals along the way.

In the end, I feel like many of these students are an extended part of my family.  

In conclusion, I'm truly lucky to have had the chance to work in such a hard-working, proud, and dedicated community.  

I'm happy you were willing to run through a wall for me.

You all personify #leydenpride.

Mr. Dykes

5th Inning-Stay Committed

On May 30, 1982, Cal Ripken, Jr. trotted out to his position at shortstop at Memorial Stadium in Baltimore, Maryland.  This signified day one of what many believe is a truly unbreakable record--an example of commitment and dedication that is mind-boggling to those of us who have competed in any sport, let alone baseball.

Ripken started that game, and every one for the remainder of the 1982 season.  He did the same for the next 16 years, playing in an amazing 2,632 consecutive games at the major league level.  No matter how poorly he may have played the night before, or what physical ailment he may have been dealing with, Ripken always took the field the next day.  No matter what personal issues he may have been struggling with or pressures he may have been enduring, #8 was a fixture in the Orioles lineup.

As educators, every day we walk into our respective buildings can be considered a new game.  Just as members of a baseball team each have their own roles they are expected to fulfill (i.e. pitcher, catcher, outfielder, infielder), we all have specific duties that have been assigned to us (math teacher, guidance counselor, assistant principal).  

As we go through the day-to-day business of our jobs, it can be easy to stray from our one purpose as educators.  Outside influences, personal issues, politics, and numerous other distractors can take us away from our real reason for being here.

It's important that we remember to stay committed.

"My approach to every game was to try to erase the games that were before, and try to focus on the game at hand."

-Cal Ripken, Jr.

Baseball Hall of Famer

Baseball games are usually won or lost in what we refer to as the "middle innings" (innings 3-6).  The reason for this is simple:  basic human nature causes every one of us to lose focus for a period of time, no matter what the task at hand may be.  During a 9-inning game, most players have no problem "getting up" for the first couple of innings, allowing the excitement of a fresh start to motivate them.  Likewise, the last three inning of a game tend to be filled with high drama--pinch hitters, pitching changes, do-or-die plays that seem to be the difference in the final outcome.  

However, it's those middle innings that truly tend to make the difference.  As many players begin to come down from the adrenaline rush of the first inning, and have not yet begun to get themselves psyched up for the theater of the ninth inning, it's common for the focus and commitment to wane.  For that reason, those teams who are able to stay committed to the goal (for players, that's to WIN) during those middle innings usually find themselves on top when that final 27th out is recorded.

If we were to look at the average school year through the metaphor of a baseball game, February 13 would fall right into the middle innings.  Think about it:  when school begins in August, we're all excited.  There are new students to meet, new colleagues to collaborate with, and sometimes new changes to the physical layout of the buildings we work in.  In some cases, we might even be starting a brand new job, with a new set of expectations and responsibilities.  The adrenaline rush of the first few weeks of school is a real, tangible thing.

The end of the school year has a similar rush, though it is brought about by different factors.  For a high school teacher, the end of the year means preparing students for final exams, enjoying the festivities that go along with prom and end of the year field trips, nice weather, and the pinnacle of why we do what we do--graduation.

Now, February, on the other hand....ugh.

No one really wants to come out and say this, but I'll be honest:  it's a grind.  This year especially, as we deal with polar vortex #4 and the groundhog laughing at us, it's been tough to stay as motivated as most of us would like to be.

Every day throughout the halls, offices, and staff cafeterias of America, conversations are taking place between teachers revolving around Common Core standards, TRS, Illinois pension reform, course enrollments, RIFs, evaluations, and interviews.   Sometimes these conversations are positive ones, though they often tend to sway toward the negative end of the spectrum.  They are factors that take us away from the reason we're really here.

That's why we have to stay committed to one goal....it's the reason we chose this profession, and it's really the reason we're all here today:

Do what's best for the kids.

Ripken's quote at the top of the page isn't entirely accurate for us, as educators.  We can't completely "erase the games before".  However, we can certainly make every attempt to "try to focus on the game at hand".  

Every day brings a new challenge.  That's what's great about what we do.  We are interacting with dozens, and sometimes even hundreds, of young people on a daily basis.  They come to us with their own fears, dreams, and pressures.  While we may not feel like January 27, or February 12, or April 9 will be a monumental day in one of our students' lives, it just might turn out to be that way.  

And you or I as educators may be the very reason why any given day may be one of the most important to any given student.

A few years back, around this time of year, I was having a "middle innings" type of day.  I think it was a Tuesday (Tuesdays are like the vanilla ice cream of days), probably sometime in late January.  There was some snow on the ground.  The temperature was hovering around 20 degrees.  When I walked into school that day, it was dark, and it was going to be dark when I left again later that evening.  I had recently been turned down for a job I had applied for, and about the only thing I was looking forward to was "getting through" the day and getting home to my family.  And it was only 10:00 in the morning.

Just like every other day in the dean's office, I had a fairly steady stream of students coming in and out.  Their transgressions were nothing out of the ordinary, and the conversations that were taking place were standard-issue.  The day had a "hamster on a wheel" feel to it.  It was in the midst of one of these "usual" conversations that I happened to notice something slightly unusual.  Upon giving a student a rather benign penalty, just a tad more than a slap on the wrist, I noticed him begin to tear up.  I started digging a little more, and the tears turned into extreme emotional anguish.

When I finished dealing with this student much later that day, I had come to find that he had experienced an unthinkable amount of tragedy in a week's time, losing two separate family members suddenly.  His entire life's outlook had completely been altered, his immediate and long-term goals sidetracked, and his life turned upside down.

For this student, on this day, that conversation may have been a safety net that saved him from even greater disaster.

The moral of the story is that, in the end, we have incredibly important jobs.  We impact dozens, or even hundreds of lives on a daily basis---there's just no way to predict when that impact will happen.  We are entrusted with the most valuable gift of all, and it cannot be taken lightly.

It's important for all of us, no matter our role on this "team", to stay committed to that one paramount goal every day:

Do what's best for the kids.

4th Inning--Be Flexible

Yoga.  Pilates.  Cross Fit.  Spinning.  Core.

15 years ago, when I was finishing up my collegiate playing days, I had heard of (I think) one of these.  Yoga, as far as I was concerned, was a meditation technique prevalent in Eastern culture.  The rest of those words, well, they meant absolutely nothing to me.  For all I knew, they were methods used to increase productivity in industry.

What do they mean to me today?  Take a glance at any good high school, college, or even professional baseball conditioning program, and you will find one or more of these activities to be a prominent part of what today's baseball players are participating in to develop strength, balance, and flexibility.

As times change, and our students (as well as the expectations around them) change with them, we need to learn to be flexible---as much now as any other time in our profession's existence.

"15 minutes to warm up? Does a lion warm up when he's hungry? 'Uh oh, here comes an antelope. Better warm up.' No! He just goes out there and eats the sucker."

-Jack Lalanne, "Godfather of Fitness", 1954

Click HERE to view a video of the pre-game warm up routine of Trevor Bauer, pitcher for the Cleveland Indians, 2013.

Today's conditioning routines are a far cry from the "old school" workout programs of yesterday.  In 1999, my senior year at North Park, my pitchers' workout routine consisted of three things.  Lift weights in the off season.  Stretch before practice.  The rest of the time?  Run.  Run during batting practice (pitchers weren't really allowed near the bat rack).  Run before games.  Run after the games you pitch.  Run the day after you pitch.  Run the day before you pitch.

And that was about it.  Times sure have changed. And (thankfully, for those pitchers who didn't sign up for the whole cross country routine), the game's approach has changed too.
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3rd inning-Hustle!

One of the things that makes baseball such a great game is that it is inherently democratic--that might be the main reason it has always been considered America's national pastime. 

It is a game that can be played by all--those from all races and ethnicities, from all socio-economic backgrounds, and all manner of physical shapes and sizes.  From John Cangelosi to John Kruk, Rod Beck to Randy Johnson, and everyone in between, it is a game that requires, first and foremost, for its aspiring players to love what they do (and work hard at it)  in order to have any inkling whatsoever of becoming successful.

The best players on the field are not always the ones who have been blessed with the most talent.  Often times, the players who have the most enduring success in this great game do have one common trait--they all hustle.  

"I'd walk through hell in a gasoline suit to play baseball."

-Pete Rose

"There is no substitute for hard work."
-Thomas Edison

Pete Rose--a.k.a "Charlie Hustle"--is MLB's all-time hit leader.

Roll up your sleeves.  Use a little elbow grease. Put your nose to the grindstone.  Dig in your heels.  Cinch it up and hunker down.

Whatever cliche you prefer, they all refer to a quality that is a must for leaders in the field of education:  the desire to to the dirty work.

When was the last time you (the reader) took the time to ask one of your students what an average day is like for them?  It's easy for us, as their teachers, to observe a student's behavior in terms of our daily interaction with them.  Maybe we see Jenny every day during 9th period Law.  Or we coach Sam every day in the spring on the baseball field.  Or we work with Allison 2 or 3 times a week in the dean's office.  Do we consider what's happening in the lives of our students during the 23 hours we don't see them?

Think back for a minute---being a high school student isn't as easy as we are sometimes guilty of telling our students it is.  The last time I tried to sit in one of those desks, I needed a can of WD-40 to get out.  We ask our students to do that 8 or 9 times a day, 180 days a year--and they had better PAY ATTENTION for every one of those 50 minutes they are in our presence!  We give them a 5-minute passing period (or less), during which they are encouraged to use the facilities, hydrate, go to their lockers, and discuss any pending issues with their teachers...and they had better not be late to their next class.  When the school day is over, they're encouraged to get involved.  Many of them do.  They're in student council and Key Club.  They volunteer in soup kitchens and participate in Wrestling Boosters.  They sing in the choir and start as the 2-guard on the basketball team.

For many students, it doesn't end there.  There are jobs, often times that are required to help their families pay the bills.  There are younger siblings to babysit.  There are older relatives that require care.  There are the demands to fill out college applications and scholarship proposals in the hopes of one day having the honor of owing  over $100,000 in student loans.

Oh, and there's homework, too.

Please don't mistake the point of my message here.  I'm not going to be at the front of the line lighting candles for the poor, unfortunate high school students of America.  All I'm saying is that if we are demanding this type of dedication from our students, we owe it to them and to ourselves to put forth the same type of effort.

We need to hustle for our students.

Hustle can take on a lot of forms.  It can mean many different things to many different professionals in our field, depending on the manner in which we interact with students on a daily basis.

It might mean staying after practice for 45 minutes 3 times a week to hit groundballs to that shortstop's backhand side.  It could be taking the time to stop a student in the hall and tell her that you've noticed her grades improving, and calling home to notify her parents about her success.  Maybe it's as simple as taking a couple of minutes to respond to that email from a young man who has a question about an assignment he's working on...right as your head is about to hit the pillow.

As a baseball coach, on the first day of tryouts, I deliver this message to all of the young men who are hopeful of one day donning the blue and gold "L" on their hats:

I have five days to find out if you can play baseball.  It's the end of February, and our fields are covered with a foot of snow.  In five days, I have to do whatever I can to determine if you can hit, bunt, run the bases, field ground balls, throw, catch a fly ball, hit the cut-off man, hit the outside corner with a 3-2 change-up, and be a good teammate.  And I have to determine all of this in a gymnasium meant for many sports, none of which is baseball.  In the end, though, there is one thing that you (the player) can control.  

You can hustle.  All the time.  It will be noticed.

The fact is, the same applies to our students and their perceptions of us.  They notice when we hustle.  They appreciate it.  They admire it.

And hopefully, they are inspired to do exactly the same.

Commercial Break Between Innings: The "P" Word--Pension or Passion?

As the Illinois state legislature discusses some very controversial changes that may soon be made to the pension system in our state, I felt it would be appropriate to take a break from my regular posts and chime in on this topic.  My third inning post will be coming soon....

Doyle Alexander helped Detroit in '87...briefly.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Think about how often this question is asked of you, by you, or around you throughout the course of your life.  It's a common question for two reasons.  First, it's important.  Second, it's very difficult to answer.

In 1994, I was at that stage in my life where I really needed to start bearing down on some sort of definitive answer to this question.  I had done everything my parents, teachers, coaches, counselors, and other influential adults in my life had asked me to do at that point (this was my junior year at Hersey High School).  Nearly perfect attendance.  Challenging courses filled with honors and AP offerings.  High score on the ACT.  Involved in a wide variety of extracurriculars.  Varsity athlete.

By now, I thought it was all supposed to fall in place, but the job interest surveys and conversations with my guidance counselor were leaving me feeling empty.  I knew I was going to college, but for what purpose?  

What in the world was I going to do when I grew up?

At some point during that school year, something opened my eyes.  The answer was right there in front of me.  It was actually comical for me to look back and think that I had ever experienced any doubt as to what I was going to dedicate the remainder of my professional life to.

You see, I was very fortunate throughout my school-aged years.  Attending public school, first in River Trails District 26 and later at John Hersey High School, I was surrounded by great teachers.  A myriad of reasons can be given for what, exactly, made each of them great.  But when I stopped to think about these people who had been such a big part of my development, I noticed that they all had several qualities in common.  They were happy.  They were helpful.  They were passionate.  They enjoyed the company of the students around them, as well as the colleagues they worked with.

My teachers, over the years, well....they loved their jobs.

Teachers like Mr. Madura, Mr. Vena, and Ms. Dinklekamp.  Like Mr. Gunther, Mr. Nitz, and Mr. Shay.  Like Coach Huber, Coach Pusatera, and Coach Giusti.

It was suddenly as clear as day.  I was going to be a teacher and a coach.  Sure, there would be opportunities out there to earn more money, more prestige, and live a more glamorous lifestyle.  But the happiness I saw in these role models was more than enough to convince me that this was the direction I needed to go.

2nd Inning--Be Proactive

The first inning on the mound is a battle between the pitcher and the adrenaline coursing through his veins.  Getting that first strike and first out and, eventually, that first successful walk back to the dugout under his belt signify more than just one ninth of the game.  Somehow, someway, they feel even bigger than that.

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.

First Inning--Be Humble

The first inning of a game is crucial to a pitcher.  It's difficult to explain why, but often times the stuff you have in the bullpen is not necessarily indicative of what you'll have when it comes time for the first pitch.  But every good pitcher has been taught that it's essential to attack the hitter, throw strikes, and keep your team behind you on their toes.

For that reason, my First Inning is about a quality that I think is paramount to being successful in education...

"Just the minute you think you have this game figured out, it brings you to your knees."

-Sparky Anderson

"Power is dangerous...unless you have humility."

-Richard J. Daley

I'm still hanging on.  After taking a couple of years off (2 little ones will do that to you), my wife encouraged me to get back on the field and start playing again this summer.  I'm very happy she did.  The quality of the game (specifically, the quality of MY game) is nowhere near where it used to be.  But the little things about baseball--the conversations on the bench, the mental side of the game, the competitive nature, and of course...the stories--that's what makes it so much fun to be back on the field at the not-so-ripe age of 35.

A few weeks ago, my team was in the midst of a 3-game playoff series to determine who would play in the league finals.  Average attendance for the series was 7, but to us, it was important.

In the middle of game two, one of my teammates (and also one of my Leyden co-workers...we'll call him Tom) was on third base with nobody out.  It was a fairly crucial moment in the game, and I was getting ready for my own at-bat, both mentally and physically.  However, the coach in me never really allows me to focus only on myself.  I'm constantly thinking about the 74 different scenarios that could take place on the next pitch, while simultaneously thinking one, two, or three pitches ahead.  It can be exhausting.

On the next pitch, it happened.  Tom made the inexcusable mistake.  As the pitch came across home plate, the catcher snapped a throw down to the third baseman.  Tom was out.  By a lot.  With nobody out.  Those of you that know baseball are shaking your heads right now.  Internally, so was I.  I couldn't believe that such a "heady" baseball player could do such a thing...a guy I'd coached with...a guy who I consider a FRIEND.  I hung my head.  I felt bad for Tom.  I knew he felt bad too.  A few teammates gave him the obligatory pat on the backside.  Most treated him as a leper.  I couldn't even make eye contact with him.  What a bonehead mistake.  What ARE YOU DOING, TOM?!

You know where this is going...

Next inning.  I get a hit.  Eventually, I advance to third base.  With nobody out.

You know I'm thinking about this before I even get in the batter's box.  IF you get on base, and IF you somehow find your way on third base, and especially IF there's nobody out:

DON'T GET PICKED!

I swear I was only 5 feet off the base.  I will cling to that until my dying days.  The pitch crossed home plate.  And through some force of nature, the ball catapulted out of the catcher's glove...in my direction.  It blew away the laws of Physics.  My 35-year-old reactions caused me to do what happens when you're 35 and you're surprised.  I tripped over my own feet.  

And I was OUT.

Suffice it to say that I, a man who is never at a loss for words, was shocked.  And worried.  And pretty sure Tom was smiling.

Here's the best part of this story.  Upon reaching the bench, someone on the team told me that the catcher is the best he's ever seen at that one particular play--the snap throw to third base.  He also told me how old the catcher was.

He's 54.

A nice giant helping of humble pie.

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We, as educators, are presented with a responsibility that it is easy to lose sight of.  The sheer number of students who cross our paths is mind-boggling when you sit down and do the math.

Let's take the average high school teacher/coach, for example.  Assuming he or she teaches five semester classes of, let's say, 25 students, the total number of students seen in a given year in the classroom ALONE comes out to 250.  Add in a team or a club, and we can bring that number to 275.  And that's just the ones we have DIRECT contact with on a daily basis.

If those numbers remain consistent over the course of a 35-year teaching career, that teacher interacts directly with....9,625 students.

As educators, we take pride in our craft, as well as the work we put in to get where we are today.  We all have degrees from universities.  Most of us possess at least one master's degree, and there are even a few "doctors" among us.  We are nationally recognized, we present at conferences, and we are esteemed leaders in our profession.

In the end, though, how much of that matters when a young lady tells you she's suffering from a terminal disease?  How about when a student of yours  whose only living relative is on her death bed asks how she is going to support herself?  Or the sophomore boy who is working 40 hours a week to help support his family that is on the brink of financial disaster?

Will your degrees, your blogs, your PLN, and your vast array of awards and distinctions help you (and them) then?

Probably not.

Walk in your students' shoes.  Take a moment to consider the roadblocks that many of them have had to hurdle already, and still see out in front of them.  The minute we are more caught up in ourselves than we are in the well-being of the young people we are charged with helping, some serious questions need to be asked.

Be humble.