Tag Archives: culture

Undoing the pandemic

It takes a long time to build a culture of a school community, and a relatively short time to undermine it. The pandemic has been a major dismantler of school culture.

Next year our Grade 12’s will only have had from September to March of their Grade 9 year in a normal pre-pandemic school. The new Grade 9’s will have experienced their last pre-pandemic school experience at the start of middle school in Grade 6.

So, next September instead of our Grade 9’s being invited into a new school culture that has been well established, they are entering a school culture that only the Grade 12’s have a vague memory of. They are entering a school culture designed by maintaining ever changing Covid-19 safety precautions.

Next school year will be a critical rebuilding year. This has a lot of promise if it’s done with thoughtful intentions. If next year starts with a ‘business as usual’ expectation, the post pandemic culture will feel more like the pandemic shaped the school. If the year starts with a sense of community building and fostering the culture you hope to see, the afterglow of the pandemic can fade rather quickly.

Cultures don’t rebuild themselves.

So what about your school do you miss? How do you get it back?

What about your school has changed positively? How do you keep these things?

What can you do to start rebuilding in June rather than waiting until September?

If these things aren’t talked about intentionally, if they are not shared by staff and students, the effects of the pandemic on your school culture might linger for a long time. Either intentionally build the culture, or accept what is built out of the ashes of a 2.5 year disruption to what your school culture used to be like. Because whatever your school culture was back in January of 2020 is highly unlikely to be rebuilt by itself in September of 2022.

The cost of it all

The cost of war is measured in many ways. Of course the cost of human life is the most obvious. Then there is the sheer cost of paying for the tools of war, and the damage those tools make on buildings and infrastructure.

But in todays globally connected economy, the cost of the war in the Ukraine is being felt around the world. Gas prices, food prices, and a deflated stock market are stripping away the profits of the rich, and the spending ability of the middle class and poor.

All this over borders… imaginary lines in the sand. We aren’t the only animal species that fight over territory, but we are by far the most violent. And, we’ve done this since the dawn of civilization. How many ‘civil’izations have been lost, conquered, displaced, enslaved, disenfranchised, annihilated?

Will there be a time in the future where we truly learn how to coexist? Where we spend more on sustaining relationships than on weapons of war? Where the cost of war is just too high to be a way to resolve conflict?

How high a price must we pay before war is finally seen as too high a price?

The nod

When I lived in China, if I passed a foreigner, an ex-pat, I got ‘the nod’. It didn’t matter if the person was British, East Indian, Australian, Japanese, or American, they were from another country and I got an acknowledging nod. We were in Dalian, North East China, and of all the foreigners, the Russians were most abundant. The Russians would not give you the nod, even if you gave them one. It was weird.

I got to know a few Russians while in Dalian and they were all very nice, but seeing a Russian stranger on the street, or in a shopping mall, they would give you a quick glance, decide you are not ‘one of them’, and look away. Never the nod.

It’s funny, one of my daughters once asked, “Do you think that they think we are American?” Because we were often asked (in Chinese) by locals if we were American? (Nǐ shì měiguó rén ma?) To which we would answer ‘Canadian’ (Jiānádà rén). Then the person would smile and be even more friendly. My kids picked this up pretty quickly and figured the Russians were assuming we were American.

Here in Canada I get the nod from people of Middle Eastern descent. It happened last night, when I was in a Lebanese Donair shop. I ordered my large, spicy, extra lamb donair, paid and walked along the counter to where I pick it up. Directly in front of me I made eye contact with a young man sitting and enjoying his meal, and he gave me the nod. I returned it with a smile. That was the whole exchange, nothing more. The knowing, ‘you are one of us’ nod.

Oddly enough, I have a Russian grandfather, and my Middle Eastern ancestry is that I’m 50% Ashkenazi Jew. So, the Russian in Dalian that shrugged off without the nod had no idea I actually had heritage, and the Middle Eastern in Canada would probably be surprised to know that my heritage is Jewish. And the Chinese in China had no idea my Grandmother was Chinese.

I’m used to not fitting in a cultural box. As I mentioned before, “I have a look that Italians mistake for Greek, and Greeks mistake for Italian. I am neither.” I am ‘white’ but with a combined heritage of being 75% Ashkenazi Jewish and Chinese, I don’t readily identify as white… other than the privilege I know that I ‘wear’.

But the nod is not about that. The nod is not really about nationality or heritage, it’s about sharing a common experience. It doesn’t matter if the nod is a case of mistaken identity, it doesn’t matter if you are from different parts of the world. The nod is a way that two human beings connect and say “I see you.” And it’s a beautiful thing.

The Learning Cliff

Everyone has heard of the Learning Curve. When you try something new and challenging, it is said that this has a ‘steep learning curve’. When new staff, teachers and secretaries, join my online school, I always tell them that they are going to experience a learning cliff. That is to say, there is so much to learn that you literally won’t remember how to do something shortly after you’ve tried to internalize it. You will hit a cliff or a barrier where you feel frustrated and think, “I already asked about this, I should know this.”

The reality is, ‘No, you shouldn’t,’ it’s totally understandable that you didn’t take in the answer to this question you have, when you tried to learn 15 other things at the same time. So, it’s perfectly ok to ask a second, third, even fourth time. We all worked through the learning cliff by asking the same questions more than once. We all know what it’s like to have so many new systems added to what we do. We all know it feels dumb asking again. We all appreciated others answering our same questions more than once. We are all happy to do the same for you.

I try to have this conversation in front of my long-time secretaries, because they agree and acknowledge that they heard me say this. And that they both appreciated the freedom to ask, and the welcoming responses to the same questions.

You don’t know that you didn’t learn everything you needed to until you hit the cliff with this feeling of, ‘I’ve been told how to do this already,’ or ‘I know that I did this before, why can’t I figure out how to do it again?’

When the culture is ‘ just ask again’, it turns the cliff back into a curve… there’s still a lot to learn, but the path to greater learning is more gradual and attainable.

Ask a student

I’ve created a survey for my Grade 11’s and 12’s. They are the only students in our school that know what our community and culture was like pre-lockdowns and pre-restrictions into cohorts to deal with the pandemic. The 11’s only saw this from September to February of their grade 9 year, the 12’s experienced it for a year and a half. I am asking them these questions for a few reasons:

1. I want them to remember what makes our school special.

2. I want them to share their perspective so that we know what students find valuable about the culture we had before restrictions altered our environment.

3. I want to learn what students didn’t like or enjoy, so that we don’t bring those things back.

I created the questionnaire and shared it with teachers for feedback. I also shared it with one of our grade 12’s. The teachers said, ‘good questions’ and gave a suggestion or two. My student said the same, then went on to give me a whole slew of suggestions that will make the survey easier to understand and respond to, and provide better (clearer) feedback to us. This student’s suggestions allowed me to see the survey through a student’s eyes, and gave me perspective that I could not have had otherwise.

Sometimes we do things for students without having empathy for their experience. We design activities and assignments without thinking of the user experience… without including them in the design process. Often we can make these activities and assignments for students so much better… if we just remember to ask a student.

Canada Day redefined

Usually this day is a day when I would wear red and white. I am an immigrant, but I am a proud Canadian. I have met many people who, like me, were not born in this country but fully adopted it as ‘home’, and like me many people feel like the adoption is mutual. Canadians accepts us as Canadian, despite being born abroad.

But today I will wear an orange shirt. Today I find it challenging to show pride in a country that secretly buried its children on Residential school grounds. Today I stand with the people who did not immigrate to Canada, but who were forced off their land, and forced to send their children to schools that abused them and attempted to colonize them, and stripped away their different languages and their cultures.

This isn’t the Canada I’ve grown to know and love, but it is every bit my Canada. This tragedy is not a history to remain buried, it is a history to face, and reconcile. I will wear red and white again on Canada at some point in the future, but to heal the wounds that run so deep, and generationally hurt so many people so deeply, I choose on this day to wear orange. I choose to say that every child matters… those that died because of racist segregation at residential schools, those that are dealing with generational trauma, those that hurt knowing the truth and are awaiting reconciliation.

I am not wearing orange in defiance, I am wearing it in unity, in solidarity. I am Canadian, and as a Canadian I am not someone who can be proud of the history of buried and forgotten children that have recently been discovered. As a Canadian I will wear orange to represent the Canada I want to live in, one where we do not forget our past, and we remember that every child matters.

Masked in an Unmasked World

When we lived in China from 2009-2011, we would see people wearing masks when we were out in the community. They weren’t used by most people, but there were enough people that wore them that they became something you were quite accustomed to seeing. Certain places you would see them more frequently, two of these being on public transportation, and in large underground malls, common in the city of Dalian.

Also, you would see street vendors who made your food wearing them as well, or the staff at the back of restaurants or food stalls. It was a common courtesy for food handlers to wear a mask.

Basically, you’d see masks occasionally worn in public, and worn more frequently in crowded indoor spaces, and by people who served food. That makes a lot of sense. Another place we would see them is worn by students who had colds. Parents would still send them to school, but with a mask… and that’s far better than what happens here with young students sniffling and wiping their snot on their sleeves.

As the population slowly becomes double vaccinated and the Coronavirus numbers come down, I wonder what mask use will look like here in Canada? How common will mask-wearing be as we start to unmask?

My guess is that Asian cultures that are used to having masks around for over a decade since SARS and H1N1 will wear masks far more frequently than other cultures… simply because it is good etiquette to wear them in crowded public places. But will this be something that is looked upon as a gesture of safety and respect for others, or will this make them a target for racism?

Who else will we see wearing masks regularly? The immunocompromised, germaphobes, food handlers? Will there be many random people wearing masks because they feel comfortable doing so, or because they don’t feel 100% well and don’t want to spread anything? Or will mask-wearing be an anomaly in a sea of unmasked people, going about their business like Covid-19 never happened?

I think the acceptance of after-pandemic mask wearing will depend more on the continued spread of variants, and that the longer Covid-19 lingers, the more accepted mask-wearing in public after vaccinations will be. My hope is that as people unmask, they also become accepting of seeing people prefer to keep masks on in public. Living in China and seeing masks frequently, I never thought of it as weird. I never judged someone for wearing one, and as an avid fan of street food, it comforted me to see a street vendor who wore a mask as he or she prepared my food.

We will be mostly unmasked soon. Let’s make sure that we are considerate to those who continue to wear masks, since they are being considerate of us.

Lost items

A few days ago I found a nickel on the ground near the park my wife and I walk. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I then had to change pockets because it was clinking against my phone, making an annoying sound. I realized then that I don’t tend to walk with change in my pocket very often. At home, I put it in my drawer that I keep my keys in, where I also put loose change. I noticed that I didn’t have any change in there and haven’t for a while. I don’t walk around with coins, I don’t pay for things with cash, and I don’t find lost change nearly as much as I used to in the past.

What I do see that I never used to is lost and dropped masks. They litter the floor like abandoned cigarette butts, easily noticed and equally as unappealing. I don’t want to see them, but I also have no desire to touch them in order to throw them away. Because they are much larger than cigarette butts, they are even more noticeable, and they seem to be everywhere.

Yesterday the grounds crew were cutting the grass and weed whacking around the school and one of them brought in a drone that fell out of a tree. He brought it in and said maybe a student had lost it. But the reality is that it probably belonged to someone in the community and I’ll have no way of knowing who it belongs to or how to get it back to them?

20 years ago lost coins and cigarette butts were items lost and dropped by people. Now it’s drones and masks. What will it be in another 20 years?

The Van Gogh Exhibit

Here are some images and a short video from the Van Gogh Exhibit at the Vancouver Convention Centre:


This was truly a visual experience to be had. It begins with written information shared in socially distanced panels, then opens to the room in the images I shared above (there are 6 to scroll through on the Instagram post). If you get the opportunity to go, you will enjoy it.

Colonial noose

“New Zealand male lawmakers are no longer required to wear a necktie in parliament after the rule was dropped following a Maori MP’s protest, calling a tie a ‘colonial noose’.” (Reuters)

I’ve always hated neck ties. What kind of society are we in where we teach young boys that, to be formal, you must tie a noose around your neck and make sure it is nice and snug?

What a ridiculous fashion accessory.

I wore a tie almost every day for 2 years in China. As a principal there, it was an expectation. I wear one once every one to two months here, only when I am entering a meeting where I feel it is important to be formal, such as when I’m representing my district, or my schools in a formal way.

If I can avoid wearing a noose, I will. I know others that wear them all the time. I don’t judge them in any way, it’s fine if they want to, choose to, like to wear them. But I get no pleasure in wearing them myself. I don’t feel dressed up in them, I feel constricted. I feel like an animal in a choker collar.

The only time a tie should be worn is at a costume party when dressed up as someone from a time long past. Or maybe at a ball or Galla, like wearing a cummerbund with a tuxedo. Beyond that, I’d love to see the ‘colonial noise’ disappear from regular formal wear.