Tag Archives: reflection

Reimagining Schools

Since November I’ve been connecting, every few weeks, with Will Richardson and a group of educational leaders from around BC, Canada in a professional development session run by the BCPVPA (BC Principals and Vice Principals Association) called ‘Reimagining Schools: Confronting Education‘. Right off the bat, Will shared some framings:

• Everything is nature
• We’re not facing “problems” to be solved. We are in a predicament.
• Our predicament stems from the fact that we are out of relationship with each other and all living things on the planet. All of our challenges flow from this disconnect.
• Education is complicit in creating these challenges.
• Collapse is not new. What’s new is that systemic privilege is no longer a buffer.
• Our personal challenge is to face reality or “sit with the shit” and not run from complex, difficult questions.

There are a few deep thoughts that have brewed from these sessions, and yet oddly enough the two most impactful things came from outside the sessions.

First a conflict within me. Will shared a post on LinkedIn where he said,

“I think it’s telling that for all of the conferences and presentations and talks and essays and “achievements” that people post and discuss here, only about 2% of them seem to make any note of the fact that they are happening while:

~ecological limits are being breached
~social trust is eroding
~ AI is reshaping cognition
~ politics are destabilizing
~ inequality is deepening
~ biodiversity is declining at alarming rates

I mean, without using those contexts as a lens for our gatherings or our teaching or writing, what is the actual relevance that we can claim, not just around education, but around living life on the planet in general?

It’s either denial or ignorance. Or maybe it’s concern that if we ground our work in those lenses, no one will show up or read or listen…”

I commented:

“I’d push back a bit and ask what is the conference about?

There’s a cognitive dissonance that is invited when the mind has to weigh these things AND also take in information that people are going to a conference to learn about.

I’m seeing your question play out on social media where people are being called out for not being political and sharing their political stance… on a channel where politics is never discussed.

There needs to be a balance, we can’t stick our head in the sand, but we also can’t pretend (and I do intentionally mean pretend) that acknowledging major issues of global concern are equivalent to somehow authentically addressing them… and topically addressing them when our topic isn’t directly affected by them is to me worse than not mentioning them. It can be a distraction without gain to the intended message.”

Will responded:

Dave Truss So, I’ll push back a bit on the push back. 🤣

I don’t think it’s a “calling out” as much as it is a reminder. And I don’t disagree that just naming them authentically “addresses” them, but it does provide a different lens for whatever question is in front of us at that moment. Every topic is affected by them. Every one.

Modernity wants to separate everything out into pieces and ignore the interconnectedness of the whole. This is the world we live in right now. It’s all entangled.”

The comment conversation continued, and is worth reading, but doesn’t add to my conflicted feelings about this. On the one hand I completely agree with Will, if we aren’t bringing a contextual lens to what we are sharing, we are somehow missing the interconnectedness of some of the things we should most value and care about. But on the other hand, I’m sitting in a place right now where just two days ago I wrote about being ‘Intentionally disconnected‘ because paying attention to the rather disturbing world events right now feels like too much. I ended the post saying, “for now I lack the capacity to engage. It seems like a futile activity that will anger and upset me, with no gain. It is rare for me to actively choose to be uninformed, but right now is one of those times.”

Therein lies the conflict. I agree with Will, yet I don’t think I’m the only one who isn’t ready to face the harsh realities of the predicaments we are in… especially when I’m trying to learn something new. I think for our students it’s the same. The last of the framings above is, ‘Our personal challenge is to face reality or “sit with the shit” and not run from complex, difficult questions.”

I get it, I really do. But when I’m at a conference or when a student sits in a class, do we really need to ‘sit in it’? Do we need to connect everything we do to the predicaments we live in? Do we need this lens to permeate what we are learning? If I channel my inner Will Richardson I think I’d ask myself, ‘But what value is the learning if it isn’t addressing the predicaments we are in?’ … Again, I’m left conflicted.

For example, can I teach students about using AI in an ethical way and not mention the cost of the energy drain? Is mentioning this once enough or should that be the bigger lesson? Do I need to bring the dire state of the world into every lesson, predicament after predicament? Is this even healthy? Maybe I’m just too stuck in the current educational context to see the bigger picture? I really don’t think that these sessions answered this for me, and yet I feel I have a deeper understanding of the need to confront hard truths… and ensure that what we choose to teach be taught with a lens of a world in environmental, political, and social challenges. Will shared the following quote in one of our sessions:

“If we fully accept the world as it is—in all its harsh realities— then we can develop the very qualities we need to be in that world and not succumb to that harshness. We find our courage, morality, and gentle, nonaggressive actions by clear seeing and acceptance. As we accept what is, we become people who stand in contrast to what is, freed from the aggression, grasping and confusion of this time. With that clarity, we can contribute things of eternal importance no matter what’s going on around us—how to live exercising our best human qualities, and how to support others to discover these qualities in themselves.”
~ Margaret Wheatley “So Far From Home”

The second insight I’d like to share came after our first session. Will invited any of us who could stay on to do so. During that after-session conversation I mentioned that I was retiring. The topic of my school, Inquiry Hub, came up and I mentioned that I was proud of what our team has been able to do, transforming the learning outside of the traditional high school box. And yet, I was disappointed that our little school has not had a greater impact on the rest of the district. Will responded saying something like, ‘Dave, if you were able to do that, you would be a unicorn because I haven’t seen that happen yet.’

That simple statement had an unburdening effect on me. It is sad, yet it comforted me. For the past 13 years my small team of teachers and I have created a very special place for self-directed learners to have some true agency over what they are learning, while still providing an opportunity for them to meet all the requirements they need for their post high school ambitions. It has been an amazing ride, and the fact that it didn’t really spread beyond our walls isn’t something that should weigh on me as I head into retirement. The test of my leadership will show if the school thrives after I’m gone.

Overall, I really enjoyed the sessions with Will, and with the other educational leaders from across BC. I appreciated the experience of sitting in the discomfort of knowing things must change in education and sitting in the predicament rather than cherrypicking shallow solutions and discussing them like we were solving all the world’s problems. I encourage educators to follow Will on his journey to confront education and reimagine schools and join one of his cohorts of educators on similar journeys of discovery.

Remembering to PAUSE (#OneWord)

Just before the school year started I decided that I would choose a ‘#OneWord’ for the (school) year, and that it would be PAUSE. The tradition for One Word is to choose it to start the calendar year, but for my final school year I thought it was apropos.

I shared,

There is a lot I’m going to miss when I leave this job, what I don’t want to do is miss things while I still have time to enjoy them. I’m going to seek out opportunities to take pause in my day and truly experience the things I cherish.

This came to mind a few times from September to December, but not often enough. Moments where I spent a little extra time in a class, or didn’t just leave the class after one presentation so that I could see the next one. Moments where I sat to chat with staff rather than just sharing a message or asking a question then heading back to my office. Small pauses, meaningful but sparse.

This is my personal reminder to pause a little more often as I head to my end of the school year retirement… what I don’t want to do is miss things while I still have time to enjoy them.

The year that was

In the grand scheme of things the end of a year is arbitrary. It does not sit on a solstice, it has no real significance in the dance of the planets around our sun. It’s simply a date on the Gregorian calendar, so named after a Pope almost 450 years ago. And yet the end of a calendar year begs us to do some accounting for the year that has past, and it makes us ponder our accountability for the year to come.

It is a pause in the meter of a timeline we all share. A moment to take note, to reflect, to make sense of what was, and to then align with what we think should come next.

For me there sits a simple, key question to ponder: Was it a good year? The answer is less simple. Did I seize it or waste my year? Did I find more joy than sorrow? What will I cherish, and what do I wish to forget? What did and didn’t I accomplish? Was I present enough? Did I create anything of value? Do I keep going ‘as-is’ or make changes?

These are reflections and perspectives I have control over. But 2025 had moments I could not control. A loved one suffered a scary health incident with a slow, lingering recovery. And I lost a sister both unexpectedly and too soon. Reminders that we are only on this earth a short time and time is ultimately limited. Such reminders simultaneously make me want to leave 2025 behind, and yet leave me wanting to hold onto the past… hold on to an innocence, if not ignorance, of the pain of loss.

But that was the year that was, not the year yet to be. That was 2025, a year with only hours left before the calendar is forever left in the past. A year that I leave with a whimper not a bang. Maybe in the grand scheme of things the end of the year is arbitrary, but for me, I’m happy to leave the year that was behind… A reminder to value and cherish 2026 not only this time next year, but meaningful moment by meaningful moment all year long.

Ripple in time

I was at a dinner with some online school principals from other districts last night and one of them mentioned the influence that I had back in the early days of Twitter. It was interesting to hear his thoughts, and to recall what those days were like. The sharing and learning had a depth to it that I haven’t felt since. It was a time when educators were trying new things, playing with new technologies, and experimenting with their own practice on an almost daily basis. And then openly sharing their successes and failures, asking questions, and seeking solutions to new and thoughtful problems.

I’ve thought fondly of those times, but I never really took the perspective that I had influence, or that what I was doing was having a ripple effect on others. I felt more like I was riding the ripples of others than I felt like I was making the ripples myself.

It was quite an honour to hear him speak of the influence I had, and to look back at that time a little differently.

It took almost 9 years

15 years ago yesterday I started my second blog, this one called Daily-Ink. The plan was to write my ideas down on paper, in a leather bound book, and then photograph the page and upload it to the blog. I admitted in my first post that I held no promises because my previous attempt at taking a photo a day for a year failed. And sure enough, this idea didn’t last long.

It was September 28th, 2010, I was living in China at the time and starting my second school year there as principal of a foreign national pre-K to Grade 9 school. I did a few posts in my intended format then ended up using the blog when I wanted to share experiences and ideas that didn’t fit onto my Pair-a-Dimes for Your Thoughts blog, with the byline: Reflections on Education, Technology and Learning. I used Daily-Ink to track some articles I found interesting, comments I made on other blogs, to participate in a MOOC, and to record some travel experiences.

It was almost 9 years later, July 6th, 2019 that I decided I was actually going to write daily. I said on that day,

I’m not getting younger and more than ever, NOW is the best time to start.

I tried over a decade ago, now I’m going to do it – a short daily blog.

And here I am, 2,276 days later, still writing daily. So, whatever it was that you were planning to do but didn’t get around to it… it’s not too late. It’s not too late to write a book, to get in shape, to pursue a different career, or take up a new hobby. The years missed matter less and less once you actually get started.

OneWord: Pause

In 2020, I appropriately chose a #OneWord of Resilience. For 2021 I chose Thrive. In January of 2023 I chose ‘Many words, not one word’, and these were: Consistency, Efficiency, Positivity, Vocal, and Gracious.

I’m not waiting for January to pick a new word. The school year starts on Tuesday and I’m picking a special #OneWord to focus on for my final year before retiring. This word is Pause.

The inspiration came on my weekly Coquitlam Crunch walk this morning. The past few weeks were prime blackberry season. They have been ripe for the picking, delicious and abundant. But last week it really seemed like the season was at its end. Today on our walk they were very few on the nearby branches and none were the large juicy variety that we could pick to our heart’s content just a week or two before.

Just like that, the season was over… Or so I thought. At the top of the trail we take a small detour loop through a more wooded area and just as we were about to get back on the main path, we passed a section that was filled with ripe berries ready to be picked. I grabbed one and kept walking. Then I stopped. I paused. I told my buddy to hold up. We paused our fitness trackers and spent a few minutes picking and eating blackberries.

A delicious pause in our day.

And there you have it: Inspiration for my last school year. Pause.

Taking the time to sneak in a final moment to enjoy the last of the blackberry season was my literal example of ‘stopping to smell the roses’. And that’s what I plan to do all year. Pause and appreciate, pause and celebrate, pause and experience.

There is a lot I’m going to miss when I leave this job, what I don’t want to do is miss things while I still have time to enjoy them. I’m going to seek out opportunities to take pause in my day and truly experience the things I cherish.

Remembered and forgotten

I went to a friend’s father’s funeral today. It was a Catholic service. The music was pleasant, the tribute was lovely. You can tell he was loved by family and friends. It was really nice.

This made me think a bit about what kind of service I’d want? If I had a terminal diagnosis and knew the date was looming, I’d probably want a celebration of life before I died. To me that is the time to actually get together and celebrate.

That said, I’d prefer to live a long healthy life and slip away in my sleep at a ripe, but cognitively sound, old age. Without knowing the date was coming, what kind of celebration would I want?

Two things come to mind. First, I’d want a long interval between my death and my celebration of life. Don’t hold it when the pain of loss is close, don’t make my death date a date to remember. That’s not a date I want defining memories of me. Second, it’s not very important what I want, after all, I’m gone. Let the people who I matter to pick a distant date, maybe my birthday for example, to gather in any way they wish, and to do with my ashes whatever they wish.

Forget the actual death, remember the life the way you want. The celebration isn’t for me, it’s for those left behind.

27 years

Today is my 27th Wedding Anniversary. Including the time we’ve dated, I’ve now spent more than half of my life living with my wife. What a wonderful adventure it has been! I feel blessed to have found such a wonderful person to spend my life with. And together we’ve raised two amazing daughters that I couldn’t be more proud of. Tonight we celebrate as a family, breaking bread together at one of our favourite restaurants. Tomorrow we head off early to go to a funeral of a friend’s parent. The contrast in celebration is stark, and an important reminder to appreciate all that we have, while we still have it.

I’m also days away from my 27th anniversary of being an educator. And here too is a similar contrast, as I plan for this to be my last year before I retire. I don’t leave counting the days, I leave feeling like there is still more work to be done. I leave with a reminder that I’m going to miss this as much as I’m looking forward to the freedom of not working daily.

How did I get to two milestones of 27 years and still feel like things have only just begun? How does time go so quickly? How am I the parent of two adults in their 20’s? My oldest daughter is a quarter of a century old. My young wife and I are both in our late 50’s. She has been an amazing educator for over 30 years. Those just don’t feel like our statistics, those are the stats of older people. I saw a T-shirt on an older man, who rode past me a few days ago, and the message on his shirt said: “It’s weird being the same age as old people.” I haven’t connected so quickly to a T-shirt slogan in a long time.

All that said, today is a day of celebration. The past 27 years have not necessarily been easy, but they certainly have been rewarding and memorable… and I look forward to the next 27 years of finding joy, showing appreciation for what I have, and feeling younger than I am.

Visually acclimatized

I’m sitting in my basement and on the floor in front of me is a framed painting that should be on the wall. It’s one of a pair that used to side-by-side, but they need a couple Velcro strips to get them aligned. Unfortunately the strip unstuck from the one that’s currently on the floor, and I removed it because it looked way too crooked on the wall.

It’s an easy fix, but I haven’t done it yet. It’s interesting that although I’m downstairs a lot, before looking at the painting on the floor just now, I’ve barely noticed the fact that it’s on the floor and missing from next to the matching frame on the wall.

How many things are like that for us? Items sitting inconspicuously in the absolutely wrong spot but we are visually acclimatized to where they sit? We go about our day ignoring the fact that items have a new home in a location they shouldn’t have?

I wonder if that’s the same for our brains and the way we think about things?

Community & Friendship

As I head to retirement, I’ve been thinking a bit about community and friendships.

When I think about my friendships I’ve come to the realization that of the friends I keep in contact with regularly, they all date back to my first few years of teaching (25+ years ago) and before (university and high school). It’s a little shocking to realize that I haven’t added very close friends for the second half of my life. I have great friends and am not actively looking for more, but that’s still a surprising thing to recognize.

I have friends I connect with when I go back to Toronto, one friend from university here in BC that I try to see regularly despite our very different lives and schedules, and then my friends I met in my early teaching career. And in thinking about retirement I’m very interested in fostering community among these friends.

When there isn’t a sport or a club that we are all members of, how do we make sure we connect regularly? What do we do to build community. My university buddy and I try to make sure that we have experiences and don’t just meet to reminisce. Another buddy and I do the Coquitlam Crunch weekly and try to work out at least one more time a week together. My wonder is, what else can I do with friends to ensure we build community, and grow together rather than apart?