Abrazos!
I'm having a six-week stint as principal of Jennie P. Stewart again, replacing a principal who is off opening another new school--just as I left to open Snow Horse nine years ago. Some of the parents and teachers are the same; none of the children are, but the place is still filled with love and lovable children, and teachers who need to know that what they do is noticed and appreciated.
It's weird being in the role of jefe but without evaluative nor planning responsibilities. God must have known I'd need help in my goal to be present in my life. Each day, I have that day, just that one day. The little incidents, celebrations, meetings and opportunities that come up that need a principal-- those are what I'm there for. It's surprising what a variety of issues I've already dealt with, in just a month. This job doesn't go on hold just because the usual person isn't in the office.
Teachers reported some vulgar sex-talk on the playground. I've learned to take it to the parents before confronting the children, and in doing so, this time, opened a can of worms that was good to open, but will be life changing for this family. It turns out that the older (both adopted) brother has been molesting the fifth-grader and the night I called the parent--and they learned about the abuse--police were called and the boy removed from the home. Is it any wonder the child was and is still acting out?
I met a different boy on Day One. He was introduced as the school's trouble maker. I'll call him Hank. He's been through two mothers to death--at a fairly young age, as I understand, and is driving the office staff and his teachers crazy with his behavior. Any change is upsetting to him, and field trips have been particularly rough. He was forbidden to ever return to the Ogden Nature Center this year, so the policy has been that he has to have his dad along on any subsequent field trip. On Monday, the second-grade was going to Pioneer Village at Lagoon and dad was just married on Friday. Surely, he wouldn't be going on Hank's field trip! I told the teacher that I thought it was important to let Hank attend and if I had to, I'd go and hold his hand at Lagoon. The bell rang and the teacher said, "You won't have to go. Hank's dad's new wife is going with him!" I walked out to the bus where people were waiting to get on and said, "Hank! Who do you have with you?" "It's my MOM!!" Does this woman have any idea how important she is to all of us? Later Hank told the psychologist when she asked about his new mom, "She's the most beautiful woman in the whole world!"
And then there's the hatchet in the backpack. "You forgot it was in there?!" You could hardly zip the thing. I told the boy, "It's mine until your parents come to get it." It apparently is still mine.
The millions of ice bags and band-aids every recess--lines of children needing first aid. I got on the intercom before one recess and said, "New policy: bandaids for blood and blisters. Ice for bad bumps and bruises. Hugs for everything else." I think it's slowed the traffic to the office, but an interesting thing happened. A teacher told me that after I made that announcement, one student said, "She's so nice!" The teacher, puzzled, said to me, "You just told them don't come to the office for bandaids and ice and what they heard was you would hug them." I will, too!
I'm trying to hug the teachers, too, with encouraging notes, cinnamon rolls and various kinds of "atta-boys" in these last weeks of school. I'm really loving the time I have to do this and am grateful for the opportunity. Tomorrow, I've been asked to speak to the first-year principals at their last Rookie Rap. I did it a few years ago--read stories from my principal journal, and I get to have a repeat performance. I'm looking forward to telling my "little shit" and other stories. I may tell that one here, another day.
