Dream small.

“Wait, what? Dream small?” you may be thinking. “I thought we were supposed to dream big. I thought we were were supposed to have big dreams.”

We are. But we also need to dream small. Let me explain.

Recently, a song I had never heard before made its way into my earbuds as a Spotify suggested tune. The song is called “Dream Small” by Josh Wilson. As I listened, the lyrics completely resonated with me, especially this second verse:

“It’s visiting the widow down the street
Or dancing on a Friday with your friend with special needs
These simple moments change the world
Of course there’s nothing wrong with bigger dreams
Just don’t miss the minutes on your way to bigger things
‘Cause these simple moments change the world”

​As I listened, it made me think of what we do in education. We have so many big goals for our students, and rightfully so. Teaching them to read and write. Helping them master the various components of mathematics. Building responsibility and character. Preparing them for college and the workforce. All important things for sure. Make no mistake, these should be our goals for our students.

But this song served as an excellent reminder that we cannot overlook the small things on the journey to our bigger goals, for it’s the little things that often times have the biggest impact.

A smile.

A high-five or fist bump as students enter your classroom each day.

An encouraging pat on the back.

An observant comment such as “I like your shoes. Are those new?” or “Did you get your hair cut?” 

Asking about a student’s weekend, and then giving your undivided attention as he or she tells you about it.

These simple moments can change a student’s world. These simple acts can make students feel valued, feel loved, something far more important than a perfectly executed lesson. 

It’s so easy to get bogged down with all we have to do — the demands on teachers and administrators are great. We are responsible for a ton! But let us not forget the power contained in a smile, a compliment, or a few moments of undivided attention. Let us not forget to dream small. Even a tiny pebble can create a large ripple. Or as another verse in the song says, 

“A tiny rock can make a giant fall.”

I recently watched, for the umpteenth time, The Princess Bride, one of my all-time favorite movies. This movie has it all--action, adventure, humor, romance, and...wait for it...a teaching reminder.

“A teaching reminder?” you say. "Inconceivable!"

Yes, the movie teaches viewers how to navigate the Fire Swamps and why you should never trust a six-fingered man, but during my most recent viewing of this classic, I was reminded of an important instructional strategy in the four-second clip below.

​Vizzini’s comment reminded me of the importance of waiting, something typically viewed in our society as a negative, but in education, is imperative in certain situations. Let me explain.

In our teaching credential programs, we learned about wait time, the practice of pausing several seconds after posing a question, allowing students more time to formulate thoughtful and detailed answers (as well as giving more students the opportunity to answer the question). But there is another kind of wait time, one that seems obvious, yet in my opinion, is often overlooked. I’m talking about waiting until every student is paying attention before delivering instruction or giving a direction.

Sounds simple, right? But do we actually do it? Do we have the attention of all our students before giving a direction? Sure, those students seated in the front couple of rows or at the front of the line are focused on what we’re saying, but what about those in the back? Are they listening? Are they looking at us? Are they even facing the front?

Unless we demand the attention of all our students, chances are we’re not going to get it. And it’s okay to demand students’ attention, because this can be done in a respectful way. I’m not saying we should mimic an impatient Vizzini and say to our students, “I’m waiting!” in a rude tone of voice. What I am saying is that it’s okay to wait until you have everyone’s attention. And you may have to wait several moments. That’s okay. No, it’s not just okay—it’s a cornerstone of effective teaching. Because if you don’t do this, some of your students will miss out on what you’re saying, whether it’s a simple direction or something more important. If they’re not listening, it doesn’t matter what you’re saying.

Vizzini could have walked away, frustrated with the delay. But he waited, knowing he needed his comrades to accomplish his task. We too must learn to wait, for we need all our students, just as they need us.​

So the next time you’re about to give a direction or deliver a lesson, think of Vizzini. Just try and wait a little more patiently than he did.

As an elementary school principal, I have the opportunity to interact with students in a bunch of different ways. From high-fiving boys and girls as they’re dropped off each morning to shooting hoops with a group of students during recess to popping into classrooms to see kids engaged in learning, being with students is the best part of my job.

Not too long ago I had the opportunity to host Lunch with the Principal. Each month, every teacher selects a student who has been excelling in class, demonstrating perseverance, showing great character, etc., and those students get to join me for a pizza lunch. It’s a fun way for me to sit down and chat with students, praise them for working hard, and connect with them in a more relaxed setting. Totally casual. Just students, our assistant principal, and me, shooting the breeze over gourmet (or at least affordable) Little Caesars pizza.

After students had their fill of pizza and were dismissed back to class, I walked through the staff lounge where one of our 1st grade teachers stopped me in my tracks with this comment.

​“Hey, Brent. Calvin was was so excited to have lunch with you today. He even got a haircut yesterday to get ready.”

“Wait. What?” I said. “He got a haircut for Lunch with the Principal?”

“Yep. That’s what he told me,” she said with a smile.

Apparently, the simple act of getting to eat $6 pizza with me was a pretty big deal for this 6-year-old, enough so that he wanted a haircut to be part of his preparation.

I was totally blown away. I was humbled. And I was a bit ashamed.

See, in that moment, I realized that in the busyness of my schedule, I had overlooked the importance of this time. While seemingly simple in my eyes (pick up pizza -- check, buy ice and soda -- check, set out paper plates and napkins -- check), this was more than a simple event on my calendar. For this student (and probably a good number of those who attended), this was HUGE. This was a chance to eat with the principal. It’s weird for me to even write that, but today I was reminded of my influence, even when I’m too busy or dense to realize it.

It wasn’t just pizza. It was an opportunity to connect with those I serve, a chance to talk about their pets at home, what they like to play at recess, and what they hope to get for Christmas. It was an opportunity to get to know my students, and for them to get to know me.

I was reminded that students don’t necessarily have a dozen things on their calendar that have to get done. I was reminded that for them, I may be the ONE thing on their “To Do” list, the one thing they’re looking forward to that day. I was reminded of the incredible power I possess to make a difference in the lives of my students, of the power all educators possess. It’s a bit scary, but what an opportunity! An opportunity I don’t want to miss.

So the next time you find yourself thinking “It’s just pizza,” “It’s just a smile,” or “It’s just a high five,” remember -- that pizza, smile, or high five may be making a student’s day, week, or even month. That student may be telling Mom and Dad about it or writing about it in their journal. Who knows? Your action may even lead to a haircut.

Movies like Dead Poets Society, Stand and Deliver, and Mr. Holland’s Opus definitely deliver in their attempts to provide inspiration and encouragement for teachers looking to be bold, out-of-the-box thinkers who will do anything for their students. But have you ever watched a TV show or movie that had nothing to do with education, yet it taught you a lesson or completely resonated with you as a teacher or administrator? This recently happened to me when I watched an oldie but a goodie, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.

Wait, what? Star Trek? Seriously?

Stay with me. You don’t have to be a Trekkie to appreciate this.

Most of us, even if not fans of Star Trek, are familiar with or have at least heard of Captain Kirk. Kirk was the captain of the Starship Enterprise, leading his crew on countless adventures to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, and boldly go where no man had gone before. He was creative, confident (some would say arrogant), and didn’t always follow orders. But he got results.

A little background before showing you the clip from the movie that got my attention. Before becoming a captain, Kirk was given a training exercise while in Starfleet Academy called the Kobayashi Maru. The Kobayashi Maru was given to all Starfleet cadets to test them in a no-win scenario, to see how they would react in a problem situation where there was no solution. It was a test that couldn’t be passed, a game one couldn’t win. Except Kirk did. Watch the clip below.

​As educators, I think we all need to be more like Captain Kirk. In the simulation, Kirk changed the conditions of the test because he didn’t like to lose. He wasn’t content with being told he couldn’t win. He didn’t accept the fact that he had to lose.

Here’s my point -- In this portion of dialogue, what if we equated losing to students not learning? Watch the clip again, but this time, when Kirk says he doesn’t like to lose, replace it in your mind with the phrase “I don’t like it when students don’t learn.” When he says he doesn’t believe in a no-win scenario, replace that with “I don’t believe students can’t learn.” Take a moment to rewatch the clip through this lens.

If students aren’t learning, we need to change the conditions of the “test.” That’s not cheating. That’s doing what’s best for kids. For our students’ sake, we can’t afford to keep teaching or leading a certain way simply because that’s the way it’s always been done or that’s what the Teacher’s Edition suggests. If it’s not working for all students, we need borrow a few words from Dr. Phil and ask ourselves, “How’s that working for ya?” Accepting parameters that limit student learning is not acceptable. We need to be willing to think outside the box, to do whatever it takes to ensure all students learn. We can’t be afraid to change the conditions of the test.

So what might changing “test” conditions look like?

Maybe it looks like not giving the same assignment to every student.

Maybe it looks like asking yourself the question, “Why am I even giving this assignment?”

Maybe it looks like allowing students to take an actual test more than once, giving them the ability to learn from and fix their mistakes.

Maybe it looks like providing students with the opportunity to demonstrate learning in new and engaging ways (e.g. creating a video with iMovie or Adobe Spark, building a model in Minecraft) rather than a traditional test, quiz, or term paper.

Maybe it starts with simply asking students what helps them learn best.

What if teachers and administrators embraced the mindset of Kirk and made his three statements their mantra?

“I don’t like to lose.” 
Translation: I hate it when students don’t learn.

“I don’t believe in a no-win scenario.”
Translation: I won’t accept the notion that all students can’t learn.

“I changed the conditions of the test.”
Translation: I’ll do whatever it takes for students to learn.
​

Let’s be like Captain Kirk and boldly take our students where they’ve never gone before.

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Like the idea of relating entertainment to education? Be sure to check out Weston Kieschnick’s podcast Teaching Keating as Weston and his wife, Molly, use your favorite movies and TV shows as a vehicle to reflect on instructional practice. It's a great listen!

As educators, we make a difference every single day in the lives of those we serve. I know, I know. This isn’t groundbreaking news. This also just in -- water is wet.

There are times when we know we’re making a difference. Like those times when you see the light bulb go on in a student, when he/she “gets it.” When targeted intervention results in a student’s reading level significantly rising over the course of the school year. When you see a student light up after a word of praise. When you receive a hand-drawn picture from a first grader telling you she’s happy to be at your school. These moments remind us of our impact.

But what about the times we don’t see the fruits of our labor? What about when we don’t hear the words of appreciation for what we do, or the student’s reading level doesn’t rise the way we would have hoped? Does that mean we’re not making a difference? Absolutely not! Yes, there are times when our impact will be clearly seen, but there are also times when we will have no clue how powerful our influence is on those we serve.

Let me illustrate. At the end of this past school year, I took an incredible idea from the amazing John Eick and tried it with my staff. I created a Google Form that asked our students, parents, and staff to write a few words of encouragement to one or more of our staff members, and the responses from the form were then merged into individual messages of appreciation and emailed to staff members. People need to feel appreciated, so I thought this would be a great way for staff to feel the love after working so hard all year. To say the idea was a success would be an understatement, as we had over 1,000 responses, generating over 1,000 messages of appreciation! To hear more about this idea and how we did it, take some time to listen to my conversation with John in Episodes 20 and 23 of my podcast Teaching Tales.

Here's my point in sharing this. One of the messages of appreciation I received was from one of our promoting 5th grade students. She wrote:

“Thank you Mr.Coley for helping me up on the first day of 5th grade when I fell.”

As the principal of an elementary school, students see me do a lot, like opening gates, supervising drop-off and dismissal, visiting classrooms, leading weekly Friday Flag assemblies, and hanging out with students during recess. But of all the things I did this past year, what this student remembered was that I helped her up after she fell on the first day of school. That act may not seem like much, but it made enough of an impact on her that 10 months later, that’s what she wanted to thank me for. And you know what? I don't remember doing this. I have no recollection of helping her up after she fell. But she does, and that's what matters. 

I frequently say that kids watch everything we do. They watch, and they remember, even if we don't. Receiving this student's message reminded me it’s the little things that can often make the biggest impact.

My friend Cori Orlando recently shared with me a short Ted Talk that perfectly illustrates this idea that we can make a huge difference in the lives of those around us, even when we don’t realize it. I encourage you to take six minutes to watch, and then ask yourself, “What’s my lollipop moment?”

Ever needed a pick-me-up? I'm not talking about a Venti Espresso from Starbucks or a Red Bull energy drink, but rather a boost of the verbal variety. Ever needed a kind word to lift your spirits or encourage you to keep going? I have.

I love my job. I mean, I really love my job. Having the opportunity to interact with students, parents, and staff at my school on a daily basis is incredibly rewarding. Seeing smiling faces. Giving high fives as students are dropped off in the morning. Seeing the "light bulbs" turn on for students as I visit classrooms. It's awesome. I am truly blessed to do what I do.

But if I'm being honest, I'm tired. My teachers and support staff are tired. I'm writing this post on a Sunday afternoon in mid-May, and there are a lot of balls in the air with only three weeks to go in the school year. Finishing up state testing. End-of-year district testing. End-of-year field trips and grade level activities. These on top of the typical day-to-day responsibilities. I'm tired, both physically and mentally, and a Carmel Frappuccino can only do so much.

I've been in need of a boost, and this past Monday I got one. At 9:32 p.m. I received an email from the parent of two of my students. It was a simple message containing four short sentences. It simply thanked me for what I do and let me know I was appreciated. Four short sentences...that brought me to tears.

See, it was exactly what I needed to hear (or read) at that exact moment in time. The parent's words had a profound impact on me that didn't just make my day, they buoyed me for the rest of the week. As my friend Cori Orlando has so beautifully written, words are powerful. They have the ability to build up, to encourage, to inspire. Speaking or writing kind words is so easy to do, yet this simple action can have an impact that is immeasurable.

Receiving this encouraging message from a parent last week reminded me of the need to speak life into those around me. I'm challenging myself and anyone reading this to make someone's day. Speak, write, text, or email some encouraging words. Express your appreciation. Say, "Thank you." Go ahead, make someone's day. You never know -- you may make his/her week, month, or even year. 

My school is full of amazing students. 875 of them to be exact.

While part of my job as a principal is working with students who, at times, make choices that prevent them from meeting the school’s behavioral expectations, I also get to see daily examples of kindheartedness, sharing, perseverance, and forgiveness. Kids get a bad rap sometimes, but today I was reminded just how incredible our future generation is. Today I experienced impromptu student awesomeness.

Today was the day our 5th graders officially recorded their mile run times as part of California’s physical fitness assessment required of all grade 5 students. They’ve been training all year, spending the first part of each day out on the track building up their stamina, working up to today’s run.

Soon after the bell rang to start the day, I needed to relay a message to one of our 5th grade teachers so I headed out to the field. As I approached, I heard a lot of noise coming from the students gathered on the grass. The closer I got, I realized the noise was cheering. Students cheering for each other.

When I arrived at the field, I observed the boys circling the track, pushing themselves to get their best times yet. And I watched and listened with pride as the girls cheered on their male classmates, filling their tanks with the fuel of encouragement.

“You cheering for the guys?” I asked a few girls as I walked past.

“Yep,” they responded, smiling.

Pretty cool, huh?

During lunch, I walked through the staff lounge and heard the 5th grade teachers talking about the mile run and its student cheering section.

“That was so cool!” I said. “Did the boys do the same thing for the girls?” I asked Mr. Walton, one of the teachers.

“You didn’t see what the boys did?” he asked. I hadn’t, as I had left the field before the girls began running.

Mr. Walton proceeded to tell me that not only did the boys enthusiastically applaud for the girls with a variety of creative cheers, they made a tunnel with their arms for the girls to run through at the conclusion of their run. Mr. Walton said the girls in his class were so appreciative they gave the boys an extra cheer when they returned to the classroom.

But the best part? It was totally impromptu. No planning by the teachers. The students organized it all on their own. They displayed kindness, encouraging each other, not because they had to but because they wanted to. Mr. Walton got goosebumps telling the story. I got goosebumps listening to the story. I’m getting goosebumps again as I write this story.

Today our students displayed impromptu student awesomeness. Our future is in good hands.