Tonight I attended a Halifax County Education Summit whose goal was to engage parents, teachers and general public in a conversation on what is required for all Halifax County students to reach extraordinary levels of academic performance.  They hoped to do this through collaboration among the three different school systems in our county (Weldon, Roanoke Rapids Graded School District, and Halifax County), as well as representation from KIPP:GCP. 

 

New to the area, I’m not very familiar with the educational landscape in the community in which I live and work.  The fundamental understanding I have of it is what a Wake County Superior Court deemed as “academic genocide” (The State of Education in Halifax County).

 

Not surprisingly, I left the summit with more questions than answers, which is probably what should happen around issues which are so important.  Unfortunately, the spirit of the conversation was supposed to be around collaboration toward the future, but in reality, it seemed to escalate into the school districts patting themselves on the back for their “successes,” defending themselves for potential "failures," and shrugging off the rest. 

 

There was a lot of talking, but not a lot of listening.  I’m reminded of Turning to One Another:  Simple Conversations to Restore Hope to the Future.  Wheatley writes:

 

“I believe we can change the world if we start listening to one another again.  Simple, honest, human conversation.  Not mediation, negotiation, problem-solving, debate, or public meetings.  Simple, truthful conversation where we each have a chance to speak, we each feel heard, and we each listen well. 

 

What would it feel like to be listening to each other again about what disturbs and troubles us?  About what gives us energy and hope?  About our yearnings, our fears, our prayers, our children?

 

[…]

 

Human conversation is the most ancient and easiest way to cultivate the conditions for change – personal change, community and organizational change, planetary change.  If we can sit together and talk about what’s important to us, we begin to come alive.  We share what we see, what we feel, and we listen to what others see and feel. 

 

[...]

 

Conversation, however, takes time.  We need time to sit together, to listen, to worry and dream together.  As this age of turmoil tears us apart, we need to reclaim time to be together.  Otherwise, we cannot stop the fragmentation. 

 

And we need to be able to talk with those we have named “enemy.”  Fear of each other also keeps us apart.  Most of us have lists of people we fear.  We can’t imagine talking with them, and if we did, we know it would only create more anger.  We can’t imagine what we would learn from them, or what might become possible if we spoke to those we most fear.

 

[…] Juanita taught me that all change, even very large and powerful change, begins when a few people start talking with each one another about something they care about.  Simple conversations held at kitchen tables, or seated on the ground, or leaning against doorways are powerful means to start influencing and changing our world.” 

 

I went over to a colleague's house (I’m calling people colleagues, how old am I?) a couple of weeks ago.  Señora Harris (Gisela) is the Spanish teacher at our school, and she invited people from the Primary School over to her house for food, drinks, conversation.  Joe and I went over there, but Joe had to leave pretty early.  I don't know if you've ever met or interacted with me, but I'm not a very chatty person, nor would I put myself in a situation to stay at someone's house to talk with people with whom I'm not very familiar.  But I did.  I’m there for another five hours talking with her and her husband Brian about real things, things that matter. 

 

I think those are the conversations worth having, the ones that will lead to change.  I imagine it’s a conversation like that which leads to, “You know, I think we can provide an excellent education for all kids in rural North Carolina.  Let’s do it.  Let’s start now.”

 

But it’s a process.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Change is happening, in small ways, though. 

 

 

Ryan was a kid who hated school, who was defiant, who knew the right choices to make but chose to make the bad choices.

 

Text from Ryan's dad

 

 

 

 

 

David was a kid who struggled to pay attention, to follow directions, to show self-control.  At times, my ratio of negative to positive interactions with him was way too high.  

 

Picture of David dressed up as someone for whom he is thankful (Mr. Brock)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nicholas was a kid who struggled to make good choices and show his self-control.  We're not there yet, but we're working on it.  Like David, my ratio of negative to positive interactions with him and his family has been way too high at times, so high that I was afraid that they may not feel like I'm on Nicholas' team, giving him the benefit of the doubt, those things.  

 

Text from Nicholas' mom

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So change is happening at a small level, at least.  As I've said before, probably the most important things (successes, conversations, etc.) start as those things which we think are small at the time..