A little background before I speak
about the Summer Institute of 2013.
On the night of my high school
graduation in 1970, a Thursday night, Dad gave me two of the best gifts that a
father could give his son. Dad handed me a crisp new one hundred dollar bill.
He had promised to cover my senior week expenses, and the crisp new bill let me
know that my expenses had limits. When I explained that the bill would only
last about three days, he agreed and explained that I had to be home by 2:00 AM
on the following Monday. A little puzzled by his reply, I asked Dad my usual
teen question, “Why?” The typical immediate response followed, “You have a
second gift; I got you a job at the dairy; you start with me at three o’clock
Monday morning; be sure that you’re home on time.”
After uneventful Friday and Saturday
nights, I rode the bus from Wildwood on Sunday afternoon. I had called Dad to
let him know that I would arrive in Philly somewhere around three in the
afternoon. He was waiting at the terminal. I was exhausted, and
after a quick early dinner, I went to bed, knowing that his voice would be
calling in less than eight hours. My first day at a real job patiently waited
for me.
The wake-up call came on time; I jumped
and dressed, knowing the Dad was never late for anything. During the
early ride out the Roosevelt Boulevard, I posed another question, “What will I
be doing on this job, Dad?” Dad offered immediate response number two slowly
and carefully so that I would understand the message and its meaning, “You will
do whatever the boss tells you to do.” On Tabor Road in the dark of early
morning, we entered the gates of the Sealtest Dairy parking lot.
At 3:00 AM, I found myself standing on
a wooden pallet on the right side of a metal, motorized track. Standing on his
pallet on the left side of the track, Dad, pressed the “On” button, and I saw
metal milk crates moving toward the two of us. Dad shouted, “Six stacks,
six cases high!” I had no idea what he meant, but
the track kept rolling the metal cases, each containing four plastic gallons of
milk, and I lost my breath on the fourth case that I picked up and put down on
the pallet. As I looked at Dad, I saw that he was taking two cases at a time,
one in each hand, and after three lifts, had formed his six stacks on the pallet.
With each lift, he had continued his pattern and did twice as much work as I
did. I was amazed at his strength and endurance as he allowed me to keep a
slower pace and take a short break when needed. He never turned the track off
until four hours later when all work stopped for lunch.
In the break room with all of the
men, Dad ate his lunch that Mom had prepared; I could not eat a thing because
every muscle in my body ached. I sat for a half hour in awe of my dad and the
other men who worked the tracks, and drove the forklifts to move and stack the
pallets with thirty-six cases holding 144 gallons of freshly pasteurized, cold
milk. As each of the men in the lunchroom introduced himself to me,
I learned about the deep respect that each man had for my father because of the
way that he worked. Then, each man asked if I would be working permanently or
going back to school. I blurted my immediate response, “I’ll start college in
September.” I saw Dad smile as each man looked at him and said, “You’ve got a smart
boy there, Fred; we’ll take care of him.”
Later, Steve Topper and Joe
Dougherty both asked how old I was as they moved pallets of milk to waiting
trailers. When I answered that I was eighteen, they roared with laughter. When
they told me that they were in their forties, I sarcastically offered a young
boy’s opinion and told them that anyone over thirty would do better in the
pasture milking the cows. We all had a laugh and continued our shift. Despite
my sarcasm and attitude, Steve and Joe took very good care of me for five
summers.
As Dad drove home from work at eleven
o’clock in the morning, I asked him if that was a typical day for him, working
the track and stacking cases. He replied that it was a typical Monday morning
for him, but other days would bring other responsibilities. Dad said that I
would not always work with him, but I would get a chance to work many different
jobs during my first summer. I asked Dad why he worked so hard; he told me that
bills had to be paid. With an older brother in the seminary and an older sister
in nursing school, I knew that Dad placed a value on education. I asked if he
could get an easier job in an office at the dairy because he was working so
strenuously at his age. Dad looked at me and said, “You can’t teach an old dog
new tricks.”
If Dad were alive today, he would see
that an old dog can learn a few new tricks.
Today, I began an adventure similar to
my first real job adventure. Along with eleven other younger teachers, I began
the summer Institute for teachers of Malvern Preparatory School. Five members
of the school's academic leadership team will work with us as we learn
and develop and hone the twenty-first century teaching skills that will make
our school stand out among other independent private schools for young men. As I glanced
around the tables, I saw young people wanting to improve their teaching by
learning about Augustinian Values and 21st Century Assessment skills. They were
eager; each had done his or her assigned readings; everyone had questions. As
the oldest person in the group, beginning my thirty-ninth year of teaching, I
waited for them to teach the old dog some new tricks. I felt welcome among this
group. I have shared many conversations with individual members as they began
and continue their teaching careers. Asking for advice from me and offering
advice to me, we have developed a great deal of respect for each other as educators who
are dedicated to the challenge of helping our students to interact with the
Truth. Today we started on our path of becoming critical friends for each
other, willing to bounce ideas with each other, knowing that we will view our individual
ideas as real and that each of us will be comfortable enough to
receive feedback that we will be mature enough to accept.
As a group, we prayed an Augustinian
Prayer for a Student or Teacher. We will fill both of these roles during our training We set our group values of Honesty, Humility,
Openness, Trust, Deliberateness to keep focus on skills that we can hone, and
an Awareness of each other's skills and their focus. Each of these values
will help us to become the critical friend that others will need as we continue
our training.
We discussed Augustine's thoughts about education and marveled at
the fact that we found ourselves agreeing with Augustine's thoughts. We debated
an article about a new essential curriculum for a new time, and we
demonstrated that our chosen values allowed for opinions that we offered, accepted,
and challenged. In small groups, we discussed assessments that we might use in
our classes, assessments that required more than simple short-term memory that
results from cramming the night before. We developed a simple real assessment
that required thought, explanation and application of skills learned. We
learned about essential questions and our leadership team challenged us to
develop essential questions that we might use in helping our students to
understand Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.
Our final charge,
placement in smaller cohorts with whom we will develop a Problem based or
Project based learning experience that will benefit our students. Our smaller
cohorts agreed to meet continually throughout the upcoming school year to
continue our critical friendships by learning, advising, and teaching each
other. We began our small group duties by discussing projects that we might design and develop to test our learned skills during training and during the upcoming school year.
This old dog will greatly enjoy learning some new tricks!
