Losing Students

Losing makes me ache: my stomach gets all knotted, my jaw clenches, I avoid eye contact, I keep to myself.

I don't like to lose. Intellectually I understand that there are important lessons to be learned from losing, but emotionally I hate losing.

I used to be a sore loser: when I was seven, I remember crying with frustration after not being able to beat my dad in checkers; when I was in high school, I remember punching holes through the sheetrock in my bedroom when I was dumped by my girlfriend for the drummer in a bad hair cover band; when I was coaching, I remember my partner telling me to get out of the house because she was sick of my pouting after a lost lacrosse game.

While over the years I have learned how to leaven my knee-jerk anger at losing, while I have come to understand and even appreciate the lessons that losing teaches (in fact, if it weren't for losing I don't think many of us would learn much of anything - much less the important lessons from which we take both solace and wisdom), the fact is that I still hate to lose.

Which is why losing a student - any student - makes me ache.

Intellectually I understand that there are two things on which exceptional schools pride themselves: challenging and supporting students, and fostering a sense of community in which individuals are valued for their creativity, their compassion, and their courage.

Intellectually I understand that what these schools value can only be realized when all members of their communities treat each other with respect; for the respectful relationships between individuals - between students and teachers, between students and students, and between teachers and families - is the foundation for all exceptional educational communities.

Intellectually I understand that when that respect is betrayed, communities suffer, and we are all forced to reflect on how best to regain that which best defines us.

Intellectually I understand that there are times when those reflections will lead us to make decisions that, while difficult, will ultimately lead to reinforcing the integrity of the community.

As an educational leader, I try to make these decisions as deliberately as possible, and I try to make them as justly as possible.

I try not to lose sight of why I teach, what I teach, and how I teach.

I try not lose sight of honoring all the successful students, students who are creative and respectful, students who are passionate, and students who struggle yet who take pride in who they are and what they do and how they do it.

I try to remember that exceptional schools have high expectations, and if those schools are to value respect, trust, and accountability, there will be times when educational leaders will need to make difficult decisions for the best of our respective communities - who we are and who we strive to be.

I try to remember that one of the reasons I teach is to ensure that my students are compassionate and courageous, that they have the confidence to stand up for themselves, and that they do the right thing when faced with a variety of choices.

And I take some solace in reminding myself that one of the things that educators do best in exceptional educational communities is to care deeply about students.

But I still hate losing . . . and losing a student - any student - still makes me ache.

--Steve McKibben
5/24/07