January 1, 2010
Happy New Year! As educators, we find this statement interesting. After all, our 'New Year' begins in September. Yet, having a short break this time of year does offer us an opportunity to return to school rejuvenated and with a bit of a fresh start.
I was renewing myself with a walk the other day when I came upon a covey (group) of quail. Six adults ran across the road, followed closely behind by three tiny ones, each baby about the size of a walnut. As I watched, the adults leaped from the road up onto the curb of the sidewalk and then ran off into the plants. Two of the little ones copied the adults perfectly. Alas, one little bird got to the curb, took a jump, made it about half way up and then promptly fell back down. He took a couple of tiny steps back, got a running start and did his best leaping, only to find himself, yet again, on his back at the edge of the road. He shook his head, seemingly contemplating the enormous boundary which separated him from the rest of the group. With a tenacity that was both inspiring and humbling to watch, he tried again and again, each time coming up short.
The group continued to scuttle away; apparently oblivious to the fact that one of their own had been left behind. After a few more failed attempts, the little quail began to chirp quite shrilly. I was delighted when his cry for help prompted one of the adults to return to him at once. The adult jumped down off the curb, nudged the baby as if to say 'pay attention here' and popped back up, modeling how the task was to be done. The little bird tried again to no avail. At last the adult bent down and through bumping and supporting, helped the little one achieve his goal of getting up the curb so he could join the rest of the group.
As I pondered what I'd witnessed, I couldn't help but think of what January is like for teachers. It's a time of year when we see so many of our students really take off, independently utilizing the skills and strategies we've been modeling over and over. Yet, others are like this little quail, who despite his best efforts, just wasn't mature enough or skilled enough to master the task at hand. It's those strugglers we must rescue by stopping, going back, modeling and providing whatever support is necessary to get them over their curb. I know they can do it. A little bird told me.