Back in the day, I spent a lot of time at CheapSkates, the skate shop in my hometown of New Lynn, Auckland, New Zealand. Shoppers came in and out of the store, but I would spend hours there daydreaming about being a skaterâeven though I was, at best, an average skater. After looking at boards, stickers, and clothes, I would head to the back of the shop where there was a couch and TV that was playing homemade skate movies. Sometimes other kids would be playing skateboarding video games, but I loved watching those videos. I aspired to be like the skaters I saw doing tricks on the screen.
Although I played a lot of standard sports, like softball and rugby, it was the âalternativeâ sports that called to me: skating, surfing, and rock climbing. I would spend hours reading and watching videos and magazines about surfing and skateboarding. I can still remember watching the very first X Games in 1995. I was hooked! I couldnât get enough of movies like Endless Summer and the inspiration I would draw from watching the crazy adventures that could be had from traveling the world. All I could think about was how that could be me traveling the world, surfing, and skating my way around, having fun, going on adventures! Through the years, skateboarding remained part of my life. I loved riding my board on the streetsâeven as an adult. (I canât tell you how many âNo Skateboardingâ signs I have ignored.)
In my fourth year of teaching, I organized a skateboarding show at the Laingholm Primary School in West Auckland, New Zealand, where I worked. West Auckland is a beautiful location on the West Coast, nestled just outside of the city, a sanctuary known for its beaches away from the hustle and bustle of the city. I had a connection with some of the local skaters and the skate shop, and I arranged for them to bring some equipment, so they could free skate and pop tricks while students watched. Some of the more experienced teachers thought the event would be a complete waste of time. They complained that it was unacceptable to have these âbad kids coming up to school and running roughshod over the playground area.â
As it turned out, everyone had a blast.
The skaters thought that putting on a show, complete with loud music and half pipes, was the coolest thing ever. The teachers enjoyed the extra time in the fresh air. And the students oooed and ahhed as they watched the skate team do their thing. More than just being a great time, the event modeled for the students that they could be anything they wanted to be. This out-of-the-norm experience sparked connections and helped us build relationships with our students. It reminded us of the power that authentic and relevant learning experiences have for enhancing student engagement and ownership of learning. And by inviting the skaters to school, we advocated for all students. We sent a message that students donât hear enough: You can pursue any and all activities your heart desires.
That message is an essential one for students to hear. Unfortunately, the message they hear far more often comes from the âNo Skateboarding Allowedâ signs that hang on the fences and buildings at almost every school. I realize those signs are there for insurance and health and safety purposes, but what they tell students is that certain activitiesâand more to the point, peopleâare not acceptable at school.
That event early in my career set the stage for the kind of educator I would become. Eventually, I developed the reputation as the ârelentless, tattooed, skateboarding principal.â And it all started with my love affair with skateboarding and extreme sports.
Backpacking Adventures
All the while, I had been sleeping on a mattress on the floor of the house that I grew up in. I was attempting to renovate the house so I could sell it, and I and was consumed by dust, varnish, and paint fumes. I was struggling to maintain any form of balance when my best friend, Jason Ng, who was working with the schoolâs board at the time, visited, and said, âEnough is enough! You are coming home with me.â I credit Jason. I his wife, Sue, with saving my life. They took me in and helped me get myself going in the right direction.
Teaching had been what I trained for and what I had done, but after five years, I needed a change. I quit my job as an elementary teacher. In keeping with my way of doing things a little differently (and having fun), I wrote my principal a resignation letter in the format of a retirement letter, explaining that I was retiring so that I could do the traveling I had dreamed about for so long. In reality, setting out on that adventure was my way of trying to figure myself out and deal with the issues and demons from my past.
I had spent a great deal of time working on my rock-climbing skills, training with Jason and had grown accomplished at lead rope climbing, which is where you carry up your own rope and hook into anchors as you climb. I crashed at my brother Cameronâs pad in Brisbane, Australia, for a few months after quitting my job and escaping from the mundane routines of life. One day while sitting in a cafĂ© at the beach reading a climbing magazine, I came across an article about a climbing trip to Thailand. Immediately I thought Iâm going to go do this. That very day, I bought a ticket to Thailand that would see me wheels up on a plane only a matter of days later. My plan was to go backpacking and rock climbing in Thailand just like the featured article in the magazine. (This was way before tourism really took off there . . . before the internet, and way before smartphones.) I arrived in Bangkokâaloneâwith a clear beginning destination in mind: Khao San Road, a well-known backpacking haven.
Unfortunately Khao San Road was not where I ended up. I found myself wandering the back streets of Bangkok, and I had never been so scared in my life. I thought I knew what being poor looked like. But it wasnât until I got lost in the ghetto in Bangkok that I really understood what it meant to live in poverty. I will never forget the smell of pollution or the sights of stray animals, prostitutes, trash piled everywhere, and people living in makeshift shelters no bigger than a cardboard box.
After twenty-four hours of no sleep, I finally found a safe location to rest. I tried to pull myself together, but my confidence was shot. I made my way to a shop that sold flights (no smartphones or internet, remember?) and booked the first flight home. There were no direct flights from Bangkok, so in my desperation to leave, I booked a trip with layovers in four different countries. It wasnât until after I purchased the ticket that it dawned on me that if I gave in to my fear and got on that flight, I would be running awayâgiving in. I realized that I would be allowing a bad experience to affect the way I wanted to live my life, which was with passion and purpose, not fear.
In life, we always have at least a couple of choices. I knew I could quit and go home, or I could pick myself up, dust myself off, and get on with the trip. I went with the latter and ended up skipping out on my tickets home. I still wanted to get out of Bangkok as soon as possible, so I booked a trip just outside the city to collect myself. That trip ended up going on for a number of weeks, and I had a blast. I put the location I had planned on climbing at on the back burner after I learned about an even better location, Railay Beach, from another backpacker I met on the trip. One hand-drawn map and an overnight bus later, and I had made it! The location was spectacular, and the climbing was even better. I knew I was a pretty good climber, but after watching the people around me, I realized I had entered a new league with some of the best climbers in the world in a place where the beauty made my head spin.
Living in an open-air hut with no running water never felt so good! I would go down each day with my bar of soap to bathe in the ocean water. We would climb in the morning and late-afternoon, as it was too hot during the middle of the day. And we spent the evenings partying under the glow of the moon and burning torches. Letting go, I experienced all that life had to offer, not needing to be anywhereâno schedules, no expectations, and no worrying about the clock. Living out of a backpack on the road gave me the solitude and freedom I had longed forâthe solitude gave me a place to reflect and think where no one knew me or expected anything of me. It was liberating. For the first time in my life, I began to free myself of the demons that followed me everywhere.
Backpacking can be compared to the craft of teaching on so many levels: The creativity that goes into planning and preparing for an engaging, authentic travel experience is similar to that of preparing for instruction. The experiences we create inside our classrooms should draw on the same sense of wonder, excitement, and energy we feel when traveling. Along the way, weâand our learnersâcan explore, problem-solve, and think critically through the situations we encounter on the learning journey. And just as travel gives us opportunities to collaborate and communicate across cultures, communities, and borders, technology provides similar opportunities for the students in our classrooms.
Traveling the world, living out of a backpack for the better part of a year, and experiencing the freedom to make instant decisions based on my passions and interests were an amazing opportunityâone that I feel honored to have enjoyed. Some of our students may feel as if they are living their lives out of a backpackâbut their reality doesnât hold the same kind of thrill. Those who come from different countries or cities may feel displaced rather than lucky to travel the world or country. Their families may have moved to survive (physically, financially, or both) rather than to follow passions or dreams. The stories Iâve heard from so many students through the years have taught me about true sacrifice, pain, trauma, and endurance, and they inspire me to be the difference for children each and every day! Just know when you look in the eyes of a student, donât assume you know; donât assume everything is okay and has been easy. So many of our students have lived such a full life that they make ours look pedestrian by comparison.
Why Not?While backpacking in Thailand, I formed a friendship with a local Thai guy who went by the name of âBing,â and we spent a number of days climbing together. He showed me around the area, and we spent a great deal of time talking about lifeâwhich is what you do when you backpack around with total strangers. As we chatted, I shared my frustration of archaic practices in education and my desire to change the game, disrupt the norm, and ultimately make a bigger difference in the world and in education.I firmly believe that people come in and out of our lives for reasons that we may or may not understand in the moment; there are seasons in life. That was the case with this friendship. It only lasted a few days, but the lessons Bing taught me have stayed with me and have influenced the way I teach and lead. One of those lessons was to ask a simple question: Why not?Hereâs how asking why not? continues to influence my work today: When considering a decision, I encourage people to give the green light for teachers and students to take risks and try things because Why not?! Every time a teacher or group of teachers come to me with an idea, my answer would be, âOkay, why not? Letâs go!â In the work we do, unless an idea is negligent or unsafe, thereâs nothing we really canât or shouldnât try to ensure that our students receive an amazing, authentic, and relevant educational experience. As adults, we tend to play it safe or take the easier route, when maybe we should be throwing caution to the wind in the spirit of why not?!
The Power of Sharing Our Passions
Even though I wanted to, you canât travel the world forever. While it would have been nice, my bank account couldnât support it! That being said, I was able to merge my two passions of teaching and traveling together by joining a culture exchange program for teachers through VIF (the Visiting International Faculty program). In 2003, I hung up my backpack in the state of Virginia and returned to the classroom. I felt a renewed sense of passion and purpose, and I wanted to share that feeling with students and other educators. Iâve been in education for over twenty years, teaching and serving as a principal, and most of that time, Iâve been known as the one who rides some version of a wheeled contraption around campus. (You should have seen the time I three-wheeled it down the two-story ramps in one of my elementary schools!) I never outgrew my love of skateboarding, and my passion for it has served me well in multiple ways.
At my current school, our facility is so spread out with long, imposing corridors. It seemed to take an eternity for me to walk from one end to the other. Instead of racking up the steps my first summer there, I decided to bring my longboard in and cruise down the corridors. Besides saving me time, it was fun! My staff noticed, and they loved that their principal was operating out of the box. They also thought our middle school students would be impressed. So, that summer, I tested their theory by skating to any meeting with a new student who would be joining us that fall.
Side note: I believe that, regardless of the age of the students, the principal should welcome every new parent and student to the school. This first meeting sends such an important message to all the stakeholders. It lets parents know I care about their children. Taking time to meet with the students lets them know that I think they are important. And beyond that, those one-on-one meetings give me the opportunity to tell the narrative for our school, including what my expectations are.
Every time I rode up on my board to greet the parents and students, they lit up when they saw me. Clearly, it was not what they expected. They immediately felt right at home and comfortable with me and, as a result, with the school. So with the initial control testing finished, once school started, I decided that I would continue to skate in the hallways with the students aroundâan incredibly bad move during the first days of school. I became the disruption, and my actions reminded me again that we must model and build the expectation for the students. Seeing the principal ride around in school on a skateboard was a shockâand maybe something I should have warned them ...