Mic Drops are supposed to be good. They’re supposed to inspire a jaw-dropping “whoa!” response from the audience. Ideally, they deliver a happy punch laced with a little snicker. “Did you hear?!” “Did you see?!” There has to be a foundation of intelligence behind a good mic drop; an awareness of audience and a disciplined delivery.
But @awebb and I weren’t overly happy with the mic drop at our Grade 9 Retreat in November. It left us with that “oh wow, you’re right and that sucks” feeling that we wished we had named and labelled months ago.
As a team, we walked through an activity that asked each person to put stickers on a timeline of our six months together. The stickers represented personal growth, moments where we hit the 4 C’s (collaboration, creativity, critical thinking and communication) and general times that just “felt right”. Our final product was awesome. We were able to step back and be overwhelmed by what we have accomplished so far. We laughed when we reflected on some of the crazy moments and shared anecdotes that started with “remember when…?”
It felt wonderful. I felt so lucky to be with these people and to have this opportunity to try something new.
And then my beloved colleague AJ said “here’s the thing…if we stopped doing all of this tomorrow, would anyone besides us care?”
Mic drop with technical damage. Ouch.
We talked about this for a long time. About how we have changed as educators and how important that is for us. But the reality of our situation is that we are trying to run a program that doesn’t yet have a supportive structure around it beyond the classroom. It’s not that our program is unwanted, it’s that it is unknown. This gives us a new direction with our action plan but requires a certain amount of faith and encouragement to move forward. How do we continue to build a program that is engrained within the fabric of the school when there isn’t yet a place for it to be?