Halo

10.21.10 By Kellyanne Mahoney

You are an island of hope. 

Breakfast captain?

Sure.

Are you able to join the ILT this year? 

Well, I really enjoyed last year’s professional development and would be interested in helping to plan this year’s agenda.

How about serving as the leader of your cluster?

It would be an honor.

This reminds me, since you will already be taking graduate classes as part of your “Teacher Leader” training, why don’t you apply to become part of the district’s Teacher Leadership Resource Team and help design the classes you will be taking?

That seems to make perfect sense. 

We are looking for a third coach for the debate team, and we think you would be perfect…

If you can’t find someone else—okay. 

We need a new placement for one of our Residents, can you help out?

The “BTR halo” is one of the first talking points my new Resident and I cover as we acquaint ourselves to one another. I feel a bit like Obi Wan revealing to the reluctant Luke the grave responsibilities that come with the Force. My former resident, who now teaches at BLA, drew the halo around his head with his finger after we exchanged knowing glances at the first, afterschool planning meeting for BLA’s slated series of community book talks surrounding our common nonfiction summer reading, “Strength in What Remains.” A few minutes later I volunteered to lead students in creating a 10 by 20 foot public mural commemorating the protagonist’s upcoming visit to our school in February. 

I actually bring up the halo to my Resident partly out of my own guilt over having to leave her for a few minutes on her first day, so that I can meet up with our art teacher to discuss the logistics of the mural project. This is a cautionary tale, I warn: Even if your headmaster and colleagues are unaware of your allegiances to BTR, the halo is always there. You can’t hide it. I then proudly add that I did in fact decline the role of breakfast captain this year.

How do you juggle all these responsibilities?

I am not sure. We’ll see I guess. This year is definitely an extreme example in terms of formal obligations. I tell the story of when I candidly asked this question when I was a Resident at my BTR portfolio presentation panel. More specifically: How am I going to be able to manage a classroom of 28 children by myself when I can barely do it this year with two adults in the room?

My site director’s reply was equally straightforward: You are not by yourself. You are in a room of 28 children.

This, my sixth year of teaching, I now see myself more so as in a building of 1,900 children—probably half of whom I now personally know. With each new responsibility I take on, I think about what part they can play in assisting to make it happen—even if it is something as small as collating and stapling papers or creating a bulletin board. And this feeling is starting to extend even beyond the walls of BLA. This past weekend I spent two days coaching our first inter-mural debate tournament. There I passed along some constructive notes to a Brighton High student I had observed for two rounds and later escorted another team’s freshmen to a Commonwealth Ave T stop after decoding their loud, cantankerous swagger as, “I’m scared. It’s night time, and I’ve never ridden on the Green Line before.”

Will you continue to contribute to the BTR blog this year?

I will try my best. This was actually meant to be a prelude to an apology I was about to write for re-purposing my Teacher Leadership Resource Team essays into a blog entry. I never made it to that step. I hope this will suffice instead.

more from Kellyanne Mahoney on the blog