Stop, Start, Continue: Reflecting on the Year That Was and My Year Ahead

Some stuff that needs to happen, and other stuff that needs to NOT.

Five years ago, I came across this tweet on Education X (then teacher Twitter).

@JustinTarte on X

Whatever your role in K-12 education, this is a reflection framework worth working through — right at the end of the school year before the dust has fully settled.

I’m in.

For context, I’m an elementary vice-principal (0.6) and teacher (0.4). It’s a fun mix, allowing me to take on leadership activities while still building relationships with 250 little people in classroom settings.

So with my 23rd year in K-12 education in the books, here goes.

Stop

1. Posting anonymous tweets about student misbehavior.

Immediately, a qualifier. It’s extremely rare that I share posts about student misbehavior — I think I only did so once in the last school year.

But wow, do I regret it.

In the fall of 2023 I posted a vague tweet on my teacher’s X account about something that two of our younger students had done outside of the school and after school hours.

I didn’t mention age, genders, or grade levels, and the tone of the post (now deleted, in case you’re looking for it) wasn’t one of ridicule — it was more of a lament along the lines of “I can’t believe this just happened.”

The comment didn’t get much engagement, and I didn’t think much of it.

Trouble came when I started following up on the situation in the coming week. One of the parents of the students involved in the after-school incident explored my social media feeds and discovered the tweet in question. The post was perceived as disrespectful (not my intention at all, but understandable) and unhelpful (completely valid).

I was shaken by the whole situation. My social media share had further aggravated an already-challenging situation that involved three sets of parents in conflicting positions. I was miserable with embarrassment and could only humbly apologize to these parents.

Eventually we were able to put the student incident behind us, but my lesson was learned. Unless I’m seeking input or advice from my virtual colleagues, I’ll never post about negative student incidents in this form again.

2. Cheating my body on sleep.

I wake up at 5am on most school day mornings with the intention of hitting the road by 5:30am. It’s a tried and true formula for beating the stress of traffic jams on my way from the suburbs into Vancouver. And the 2+ hours of quiet isolation (office lights low, anyone?) before the school day gets rolling has become precious to me.

Keeping that up with some semblance of health, however, requires 7+ hours in bed on school nights. Even better? Seven or more hours of actual sleep.

For me, that should mean starting my wind-down routine (including shutdown of all devices) at 9pm with the goal of getting in bed by 9:30, talking to my wife, reading my Kindle for 20 minutes or so, and falling asleep by 10.

It’s so easy to write that timeline, but with a packed inbox, overflowing task list, and projects due the next day, it’s oh-so-hard to shut my laptop at 9pm.

SO HARD.

Cut it out, Tim: if I want to stay in this game and keep my fire burning, I need to stop the strings of consecutive days with only 5–6 hours of sleep per night. That’s no good.

Start

1. Writing notes of gratitude and affirmation to a member of my staff team each morning.

I believe in the power and value of doing this as an administrator, and I’ve made some lame attempts at keeping it up as a daily practice over the last few years.

Very lame. I never seem to keep at it for long before falling off the train.

To actually maintain this consistently would not only let my teammates know their work is seen and appreciated; it would also push my mindset in healthy ways.

There are always things worth celebrating in our buildings, and this practice makes me more aware, more reflective, more grateful. It’s time to make it happen.

2. Visiting classrooms regularly.

There’s no sugar-coating this: my classroom visits were a disaster this year.

I always enjoy dropping into classrooms to see what the (good) fuss is about, to see what students are doing and learning, or to pick up a little friend in need of a check-in conversation.

So it’s not that I never get into classrooms at all. I do so almost every day.

What I’m talking about here is intentionally parking in a classroom for 30–45 minutes while I join in on student learning. I’m there not to critique but to partner, to enjoy, to take it all in.

I take a few informal observation notes, yes, but my purpose is to give the teacher some strengths-based feedback based on the great work I’m observing.

I need to be completing at least one of these per week. Have to.

And in case you’re wondering Tim, what the heck are you doing? I’ll say this.

On top of what often feels like an overwhelming task list, I felt a constant pressure this year to work on hiring more substitute teachers. Any hour in the week lost in that regard could mean another unfilled absence in the week ahead.

The reality of that tension will remain unavoidable for the foreseeable future. But I have to find a way.

3. Building more fun and laughter into our culture.

One of the core values that my principal speaks of often is the importance of laughter in our community. And I agree.

Laughter is a unifier, a trust-builder, and a vaccine against burnout. When we don’t hear laughter in our halls, we should be concerned.

Now don’t get me wrong — my community is a fun place, and not a day goes by without friendly smiles, fun stories in the staff room, and peals of laughter from the best laughers.

Every building has its all-star laughers, right? These are the ones whose belly laughs are so outrageous that you hear it down the hall and can’t help but crack a smile.

But I want to think about ways to get goofier, lighter, and encourage more giggles in our spaces. One way to make ground here, and this might strike you as weird: short form vertical videos.

I can think of a few colleagues that might be willing to partner with me there. For readers who enjoy the comic relief of Tik Tok and Instagram reels, you know what I’m talking about.

Let’s not take ourselves too seriously.

Continue

1. Maintaining a positive and visible presence in the building.

This means greeting our students at the doors as they enter the school in the mornings. Greeting them by name in the halls. Chatting them up while on supervision duty. Listening to their jokes. Learning about their passions. Giving fist bumps at the end of the week.

This is a part of the job that I LOVE and consider a privilege. It’s a key part of community culture and one that I think every administrator needs to take seriously.

Not a day goes by when students don’t make me smile and reaffirm my place in this work. They’re our WHY.

2. Amplifying staff and student voices on our elementary school podcast.

It took me a while to get going, but on January 27th I launched a new podcast for our elementary school. By school year’s end, I had recorded and published 14 episodes, each one featuring a mix of administrator, teacher, EA, and student voices from around our school.

I enjoy the editing work required to share this gift with our student community, and I’ve been consistently thanked by parents who tune in with their children in the car on the way to and from school. I’m looking forward to keeping the podcast going next year.

By the way, a school podcast is free to make and incredibly easy. One hundred percent of my content is recording on phones — no microphones. And it sounds great.

Create an account at Spotify for Podcasters to get started.

3. Regularly telling our school’s story of learning, life, and growth.

It was Rose Pillay who first gave me the term “good news gossip,” and I think that’s an important part of our role as administrators.

I took some good steps in this space last year: bulletin board displays, weekly TV displays, Instagram stories and posts about student learning, and five additions to a Seesaw Spotlight slide deck (intended to inspire teachers to use Seesaw to represent student learning more effectively).

This year, I’d like to continue to do all of the above — just do them better and more consistently.

4. Hiring more substitute teachers.

Over this past year I interviewed 21 individuals for the role of substitute teacher. Many of them were hired and remain with us for the coming school year.

I’m pretty happy with those numbers, partly because our hiring process is far from quick and easy. Once you’ve included first communications, interview, reference checks, criminal record checks, contract, and onboarding into account, the whole thing involves 25 touch points and takes weeks to complete.

Still, the specter of unfilled classrooms reared its ugly head far too many times this year. And every time it happens — when a teacher is absent and there’s no substitute in the wings — it’s incredibly stressful.

On this point, I’m incredibly grateful for the resource teachers, EAs, and CAs who graciously dropped their regular assignments to step into classroom teacher roles for the day (or portions of the day) when called upon. They are my superstars.

But the need for a reliable substitute teacher list never fades, since the best substitutes get calls from many schools and districts and often get hired away on short-term contracts. Sadly, it’s a revolving door.

5. Ending (almost) every day at Starbucks.

Ramit Sethi and Dave Ramsey would scold me for this, but ending each day with a fun beverage for the commute home is such a comfort.

After 23 years in the biz and with a 45-minute drive home each day, sipping on an iced coffee or fresh Pike (weather depending) is a reward I’m going to continue to allow myself.

Is this something you reward yourself with at day’s end?

Optimism for the year ahead

I’ve had the fun distinction of working with six principals in three schools over my last seven years in education. That’s been rich, good for my professional learning, and challenging as I’ve adjusted to new perspectives, approaches, and philosophies year after year.

In the 2023-2024 edition, my community faced the additional challenge of merging a middle school into a K-7 elementary school, and our administrative team had its hands full as we sought to define lanes, roles, efficiencies, responsibilities, and communication. There were many learning moments, but I’m proud of what we achieved together in the first year of this new chapter.

My school is incredibly blessed by passionate teachers, committed paraprofessionals, supportive parents, and the best students anywhere. In 2024–2025, I’m looking forward to a stable administrative team, clear expectations, and the opportunity for fresh iterations. There’s a lot to look forward to.

I hope you’re feeling similar optimism about the year to come, fellow educator.

Here’s to a refreshing summer.