Hey Coach!

As a girl growing up in the 70s, sports weren’t necessarily a part of my life.  I’m not saying that girls’ sports weren’t available, but it wasn’t like today.  Now, almost every traditionally “boy” sport is available to girls in some capacity. But, back then, I just considered myself not right for sports.  

So, I never grew up with any real context for the role of a coach.  I mean, sure, I would occasionally see sports on TV (my dad was notorious for putting football on and falling asleep on the couch) and once I went to a Cub’s game with my jr. high school class.  

Okay, so my experiences with sports were very, very limited.  (It’s sort of embarrassing.)

But having a coach, or being a coach, in sports, typically has a very positive connotation.  My husband’s father still works as a football coach, even in retirement.  And my husband, Pete, remembers his coaches; mostly with fondness, but sometimes not.  However, regardless of his opinion of the coaches in his life, he learned a great deal from all of these men.  

There is a camaraderie around coaching in sports.  There are slaps on the back and shouts of encouragement.  There are speeches in locker rooms and one-on-one moments to encourage and teach and motivate.  There is truth, sometimes frustration, and anger.  But, often there is joy.  There is always gratitude.  

“Hey, coach,” an athlete might say after a game, “Thanks.” (cue the moment of teariness for the men watching, the quick eye rub to erase all evidence).  

So, it is with some pause, that I call myself a coach.  I am certainly not the “speech in locker room” kind of coach, but I have my moments. My game is literacy; reading, writing, thinking, all things language and learning.  

However, when I take a moment and think deeply about the word “coach,” and how it is viewed in school settings, I must take an even longer pause.  

Because, often, the role of literacy coach is not perceived with the same back-slapping camaraderie as a sports coach.  Often backs are turned and doors are closed as the literacy coach walks down the hallway of the school.   

Sometimes, I wish that someone would call out, “Hey Coach!”  

They might say, “Hey, coach of reading! Of literacy!  Let’s start working on this game right now.  It’s the most important game of all.  My players are ready to read. To write, and think and talk. To learn. What can you do it help all of us have our best game yet?” 

Because the same moments that make coaching a sport so beneficial for everyone involved, can happen with teachers in their classrooms.  The same spirit of collaboration, joy and gratitude should be a part of coaching an educator as they refine their practice and grow in reflection.  

The big moments, the “speeches”, in professional development sessions can help build common language and start important conversations.  

The “practices, the scrimmages”: the approximations in the classroom build engagement and a spirit of innovation and reflection.   They start the process of experiencing small changes in instructional practices that ultimately benefit teachers and students in big ways.

The small moments, the one-on-one moments, of being frustrated, even angry, can ultimately building better teaching by encouraging us all to learn together.  To trust one another.  Allowing us to take chances and speak the truth.  

Through coaching and teacher relationships, we can try on new teaching strategies together and then look to see how they impact student learning. We can work together to make the teaching and learning even better.

Coaching.  Sports or literacy.  It can change the way the game works for everyone involved.

Then comes the joy.  The gratitude.  The child, who wouldn’t read, couldn’t read, who now sits and reads and smiles and says, “Hey, teacher!  Hey, coach! Thanks. ”

I know we can do it.  Teachers and coaches can work collaboratively to all learn more, to be stronger teachers of all things literacy.  We can do it, together.