It’s two years ago this week that I had a life-threatening bike accident, and I’m feeling a bit nostalgic as I look back on all that has happened since then.
Many of you will recall that the 2006-2007 school year started with a bang – we kicked off the year with our first all-employee celebration in more than a decade. It seemed like our whole district was fired up as we left the “Connecting the Dots” celebration that day, recommitted to using the “power of 6,000” to transform our school district so that each and every student receives a world-class education. In my comments that morning, I shared with you that I was turning 55 that year and had begun to think about the fact that we have limited time left to leave a mark on the world. I had no idea how prophetic those words were.
On a beautiful Sunday afternoon, nearly at the end of a 28-mile ride past scenic Kentucky horse farms, I lost my balance while fiddling with my water bottle, and my bike toppled to the pavement. I broke my collarbone, several ribs and my right hand, and shattered my pelvis. Though my helmet cracked in three places, I suffered no head trauma. I was hospitalized for nearly a month, had six surgeries and battled a serious secondary staph infection. I missed work for three months while I fought to live and learned to walk and care for myself again. When I returned in January, I was still in a wheelchair and worked partial days while I kept up a strict physical and occupational therapy regimen.
From the time I was in the emergency room to the time I returned to work, the outpouring of love and support from our community was phenomenal. I received more than 1,000 cards and letters, nearly 600 people posted well-wishes on our district Web site, and our family was showered with gifts, flowers and food. Dozens of churches and temples placed me on their prayer lists. One snowy morning, a pair of high school students came by to shovel our driveway. Another student, who is autistic, decided he wanted to visit me while I was at home and did that on a couple of occasions with his mom, and we got to be good friends. He even cooked dinner for me one night! The love that our school district family and community showered Kathy and me with has truly changed my life forever. I had always felt Lexington was a wonderful place, but I was completely overwhelmed by the personal care and concern so many of you showed for us.
Many of you know that I’m a “Poppo” now … our just turned 1-year-old granddaughter Allie spends her days in our home with my wife, Kathy, while her mommy works. The other day, Allie was riding a little three-wheeled plastic scooter that our elementary principals gave me as a joke while I was recovering in the hospital. Seeing her on my “Stu-debaker” (as the principals called it), triggers images for me of lying in the hospital bed, aching to be back at work and missing my daily interactions with kids, teachers and hard-working staff members.
The accident has changed my entire outlook on life, teaching me to be grateful for the little blessings in our daily lives. Things we take for granted – like showers, standing upright and enjoying a good night’s sleep – have taken on new meaning for me. I now focus even more time and attention on staff development, mentoring and leadership training; I’ve realized you have to pass along those kinds of things while you can, because you might not be here tomorrow. I have always believed the pace of the leader determines the speed of the pack and have a reputation as a workaholic. Since the wreck, I have an even more heightened sense of urgency, leading me to put more pressure on myself and encouraging our staff to achieve the district’s goal of improving student performance.
I’m proud to say that thanks to our amazing staff, students and community, our district has dramatically improved in the past two years. Our leadership team is stronger. We have the best school board our community has ever seen. Our principals are focused on academics like never before. Our teachers are finding creative and innovative ways to reach all kids. Our students are excelling. Our families and community are finding new ways to support our schools and stay involved with our kids. There are tangible, measurable gains in student achievement – before my accident, three Fayette County schools had reached 100 in CATS. This year, we have 19 schools beating that state benchmark. In 2006, 375 students earned distinguished marks on every subject tested. Last spring, we had more than 1,875 students distinguished in every area!
Many of you know I have pledged not to ride outside again until after I retire because I can’t imagine asking our community to understand if I were to have another accident. I know I have a responsibility to this whole community, but especially to our kids, and I refuse to let anything keep me from being a part of this incredible journey our district is on. Together, we will ensure that every student receives a world-class education, regardless of race, socio-economics, special need or other challenges. The power of 6,000 refers to the power that becomes possible when every single staff member is focused on helping kids achieve at high levels.
While we have made great gains in two years, there is still much to accomplish. We have turned our attention to our middle and high schools, where in some ways the challenge is greater. But we know what works. We know how to help all kids – the first step is believing in them. I heard a story the other day about a mid-career physical education teacher who was a little miffed when a younger staff member suggested that the kids run track. She admits that she balked, thinking, “They can’t do that.” But then she issued the challenge to her kids and was amazed to see them running far better than she thought they could. She shared her change of heart with the rest of her faculty the other day, concluding that kids will find ways to do whatever we ask of them and that the only limitations for kids are the ones adults impose.
I’d take that a step further. When I was in rehab at Cardinal Hill, I was amazed at the things that my fellow patients – young and old – were accomplishing. The human spirit is a phenomenal thing, and I am convinced that there is no barrier we cannot overcome together. Please join me in recommitting yourself to the vision of all kids achieving at high levels. We may need to come up with creative solutions. We may need to commit additional resources. We may have to work a few more hours. One thing is for sure – the power of 6,000 can make a difference for our kids.
