Jack and the Bureaucratic Process

Jack be nimble,

Jack be quick,

Jack jump over the candlestick.

Jack be patient,

Jack regroups,

While Jack jumps through the seemingly endless bureaucratic hoops.

So that last line killed the cadence a little bit, but that’s my story. I like to think of myself as Jack: nimble, quick, and avoiding dangerous fires. By nature, I am a problem-solver, so when presented with an issue or concern, I work expeditiously to get it solved. When some teachers on my campus expressed a need for personalized grammar instruction for their students (PROBLEM!), I was all over it.

In the fall, I was hoping to integrate the program No Red Ink (www.noredink.com) (SOLUTION!). I did the ground work, pitched it to the English teachers, talked to the folks at No Red Ink, and then met with my principal about the cost. That conversation went so well, and we mutually agreed that we would abandon No Red Ink due to creative differences ($$$).

My work in trying to make No Red Ink happen lasted about three weeks. Considering time and energy spent, that’s a solid investment in something that turned out to be a total bust. Let’s go ahead and refer to this incident form here on out as BF1 (bureaucratic failure 1).

I would love to wallow in my failure, but my solution-oriented brain kept reminding me I had a problem to solve. I did research, talked to folks, and found an alternative to No Red Ink: Quill (www.quill.org) (SOLUTION!). There is a ton of functionality in the free version of the program, and the full version had a much more reasonable price tag. I didn’t know anyone who had actually used Quill, so I decided to set up a pilot on my campus with one class. I found an enthusiastic volunteer, and it was off to the races!

In the program, students take a diagnostic grammar assessment, and based on the results, their teacher can assign them learning modules. The first thing I needed to do with my pilot class was have them create accounts. I put together a quick Google Slides presentation to guide them through that process, visited the class, and took care of that step. The teacher and I scheduled a day the following week for the students to take the diagnostic assessment.

On the day of the diagnostic, the students logged in with no issues (which is a miracle in itself), clicked to launch the diagnostic, and… NOTHING HAPPENED. The browser window went blank, and the test didn’t load. Turns out our district firewall settings blocked a script the site needed in order to launch the test. WHY WOULD THE DISTRICT DO THIS TO ME?!?!?!

Oh wait. I failed to submit a request for a new technology to be approved for student use. And this, my friends, is BF2.

After a little grumbling under my breath, I went through the appropriate channels, and Quill is ready for use. We haven’t administered the diagnostic yet, but it is scheduled, and I’m sure it’s going to be a wild success and revolutionize the way we approach grammar.

Maybe.

But maybe not. There may be other pieces to the bureaucratic puzzle that I didn’t even realize were missing. And if (when) that happens, I’ll channel my Zen state, find an alternative, and continue my pursuit.

Jack is relaxed,

Jack understands,

That some things are really out of Jack’s hands.