If you are a part of the Cecil Floyd family, you must know how fortunate we all are to have Chris Bozarth as our principal. With my 16-year-old daughter in the hospital, this week, and so many uncertainties about her condition, Principal Bozarth has proven to be a tremendous support. He has a mature wisdom that allows him to quickly adapt to a situation.
On Tuesday, upon awakening, we made the decision to take my daughter to Children's Mercy in Kansas City. Before the trip, something compelled me to visit the school and my classroom first. I had no lesson plans prepared that a substitute could use, but that did not make a difference to my grade level team or to our leadership. When I walked to the office, our principal had just arrived. He quickly shuffled me into his office, shut the door, and was confronted with all of my uncontrolled emotions.
As I often do, I had already played the scene in my brain, and at no time did it play out without sobs and tears. I sat down and put my head on the table in the crook of an arm. You, Cecil Floyd family, must know what a supportive man we have in the top spot at our school. He did not miss a beat in pulling a chair alongside me and putting a hand on my back. He allowed me to cry out loud and pour out my worries and innermost thoughts. Knowing where my faith lies, he prayed with me and shared scripture.
I just needed the contact and wisdom, and I knew Mr. Bozarth would be easily accessible and readily willing to take as much time with me as I needed. Before I left, we shared an embrace and he told me he loved me. I definitely felt better at the end of our meeting than at the beginning.
And now you know.
I hesitated to share this story here, and I kept things very general in the interest of not getting emotional as I wrote it, but I also know that great achievement needs to be recognized. Too often in education, we measure achievement in scales and graphs. Too often do we consider percentiles and lexiles, without considering the human element. Mr. Bozarth is that human element, and I know his concern care extends beyond the school walls and far beyond earth's atmosphere. I thank God that this man is in this place at this time. For me.
On Tuesday, upon awakening, we made the decision to take my daughter to Children's Mercy in Kansas City. Before the trip, something compelled me to visit the school and my classroom first. I had no lesson plans prepared that a substitute could use, but that did not make a difference to my grade level team or to our leadership. When I walked to the office, our principal had just arrived. He quickly shuffled me into his office, shut the door, and was confronted with all of my uncontrolled emotions.
As I often do, I had already played the scene in my brain, and at no time did it play out without sobs and tears. I sat down and put my head on the table in the crook of an arm. You, Cecil Floyd family, must know what a supportive man we have in the top spot at our school. He did not miss a beat in pulling a chair alongside me and putting a hand on my back. He allowed me to cry out loud and pour out my worries and innermost thoughts. Knowing where my faith lies, he prayed with me and shared scripture.
I just needed the contact and wisdom, and I knew Mr. Bozarth would be easily accessible and readily willing to take as much time with me as I needed. Before I left, we shared an embrace and he told me he loved me. I definitely felt better at the end of our meeting than at the beginning.
And now you know.
I hesitated to share this story here, and I kept things very general in the interest of not getting emotional as I wrote it, but I also know that great achievement needs to be recognized. Too often in education, we measure achievement in scales and graphs. Too often do we consider percentiles and lexiles, without considering the human element. Mr. Bozarth is that human element, and I know his concern care extends beyond the school walls and far beyond earth's atmosphere. I thank God that this man is in this place at this time. For me.
