A+Whole+New+Ballgame

by Mark Ray November, 2011

I'm warming up my pitching arm.

One of the traditional public relations opportunities for the Washington State Teacher of the Year is the chance to throw out the first pitch at a Seattle Mariners game. I already have three pitching coaches lined up, including a player on my boys tennis team who has pitched for the Skyview Storm. I plan to begin throwing in January in the basement at my high school in between wrestling practices. Over-preparation? I don't think so.

a. Not everyone gets to throw out first pitches at major league baseball games. b. It is very rare indeed that a librarian throws out a first pitch. (Although I've heard Nancy Pearl had a mean slider in her day.) c. A wan toss will not represent anyone well (except perhaps the Mariners' bullpen). d. Perception is everything.

I want to make the catcher's mitt pop, audibly. I want the murmur in the crowd to be "that librarian has got some heat." In the context of baseball only, I want to be compared to George W. Bush, not President Obama. (Obama's got game on the hardwoods if not the pitcher's mound.) I want the YouTube video (and therefore posterity) to be a 'shot of the day' not a blooper. It's not vanity. It's public relations.

This is an elevator speech writ large, not in the company of teachers and principals, but in the company of voters, citizens, parents and the 90-some percentage of the world not connected to education. As a teacher of the year, I have been given an opportunity and challenge to make an impact with state and national lawmakers, school boards, parent groups, and yes, even listeners to country western radio stations. As a teacher librarian, I have an opportunity to change perceptions or, in many cases, inform the public that there is such a thing as a teacher librarian and that not every school library has been paved over and replaced by a Barnes and Noble. A 70 mph fastball will not save school libraries. But it will be another opportunity to put a librarian on the mound and put 'teacher librarian' on the Jumbotron.

In the six or so heady weeks since I was recognized by the State of Washington, I have already been throwing pitches in a variety of settings--to members of Congress, to the State Board of Education, to community leaders and to the press. Every time, I make a point to make the mitt pop. Because in the rarefied world of decision-makers, you get only one pitch. I have learned this in my two days in Washington, D.C., my five minutes talking with radio personalities, and my 800-some words that were published in the Seattle Times.

Unlike the world of education where we seem to get second, third and fourth chances to make our point, get the memo, and attend the meeting(s), Decision-makers give you just one chance. You better be on time, you better look the part, you better hit your bullet points and you better be better than they expect you to be. Before I became a TOY, I believed this is principle in my work with district administration and local community leaders. In my interviews for the teacher of the year, that's what I planned and prepared for. And in the weeks since then, that's the way I approach every presentation or meeting with an external party.

The lesson learned is that we can all bring our game up. In an upcoming article in Teacher Librarian, I focus on several strategies for advocacy and public relations--if you will, ways to train for //your// first pitches.
 * We need to keep things simple. That means a one-page executive summary or a three-bullet elevator speech.
 * We need to focus on student learning and teaching. That means we teach first and librarian second.
 * We need to connect to ideas, initiatives and individuals that are larger than libraries.
 * And that means we need to learn to play well with others.

This is why I will begin spring training in a few months. And why I'm already working on my change-ups and curve balls. Because my game has already, unexpectedly, gone to the big leagues. And for the sake of education, my colleagues and my profession, I have no choice but to throw some strikes.