Here, then, is what happens prior to the fateful call to the media. The reason I can’t reveal it is because there is only one individual in a system trusted with knowing the secret code, and it isn’t me.)
#How to get the secret scenes snow daze code
(Example: I can’t reveal the code we use to call radio and television stations. It’s not for the faint of heart, and some material is being withheld for reasons of national security.
#How to get the secret scenes snow daze professional
The steady popularity of books about the Cuban Missile Crisis suggests that the public is in some way fascinated by the detailed anatomy of critical decisions, so I feel justified in lifting the curtain of professional discretion and providing a behind the scenes look at the hows, whys, and whens of the snow day decision-making process. I’ve got to call it off,”to which she responded “Bob, lift the shade.” At his retirement party, his wife told a story about him staring out of his window on a winter’s night, phone at the ready to make the fateful call, and saying “Honey, it’s pure white out there. The man would break out in hives when a low pressure area developed off the coast of Seattle, because he knew in a matter of days it could turn into a blizzard here on the east coast. You couldn’t really even joke around with him about the subject. (I’m feeling even more ill.) I once worked for a Superintendent who truly hated facing decisions about snow days.
Imagine if the worth of your entire career were measured by decisions you had to make, alone, at four in the morning, with limited information, that involved assessing risks to children. Far and wide, across the land, Superintendents are known by hundreds and hundreds of thousands of students and parents only by virtue of being the Oz-like figure behind the curtain who calls snow days, and is otherwise a complete cipher. A year or so ago, I had occasion to attend a meeting with the now-embattled Larry Summers and several of my colleagues, and he mentioned that throughout his entire elementary and secondary educational career, his only impression of, and judgment about, the school Superintendent had to do with decisions the guy made about snow days. In fact, it’s the only thing most people think of us at all.
It also determines what everyone else thinks of us. It is how we measure each other, and ourselves. How we handle this decision reveals what we are made of. This is because among the hundreds of critical decisions we make on a weekly basis, calling off school for a snow day is as Mt Everest is to the gentle slopes of Blue Hill. We continue to keep half an eye on budgets, test scores, and policies, but the other eye and a half is firmly fixed on the weather map. In winter, there is only one thing that Superintendents think about. Published in the Boston Globe, circa 2000
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