I was speaking with a friend the other day and we were rehashing the familiar challenges that come with the end of a school year. At the same time, there was a great change on the horizon for her work and she referenced that when learning about what may be coming, she found herself defaulting to the truth. This is an idea I first heard when reading Talking to Strangers, by Malcolm Gladwell. In short, the notion is that when meeting someone new or hearing something for the first time, most of us default to truth and the idea that what we are being told is honest. And possible.
Today marks 55 years since Bobby Kennedy was assassinated. And while I didn’t emerge on the scene until just over 12 months later, I have always heard of the promise that he brought to so many during an incredibly tumultuous time. He had his flaws and the scars he had earned certainly could have left him jaded, yet, from what I understand, he remained steadfast that our best days were still ahead.
While education and politics have certainly become more entangled, I remain optimistic that better days lay in front of us. I believe that the better argument in support of public education exists and it is our duty to find it and make it compelling to others. While I don’t know the full path forward, I do know that there are many people smarter than me out there grinding through all the noise, continuing to inquire and learn, and depending on all of us to sustain the needed effort.
For many years my default has been toward optimism and I’m grateful for the reminder of how buoyant we can become when offered hope.
Later she contrasts excuses vs reasons and I found this compelling for educators. Too often I think we offer, or at least entertain, excuses because that is often the path of least resistance. It’s always easier to look for a culprit rather then to look for a path forward. The students she spoke with seemed to understand that stuff happens. And when you opt to ask questions then you can reflect. And when you commit to reflect you find a solution or a next step. It is the act of choosing – making a decision – that matters.
This year I have established the Mad Cool Awards. Focused on recognizing innovative work that is happening on campus, adults have the chance to recognize really cool stuff that is happening on their campus. Realizing that innovation is simply taking something that already exists and making it better, I ask them to complete a Google Form that asks just a few simple questions. And I consistently include the link to this form at the beginning of meetings and as an extra piece every so often within an email.
While many of these remain aspirational – still no cot in my office – I do try and embrace the others when interacting with others (both while wearing my principal hat or my parent hat). And as a leader, I have literally and metaphorically grabbed on to this advice as it reminds me that at our core, each faculty and staff member made a decision to step in to a classroom or school where children are in need of so much. And often what they need, what we all need, is simply hope. The idea that things can be better. Complication does not usually inspire. Simplicity does.
A challenge I had to overcome was allowing myself to simply receive the compliment. Too often we deflect and say something like: “oh, it was my pleasure”, or “no, you are the one I should thank.” When we do that we steal from them a small piece of the joy they have for us. We rob them just a bit of the power that comes with recognizing another. I would recommend that, instead, we simply say, “Your words mean a lot. Thank you for taking the time to share them with me.” I know this is easier said than done however I have learned that those few words carry more power.
So as you sustain your effort through this fall semester and look toward the grind of the early spring, I hope that you will remember the power you have each day to positively impact a young person. Regardless of whether or not they find the right words to thank you, I am certain they appreciate what you do each day. Perhaps they will write a nice card or draw you a picture. Or maybe they will come in one morning to share something amazing their family did over the weekend. Or it will be a simple smile they offer, a “thanks” on the way out of class, or a nod in the hall. Regardless of the form it takes, work hard to not miss it. Because you are significant and they want you to know it.
Exploring Leadership 