Meteors


Sharing isn’t always easy.

This past week I was on vacation in Portland and after an excellent conversation, a good friend offered me some advice – that I should be sharing all the things I do with educators. I wrote about the power of focusing on the work, as opposed to self, so his comments left me reflecting on the balance we often face when we share – what to include, how much or how little, and whether we can comfortably talk about ourselves, especially when we’re discussing the work we do.

Have you heard of the humble brag? Well, I don’t believe in it. To me, this is just bragging, which is what I struggle with when writing and sharing about the successes of the work I get to do. It is much easier for me to share what didn’t work because I can focus on how to improve or fix it next time. I post many pictures on social media of educators during trainings and professional development, but writing about the work is different – I have to include myself.

I’m striving to find this mental balance because I believe in the impact of the work that I’m able to do and I want others to be empowered by it. I want to write fire – I want it to come out of every word in every post. I want to create a platform to share the amazing and inspiring things the educators I’m lucky to work with are creating and designing. I want to illustrate how important starting with empathy and relationships is. I want to communicate how even the most simple idea – whether analog or digital – can transform learning for both educators and students.

Sharing isn’t always easy, but it’s necessary. We have to share with each other because it’s an important form of support and capacity building. I am interested in what you have to say, the work you’re designing, the ways in which that work is inspiring and empowering others. I want to read about both your successes and failures. I want us to write fire until it comes out of everywhere, using sharing as a platform to transform learning.

Let’s be meteors.

Victory

How is success measured? Is it accolades? Being thanked for my service? Being given credit for what I create? Or is it the impact my work has on those who I serve? And, possibly, the ability to leave a place and have that work continue, even in my absence?

I work with an administrator who always talks about “small wins.” At one point, this past school year, he was having a hard time with the pressure the district leadership was putting on him to show success. No amount of growth seemed to be enough. In talking, he told me, “I just need some small wins.” It’s hard to look a passionate educator in the eyes and see the strain that this type of pressure can put on him. Especially since he’s providing fabulous opportunities for his students and staff. I asked him what he considered a small win. What took me by surprise, is that nowhere in our conversation did he ever associate the word win with himself. Everything about winning and success, to him, is about the work he’s doing and the opportunities he’s providing for his students and staff.

His victory is less about self and more about the work.

It is so easy to make victory synonymous with self. The idea of success is oftentimes too focused on us, while what creates lasting impact is the work we design and share. This work should sustain and continue even when I am taken out of the picture. It is so nice to have people like me and to know that I’ve made them feel good – but success is measured best when they are excited and empowered by the work; the things we’ve designed together and the products and experiences that they’ve created.

A recent post from The Story of Telling challenges us to redefine greatness.

…it’s possible for us as individuals to redefine greatness by changing how we measure success—by replacing our winner-takes-all worldview with one that requires us to question if we’re doing work we’re proud of. We each get to choose what it means to be great again. Moment-to-moment and day-by-day we can deliberately decide only to do the things we’ll be proud to have done and to create the future we want to see.

As the upcoming school year approaches, I would like to focus less on me and more on the work that I’m designing for the people I serve. As my friend Darren challenges in his latest newsletter (which you should 100% sign up for):

Where do you want your leaders/educators/students to go so they can feel:
engaged?
challenged?
inspired?
intelligent?
empowered?

Questions I will be considering as I continue to dive into work:

  • Are you doing/designing/creating work you’re proud of?
  • How is your work (not you) impacting the future, building something, and empowering others?

As the summer comes to a close and you begin to think about your students, colleagues, and the experience you will design for them, I hope you will remember to reflect on your measures of success. Take your small wins where you can and try to leave the people and places you touch better than when you found them.

I believe in your ability to affect change.

I believe in your purpose to design sustaining experiences for others.

I believe in your victory.

Shine Theory

I first heard about Shine Theory from an article Ann Friedman wrote for The Cut. Being someone who often feels imposter syndrome, I was struck by the idea she proposed:

“Surrounding yourself with the best people doesn’t make you look worse by comparison. It makes you better.”

During the interview for my position at Friday Institute, one of the interviewees (now my colleague) asked me a question that I found intriguing. He invited me to comment on how I deal with working alongside people who are better and know more than I do. At that very moment, I stood in a room with people who I had looked up to and admired for a large part of my career. People who were deciding whether or not I fit in with the team. 

I’m a perfectionist, so naturally the idea of surrounding myself with people who are smarter, more accomplished and more dynamic than myself, terrifies me. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time around these type of people, but I used to think that working alongside them meant my weaknesses would be highlighted. What I’ve found, however, is that surrounding myself with brilliance has done so much to push me forward. It helps me to be challenged, work harder, and consider ideas and opinions that might differ from your own.

Equally as important as being lifted up by those around you who shine, is noticing when the people around you need to be lifted up themselves. We all need a champion from time to time, and what an amazing thing to be for someone else. Don’t underestimate the power of a kind word, a pat on the back, or a simple reassurance to remind someone she’s enough.