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.

Incredible

“You’re incredible,” he said, “even though you might not always believe it.”

One statement. Ten words. So much power.

When I read this, my immediate reaction was to say thank you – followed by a “you’re too kind” or “I don’t know about that.” Why is it that this type of commendation is often so difficult for us to hear and accept? Even when we’re proud of our work, our progress, our growth, we struggle to find ourselves incredible. It’s always easier to focus on our failings or what we haven’t yet accomplished.

I’m not sure what is to blame for this culture. Maybe it’s the direct effect of the comparative practice trap that much of social media can instigate. Maybe it’s the sheer amount of edu-famousness that is taking over Twitter – the rise of the edu-heroes. Maybe it’s the lack of attention we give to daily or weekly reflection of our growth and our wins. Maybe it’s work environment – being surrounded by brilliance and seeing this as competition as opposed to inspiration.

In a recent article for 99U, Dr. Christian Jarrett warns of the dangers of being too hard on yourself. He counters the idea that believing in yourself – showing yourself respect and kindness – is self-indulgent. Rather, this is what is coined “self-compassion.”

People high in self-compassion are honest about their own shortcomings and contribution to failure, but they don’t beat themselves up for it. Rather, they comfort themselves, they recognize failure and mistakes as part of life, and they see the situation as a chance to grow.

When I read this, I immediately recognized my reaction to being called incredible. Instead of simply being honored that this person (who I greatly admire) values me and sees my potential, I began creating excuses in my head for why I’m not incredible – beating myself up for what I view as my failings and shortcomings. I also realized that this is neither healthy nor productive.

The friend I mentioned before went on to remind me to continue making my dent in the universe. Isn’t that an amazing thought!? Our work, passion, dedication, and action all come together to form our dent – however large or small it may be.

This is what I want to do. I want to create the time and space to be kind to myself, to be honest about my failings, but to recognize that these are merely a chance to learn and grow. I want to do what Gandhi meant when he said,

In a gentle way, you can shake the world.

And most importantly, I want to help create an environment (and maybe even a culture) where others become more self-compassionate. Imagine how big our collective dent will be when we all start realizing and believing just how incredible we are.

And to my friend, who will always have a special place in my heart, thank you.

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.

 

Wellness

A few months ago, I attended the funeral of one of my former students who took her own life. The longer you teach, the more you will encounter loss, but this loss hit me hard. Sitting at her funeral, the enormity of the epidemic hit me. We live in a society where dangerous stigmas regarding mental health permeate our culture. Mental wellness is not something that most people want to talk about – until, we unfortunately, have a tragic reason to do so.

Educators are in a particularly unique position. We are called to nurture and teach students who are angry, sad, heartbroken, neglected, hurt, forgotten. We wear the weight of all of their suffering on our shoulders, while, at the same time, the responsibility to teach them and prepare them for whatever comes next. It’s obvious how this can take a toll on someone. In the past week, I’ve received multiple messages from fellow educators about how they are empty, burnt out, and at the end of their ropes – all for different reasons. Whether it’s battling parents who won’t listen, juggling intentional practice with district level pressure, feeling like they’ve hit a plateau in their practice, or just simply the devastating reality of the state of our nation’s political climate, the effects that all of this can have on a person’s mental health can be treacherous.

I am no stranger to the effects that career pressures can have on a person. I wrote a little about it last month as I reflected on how much my life has changed since October. Oftentimes, when we are very busy, we don’t slow down enough to really contemplate how what we do affects us internally. It’s when we finally have the time to take a breath that we can feel that weight, all at once, bearing down on us. And this mental stress manifests itself in very different ways. Some of us get angry, some shut down, some run away, some push it down and compartmentalize it, some remain numb, and others become consumed by it.

Here are a few things I’m trying as I become more mindful of self-care.

Find someone (or a few people) who you trust that you can talk to.

Whether you talk to your significant other, a family member, a colleague, best friend, or even a professional, releasing your feelings in this way can help you heal, grow, and move on. Sometimes we have to lean into struggle while we lean on others for support.

 

Own your vulnerability.

This is a hard one, but admitting that it’s okay to not feel okay is important. We’re human, we can only take so much before we need a release. This looks different for everyone, but whatever your release is, don’t be ashamed of it. Own it and remember it’s what you need.

 

Be more present in the world.

I take time, almost daily, to be outside. Whether I’m hiking, running, sitting by the pool, or reading a book on my balcony, I try to power off and detach myself from screens so that I can just be present in the world around me. It isn’t always easy to get rid of distractions, but when you can, use this time to take notice of the things you usually miss. Just be.

 

Lose the “what else” mindset.

You can read more about this here. It’s not easy, especially if you’re a Type A personality, but thinking about what enough means to you can go a long way in helping you to feel more at ease with yourself, your effort, your contribution.

 

Find at least one thing that you can do just for you.

Maybe it’s a hobby, a crafting class (like the one I recently took – stitching and mimosas), yoga, rock climbing, shopping, reading and actually finishing a book, a long bath with wine, writing, or in my case, diving into the world of coding and web development. It doesn’t matter what your thing is, what matters is that you choose it for yourself and make it all about you.

 

Slow down, take time for yourself, create a “do not do” list, remove toxicity from your life (as much as you can), and lean on people who love you. You’re important, as is your contribution. The world needs it.