Leading With Lollipops

I saw this video for the first time last year, and it was someone else who showed it to me (thanks Norm).  I took it back to school and showed it to my staff, because it was perfect.  I wanted to let them know how much I appreciated the hard work that they were doing every day, that they were making a huge difference in the lives of kids every day, and that I understood how few thank yous were sent back in return.  I also wanted to let them know that--sometimes--the most meaningful moments for some people are, well, missed by others.  I always expected that when my big thank you came, I would be not only be ready for it, but expecting it.  I was wrong.  My life-changing thank you came about because of an incredible tragedy. 

I was working in another district as a Vice-Principal, and was attending a celebration of life at the school for a former student who was tradically murdered.  At the service, another student came running up to me, exclaiming that he was hoping that I would be there and that we could catch up.  He told me that he was a commercial airline pilot, that things were good and stable for him, and that--gulp--I had saved his life.  Wow, saved his life.  That statement still hits me like a tonne of bricks.  He said that he was at a point of not caring about school or life and wasn't trying hard, and that I pulled him aside and had a really hard conversation about what it was that he wanted to do with his life and about doing things in a way that allowed people to see the real him and not just the facade that he was hiding behind.  I gave him the gut check to decide how he was going to be remembered, and then gave him a chance to make up all missed work and get caught up but only if he was going to give a real effort and stop playing games.  He said that conversation and the following weekend gave him the pause to see his life clearly, and he made a choice to follow his heart--that person hiding inside his chest--and walk away from the life of gangs, drugs and violence that had enveloped his older brother.  So you see, when he told me that I saved his life...he meant it.  The problem for me was that I didn't remember the conversation.  Sure, after some reflection I put myself back into that Geology 12 classroom, sitting down beside him and talking to him about wasting his talent.  Sure, I could remember the late afternoons setting up and explaining rock labs and sending him home to complete the write ups.  But, it didn't play back like a movie, and it wasn't glamourous.  And, it wasn't me who did any of that work, it was him.  I just pointed him in the right direction, and promised to be there to help should he choose the right path.  Maybe that is a lot, and maybe I was foolish to expect anything more.  I was so proud if him that day, and I still am.  I also know that there will be a time in his life where he will use that experience to help someone else make a big difference.  How amazing is that?

So my challenge this weekend is for everyone to dig deep and find that person who made a difference for them.  Chances are it will be a teacher, but it could be anyone.  Then, find a way to track that person down, and hand them a lollipop or some other reasonable or symbolic facsimilie, and thank them for making a difference in your life. 

It might be the most important thing you do all year, and it might make a far bigger difference than you could ever imagine.

From My iPhone

I have spent 2 1/2 hours in the last two days covering kindergarten and grade 1 classes. It has been a good opportunity for me to help get to know the newest students in our school, and it helped out our teachers. Having this opportunity to get into the classroom helps remind me that we always have to keep the people--the kids and the staff--first, and the paperwork second. No matter how big the pile of stuff is to do, this still isn't a desk job.

This is my first iPhone post. I am interested to see how it turns out.

Proud to Be a Canadian

We had a remarkable day at school today, celebrating Canadian Citizenship Week by hosting a Canadian Citizenship Ceremony.  Our kids worked so hard to get the gym decorated and set up, and we all dressed in red and white and watched as 53 people—including one of our students—from 17 different countries became new Canadians. 

I was so proud of our students and our school, and so proud that we were able to share in such a wonderful moment in the lives of these new Canadians.  I spoke to a family of four from Ukraine who came from a village very close to the one that my grandfather came from.  I spoke to a wonderful couple from Texas who were so happy and proud to be Canadians and who were so grateful that they were able to share such a touching ceremony with our kids.  I spoke to a man from Australia whose wife had just been hired onto the district as a teacher, and another family from England who had lived here for 13 years and were finally “officially Canadian”.  But I didn’t get a chance to catch up with the elderly man who sat in the very front row, on the corner to the right of the judge.  He had a beautiful smile on his face, and sat there quietly weeping for the duration of the ceremony, occasionally removing his glasses to wipe away the tears running down his cheek.  As Principal, I sat up with the dignitaries and shook the hands of every new Canadian following their few private words with the judge.  It took everything this man had to shake my hand, as he was so overcome with joy that his body was trembling.  I looked for him as the line neared its end and saw him, for an instant, through a break in the crowd;  however, the gap closed and he disappeared before I could find a word with him.  We wanted to know his story, but his quick exit probably left a bigger mark on us because it left us with an image of him choosing to be Canadian.  He wasn’t born here.  He may not have grown up here.  But he chose to be here today to become a Canadian.

I am so proud to be a Canadian.

I am so proud to be the Principal of this school.

Finding My Way

A good friend is moving away. 

My friend is a good leader and a good teacher.

My friend does not like public attention, and always tries to push the team to the front for any credit or accolades.

My friend set me up for success.

My friend is a great supporter, had my back when I needed it, but also never let me off the hook when I needed to stand up and be counted.  I needed that.

My friend made me wear my big boy pants.

My friend has a great laugh, and so do I.  My day works better when I use my laugh, and it was great to work with someone who made that okay.

My friend gave me the time—and the permission—to settle into my role, and to find my way.  Not by telling me the way, but by asking me to dig inside myself. 

My friend really helped me to find my way.

My friend made a difference to me—a big one.  I will help to pay back that favour by making a difference to others who cross my path.

I am grateful that our paths crossed, and excited for the opportunities that lay ahead of my friend.

My friend is moving away, but can't get rid of me that easily...

Living on an Island

 

Wow, I thought that this was going to be an easy post, but I am into the 5^th draft and not convincing myself of anything else other than the topic is more complex that I first intended (and even understood).  I wanted a brief and concise “rah, rah” kind of salute to networks, and I ended up on so many disconnected tangents that I had to put the writing away 4 times to give me time to reflect and digest.  Hmmm, maybe that is the real point of writing these things down?  But, I digress...

Early on, I had many people talk to me--professionally--about the importance of building a network of support, and some even tried building this network for me.  It didn’t work in most cases, of course, because it wasn’t authentic or genuine.  One event, however, stands out for me as the moment that I really began to take my personal networks seriously (meaning that I stopped taking them for granted), and that was a keynote by Alan November for an administrative institute that I attended about six years ago.  Alan spoke to us about technology in education, but came at it from an angle that I hadn’t really considered before.  He demanded that we use the technological tools available to us to connect to the rest of the world.  Not randomly, meaningfully and in the best interests of kids and education.  Not to do so, he argued, was malpractice.  Needless to say, he had my attention.

Skype was reasonably new to most people in the room back then, and Alan used Skype to call a professor at some US university to get a point of view on an educational question that we were discussing.  Alan didn’t know all of the answers, but he knew where to go to get them.  His confidence was in his network. 

I have never forgotten that lesson.

So, here are my questions for you:

1.       Who is your key contact when you find yourself in a jam at work?

2.       Who is your moral compass when you bump up against an ethical dilemma, or find strain in a relationship?

3.       Who do you seek out for comfort and security?

If you don’t know the answers to these questions, please, take the time, right now, to find them.  My guess is that they will all be found right in front of your nose.

I used to think that we could not live on islands, and that we had to build bridges to connect our communities.  That is not exactly true anymore.  We can live—physically—in isolation, so long as we stay connected to that web of support around us.  But we need support, and it comes from people that we trust, and not in gigabytes or in megapixels. 

People are important. 

It is important to remember that networks can only work if they run on two-way streets; having someone as part of your network likely means that you are part of theirs, and while giving advice is easy, asking for it is difficult.  Connect with your network and promise to ask for help.  Then, go home and make a stronger promise to yourself. 

Promise yourself never to suffer in isolation. 

Promise yourself to seek help when help is needed; it is exactly that humbling of character that builds character.

Now go and connect with someone important to you. 

Rhymes with Orange

This morning, over our oatmeal with blueberries, my eight-year-old son announced that he wished someone would invent a word that rhymed with orange.  “You know, like norange, dorange or hippopotorange.”  “Really?” thought the proud parent.  I know that this kid is pretty bright, and he loves to learn.  I wondered what amazing and creative connections were happening in his brain that led him to this thought.  What innovative things will he do if someone actually invents this word?

Wow, this was getting deep, so I did what any good teacher would do:  I threw it back at him, and asked why he wanted someone else to invent a word that rhymes with orange?   I sat back, smugly, waiting for that amazing learning connection and life lesson that my son was going to share with me.  His answer came, and it was clear.  It stunned me at first, and it took me some time and reflection to really grasp, for within its simplicity was a meaning far more profound than I expected.

He said...wait for it...“Because then there would be a word that rhymes with orange”, and he followed that statement with that look we parents get when an eight-year-old has to explain something so obviously obvious.

Why is it that as we “grow up” we need to mine for meaning in everything that we do, and that the older we get the deeper that meaning has to be? 

This was a good lesson for me today, and it is about “being serious” all of the time.  I mean, being a principal is serious business, isn’t it?  People want me to be in charge, to have a plan and to demonstrate direction.  But, what about having fun?  What about forgetting about deep meaning, and digging down instead for that creative little boy inside of me? He is still there, somewhere, and he pops up every now and then.  He laughs because it feels good, and uses humour to try and cheer other people up.  He loves to learn, and can get lost in this thoughts whilst obsessively following creatively divergent thought tangents.  He often finds great meaning in the smallest of things, loves it when his senses tingle, and finds making connections between something learned and something new absolutely irresistible.  He stops to smell the roses.

 Maybe, I need to start explaining more things in my day with “because...”.  Not “because I said so”, not “because that’s how we do things”, not “because that’s the most logical thing to do”, and not “because that is what experience has taught me”.  Nope, just because that’s the way it is.

I think that am going to have some fun and play soccer with the grades 3s today at lunch. 

Why you ask? 

Just because.

What Fly Fishing Has Taught Me About Leadership

Lesson 1: When you can’t see your way, stop and eat a sandwich

Mentors are funny;  they don’t always appear to play the leading roles in your life as your life is happening.  That is to say, sometimes it takes considerable time and reflection to realize who your most significant role models are.  In a younger life, I lived and taught in Calgary while my wife completed medical school.  There, through a colleague, I met a wonderful life mentor who at first seemed to be only playing the role of my fly fishing coach.  He taught me so much about the world of fly fishing, all of which was steeped in ethics, morals and values, and because of this his lessons keep creeping back into my life in ways that are very different from how (I thought that) they were delivered.  One memorable day, he was teaching me how to read water on a small spring creek.  He graciously offered me a very productive section of the creek to fish, and asked me to tell him what my plan of attack would be.  I looked at the stream—not seeing much—and pointed out a small rock where a fish had splashed as the place that I would cast to.  He thought about this for a minute and then announced that we needed to have lunch.  “Have lunch?” I thought, “But this was supposed to be the great water that we had hiked all day to get to”.  I was confused.  So, we sat down and pulled out our sandwiches, and while we ate an amazing thing happened.  That quiet, bubbling creek suddenly came to life.  That little fish by the rock was still bringing a lot of attention to itself, but I also started to see insects emerging, individual current streams twisting just underneath the surface, and then quick flash of some very large fish rising to take insects off the surface.  Their rises were almost undetectable.  “You see that one”, he said, “that one is a big fish.  There was no splash, but you can see how much more water he moved than the little one that you had been watching earlier”.  I caught a lot of big fish that afternoon, most of which I would have walked right past without noticing had I not stopped to have that sandwich.

What I Learned:  When you can’t see your way, stop, slow down and pay attention to the little things.  Sometimes, all of the chaos in front of you will transform into a clear direction.  I also learned that while little fish made the big, splashy rises, the bigger fish made small—almost un-noticeable—dimples in the water.  How do you think they got so big in the first place?  Sometimes, the biggest fish, the biggest issues, challenges and successes, and even the biggest allies need that extra bit of care and attention to uncover.

Lesson 2:  There are three stages to fly fishing

In the first stage, the fly fisher is usually young, energetic and ready to take on any challenge.  He puts tonnes of time into his craft, always works hard, and tries to catch as many fish as possible—every time.

In the second stage, the fly fisher still pushes hard every time, but doesn’t worry about the small fish.  In fact, they begin to annoy him.  This guy wants to catch big fish—every time—and will often sacrifice an entire day just to hook into that big photo-worthy lunker.

In the third stage, the fly fisher begins to look around and realize that it is the experience that counts most.  Fish are great, but it is the beautiful surroundings, the company (or the quiet), and the overall experience that is most meaningful.  Catching a fish is a not only a bonus, but a moment to savour.  This guy always comes home happy. 

What I learned:  It can’t be a competition forever, even if you are in competition with yourself.  There has to be hard work, and it must be balanced with fun for anything to be sustainable.  Also, when you focus in too much on specific, defined and minute goals, you can lose sight of the big picture and the reason why you are doing this job in the first place.

Lesson 3:  Always wade with caution

There is a saying in fishing circles that slow waters run deep, and I guess the reverse is true about faster, shallow water.  It doesn’t matter how circumstances appear to your eyes when it is your feet that have to shuffle along the bottom feeling for a secure foot hold, all-the-while looking three steps ahead for your next move.  A steadied, thought-out approach is always best, as an impulsive and reckless approach often leads to trouble.

What I learned:  Even though things look smooth on the surface, strong currents and hazards frequently lurk down below.  You always need to be planned and organized enough to have the confidence to deal with a surprise from underneath, and when in doubt ask for help from someone who has traveled this route before.

Lesson 4:  Some days, the fish don’t bite

Back in grade 6, my class read My Side of the Mountain, by Jean Craighead George.  When we were tested on the book, we were asked “When is the best time to go fishing”, and the answer was “when they are hungry”.  I have never forgotten that the answer to that question.  It does not matter how prepared I am tying all the right flies, having all the right gear, getting to the right spot first, and—even—having the right sandwich;  if the fish aren’t hungry, they won’t look up and bite.

What I learned:  There has to be a plan, and it has to be well-thought out.  However, even the best plans don’t work if you present them to an audience that doesn’t want them.  Sometimes, you really have to work hard to develop a relationship with that fish to really understand them before they will rise up and take what you are offering.

What I have learned most:  Enjoy the moment

It can be overwhelming trying to lead an elementary school all by yourself, but things get so much easier when you stop to look around and remember what a wonderful and exciting place that you are in.  Where else can you find so many people happy to be there every day, and so excited to learn?  Where else do you get to learn so much every day?