Author Archives: David Truss

Pace and productivity

The end of the year can feel like a constant pace of go-go-go! From wake up to head on pillow that night there is too much to do and too little time. Then things (finally) wind down and you see all that you’d like to do but you’ve been too busy doing what you needed to do. Time suddenly slows, and tasks are more easily accomplishable.

This becomes a time when I need others to collaborate with. Time to have learning conversations and time to co-plan. I notice that working with others motivates me and keeps my productivity pace up.

It’s easy to take a deep sigh of relief as things slow down, and to slow down myself. But the year hasn’t ended and there is still a lot to get done, a lot to accomplish, and an opportunity to better prepare for the new year. Just because the pace has slowed doesn’t mean productivity should too.

Staying motivated as the pace slows isn’t easy. It’s easier to coast through to the ending. My motivation is to do whatever I can to make next year better. Because as crazy as the year-ending June pace can be, the year-starting September pace can be equally frenetic. And so the work I do now will help my productivity in the new school year.

It has been a long ride this year, but I’ve got to stay in the saddle and keep riding at a good pace. I’ve got the whole summer to trot and canter, right now I need too keep the gallop going. Giddy up!

Monkey brains

I remember seeing a video clip where Neil deGrasse Tyson was talking about the possibility of alien life. He said that when you consider the intelligence difference between humans and chimpanzee DNA is just 1% (actually closer to 3%, but the point is still valid)… how much smarter could aliens be if they had an even bigger DNA difference to us? It could be possible that alien life forms could be so intelligent that we seem like chimpanzees or even chickens in comparison. ‘Oh look, those human teens are learning simple algebra, how adorable.‘

So aliens might see us as quite simple life forms in comparison to themselves. This could also happen with Artificial Intelligence here on earth. Maybe one day we create an intelligent identity that thinks of us as simple-minded. I shared this idea before that man will never invent artificial intelligence that is ‘as smart as’ humans. The moment an AI is as smart as us, it will instantaneously be smarter than us. When we get to that threshold, the AI will instantly be a lot smarter. It will be as smart as us but also faster at mathematical calculations, faster at solving puzzles, and could also be stronger than us, see better than us, and would definitely have a better vocabulary than us.

We are amazing creatures. We are at the pinnacle of intelligence on planet earth. We are also still quite barbaric. We fight over land, we don’t feed everyone despite having enough food. We take unnecessary risks with our lives, and we even kill one another. We live tribal lives, and while we use tools and technology in ways that far exceeds what any other living thing can do on this planet, our achievements could be minor on a cosmic scale.

We have no way of visiting a distant planet in a single lifespan. We act like parasites on earth, spreading wildly, and killing the planet as we overpopulate large parts of both hospitable and even inhospitable land… meanwhile displacing key animals on the food chain. We are slightly intelligent life forms, with monkey brains.

If we ever come across aliens, they will probably be a lot smarter than us. If we ever create as-smart-as-human intelligent life it will instantaneously be smarter-than-human. In both cases we will move from being the smartest of animals to being less intelligent, and maybe less significant, than another intelligent form.

Still, so far we are the smartest monkeys. It’s just too bad that we do so many dumb things.

Inconceivably vast

Webb’s First Deep Field is the first operational image taken by the James Webb Space Telescope. The deep-field photograph, which covers a tiny area of sky visible from the Southern Hemisphere, is centered on SMACS 0723, a galaxy cluster in the constellation of Volans. Thousands of galaxies are visible in the image, some as old as 13 billion years.The image is the highest-resolution image of the early universe ever taken. Captured by the telescope’s Near-Infrared Camera (NIRCam), the image was revealed to the public by NASA on 11 July 2022. (Wikipedia)

It’s too hard to fathom just how big the universe is. The image below only shows a few stars, they are the bright spots with 6 flares coming off of them… a by-product of the James Webb telescope’s design. The rest of the bright spots are galaxies. Galaxies that each hold billions or trillions of stars.

And if you held your pinky up to the night sky you would completely cover the area of the sky that this photo covers with a sliver of a finger nail.

We are so insignificantly tiny, and our Milky Way galaxy is so insignificantly placed in the universe. We just can’t conceive of just how inconceivably vast our universe is, and how insignificantly tiny our solar system is.

It’s too much to comprehend. And yet, here we are. So significant to each other, so connected to our planet. We get to live lives rich in mystery and wonder.

What other life is out there, or was out there, some time in the 13 billion years of our universe’s existence? Could alien life comprehend our existence? We’ll probably never know.

If there was life in one of these distant galaxies right now, we wouldn’t it know for millions or billions of years. The light we see in that photo above are from the past. To put it into perspective, if they were looking at light from our planet, they would be seeing light emitted from before dinosaurs roamed the earth… in other words they would be looking at prehistoric life on a planet with single cell organisms or perhaps no life at all… yet.

It’s too hard to grasp. It’s inconceivable.

Subtle regret

It’s a price I pay as an educator. It doesn’t matter how many positive things happen in a school year, I always feel a little regret at the end of the year. I wanted the year to be more. I wanted it to be better. I wanted to make a greater contribution. I wanted to have more impact.

Twenty five years into my career, and I’ve felt this every year. This year it stings a bit more because my health issues made me miss a lot of school. But I also know this is just me being hard on myself. I know that if things were 100 percent better and I hit every goal I had, I would still feel subtle regret that I didn’t set my targets high enough.

Yesterday a grad came by with flowers, and a card, and a card from their parent. Both cards shared thanks for four amazing years in a school that gave them an opportunity that they felt they couldn’t get anywhere else. That’s heartwarming. And yet this morning I’m lamenting about what else could have been done.

This isn’t me feeling depressed. This isn’t me fishing for compliments. It’s me wondering who else feels this at the end of the school year?

In reality, I don’t want this ‘subtle’ feeling to go away, (that said I also don’t want it to be more pronounced). I actually want this small feeling at this time of year. It doesn’t sadden me as much as it drives me. It makes me think a bit about the potential of next year. It fuels me and inspires me to think bigger, to be excited about what’s possible. It’s kind of like the feeling of coming in second in a competition, you aren’t thrilled, but you had a god season, and now you are excited about next season.

Maybe it’s possible to garner that excitement without the subtle regret? Maybe it could happen where you feel like you won the season and you want to create back-to-back winning seasons? Perhaps that’s possible. But unlike a sports season, a school year doesn’t have a trophy, and there are always things about the year that could have been better.

So, I’ll take the subtle regret. It won’t make me sad, but it will make me want to make next year better… and I really believe it will be.

Little and big bumps

Yesterday’s grad went well. There were a few bumps along the way, including our livestream going down, which is not anything you would want to happen. Even after a reboot, it never worked as planned. So, to remote grandparents and others waiting to watch from home, it was a disappointment.

At the event there were a few other bumps. One funny one was that our awards have nominees, and then a winner is announced. But the teacher who had the announcing envelopes tucked them inside a shelf in the lectern then forgot where he put them… and another teacher doing the first award presentation didn’t know who the winner was? That caused a bit of a scramble. But it also caused some laughs. It wasn’t a big deal, and got sorted out quickly.

Big bumps like the livestream going down are regrettable. We don’t know what caused the issue, and if we could have foreseen the issue in any way, it would be upsetting to know that we could have prevented it. But this wasn’t the first livestream we’ve done, and we didn’t do anything differently. The technology failed us, and we still don’t know the cause.

Little bumps like the lost winner envelopes are more preventable than our big bump was, but less important. No one missed out on anything, and the delay was minor… even entertaining.

Planning a big event is challenging to do without a few bumps. Stress levels can be high, and there are a lot of moving parts. Seldom does everything go perfectly. The trick is to not sweat over the little bumps, and to do everything in your power to avoid the big bumps.

Small bumps don’t ruin the event, big bumps can. I feel sorry for those that were trying to watch our event from home. We learned a lesson to always ensure we are saving a local recording and not just recording to the cloud. That way if a livestream connection ever goes down again, we will still have a local copy of the event to share later. That is to say, if our livestream ever dies again, the at home audience can watch it later… and the big bump becomes a small bump.

Behind the curtain

I remember running an assembly as the leadership teacher back when I was in middle school. It was for a Terry Fox run, and we had a former teacher and coach of Terry as a guest speaker. I’d heard him before, he’s both articulate and engaging, and I knew it would be a good presentation. But what I remember most about that assembly was that our guest speaker was the only adult who spoke.

My grade 8 leadership kids completely ran the show. They helped classes get seated. They greeted him. They quieted the audience. They introduced him. They thanked him. They gave out the instructions for the run. These aren’t huge tasks, but they take planning and rehearsing to do well. And to me it looks so much better when students run the show.

Tonight we have our grad and I have an amazing teacher who is behind the scenes helping make sure everything goes smoothly. But it’s a student who set up the YouTube live stream, it’s students performing musical acts, it’s students doing most of the work. And it’s student MC’s that will host the show.

It wouldn’t happen all that smoothly without this teacher behind the curtain, but no one in the audience is going to know what he did, how hard he worked, and how other teachers also helped from behind the curtain. What everyone will see is a student run show.

Our school prides itself in being student driven and led… and it really is. But it isn’t like this just because of the students, it’s because of teachers providing the opportunity. Teachers making sure students have the skills, and have put in the practice. It doesn’t just take student leaders, it takes teachers that make room for students to lead and to shine.

My teacher won’t take a bow today. He won’t get any of the limelight. He’ll stay behind the curtain and he’ll get satisfaction from the students doing a great job. That’s what great teachers do.

June fatigue

I’m tired. My routines are a mess. I’m playing constant catch-up rather than being on top of things. That’s June in a nutshell. So much to do, so little time.

The good news is that we have grad tomorrow. And while it’s going to be a 12+ hour work day, it’s also going to end on a really positive note. So, as I lay in bed writing something I usually write 16 hours earlier, (if I was on a regular routine), I am thinking about how I can revitalize my routines and and make June a little less crazy.

Routines and positive habits are self-fulfilling. They add energy to the system rather than drain them. And on that note, I need to get off my screen and get enough sleep for a big day. If you see another post in about 8 hours, that’s a good sign that I good to bed and am back on track. Two things that help with June fatigue are my regular routines, and at least 7 hours of sleep. June is now 66.6% done… only 1/3 more to go!

Grad speech

For our small school we invite the entire community to watch our grad. So since our first grad in 2016, I’ve written a completely different grad speech each year. I have a former student who has seen at least the last 5, and he is very honest about what he thinks of them… and I value his feedback.

This year I’m struggling with the topic. I usually have the frame of the speech completed by now, if not the whole thing written. I’m still deciding on my theme. So, tonight I write, tomorrow I rehearse, and Wednesday I am on stage sharing it. I don’t mind a tight timeline, but I do wish I was a little further along right now.

In the end, it’s not about me, it’s about the grads… I just want to share something not too long, and respectful to our grads and our community. And maybe, if I’m lucky, get a small chuckle or two. Wish me luck!

I think therefore…

I think therefore I… reflect, plan, worry, and I delude myself. I think therefore… I am not. I am not existing in the moment when I’m not thinking in the moment. Instead I am creating an illusion of what was or what will be. This is not the counter argument to René Descartes’ “I think therefore I am”. It is a commentary on what we actually think about. Thinking about the past and future does not negate our existence, but thinking about anything other than the present moment is more about existing than living.

This is why there is so much appeal to exhilarating experiences. It’s hard to worry about anything more than the present moment when we are skydiving, bungee jumping, river rafting, rock climbing, dancing, playing music, having sex, or even playing a competitive sport. These moments demand our moment-to-moment presence, they give us the ‘I am’ experience of being the thinker.

But more often than not we are thinkers thinking about moments other than now, and thus not fully living. It’s a useful exercise to meditate, to take a moment to be singularly aware of the moment. To be present in the present. Here. Now. There is irony in the fact that not thinking and just being is to be more present, more in the ‘I am’ state, than when in a thinking state. I think therefore I am… distracted. Whereas when I focus on my current experience and I am in the present, then I am here, and I am now. I am truly living.

You’re so vain

The lyrics of a Carley Simon song say, “You’re so vain, you probably think this song is about you.”

I’ve heard again and again that this song is about James Taylor, whom she dated before she wrote this song. I’ve also heard that Warren Beatty believes it’s about him.

We all think that other people are thinking about us, that people are paying attention to us. In reality each person (to some degree) sees the world as revolving around them. This is especially evident in kids. It starts at a very young age when they play hide and seek, and they cover their own eyes believing that if they can’t see you, then you can’t see them. But then, all the way into their teens they see the world only through their eyes.

Then the grow up a bit, and they understand that the whole world isn’t seen from their perspective. Yet years later a small, passing joke about this now teenager may get a single laugh, and they believe that the entire world is laughing at them. Humiliation reigns when everyone else has already moved on to the next thing. 

Adults aren’t always better. They make a mistake and the closest they can get to an apology is “I am sorry you feel that way, that wasn’t my intention.” That’s not an apology, that’s ignorance of the hurt that you actually did. The unsaid part of that attempt at an apology is, “It’s absolutely your fault that you didn’t understand what I meant”. And I’m not sure who would consider that a real apology?

That’s vanity for you. In a young child it’s seeing the world only through your eyes. As a teenager it’s believing everyone is watching you. And as an adult it’s the belief that you are misunderstood but it’s not your fault. 

It takes humility to understand that you’re not all that important. It takes empathy to understand that other people think differently than you. And it takes honesty to recognize that your perspective is just one of many. Integrity isn’t built from a vain point of you, it is built from understanding that while the things you value are important, it’s also important to value the thoughts and opinions of people you care about.

And as cautionary tale, people who are vain do not deserve the same respect as those who are humble and wise. There is a difference between being humble, and being a pushover to people who do not give others the same respect that you do.