Tag Archives: leadership

Do the thing

“Preparing to do the thing isn’t doing the thing.

Scheduling time to do the thing isn’t doing the thing.

Making a to-do list for the thing isn’t doing the thing.

Telling people you’re going to do the thing isn’t doing the thing.

Messaging friends who may or may not be doing the thing isn’t doing the thing.

Writing a banger tweet about how you’re going to do the thing isn’t doing the thing.

Hating on yourself for not doing the thing isn’t doing the thing. Hating on other people who have done the thing isn’t doing the thing. Hating on the obstacles in the way of doing the thing isn’t doing the thing.

Fantasizing about all of the adoration you’ll receive once you do the thing isn’t doing the thing.

Reading about how to do the thing isn’t doing the thing. Reading about how other people did the thing isn’t doing the thing. Reading this essay isn’t doing the thing.

The only thing that is doing the thing is doing the thing.” ~ Strangest Loop

It doesn’t matter if it’s a workout, a phone call, a challenging conversation, or even a blog post. The task won’t get done unless you actually do it. That said, if you want it done, it’s good to schedule it, it’s good to add it to your tasks, and it’s good to tell people and make the thing public. The quote above doesn’t dismiss doing these preparatory things, it just identifies that these aren’t enough.

The only thing that is enough is doing the thing.

Authentically empowered

In a recent post. Process, product, and purpose, I shared that there are some teachers coming to learn about our self-directed, inquiry based school. And that our students will be planning and presenting to these teachers. I wanted to expand a bit on the process.

One of our teachers shared this diagram with the students to help them:

Then yesterday they pulled me into their meeting to ask a few questions, (the teacher I mentioned above was teaching or he would have joined us too). The students asked me what my vision for the presentation was.

I said I would like it to be story based. That there are two stories to tell:

1. What’s the experience of a student – both their experience in a school day, and moving from Grade 9 to Grade 12.

2. What is their story? How can they share their personal stories of doing progressively more challenging inquiries?

I also made sure to ask questions about how they would do this and not just make suggestions. My talk with them was a discussion not a one-way sharing. They invited me to the conversation. My final suggestion was that I knew what they were planning was going to answer all the questions the educators asked in advance… So rather than addressing those questions directly, which would disrupt the flow of their narrative, they should end the presentation with a slide of their questions and ask if they missed anything or needed to answer any of them with more depth. They liked this idea as a way to start off their Q&A at the end.

That’s all the direction they got. I was in the room with them for about 15-20 minutes. They will create the presentation and they will want to show it to us before presenting. We won’t have to ask them to see it, they will ask us for feedback and input. That’s part of the process they’ve learned. Further to this, there are 6 of them and we didn’t pick a leader, we didn’t tell them how to organize themselves or the presentation. I did mention that the presentation should be cohesive and not look like 6 different presentations, but I gave no examples of what I meant by this. They didn’t ask, they understood.

If these were a group of Grade 9’s & 10’s we would have scaffolded this a bit more, but these four Grade 11’s and two Grade 12’s are now seasoned presenters. At least one of them will inject some humour into the conversation, any one of could will ‘wow’ the guests with the depth of their inquires, all of them will be incredible ambassadors.

And one final note: none of them are doing this for extra credit. All 6 of them are coming in on a professional development day when all their peers are off school, and they are doing this voluntarily. Why? Because we asked. Because they get to design it, and because they know they go to a pretty unique school and they want to share their story. If they didn’t get the chance to be authentically empowered in this way, it would have been unlikely that the first 6 students I asked all agreed to volunteer. They are six awesome ambassadors, sharing their stories, in their own way, and still meeting the goals of the presentation.

Our guests are going to have a great experience learning about our school from our students, while we will be in a room next door doing our own professional development.

Dropping balls

One of the most frustrating things is to realize that you dropped a ball. You are juggling so many things and one falls through your fingers. You miss it.

A good juggler can make the mistake a part of the show. A good leader can’t.

In this specific case it’s not that bad because the only person really let down is me. I can still pick the ball up, I can put it back into play, and the only harm is that everyone saw me drop it. A little embarrassing, but I can handle it.

I can make the excuse that I had just returned from medical leave and I had a lot of balls to juggle, but that’s not accepting ownership, it’s just making excuses. It was something that should have been prioritized. Other things were less important.

I just need to accept the mistake. I need to own it. I need to pick up the ball and put it back into play. The challenge is not explaining, justifying, or excusing, but owning my mistake. Then doing what I can to fix it.

This is harder to do when you let people down. It is challenging to face when others are counting on you.

Excuses are not the way. Own it. Do your best to make it right, and be sure to keep similar balls in the air in the future. That’s the best way forward.

Not going to win

We are always told to look for the win-win. How can you help both sides of an argument feel like they are getting what they want? The flaw in this is when one side just doesn’t want anything that the other side would consider acceptable. When one side is fixated on a specific outcome, it’s not about working to ‘a’ solution, it’s about working towards ‘their’ solution… the one pre-set and pre-loaded as the only perceivable resolution.

I recently had to deal with a conflict that seemed like it was at a complete impasse. I heard both sides of the argument and was able to negotiate a solution that was acceptable to everyone. It worked because I suggested a much longer timeline. On one side, the person would get what they wanted, but on a slower timeline. On the other side, more work had to be done but in a much more realistic timeline. Easy enough to do, and both sides agreed. In all honesty, I didn’t think it would go as well as it did, and it wouldn’t have if both sides weren’t willing to compromise.

But sometimes one side will be a complete ‘stick in the mud’. Negotiations are halted before they even start because one side refuses to make any concessions. The term “stick to your guns” comes to mind. The thing is, that often ends up feeling like a lose-lose situation.

I’m not saying that people always need to meet in the middle. In fact the middle is seldom the best place to land. But holding a hard line to make a point, or expecting concessions with no compromise seldom leaves anyone feeling that they’ve won.

Martec’s Law in education

In “Martec’s Law: the greatest management challenge of the 21st century” author Scott Brinker states:

“Three years ago, I described a conundrum that I dubbed Martec’s Law:

Technology changes exponentially, but organizations change logarithmically.

As shown in the graph [below], we know that technology changes at an exponential rate. This is the phenomenon of Moore’s Law— and, more broadly, Kurzweil’s Law of Accelerating Returns. But we also know that human organizations don’t change that quickly. Changes in behavior and culture take time. There are only so many changes in people, processes, and technology that an organization can productively absorb at once — at least without a major disruption.

So approximately speaking, organizations change at a logarithmic rate — much slower than exponential technological change.

In my opinion, Martec’s Law encapsulates the greatest management challenge of the 21st century: how do we manage relatively slow-changing organizations in a rapidly changing technological environment? It is a hard problem.”

I think this is something significant to consider in education. Schools tend to change quite slowly. It takes a very long time to change curriculum. Textbooks are a sunk cost on a fixed learning tool. Technology costs money and there are limited funds. And access to technology needs to be safe, and keep student information private.

Training is also a challenge. When a new technology is added to an organization, many employees get on-the-job training to learn how to use the technology appropriately. Often between 25-40% of the cost of a new tool could be put into training. That doesn’t happen in education. Teachers are in front of students daily; The technology itself tends to be 90%+ of the funding cost; and teachers get limited training and professional development.

Martec’s Law: “Technology changes exponentially, but organizations change logarithmically,” is exaggerated in education making adaptation to technology much slower. To appropriately integrate new technology requires systems thinking about how to scale.

I used to think that fearless ‘techie’ teachers, the innovators and early adopters, were the ones who really move education forward. I still see how they play an important role, but they transform classrooms not schools, much less districts. Now I see the value of district-wide initiatives where every teacher is given a minimal amount of access and training… in the same tools. Because tech support can’t be sustained when every teacher wants full access (cost and support) to the newest shiny technologies.

Large organizations with rich budgets only advance logarithmically while technology advances exponentially, so to expect schools to do the same on more limited, government funds is hardly realistic. Yes we need the outliers who will try new tools and share their knowledge, but we also need system wide support and training, on tools that are safe and educationally sound.

This is getting harder because technology today is less about purchasing tools and more about subscriptions. A single overhead projector can last a decade with a bulb change or two. A laptop can last 4 years. But a subscription to a tool that teachers become dependent on will have a yearly cost to it. And if that tool isn’t supported at the district level, then that leads to frustrations for educational leaders, teachers, and students alike.

Schools are not about kids having access to all the newest tech tools, they are places where kids learn to think critically and creatively, and to effectively use the tools available to them. Providing access to technology equitably requires sunk costs in tools, and subscriptions, with some training and support. Recognizing that the newest tech will almost always be out of reach for schools doesn’t mean they are falling behind, when even large high-budget organizations have difficulty keeping up. Rather, it’s districts and schools with vision about how to move forward as an entire organization that will keep up as technology exponentially changes.

My miscommunication

I really try to live by the mantra, ‘The meaning of your communication is the response you get’. It puts the burden of my clear communication solely on me. When someone misunderstands or misinterprets my communication, it’s not their fault, it’s mine… I could have been more clear, more concise, more thoughtful.

I had a written conversation with a colleague recently that didn’t go as I had planned. When I saw the misunderstanding, I tried to explain. But I came from a defensive stance about what I really meant. I didn’t think about what their response really meant. I worried too much about clarifying and not enough about understanding.

“This is what I meant to say,” does not repair what was said and interpreted incorrectly. Not usually. In a way it’s doubling down, it’s saying, “You were wrong in your interpretation.” It’s not saying, “I messed up in my communication.”

It’s a minor shift, simple to see after the fact, but delicately difficult to communicate in a response to what was clearly my poor communication. I didn’t get the response I wanted, thus I didn’t communicate well. If that’s my premise, then what I need to do is listen to their response, and communicate about that, not what I meant to say.

It’s a subtle shift. Not an easy one, but an important one.

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.

Grade 9 for a day

Today a group of Grade 8 students who will be joining our school next year are spending the day with us at our school. Our Grade 9’s have planned the day for them. Our school only takes a few students from each of our middle schools so students arrive at our school in September knowing very few other students.

While students will be nervous today, this event really breaks the ice for students when they join us in September. It allows them to arrive at their new school already knowing a bit more of their community, both students in their grade, and older students who have already welcomed they to our community.

It’s a long day for me because we also run an after school barbecue for parents followed by our Parent Advisory Committee meeting in the evening. But I love days like this. I enjoy seeing our students welcome other students to our school. It’s fun to see the nervousness of the new students fade away throughout the day. And it’s great to feed our community.

Last year we only ran this event for an afternoon, and we didn’t run it at all during the two covid years before that. So it’s nice to bring back the full tradition, and to provide this community event again. It adds to the welcoming feeling to our school, gives our Grade 9’s an authentic leadership experience, and gives our future students a great sense of our school community.

Attention to what really matters

Yesterday I had a couple meetings that took me out of my school for most of the morning. I got back to my building and immediately started my lunch. It was about 20 minutes before teachers would be in the staff room and so I was there alone. A student saw me through the clear glass walls and asked to speak to me.

She was honoured with doing a speech at our district’s indigenous student graduation ceremony next week and she wanted advice. I invited her in, listened while I ate, and provided some initial feedback. She’ll work on it and come back to me.

Just as I was ending that discussion there was another student at the door. She invited me to see her Independent Directed Study final presentation the next day (today). I told her I’d love to see it and set an alarm on my phone to remind me.

What a productive lunch! Instead of sitting and eating alone, I got to spend time talking with students, and it was by far the best part of my day. I love that students feel they can come to me for help and want me to see them present. It reminds me of why I like my job, of what my job is all about.

It’s easy to get buried in the work of running a school. I can spend my entire day in my office and in meetings… doing important work that needs to be done. But if I don’t make time for students, if they only see me as a guy in my office too busy to talk to them, then I don’t know why I got into this position.

As I come off an extended leave due to a herniated disc, I’ve been absolutely swamped trying to get back up to speed. It’s easy to get lost in the work and to forget what really matters… our students. And if we can’t find time for them, they won’t look for us to help and support them. They won’t see us as part of their learning community. These relationships are key to foster, and moments like this lunch remind me that I’ve got to put the time in, or moments like this won’t happen.