Be Ironman

In The Martian, the Oscar nominated film based on a book by Andy Weir, astronaut Mark Watney is stranded alone on Mars for almost 18 months. He endures hardships and hunger the likes of which we could only imagine.

When his crew mounts a rescue mission, he launches himself off planet in an attempt to re-connect with them. When the first attempt fails, and they miss catching him, he is faced with a choice.

In order to get enough propulsion to be saved, he has to cut a hole in his space suit. His suit that is the only thing standing between him and the perils of space. It’s a risk, a life-threatening risk.

As he slices open his glove, he muses that he is going to fly like Ironman.

As we launch into a new school year, I’ve been reminded how many times we ask our students to take risks. We ask them as freshman to sign up for an AP course. We ask them as first graders to try to read a passage out loud. We ask them as 7th graders to step on to a stage and try out for a play.

And we promise to catch them.

I’ve been watching carefully as my one year old grandchildren (triplets in case you didn’t know) take risk after risk as they learn to walk and talk and tackle this world.

Fearless.

As adults, it can be just as hard to take risks. Retiring from a lifelong career and stepping into something new is a challenge. Taking on a new leadership role is daunting. Picking up a new hobby, forging new relationships, trying something new is a risk.

But with risk comes reward.

Playing it safe might be easier, but as we kick off a new year, consider what you could gain by taking a risk.

Is there something you’ve always wanted to do but were afraid to try?

Is there a place you want to visit? A person you want to get to know? Something you want to learn?

Take to risk. Punch the hole in your space suit.

Be Ironman.

Tony Is Wearing a Tie


…and his name badge

One of the funniest moments on a recent Zoom was when a friend stopped the meeting right in the middle of it and said, “Can we just pause for a minute and ask why Tony is wearing a tie.”  I work with someone who gets up everyday and puts on a dress shirt, a tie, and his badge.  Even though he is working remotely.

It helps him maintain some sense of normalcy in a time that feels anything but normal.

But is there really such a thing as normal?

I want to start by saying that it is okay to not be okay right now.  People are sick.  People are dying.  People are losing their jobs.  People are staying home and feeling isolated or going to work and feeling scared.  

Of course we are not okay.

But it’s also worth noting that it is always okay to not be okay.  We don’t need a global pandemic for permission to feel sad or scared or angry or depressed or anxious.

Or happy.

Usually we are okay.  Sometimes we aren’t.  That’s normal.

This is not a “new normal” as some have called it.  This is just what is happening to us right now.   I think we have a unique opportunity to teach this to our children.  Every day is different.  Some are easy.  Some are hard.  Years ebb and flow, and obstacles arise that throw us completely off course. 

We face challenges, and we overcome them.

If resiliency is one of the things our children learn through this, they will be better for it.  This is likely not the first, and definitely not the last challenge they will face.  Hopefully they will not be on a global scale again, but no one’s life is free of obstacles.

It’s healthy for our children to see us struggle.  It’s normal.  It’s also healthy for them to see us persevere.  It’s normal.  It’s also okay for them to see us reach out for help.  That is most definitely normal.

So wear a tie.  Or don’t.  Curl up on the couch and watch Netflix or go for a walk or eat a giant tub of ice cream.  Or don’t.  Find what feels normal today.  

There was a before and there will be an after. That’s always the case. Today is today.  Take it for what it is.

Hello Sunshine


I  am currently obsessed with audio books, and the Reese Witherspoon Book Club (Hello Sunshine) has provided more than its share of entertainment.  The books are great, but it is the bigger context that I appreciate more.

Movies are my thing.  I see them all.  (Well, that’s not completely true.  I am not a horror movie girl.  But I see the rest.)  And Reese has figured out the secret to amazing movies and mini series.  Find the best books.  Buy the rights.  Make the movie yourself.

After the success of Legally Blonde, she made sure to be a producer on the sequel.  But it was Wild where she discovered her current formula for success.  Book.  Rights.  Movie.

Gone Girl

Big Little Lies

Little Fires Everywhere

Something in the Water

Reese has spoken openly about the trajectory of her film career before the formula.  “Mostly forgettable movies.” The scripts she was getting were not what she wanted to make.  So she started making her own films.  Amy Adams is doing the same thing.

There is a lesson for us in the formula.  Less in the formula, I suppose, than in the importance of finding your own formula.

Find your own projects.  Be your own producer.

Sometimes it can feel like life is happening to us.  Like we are less in the driver’s seat and more in the backseat.  Unless I am on vacation, I have never wanted to be the one letting others take the lead.  I guess that’s why Reese and Amy and all of the CEOs and politicians and other strong women saying, “My turn,” inspire me.

Find your book.

Buy the rights.

Make your film.

You Are Loved


A friend asked me this week why it all has to be so hard, and I honestly didn’t have an answer for her. But it is. Life is hard. Not all the time, not even most of the time. But some of the time life is very, very hard.

I think we have to be honest about that. I think we have to acknowledge that sometimes we are sad or angry or overwhelmed. Sometimes we are scared. Sometimes we feel alone even when those we love surround us. Life can seem almost unbearable at times.

We can feel that way and still be positive people.  We can acknowledge that and still know that life is good and things work out.

Today I just want you to know that you are loved. You are valued and treasured beyond understanding. You are seen. You are known.

Today may be hard, but it will get better.

Today you may feel despair, but you will feel hope.

It might not be tomorrow, but hopefully soon. Just know that it will get better.

There is help. There are people in your life who will listen, and there are professionals who can support you whenever you need it. Asking is not showing weakness. Asking is showing enormous strength.

There are lots of questions in the world that I cannot answer. There are so many things I do not understand. But I know this. You are loved. You are seen.

Slow and Steady Wins the Race

This week was state cross country, so it hardly seems fair to say that slow and steady wins the race.  But more times than not, when looking at a situation over time, slow and steady wins the race.

Cross country student athletes have been running for months to prepare for that race.

Marching bands have been waking up at the crack of dawn to practice since summer.

Our students have been putting in the time to prepare and our coaches and directors have been putting in the work to help them grow. So many fall activities are reaching their peak right now.  As we watch the final moments, it’s easy to forget the work that went into the moment.

That’s what I took from the Husker win this week.  After the first game, we’ll technically after the second game, I blogged about hoping the coach and the student athletes would stay Calm in a Crisis.

We live in a state that takes its college football seriously.  I can only imagine the pressure the team feels every year. But the only way to win is to take it slow and steady.  One practice at a time.  One lesson at a time. One moment at a time.  That’s how you change a culture.

Any culture.

There is a powerful lesson in that for us as leaders.  Vision becomes reality slowly.  It takes calm, consistent focus.

Pause long enough to recognize where you are on your own journey.  It’s true that a journey of a thousand miles behind with a single step.  Each one of those steps matters.

Mettle and Heart

Much is said in education today about grit. We know more and more about the need to help build resilient children, so they can persevere through struggles of all kinds. Whether social emotional or academic, life is not always easy for the students in our schools. Some have suffered trauma that is almost unimaginable. Some work harder than we will ever know to complete their homework and come to class ready to learn.

It takes grit, resilience, mettle, and not just for our students.

Every day the teachers in our schools are doing almost unimaginable work to help our students be successful. Whether social emotional or academic support, they go above and beyond to meet the needs. This job is not for the faint of heart.

I watch with amazement as teachers sit beside students trying to solve complex problems, prompting and questioning until that magical lightbulb moment.

I watch as teachers give high fives and hugs and tie shoes and zip jackets. I watch as they ask about the soccer game or the dance recital, as they celebrate with students after the musical or the basketball game.

And I watch as they worry about the student who needs a new coat or who might not get any gifts at Christmas.

Yesterday I saw post after post about the families who were adopted and the gifts and meals that were handed out by teachers and administrators and counselors and community members who come together every year to help through an incredible community organization called Project Wee Care.

I was once again amazed by the heart of our teachers.

I caught part of an old movie this weekend, The Guardian. It’s about rescue swimmers in the Coast Guard. After a particularly harrowing experience, the young trainee asks the experienced teacher how he decides who to save. The answer has struck me over the years as a decent motto for the work we do.

“I swim as fast as I can, as hard as I can, for as long as I can. And the sea takes the rest.”

I read a message last week from someone who implied that because we cannot do enough, we should do nothing at all. No one I know in this profession believes that. Everyone I work with in our schools and in our districts believes that each and every child deserves our best effort, and each and every child we can help was worth the work.

This is not easy. It can feel overwhelming. It takes grit, mettle. But it is the most important work I can imagine. And in this holiday season, I am grateful for the teachers who put their hearts on the line each and every day to do whatever it takes to help. You make a difference in the lives of children.

When Your Best Isn’t Enough

We’ve all been there.  All of us.  At one time or another, we have all attempted something and come up short.  It might have been something as small as a grade on a paper or a test when we were in school.  It might have been something bigger like training for months to set a personal record in a half marathon.  Or it might have been something truly life-changing like taking a high-profile new job in an unfamiliar place halfway across the country.  Big or small, there is something especially painful about investing your time and energy into something, working hard, truly doing your best, and having it not be enough.   We’ve all been there.

I am not talking about that time I signed up to do a 5K and then never really got around to training.  That’s on me.  I’ve jumped head-first into plenty of endeavors only to find myself too busy to really invest the needed time to do it well.  I have a collection of hobbies in the garage that never really made their way into my daily routine.  Of course I am not an expert with my bow and arrow.  I’ve hardly ever used it.

No, I’m not talking about those things.  I am talking about the things that mattered.

I am talking about the things that were worth the time and money and patience and heart to get right.  I am talking about the things that got you up at 3:45 in the morning, the things that sent you back to school, the things you obsessed over and read about and journaled about, the things that convinced you to walk away from a safe job in a familiar place with people you knew only to start an adventure with an uncertain ending.

I’m talking about the pain that comes when one of those things doesn’t work out, when your best isn’t enough.  And we have all been there.

In those moments you have a choice.  You can choose to be defeated.  You can choose to wallow and retreat and shut yourself away.  You can choose to stop taking the big risks.

Or you can stand up, face the reporters (literal or figurative as they may be), and explain that you did your best.  You can continue to wake up at 3:45 and to take the big risks.  You can choose to hold your head up, maintain the highest levels of class and grace and dignity, and honestly mean it when you say that you would not have traded the experience simply because it did not end the way you had hoped.

“That wasn’t the measure of the experience.  It’s just the way it ended.” (Aaron Sorkin, The West Wing)

Be That Person

I was at a volleyball tournament this weekend.  All of our schools were competing.  In one particular match, our team lost by two in two close games.  I was frustrated for them, and I was annoyed by the loud cheering of the opposing parents.  I was annoyed.  How dare they cheer when our team was having a rough time.  Are you kidding Heather?  Of course they are cheering.  Our parents are cheering too.  Everyone deserves a cheer section.  Every kid needs a champion.

I took a breath, cheered both teams for a battle well fought, and reflected on the people who’ve cheered for me over the years.  I’ve been lucky.  My kids have been lucky.  Family and friends and teachers and coaches have encouraged us and celebrated with us and pushed us to persevere.  We all need someone in our corner, someone on our side.

Someone I care about ran his first marathon yesterday.  An incredible accomplishment. He planned and trained and prepared and ran.  And it was not easy.  He is an amazing athlete, but it did not go the way he envisioned.  By mile 18 he had hit a rough patch.  He had to slow down; he was in pain; and he thought seriously about withdrawing.  But in that moment, he had someone in his corner.  He wrote later about how this friend knew what to say to encourage him, to support him, and to help him find the inner strength to finish.  He had a champion in that moment who made all the difference.

I’ve heard story after story about athletes who were at their breaking point when a coach or a teammate or a parent stepped in to provide the words needed to help them persevere.  And those moments are more moving than the most amazing victories.

In every school in every town in every state, teachers do that for students every day.  They sit by them as they work out the hardest problems.  They pull them in after school to review and review until it makes sense.  In the past week, I’ve been at a celebration for students who scored over 30 on their ACT and seen the same level of celebration for students at any score who worked for a 3 point jump.  Every kid needs a champion.

This week I’d challenge you to look for the opportunities to be the person who walks alongside a friend and provides the support to help them overcome an obstacle.  I’d challenge you to be the coach or the teacher who helps a child know that someone is in their corner.  And I’d challenge you to be the parent who cheers and celebrates in victory and defeat.  Everyone deserves a cheer section.  Every kid needs a champion.

#Goals

I hit a major milestone this week in a goal I’ve been pursuing all year.  I walk.  This year I’ve been walking a lot. I’m working toward a mileage goal, and it took me until the last day in August to be on track to hit the goal.  I’ve been behind for 8 months.  Eight months!  And I honestly have no idea if I can stay on track for the rest of the year.  But I’m there right now.

I’m part of an online community all working toward this goal.  I’ve been watching person after person hit the year-end goal all summer.  Most of the people in this community are runners.  The other people I know personally working on the goal are runners.  Good runners.  They finish miles so much faster than I do. It can be frustrating at times.

It’s hard to set a goal, work toward that goal, and watch so many other people beat you to the goal.  But such is life.  No matter how fast you are, someone is always faster. 

“Comparison is the thief of joy.”  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.  Okay Theodore Roosevelt said it, but I’ve agreed with him many times.

Our goals are our goals.

I spend too much time wishing I was a runner.  The runners I know are amazing!  They are dedicated, passionate, motivated.  They have cool running gear, and they talk a lot about shoes and watches.  They are fit.  Man are they fit. It is impressive.

I walk.  I walk a lot.  That’s what I can do.  And I can certainly get cool walking gear and talk about shoes and watches.  And I can be dedicated and passionate and motivated.

Our goals are our goals.

The only person we are meant to compare ourselves to is the person we were the day before.  We do not have to be faster or thinner or wealthier than anyone.  We do not have to have a better job or a bigger house or a fancier car to be worthy.

Our goals are our goals.

I have some good friends who are competitive. Several even have competition in their top five Gallup strengths.  Competition is different from personal comparison.

Competition can be healthy.  It can show us what’s possible.  It can push us and challenge us to be better than we ever thought we could be.  I’m not discouraging competition, but we should not be judging ourselves based on a comparison with others.

I am enough.  You are enough.  Right now.  Just as we are.

So set some goals that will be hard to reach.  Challenge yourself to go farther or faster than you thought you could.  But appreciate yourself for who you are and what you bring to the world.  Just the way you are.

REACH

imageI am a creature of habit.  Routines, predictability, and rituals all make me feel safe.  There is comfort in knowing what will happen next.  Every Sunday I clean the house, do the laundry, pay the bills, and water the plants.  It happens like clockwork.  If the routine is disturbed, I don’t feel like the week will go as well.  Yep.  There is comfort in our habits.

But there is not growth.

img_3190Our bodies know this instinctively.  The same 30 minute walk on the treadmill feels good.  But it does not take long before our bodies adapt to the routine and no longer reap the same physical benefits.  We have to add an incline or vary our speeds.  We have to add weights or swimming.  Mixing it up produces results.  It is harder, but it is better for us.

The same is true in other areas of life.  It is too easy to get comfortable in our routines.  It is too easy to stay safe in the same job, the same hobbies, the same predictable habits.  It is only when we reach beyond that we grow.

What were your dreams as a child?

What do you see yourself doing ten years from now?

“What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?”  (Robert H. Schuller)

This week challenge yourself to try one new thing.

Trying something new is hard.  There is risk in the adventure.  But it is only when we are willing to risk that we can truly grow.

Little Shop of Letdown

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Major milestones in our lives offer an opportunity to reflect.  Such has been my spring. And as I have been reminiscing, I have been reminded of the many ups and downs that make up a life.  For me, for my friends, and for my family, life has not always turned out the way we thought it would.  Woven through the fabric of the many celebrations and achievements in our lives are a fair share of failures.

As we celebrated an impressive freshman year and an outstanding grade in college calculus, I was reminded of the struggles it took to get through my daughter’s first AP course.  School was not as easy for her as it was for her older sister.

As we celebrated awards and honors and some amazing achievements as she graduated college, I was reminded of the devastation when my oldest was cut from the musical “Little Shop of Horrors” her junior year without ever even having the chance to read for the part she wanted.  She cried for days.

As I transition to a new job, I am reminded of the year I was so ready for my first administrative job.  I’d earned the degree.  I’d done all of the preparing, and I was sure the next administrative job was mine.  When circumstances caused me to miss the interview and someone else got the job I believed should have been mine, I was disappointed.  I was more than disappointed.

But as strange as this is going to sound, I am so grateful for the failures.  I may appreciate them even more than the successes.

With my daughter’s struggles in school came a strong work ethic, an ability to persevere, and an understanding of how to “do school”.  With my daughter’s loss of a part in the musical came an even greater ability to be humble, compassionate, and sympathetic. Having to wait for my first chance to lead as an administrator helped me learn patience and taught me that with time things work out.

My children are the amazing human beings they are today not because they have always been successful but because they learned how to respond with positivity, grace, and grit when things went wrong.

Failure is not an option.  Failure is a guarantee.  At some point we all fail.  Reaching for our dreams, imagining a different future, trying something new all mean risking failure.  And when we fail, we learn.

Take risks.  Try something that scares you.  Set what one of my friends calls stretch goals. Imagine that you can go well beyond what you thought was your limit physically, intellectually, or emotionally.  And decide now that when you fail, and you will, that you will maintain a positive attitude, persevere, and  learn from it.

Every experience, every success, every failure make us who are.  Appreciate them all!

Own Your Power

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I believe that there are certain fundamental truths in the world. I believe that having a relationship with someone is more powerful that having authority over them.  I believe that doing the right thing for the sake of doing the right thing is the most important thing we can do with our lives.  I believe that being a good person is more important than being a powerful person.  The people who I respect the most in this world are humble and kind to quote Tim McGraw.  They are also, in many cases, leaders at the highest level.  You can be both humble and powerful.  I see it everyday.

There is an inner struggle when you assume a leadership role, a battle between who you are and what you are required to do.  There are any number of decisions you have to make as a leader that have the potential to frustrate or upset others.  There are issues that divide people.  When your focus is on creating a positive culture and developing relationships, those issues can create fear.  How will your work impact that culture and those relationships?

But you cannot lead unless you own your power.

Strong leaders take the time to build the knowledge and skills necessary to run the team, the organization, or the company.  They start first by developing themselves.  They are lifelong learners who push themselves and challenge themselves to grow.  They have built relationships, and they seek out the people with whom they need to cultivate new relationships.  So when they do step into the role, they are ready to lead. And the organization needs them to lead.

But you cannot lead unless you own your power.

The best leaders are good people who are willing to do what is necessary to move the organization forward.  They have moved past the fear that others might not like them.  They are willing to make decisions and to own the consequences.  They share the credit, and they take the blame.  And people respond well to them.  We want strong leaders who are knowledgeable and decisive.  We want leaders who will take responsibility and have the difficult conversations.  The best leaders do not necessarily enjoy conflict, but they do not shy away from it.

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I am a leader.  I am blessed to be in a position where I get to voice my opinion, influence decisions, and help determine the vision for our district.  There are so many people in our schools and communities who assume leadership roles, big and small, every day.  To do our jobs well, we have to be willing to own our power.

When you are coaching the football team or the baseball team, own the decisions you make about playing time.  When parents question the length of your practice or the position you assigned their child, stand up for your choices.  Don’t hesitate when you are explaining those decisions to players or parents.  You know the skills and the talents of your players.

When you are serving as Troop Leader or President of the Neighborhood Association, be decisive.  Own the choices you make.  You are in that role for a reason.  You do not have to fear explaining the decisions you’ve made.  You are the leader.

And when you assume a job as a school leader, do it with confidence. You have prepared, and you will continue to learn. There will be any number of things about which you are not self-assured.  Do them anyway.  People need leaders who are willing to lead.

There is  nothing shameful in owning your power, the best leaders do it with ease.  You can, and should, be humble and kind.  And you can, and should, own your power as a leader.

 

50 Years from Now

256px-Bumblebee_Transformer_-_Flickr_-_andrewbasterfieldMy family laughs at me every time the movie Transformers is on TV.  Almost without fail, I jump into the story at the exact same moment…the point of inspiring motivation and life-changing wisdom. Do you see now why they laugh at me?  I may be the only person in history who has ever described Transformers as life-changing, but it is.

There is a scene early on when the first Transformer reveals himself as Bumblebee, an alien robot.  (And with that, the rest of you start laughing at me as well.  A movie about alien robots shares life-changing wisdom?)  But when Bumblebee invites the young heroes into his car, leading to unknown adventure and considerable risk, one of the main character hesitates.  The other one utters the words that I’ve been saying to myself ever since…

“50 years from now when you’re looking back on your life, don’t you want to say you had the guts to get into the car?”

Life is full of choices, chances to try something new.  These opportunities can also be filled with risk.  It is not easy to take a leap and jump into something unknown.  It is not easy to take a chance and know that you could fail, but nothing amazing was ever achieved without risk.

From our earliest years, we have to make choices about what adventures we will tackle and which ones we will let go.  Auditioning for the school play is a risk.  Trying out for the football team is a risk.  Taking an Advanced Placement course is a risk.  But those risks are necessary to create the best possible life.

Say yes!

I am a terrible bowler, but I always have a good time when I play.  I am not a runner, but I’ve finished three half-marathons. Stand directly under the frozen, powerful waterfall at Smith Falls on the Niobrara? Every time!

When people are asked about their greatest regret, they almost always list the things they didn’t do.  At the end of our lives, it is not what we tried and failed to do that haunts us, it is the times we failed to try.

Embracing this attitude is essential not just for the day-to-day things, but it is key to living the best possible version of your life.  Taking risks is necessary in order to find success.  Go back and get the degree.  Apply for the job that seems beyond your reach. Volunteer to be the one who fills in at a meeting or on a committee.

Every day there is a chance to say yes.  “Want to go to lunch?”  “I have an extra ticket to the game, want to come?” “We need someone to lead this project, are you interested?”  A good meal, a new relationship, a powerful experience might be the result.

Something we learn as we get older is that things will not always work out when we say yes.  There is a winner and a loser in all epic battles.  We only have one President.  We only have one state champion.  We only have one gold medalist. But without the risk of failing, we cannot succeed.

“50 years from now when you’re looking back on your life, don’t you want to say you had the guts to get into the car?”

 

Relentless Pursuit of Perfection

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Peyton Manning may or may not have played his last professional football game, but his performance this season added to his legacy in ways no one can deny.  His skill, his leadership, and especially his resilience cemented his place among the best of the best in football history.  What Jerry Rice brought to the game physically, Peyton Manning brings to the game mentally.  They might both be described  as genius in their chosen field.

I am a big believer in finding your sparks, your genius, and tirelessly working to become the very best at them. There are those among us who have taken their passions and pursued them relentlessly, seeking perfection.  What do they have that we don’t?  Yes, some of them have physical prowess or intellectual ability beyond what most people possess.  But those are not the things that set them apart.  It is their passion, their drive, and their persistence in the face of obstacles that makes them the best.

Say what you will about Steve Jobs, but there is no one who worked harder to make his vision a reality than he did.  The stories of his drive are legendary.  Aaron Sorkin, who wrote the screenplay for the movie Steve Jobs, is known to be just as tenacious in his pursuit of perfection.  He revises his scripts right up until the moment of shooting.

As troubled as Michael Jackson’s private life might have been, he is at the top of almost every list of the greatest performers of all time.  No recording, no stage set, no dance number was ever good enough.  He knew there was always room to make it even better.

Why is it that some people set the alarm to go off at 4:04 am every day and climb out bed to finish a run or complete a workout before heading to work?  They’ve done more before 7:00 am than many will do all day.

Why is it that some people rehearse dance seven days a week, or practice their instrument for hours on end, or write fifty pages a day, every day?  Some people have made a commitment to be the best at what they do.

I’ve wavered on the title of this blog all week.  I struggle with the conflict between done and done perfectly.  In pursuit of perfection, we are sometimes paralyzed.  “In pursuit of excellence” may, in fact, be the better title.  The goal is to be the best you can be, not necessarily to be better than everyone else.

None of this is easy.  Sleep is easier than waking up early to go for a run in the rain. Sitting on the couch is easier than heading off to the dance studio to practice the same routine for the hundredth time that week.  Snapping the quick shot is easier than waiting for hours for the perfect light to get the best possible photograph.  This relentless pursuit of perfection takes stamina and persistence and grit.  There are some people though who embrace the suck.

I don’t have competition in my top five strengths.  (We’ll pause as those who know me best say it must be number six.) But I certainly want to succeed at whatever I do.  My sparks are teaching and learning…and writing.  I was rejected by my first publisher this week.  I submitted a book proposal, and I got a polite email on my birthday that they did not feel the book would be appropriate for their readers.  I am undaunted.  I will continue to work on the manuscript.  I will finish it, and I will revise and revise and revise in a relentless pursuit of perfection.

The Struggle is the Best Part

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This feels good.  Sitting at the computer, looking out at the surprisingly still green grass and the blooming flowers in my backyard.  Typing a new blog for a new year.  This feels good!

Don’t get me wrong, summer has been amazing.  Taking time to rest and sharpen the saw is important.  I have traveled and read and napped.  I have relaxed, and I have reflected.  I feel energized.  In fact, my favorite thing about our profession is the school year cycle.  Each year we get the chance to plan, to implement, to reflect, and to redesign. We get to start anew, and I for one am grateful for that chance.

This past week we welcomed our new teachers, and tomorrow we will welcome back our returning teachers.  I know some of you still have summer left, but we are all closing in on those first days for staff and students.  The excitement is palpable.  What is your hope for those teachers this year?  What is your hope for students?

For me this time of year is about energy.  It is about sharing a vision and generating the energy to make that vision come to life.  We get the unique opportunity to start over each year.  It is a gift not to be taken lightly.  Use this time well.

In our District, we have been focusing on college and career readiness skills.  Are we doing all we can to be sure our students have not just the content but the life skills necessary to be successful in this century?  Our superintendent asked our new teachers to not just teach but to model grit and perseverance for their students.  Easier said than done.

My sister is an amazing mother.  Already so much better at things than I was when I had a 3-year-old.  I am learning from her all the time.  This summer I learned something about creating this grit and perseverance…and about modeling it.

Like I said, her son is three.  And he is curious.  She recently posted the following video on Facebook.  Of course (because he is adorable), she got plenty of comments on how cute and clever he is.  My first thoughts though were different.  I thought, ‘He is going to break those blinds.’  I am sure that if that were my child, and I was the one holding the camera, I’d have told him to stop because he might damage the blinds.  I am sure that I would have gone over, taken the cords from him, and just showed him.  And while he might have learned how to open the blinds (the content), he would not have learned to stick with something until you figure it out (the life skill).  My sister is an excellent teacher.

My hope for this new school year is that our new teachers, and our returning teachers as well, are willing to risk damaging the blinds.  A neat and tidy and quiet classroom might look great from the outside, but it is usually the messier, louder work that results in the greatest learning.

Good luck to you all as you kick off your new school year.  Enjoy the gift of a new start.