Isolated by choice

I have written this in my mind about 400 times and have never quite been able to articulate what I needed to. No one wants to listen to my sob story about getting COVID. You likely (statistically) either have had COVID yourself or know someone who had COVID. Here’s the deal though, COVID damn near killed me (literally) and brought me to one of the darkest places of my life. All that said, my experience has changed my life.

Writing this will be cathartic. Writing this will be frustrating. But I hope in writing this, someone will find encouragement and a voice. So, while I know no one wants to hear my sob story, I’m going to tell it anyway. **If you don’t want to hear it, just jump to the end – the middle is mostly for me**

July 18th, 2021 we left my parent’s house in Michigan after attending a great conference. We started to feel crummy on the drive home and stopped to take a rapid test. Laura was positive and I would be the following day. That stop is the last tangible memory I have until about 10 PM on Wednesday, July 21st. I was in a wheelchair being admitted to the hospital for COVID because of encephalitis and encephalopathy.

I got to the room. The empty, sanitized, blank room. I’ll never forget seeing the moon out of the window and the makeshift work to make it a negative pressure room. I’ll also never forget the headache. For 4 days, I laid alone.

When I got home, I struggled with doctors for months to find a treatment that would allow me to move from the bed to the couch. I spent weeks with my resting heart rate above 100 and my blood pressure off the charts. Myocarditis came and went. Pneumonia came and put me back in the hospital for a weekend. Simply put, I spent months wondering IF I would ever get back to some semblance of normal, not when.

For the remainder of July, August, and September I sat at home. Anxious about my staff. Anxious about my students. Anxious about my family both at work and at home. When you lose all sense of purpose in a matter of moments, it becomes isolating. I was embarrassed that I was this sick. Why me? Why couldn’t I kick it like everyone else? Damn, I was vaccinated?

Embarrassment turned to depression. Depression turned to isolation. I pulled away from my family. I pulled away from friends. I pulled away from everyone who loved me and when I did that, I felt a sense of isolation and alone that I had never felt before. I thought (frequently) about the burden I must be to my family. I thought (frequently) about how they’d probably be better off without me. I thought about how much of a failure I was to my district, my building, my teachers, my students. Then, that isolation turned to darkness.

I’ve had dark moments in my life. I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety my whole life, but I’d never felt what I felt. I isolated. I spent time with the person who cared about my well-being the least, myself. Writing this hurts. Writing this tears me up. But in those moments, I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to be a part of what came next.

Fast forward another 3 months and I’m back at work, finding balance and comfort in my treatments. I’m not 100% and I’m not sure I will ever be and I’ve reconciled that. The darkness still tries to push itself in, but more often than not, the light wins. Most importantly, I’m no longer in my self-imposed isolation.

I want to be abundantly clear, my story is not unique, nor is it a cry for attention. I am acutely aware of how much worse others have it. I am also incredibly grateful for the immense support and love that was provided by our family, friends, and my school district. I cannot express the appreciation I have for those who are in my circle (you know who you are).

So who the hell cares. If this isn’t a pity party or a call for attention, why even write it?

There is someone out there who is in a dark place and isolated. I was there. I see you. What you feel is real. What you are experiencing is real. But, there is a way out and it’s the exact opposite of what I did.

The moment I came out of isolation everything changed. I had a friend ask me today if being a principal was an isolating position and my immediate reflex was to say “at times, yes”. But in reflecting, in any of those “times”, it was isolating not because of the situation, but because I chose to allow it to be.

Simply put, there is always someone. No matter how dark or how deep in the water we feel as though we are, we’re never alone. We might be experiencing something that is different than someone else in each detail, but there is always someone who understands, who sees you.

Being a school administrator can be isolating if we let it. Being a human can be isolating if we let it. Looking back, in my darkest moments, I had people who were there. I had people who were reaching out, but I was pushing away. I was choosing to isolate for a multitude of reasons, but in the end, it was my choice.

If you feel like you’re alone. If you feel like you’re in a place where no one understands, where you don’t feel like you’re enough, like you’re worth what the future holds, reach out your hand. Even if it takes all of you, reach out your hand. Step out of isolation and see the community of support that exists.

Is being a school administrator isolating? Hell yeah it can be, but it can also be the most connected I’ve ever felt. Today, I had a friend reach out through Zoom to check in, a colleague text and ask “have you eaten today”, and was encouraged by someone who lives over 7500 miles away.

Is having COVID isolating? More than I can explain, but I missed the connection that was there.

In the end, my hope is that if you’re in a place where you feel isolated that you step out, reach out, and connect again. We’re not meant to go through this journey alone. It’s hard, but the help and love are there. I see you. You are enough. You don’t have to be isolated by choice.

**If you or someone you know is having a mental health crisis or experiencing suicidal thoughts, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255) or text the Crisis Text Line at 741741**

Be more like Wilson & less like Tom Hanks

Alright, so let’s make this clear to start, Tom Hanks is one of the good guys. But, unless you were living under a rock for a large portion of the early 2000s, you’ve seen (cried) Castaway. We all watched Tom Hanks (Chuck Noland) isolated on an island, fighting for his sanity, fighting for his life and we’ve all seen Wilson provide him with the semblance of sanity that allows him to persevere. We’ve all cried as Wilson falls off the raft and floats away. **I’ll give you a minute to compose yourself after reading and remembering that**

I have used this analogy lately and was able to connect with my good friend, Evin Schwartz, today and talk about this***. What I believe we need to do more in life, especially right now, is be a bit more like Wilson and a bit less like Tom Hanks. Wilson rides the wave. Wilson is eternally present. Tom Hanks battles throughout. He fights the waves and exists in either the past or the future. All of this to say, be present.

My anxiety and frustration stem from my worries about the future nearly 90% of the time. Yours may come from focusing on the past. We worry about what we said and what someone thought about it. We worry about whether this COVID stuff is ever going to end. We worry about what impact this will have on kids down the road or what impact it had on them previously. We spend time fighting the waves that just passed or fighting the waves that might be coming, ignoring the present that we’re experiencing. Simply put, we spend time fighting the time that has already escaped us or the time that is not guaranteed rather than spending time in the present.

Never in my life have I seen a wave that rose and fell, without rising again. At the moment, we may recognize the rise but we always feel the dip and when we feel the dip we have two primary options: 1) fight to rise back up or 2) ride the wave and trust that it will rise again.

If we choose to fight the waves, we run the risk of fighting through the rise, fighting the positive, and becoming more concerned about being in the water than on top of it. We quite literally cannot control everything that happens in our lives, but when we try to, we become addicted to fighting the waves. We become addicted to fighting the time that we already lost or the time that is coming. In an effort to bring ourselves back up, we lose sight of opportunities where life provides the opportunity to rise back up.

Recently I have fallen back in love with meditation, mindfulness, and breathwork. Regardless of what this looks like for you, it is the act of forcing yourself to be present. Whether it is drinking a cup of coffee and spending 5 minutes thinking about how warm the mug is, how the coffee feels as I drink it, how I appreciate the farmers who spent time carefully growing, harvesting and preparing the bean, I force myself to be present. When my mind wanders, I acknowledge it, embrace the ability to feel the emotion (as intrusive as it may be) and bring myself back to the present.

Resilience isn’t built in the moments of turmoil and stress but before they ever happen. Intentionally focusing on being present allows us to ride the wave. It allows us to acknowledge where we are at without judgment and more clearly and easily identify what we can and cannot control. Beyond all of that, focusing on being present quite literally rewires our brain****. We become better at riding the wave rather than fighting it.

Evin was telling me about a great 1-minute mindfulness practice. If you do not have one minute to invest in yourself daily, there are larger issues at play. I would challenge you to at minimum commit to one minute for one week. For the first 15 seconds close your eyes and smile. Simple, yet powerful, both mentally and physiologically. Picture someone you love in your mind smiling back. Then for the next 45 seconds take long deep breaths and focus on breathing. One minute. One minute for one week.

Listen, we’re all frustrated with things in the world right now. We’re all experiencing many of the same issues, frustrations, and concerns, but much of it is out of our control. We have two options; we can be more like Wilson or we can be more like Tom Hanks. In a world that is more than happy to push me under the water, I choose to be more like Wilson and allow myself to be present and ride the wave. Whenever it goes down, it always rises again. Ride the wave. Be present. Be more like Wilson and a little less like Tom Hanks.

***If you’re on Twitter check out @EvinSchwartz – He is doing amazing work both with his company Beluga and the #SameHere movement to bring attention to mental health. He is also just a genuinely good dude. ****Harvard Research on Mindfulness

Reacting for the better

A couple weeks ago I was sitting with my boss/mentor/friend/lifelong antagonist PJ Caposey and made the comment that I am growing to understand the concept that ignorance is bliss. Listen, the older I get, the more I learn about myself, the less I wish I knew. With knowledge comes the weight of responsibility. From that conversation, and from dozens of other conversations that have challenged me to become better, popped out this thought.

How do I find joy, purpose, value agnostic to the input of others? How do I ensure that my drive is not exclusively related to accomplishments? How do I find a balance?

So, let’s caveat that this is not a post answering those questions directly because I have a lot more counseling sessions with PJ before I learn that. But it is about one minuscule thought, that has snowballed for me.

What separates great leaders from good leaders isn’t the accomplishments, it’s their reaction to consequences, positive or negative. 

Hear me out. Every action in life has a consequence, intended or unintended, positive or negative. I find myself often times talking to staff, friends, my family about the 7 additional consequences that each decision makes. What we often think about is that truly great leaders make lots of choices that have positive consequences.

Sure – great leadership often times is about consistently making choices that yield positive results and, therefore, positive consequences. Sure – great leaders typically yield great results.

But, I think there are a lot of adequate leaders who get good results and make good choices because they have great people around them.

What makes a great leader great is how we react to all of the consequences life throws at us, both positive and negative. Listen, we’ve all had a boss/leader (not synonymous terms, but using them here) that gets good results ….. and then turns into an arrogant prick who is insufferable to be around. We’ve all had a boss/leader (AGAIN, not synonymous) who gets good results and throws a pity party because no one praised them to their expectations.

This is the point. We are quick to point out leaders who react poorly to negative consequences and those who react positively to negative consequences, but I think we miss out on how important it our reactions are to positive consequences.

Listen, great leaders get great results, but even more so great leaders react positively to ALL consequences, both negative and positive. I don’t mean happy or bubbly positive, I mean they react in a way that moves the team, the organization, and the culture forward in a positive way. This is where the great differentiate from the good.

So – back to the beginning, burden of knowledge, yada yada yada. Talking with my Dad tonight (friend/mentor/lifelong antagonist #2), I realized this, this little thought, was a way to find joy in the journey. My reactions, every single day, are something I control. My reactions, every single day, are something that can be contagious and have the potential to more us forward. How I react to every consequence, I control.

Tomorrow – I have the opportunity to be great. I have the opportunity to react to a nearly limitless number of consequences. Some I create, some I will not, but I get the opportunity nonetheless. Tomorrow, you will to.

What will be your reaction?

I’m Tired

As I sat in a training today, I called my boss and mentor. I told him I was tired and that I was struggling with a couple things. I had to have a couple of tough conversations later in the day. I have a long list of things left to do. I’m tired. I’m not burned out. I’m tired. I’m physically tired from a few weeks of relentless hours pushing toward the end. I’m emotionally tired from having my students, my staff, my students families, our school, not to mention my own family on my mind nearly 24/7. I am a Type 3 (enneagram) and my deepest desire is feel as though I am providing others value and that I have worth. I feel like I’ve exhausted that. My cup is running empty. I’m tired.

BUT

When I sit back. When I really think about the journey. When I think about this game of life, I realize, I am exactly where I want and should be. I am exhausted. I am tasked with and called to being a change agent and I have poured everything I have into doing that this year. It’s the 4th quarter and I’m exhausted. But, I’m ready to take the last shot. Give me the damn ball because whatever it takes, I am pouring everything else I have out over the next 2 and half weeks for my students, my staff, my school and my family. I’m tired, but you better believe, I am proud to be tired.

For all of my fellow teachers, leaders, educators, and anyone else feeling like you’re at the end and you’re wiped. Be proud. You poured out your bucket. You gave it everything you had in the game this year. Be ready for the ball every moment over the homestretch, but be proud. You matter. Continue to fill your bucket over these last few weeks, so you can turn around and pour it back out. But stop feeling guilty for giving everything you have over these past 9 months. Demand the ball and give it some more! Champions don’t take it with them, they leave it all out on the court.

Now, I’m tired, but damn if I’m not ready to run.

Data Rich. Information Poor.

I began to write this and had a paragraph about all of the qualifications I have to speak on this, but it doesn’t really matter. In the end, this is my belief and regardless of my qualification to speak on it, it drives my behavior, my conversations and my practices.

In education, I firmly believe we have created a data rich culture. We have data from the school report cards, from standardized testing, surveys, evaluations, interventions, assessments, behavior, and so many more. In all likelihood, for most students, we have nearly every metric we want to have on them. The problem you ask? We have no idea how and what to do with it! We stare at the mountain of data and then go on with same lesson, same assessment, same scope and sequence as we always have. We do the same thing and expect different results. I think there is some well known quote about doing that.

My general thesis is that we must become more information rich. We must do a better job of understanding what we want to do for our students. In nearly every evaluation conference I have with teachers, I ask “why is this lesson important and appropriate for this group of students, right now?”. Seemingly an easy answer, but I would measure to guess that for many teachers throughout the nation, that is a difficult question to answer beyond, “well the scope and sequence says we should” or “this is the next lesson in the curriculum”. Presented with a mountain of data, we still don’t understand why we teach our students what we teach them.

So what then? This seems like a lot of complaining and not so many solutions. So here area  few steps that I think we can take.

1. Identify a finite number of quantifiable variables to relentlessly track
   • There is a mountain of data and you categorically cannot make pivots based upon all of it. Determine the BIG metrics you care about and track them relentlessly. But don’t make it a secret. Communicate it with staff. Provide them with the ownership of what to track, how to analyze it and how to make instructional, curricular and practical changes.
2. Teach others how to analyze, not just collect data
   • In my experience, educators (whether teachers or administrators) are far stronger at collecting data than they are at analyzing it. At times this is because of the sheer amount of time it takes to manually collect the data. Step back for a second and do the cost-benefit analysis. Which is a more valuable use of time? Collecting and inputting data or analyzing and reviewing data. You can’t teach them to analyze if they spend all of their time collecting and inputting it.
   • In teaching others how to analyze the data, teach them how to ask questions. Data is only valuable when it stems questions. Growth happens in the moment of disequilibrium. Data should provide this environment and provide meaningful questions. These questions then stem the foundation for change.
3. Demand adjustments
   • Data should ultimately spur change. It should cause pivots in instruction, in the sequence, pacing and differentiation of instruction. When data is used but changes nothing, it is a wasteful practice. Demand adjustments. Provide support, create a plan, and provide accountability to make adjustments.
4. Don’t ever lose sight of the student
   • In the end, all of this is about students. Our job is students. Data provides us with greater insight as to how to support and develop them into the young boys and girls, young men and women and people we know they can be. Data should provide us with the lever to constantly see greater in them than they see in themselves. Data should provide us with the lever to help them shatter the ceiling of potential. Data isn’t just numbers. Data can and should be our tool to allow us to do our best so they can be their best.

This July, I will be speaking at the NAESP National Conference in Spokane, WA on this topic. If you’re out there, I hope you can come join me as we dive deeper into the practical next steps.

One More Time

There is a video from my childhood that will never leave my memory. We watch it nearly once a year with my family and laugh. I am not sure how old I am but I can’t be older than maybe 4 or 5. We’re in my backyard and I’m playing baseball with my dad. He throws the ball, I hit it, but not well. He says “one more time” in an encouraging voice, runs over and grabs the ball. I think you can guess where this is going. About 10 minutes and 20 throws later, he is still running to get the ball and imploring me to hit it “one more time, dude”. This video isn’t just a funny artifact from my childhood, it’s at the core of who I am and the primary lens that I view our world through.

Often time we are so focused on the destination that we forget to find joy in the journey. When we watch the video, I don’t get frustrated, my dad doesn’t get frustrated, we keep going, one more time after one more time. When talking with my dad about the video, he just wanted me to end on a good hit. But I think if that is all he cared about, the video wouldn’t be as heartwarming and funny as it is. He wanted me to feel good about myself. He wanted me to enjoy playing a game that he loved as well. He wanted to build a relationship with me. He demonstrated in that moment that he cared far more about the journey than the result.

That journey hasn’t always been smooth. One of my favorite quotes comes from Teddy Roosevelt. He said “nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty”. Simply put, smooth seas don’t make skilled sailors. My dad and I have had our ups and downs, but neither of us care about the destination, we care about the journey. Next week I leave for a 4 day trip with my dad to DC to celebrate his 60th birthday and there isn’t a place on Earth I’d rather be. He was the best man in my wedding and arguably my closest friend, but we certainly had days, weeks, months and years where it was extremely tough to step up and want to hit “one more time”.

I said before that this journey has shaped the lens I view much of the world through and education isn’t any different. Each year, each semester, each quarter, each day, we step back up to throw the ball one more time. We throw a ball in hopes that our students continue to improve, continue to grow, feel a sense of worth and value, and ultimately that they “end on a good hit”. But it’s a long game. I didn’t thank my dad at the end of the video. In fact, I don’t think as I write this that I have ever thanked my dad.

In a little over a month, millions of educators across the country are going to return to a school and classroom with a group of students eager to take a swing. Will you be willing to continue to make the throw? To continue to run after the ball with enthusiasm each day? I’m not sure anyone went into education to see a particular score on a standardized test, we went into education to make a mark on students lives. When times get tough, when you keep throwing the ball, will you demonstrate that you care more about the journey than the result? Will you demonstrate that you care more about the relationship than the score?

We have a profound opportunity to leave a lasting impression on our students lives. We have a profound and humbling opportunity to help shape the lens and frame through which they see the world. Todd Whitaker says that “the best part about being a teacher is that it matters. The hardest part about being a teacher is that it matters every singly day.” When things get tough, when you feel drained, don’t forget about the journey. You didn’t get into education for the result, you got into education for the journey. Don’t forget why you do what you do. Continue each day to fall in love with the journey. Fall in love with making the throw one more time.

Educators don’t often get the thank you they deserve. For all of my teachers, mentors, and role models, thank you. Education and educators are often the greatest practitioners of delayed gratification. But when you get that thank you, remember it wasn’t about the result, it was about the journey and the thank you is simply confirmation of the purpose in your passion. Next week I go to DC with my dad. I think a thank you is on the agenda.

One Word 2018

First of all, I am coming off of the high of actually finishing a New Years resolution last year. If you didn’t read my last post, I set a goal to read 100 books and ended up reading 101. This year I have some resolutions, but they are all tied into my #oneword.

My one word for 2018 is Build. I went back and forth between build, invest, and present, but at the end of the day it all becomes semantics. At the end of the year, I want to be able to look back and see that I have worked, invested and been present in building relationships. I want to look back and see that not only have I become better, but I have worked to build capacity and skills in others as well.

Build at School

To me, this encompasses my goal and hope of continuing to build relationships with everyone who touches our great district. It’s about building my pedagogy, building my skills, but more importantly it’s also about building capacity in others. If I want our building to truly become greater than it is, I must work to build capacity and skills in everyone.

Build at Home

This is a big one for me this year. My daughters are getting older and I’m never going to get this time back with them. Being present and building my relationships with them, with my wife, and investing in our family is important.

Building Myself

I read 100 books last year and I don’t particularly plan to do that again, although I want to continue reading. I do recognize that I need to continue to build my knowledge, but also invest in myself mentally and physically. I had a couple of times this last year where I got into the gym consistently, my goal this year is to get to the gym at least 2x per week. My goal is to read 45 books.

100 Books

Last year, I set a New Years resolution of reading 100 books. As I write this, something to consider is that I’m not sure I had read 100 books in my entire life. I had just accepted a position as Assistant Principal at an elementary school, graduated with my MSEd in Educational Leadership from WIU, and just finished finishing my basement. So naturally, I thought about setting a goal of reading more books in one calendar year than I had ever read in my life. Historically, I did what nearly everyone does with New Years resolutions, I kept them for about 3 days and quickly forgot or gave up on them. I was not going to do that this time.

Why read 100 books? 

I’m not sure there is any one reason, but I can list off a few quickly. First, I was and continue to be insecure in my own intellect. I have this deep seeded fear that at any time someone else will come along who is smarter and better than me at the job I am doing. One thing I remember from playing basketball in high school wasn’t that we were the most talented team, I remember that we were the most conditioned. Whether it was from basketball or lessons from my dad growing up, I know I won’t always (more often than not, I’m not) the most talented, but I control whether or not I am the hardest working.

I had just accepted the Assistant Principal position at Highland Elementary. My entire teaching career was at the High School level. The position is only for 1 year, then I transition into the Principal role. I am confident there is someone else who is more talented for this position, but one thing I can control is who works hardest. So, with that in mind, driven by my lingering anxiety of being insufficient, I set out to build my knowledge and pedagogy in leadership through reading 100 books.

This was also an entirely realistic goal. Though reading wasn’t an innate part of my life up to this year, I know a lot of people who read 60-80 books per year. If they can do that, I should be able to read 100. Now that I have reached the end and reflect, I think it was even less so that it was a realistic goal and more-so that I believed it was a realistic goal. We’ve all been taught to shoot for the stars, because if you miss, at least you’ll land on the moon. I think this is garbage, complete and utter garbage. If we set goals that are so lofty that we could never conceivably meet them, we won’t land on the moon, we won’t even start. I realize I am contradicting myself here, but I think one of the reasons that I reached this goal is that I believed I could. It was always an attainable goal.

The Process

Reading 100 books is a marathon. If you do it right, it’s a couple books a week. No problem. I didn’t do it that way. Reading 100 books was more like a marathon with a few naps, but there is still a time limit and so every time you lay down you have to get back up and sprint. There were spots where I read like the wind and spots where I trudged along or didn’t read at all, like when Stranger Things 2 came out (no books for about 3 weeks).

The best thing about this year though is that the list of books I have is like a little timeline of my year. I can distinctly remember specific points of the year as I read through books. At the beginning of the year I read “Essential Questions” by Jay McTighe while I was creating professional development for teachers in our district. I read “Unashamed” by Lecrae Moore while we were getting new windows and a door installed in the house. I read “Clutterfree with Kids” by Joshua Becker in late February and took the TV out our bedroom. I read “Lucky Bastard” by Joe Buck, and though I still don’t enjoy listening to him talk about himself over a game, I hated him a little less. I read “Option B” by Sheryl Sandberg, and then had a close friends mother pass away. Empathy and those types of situations are not my strength, but I had just finished a book that gave me a blueprint. I read “Radical Candor” by Kim Malone Scott, and then talked to her about how I could leverage the learning and concepts in education. I read more self-published authors than I knew existed. But in the end the best thing that happened was reading became something that was a part of me, not just something that I did. Reading is no longer just something I do. I long to read. Just like watching a great show or watching a great movie, I can’t wait to see what happens next.

What Next? 

I read 100 books in 2017, but I have no desire to read 100 in 2018. Reading is a part of who I am and I will continue to become engrossed in literature for pleasure, self-improvement, and growth. But there isn’t a shot in hell I’m reading 100 again.

That deep anxiety of being somehow insufficient spurred me to read countless leadership books. The best part about leadership books is that they are relatively easy reads, and almost all of them have some great takeaways. The problem is that nearly all of them have great takeaways. As I read some great and even not so great leadership books I tried to implement what I was learning. This caused my leadership style to be scattered, vague and difficult to follow….for me. There was a point in early November where I was frustrated and feeling drained. I was trying to implement so much of the great leadership strategies and ideas that I was reading and learning about, but with that came lots of “stuff”. I was trying to change too much, go too fast, and had too little focus. Covey says to “go slow, to go fast” and I had forgotten about that.

Donalyn Miller talks about demonstrating our love of reading for our children and our students in “The Book Whisperer”. Until I read this book, I hadn’t read much fiction, focusing the majority of my reading on non-fiction, leadership related books. While they were all good, I didn’t love reading. I loved learning and feeling like I was bettering myself, but I didn’t love reading. It took reading this book to intentionally start reading fiction. I read Stephen King, Michael Crichton, A.G. Riddle, Bobby Akart and others. When I started intentionally reading for pleasure and for learning it all started to click. I wasn’t exhausted after reading a chapter. Reading for pleasure made me better at reading for personal growth. Reading for pleasure also allowed me to have an outlet that wasn’t a 60″ idiot box (or an iPhone playing Netflix).

This year I read (well I listened to 10 on audiobook) 100 books. About 27,000 pages. Over (I’m not doing the math but it’s probably a big number) words. I learned a lot about myself. I learned a lot about who I am and want to be as a leader, as an educator, as a father, and as a husband. I learned that I really like medical thrillers or whatever genre Andromeda Strain and Pandemic fall under. My wife gave me 9 new books this year at Christmas and I couldn’t have been happier. My good reads “want to read” list is already well over 100, but I’m not planning on reading 100 books this next year. I am planning on reading because reading isn’t just a habit, reading is part of who I am.

What I read

Here is a list of the books I read in 2017. Audio books are noted with an asterisk and some of my favorites are in bold with links!

1. The Innovator’s Mindset – George Couros 
2. Students at the Center – Bena Kallick
3. Above the Line – Urban Meyer
4. Contagious – Jonah Berger
5. Why Don’t Students Like School – Daniel T. Willingham
6. Inferno – Dan Brown
7. Crush It! – Gary Vaynerchuck*
8. Essential Questions – Jay McTighe
9. The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*** – Mark Manson
10. The Formative Five – Thomas Hoerr
11. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People – Stephen Covey
12. Unashamed – Lecrae Moore
13. The Dip – Seth Godin 
14. You are a Bad Ass – Jen Sincero
15. The Thank You Economy – Gary Vaynerchuck*
16. Talk About Teaching – Charlotte Danielson
17. David and Goliath – Malcolm Gladwell 
18. Furiously Happy – Jenny Lawson*
19. Conform – Glenn Beck
20. Linchpin – Seth Godin
21. Shifting the Monkey – Todd Whitaker 
22. What if? – Randall Munroe 
23. Adnan’s Story – Rabia Chaudry
24. Zen to Done – Leo Babauta
25. Lucky Bastard – Joe Buck 
26. Clutterfree with Kids – Joshua Becker
27. 52 Things Kids Need from a Dad – Jay Payleitner*
28. American Gun – Chris Kyle 
29. The Pursuit of God – A.W. Tozer*
30. Whale Done! – Kenneth Blanchard
31. Radical Candor – Kim Malone Scott 
32. Start with Why – Simon Sinek
33. The Marshmallow Test – Walter Mischel 
34. The 4-Hour Workweek – Timothy Ferris 
35. Lent Devotional Book – He Reads Truth
36. Dreamland – Sam Quiones
37. Who Moved my Cheese? – Spencer Johnson
38. Everything That Remains – Joshua Fields Millburn 
39. Good Leaders Ask Great Questions – John Maxwell
40. Drive – Daniel Pink 
41. Toughness – Jay Bilas
42. Fierce Conversations – Susan Scott
43. The 7 Habits of Happy Kids – Sean Covey*
44. Balanced Leadership for Powerful Learning – Bryan Goodwin 
45. No One Ever Taught Me How to Learn – I.C. Robledo
46. How Children Succeed – Paul Tough
47. The Power of Positive Leadership – Jon Gordon
48. Lead Like a Pirate – Shelley Burgess
49. Transforming School Culture – Anthony Muhammad
50. Best Practices of Literacy Leaders – Rita Bean
51. Empower – A.J. Juliani
52. Wisdom’s Way –
53. Dragon Teeth – Michael Crichton
54. The Leader in Me – Stephen Covey
55. The Magnolia Story – Chip Gaines
56. Hillbilly Elegy – J.D. Vance
57. The Book Whisperer – Donalyn Miller 
58. The Shining – Stephen King
59. Guided Reading – Irene Fountas
60. The Andromeda Strain – Michael Crichton 
61. Escaping the School Leader’s Dunk Tank – Rebecca Coda
62. Pandemic – A.G. Riddle 
63. Fish in a Tree – Lynda Mullaly Hunt
64. Teaching Literacy in the Visible Learning Classroom, Grade K-5 – Douglas Fisher
65. Option B – Sheryl Sandberg
66. Making Evaluation Meaningful – P.J. Caposey 
67. Consider – Daniel Patrick Forrester 
68. Who Owns The Learning? – Alan November
69. Kids Deserve It! – Todd Nesloney 
70. Lovely Things in Ugly Places – Mattie Montgomery
71. The 4 Disciplines of Execution – Chris McChesney 
72. Tribes – Seth Godin 
73. The First 90 Days – Michael D. Watkins
74. Influence – Robert Cialdini
75. Multipliers – Liz Wiseman
76. Leaders Eat Last – Simon Sinek*
77. Reading in the Wild – Donalyn Miller
78. World Class Learners – Yong Zhao
79. Blink – Malcolm Gladwell 
80. Crucial Conversations – Kerry Patterson
81. To Sell is Human – Daniel Pink
82. Ready Player One – Ernest Cline
83. Discipline Without Stress – Marvin Marshall
84. The Best Class You Never Taught – Alexis Wiggins
85. Choice Words – Peter Johnston
86. Origin – Dan Brown
87. The Unlearning Leader – Michael Lubelfeld & Nick Polyak 
88. Columbine – Dave Cullen*
89. Succeed – Heidi Grant Halvorson*
90. Beginnings – Bobby Akart
91. The Most Important Year – Suzanne Bouffard
92. Shoe Dog – Phil Knight*
93. The Innocents – Bobby Akart
94. Not Another Motivational Book – Joanna Jast
95. Level 6 – Bobby Akart
96. The Power of the Other – Henry Cloud
97. The Tipping Point – Malcolm Gladwell
98. Training Camp – Jon Gordon
99. Family Worship – Donald Whitney 
100. A Nice Little Place on the North Side – George F. Will 

Mission Statement: Reflecting on the 7 Habits Part 2

Last post I wrote about my great-grandmother Ruth. About what it would look like to have just one more conversation. I was challenged during our recent 7 habits training to try and envision this and it felt fairly vulnerable to try and express myself.

The challenge of writing my own personal mission statement though, transparently, seems much more difficult. I constantly feel as though there is quite a gap between who I want to be as a person and who I actually am. I also know that my personal mission statement shouldn’t be 17 pages and a 2 hour conversation, although brevity isn’t one of my strengths. Nonetheless, this is my go at it.

Personal Mission Statement – I will love unconditionally. I will believe deeply and passionately about that which I hold dear. I will invest selflessly in others. Most of all, I will try to be a better man tomorrow, than I was today.

As I write that, I can’t help but think of the areas I consistently fall short. I love my friends and family unconditionally, but often like them selfishly. I often believe deeply and passionately, but don’t always stand strong for what I hold dear. I think about nights when I am consumed by tweets, e-mails, projects, or whatever else I ignorantly justify to myself as more important than simple, quiet (ok I have a 4 year old and a 18 month old, it’s never quiet) time with my wife and kids. I know as I write this that my wife will read this and it feels a bit disingenuous to say that I’m anything but a husband and dad who tries to be great, but often falls short. One of the things I think I have learned on this journey is that I may not always meet my personal mission, but I certainly want to strive towards aligning my life to my mission.  *As an aside, I think justifying and qualifying my personal mission statement defeats the purpose of having a short, concise personal mission statement…..

Professional Mission Statement – I believe that all students should have access to and the opportunity for an educational experience that sets them up to be successful in life. I believe that every student has the capacity and ability to learn, demonstrates genius and has exceptional strengths. I believe that all educators, at their core, must love students. In all that I do and all that I pursue, I will work tirelessly to promote these beliefs within the educational realm. I believe that utopia can exist in education.

We must do what we believe is in the best interest of our students. I had a conversation with one of the teachers at my building a few days ago and we talked about the “utopian” vision of everyone working together, in harmony, to help all of our students succeed. I don’t want this to ever become something that is out of reach. I truly believe that we have the potential to create a “utopia” of education. If we view all students within our buildings, districts and communities as our students rather than other teacher’s students it would go a long way. In the end, it’s about the students. ALL of the students. We are on this journey together & each educator brings unique skills, traits and genius to the journey. When we combine this collective genius for the betterment of our students, when we share with each other and invest in the growth of each other, not only do we win, but more importantly our students win. I believe that a utopia can exist in education and each step we take on the journey to get there benefits our students.

One More Conversation: Reflecting on the 7 Habits Part 1

Last week I was able to take part in a training surrounding the 7 Habits of Highly Successful People. As our building embarks on a journey through The Leader in Me program, we all first must take the journey of embodying and living out the 7 Habits within our every day lives.

Two activities stood out among. The first asked how we would interact with someone who has passed, had we had another chance. In my mind there is only one person who I would want to have this conversation with, my Great-Grandmother, Ruthie. I adored Ruthie. I’m not even sure if that accurately conveys my feelings. I loved, adored, and was enamored by my great-grandmother (so much so that I named my first daughter after her). When we went through the activity, we were challenged to think about what we might ask, how we might act, and what we would say. Even in writing this I feel a strong welling up of emotion. Simply thinking about having one more chance to sit with Ruthie, to listen to her, to play dominoes is nearly enough to bring tears. When I was growing up, I was the oldest of the cousins. I (felt like I) had a special relationship with Ruthie that no one else had. I’ll never forget watching Mrs. Doubtfire about a thousand times over at her house.

But if I had another chance to have a conversation, how would it go? What questions would I ask?

“Ruthie, why did you give a 4 year old liverwurst sandwiches?!”

Maybe more importantly, “How did you get a 4 year old to LOVE liverwurst sandwiches?”

I think more than the questions I would ask, I would apologize. I would apologize for being frustrated that she didn’t know who I was when she was fighting through dementia in the nursing home. I would apologize for not being able to sit and recognize the beauty of her presence, regardless of how far away it was from her previous self. I would ask her if she was proud of me. I would ask her how she conveyed and communicated her love for me and our family so unconditionally. I would ask if she was scared at the end. If she was frustrated that she didn’t know who everyone was.

One of the greatest compliments my parents have given me throughout life is to remind me how proud Ruthie would have been with something I had done. I wasn’t a “model citizen” as a HS or college student, and certainly wasn’t a model son for my poor parents, but they knew when and how to get me pulled back up. They reminded me what Ruthie might think. It was a little bit like a “W.W.R.D.” (What Would Ruthie Do).

I can’t help but think about how I behave as an educator, parent, husband, father, friend, etc in the same respect. Am I living my life according to the guiding beliefs I have? Is what I am doing a reflection of what I truly believe and what I find important? Am I living true to what I believe is my mission? I think I miss this mark often. I get caught up in the business, the pebbles of life and forget about my big rocks. I forget about my mission. I forget about what is truly important. Luckily though, I still have the rest of today, and hopefully a lot of tomorrows to remember and reset.

If I had one more conversation, with one person, it would be Ruthie. I would ask her about liverwurst. I would ask her about Mrs. Doubtfire. I would ask her about dominoes and the shop. I would ask her how my Grandma and Mom were as kids. I would apologize that I took for granted the time I had with her, especially at the end.

In the end, I think Ruthie would be proud. Every time I look at my daughter Ruthie, I think of her. I think she would be tickled to see my family and what we have become. I think she would be proud (and empathize with me) when we watch the same movie over and over and over (and over and over and over) again with our kiddos because they love it. I think she would be proud of the man I have become, but more importantly I think she would be proud of the man I want to continue to grow into.

I may not get that conversation, but the idea of it makes me want to be a better person.