Is The Room Really That Smart?

     I hadn't heard/seen the phrase "The smartest person in the room is the room" for a while. Or perhaps it's just become such a commonly accepted truth that it doesn't register anymore. Today, though, when I saw it in a Tweet, I wondered, "Really?"
     The concept makes sense: that there is greater collective intelligence in the room than in any individual. I'm sure that's true when it comes to conglomeration of knowledge, skills, understandings. Advocates like to point to some example in which a group's estimates are averaged about something and that turns out much closer than any single stab. At the same time, however, we've probably all been in situations when the room is not that smart, mainly because of the dynamics in the room. Groupthink, domination by the loudest voice, individual biases coalescing, intimidation and fear--all these things and more can, no matter how brilliant the people in the room, dumb down the room. This can show up in meetings, through our media and information consumption (the how and the what), and in our rush to judgmental conclusion.
     Perhaps we need to add the word possibly to the saying: "The smartest person in the room is possibly the room." The goal remains admirable. To achieve it demands rethinking some of our conceptions about learning, particularly as it's tied to achievement.
     While there's been some shifting, for the most part schooling has been seen as an individual endeavor, albeit within a largely homogeneous context. Even efforts to differentiate highlight this personalization. It becomes a competition, even a sort of contact sport. Students receive individual grades. Their achievement is scaled against other students'. They are ranked. They fight for admission. Events such as the recent college admissions scandal morph the competition into a battle royale straight out of pro wrestling.
     Yes, I exaggerate somewhat. But I contend the underlying points are valid. Further, they contribute to why the room may not be the smartest person. We are not trained that way. Plus human egos can take over.
     But the potential is there; as I said, the concept makes sense. Turning that concept into reality will necessitate some shifts.
     We have to become even more mission driven, particularly in ways that emphasize the common good as being the desired derivative of individual progress. For example, "smart cities" are those which put a premium on all sorts of learning, which improves life throughout those communities. This also means rethinking the markers of success, the standards for entry, and the impediments to access.
     Tied to all that, and particularly the markers of success, we need to reflect on what we mean by  "smart." What are the things we truly value, and how do they relate to our conceptions of intelligence? Do our practices really foster them? We would have to shed our obsession with metrics, contests, and award. We would have to embrace process over product. We would have to secede from the cults of personality and individualism.
     If we can rock our worlds in those ways, then we can do a much better job at how to really make the room smarter. We must learn how to collaborate. By that I don't mean simply cordial and collegial when working together. I mean pushing and prodding each other; challenging respectfully; holding firm while remaining open; admitting vulnerabilities; adapting one's position, maybe even 180 degrees; all while aspiring towards higher, common goals.
     Yes, then the room would be much smarter. And so will each person it it.

The Irony of School Security

     I've come all-too-familiar with the pattern, to the point at which I can almost predict exactly when each step will occur. Somewhere there is a mass shooting, and within the next few days I receive several emails from companies about increasing our security. Last weekend they poured in after the shooting at a factory in Aurora, Illinois. Per usual, I systematically hit delete while shaking my head in dismay at this vulturous opportunism.
     This time, though, hitting delete didn't erase some nagging thoughts from my mind, lodged in place by several security-related items from the week. We take security very seriously here, and we've improved tremendously over the past several years. Still, we're going to have a security audit performed later this spring. Earlier in the week we'd had a presentation from the vendor, and I kept thinking about what it must be like to view the world through their lens, sensing potential threats in every corner. Last week also marked the anniversary of the Parkland shootings, and I saw a headline about how one school in Florida now has guards armed with rifles. I also read the heart-breaking story of the young girl who wrote "Love Mom and Dad" on her arm in purple marker because she was convinced she was going to die during a drill at school.
     While I've often appreciated the notion of school being a sanctuary, I always held that ideal in a more metaphorical/philosophical sense. Like a monastery, it would be a place safe from the distractions of the outside world, dedicated to learning and growth. Now we have those who feel the need to turn our schools into castles, complete with battlements and a moat, accessible only via drawbridge and through a closely-monitored portcullis. The walls would grow higher and thicker, sometimes two layers deep.
     We've also constructed symbolic and metaphorical walls in many aspects of life. Of course, the idea of a border wall dominates much of our political dialogue now, mainly because of what some consider a threat of dangerous immigrants. While I have strong opinions, I'm not going to comment here on whether I believe it's necessary, would work, et cetera.  As an educator, I'm worried about something much more basic: What is all of this teaching children? And what is the effect on me as an educator?
     In his book Team Human, Douglas Rushkoff argues that we, like the technology which has shaped so much of modern life, have begun to think primarily in binary terms. We've certainly seen that notion hold faster and faster throughout our culture. It divides us even further. Let's think about this concept when it comes to what children are experiencing as they grow up these days. In simple binary terms it boils down to this. Inside the walls, I should be (not am) safe. But outside the walls lurk loads of really bad people who want to gain entry and harm us. Ponder the implications of that. Is it any wonder we see steadily increasing rates of anxiety and depression? Ironically, the amped-up security infects us with insecurity.
     Never did I think I would have to spend so much time and energy worrying about school security. That's sad enough. But the true depression comes from something much deeper, something rooted in my very "why." While filled with bright spots, education is a difficult, messy, slow process. Sometimes it can feel thankless, and criticism is frequent. What drives great educators forward through all that is an inextinguishable belief in the potential of each and every person. And that may be the most important thing we can teach our children.
   

My Election Day 2018 Message

The following is the note I shared with employees at St. John's Episcopal School today. People's responses prompt me to post it here.

                Yesterday at the ISAS Heads of School meeting, I was talking with a friend about the state of our nation right now. We shared a fear: that no matter the results of today’s election, no one wins. We see the potential for (perhaps the likelihood of) wider division, increased vitriol, and more aggressive lashing out.
                I think, individually and collectively, our nation is tired. Bone tired. Our souls are pleading for rest and healing. Psychic and spiritual health suffers when we are battered with negative energy jolts that drive us to fear and fret rather than aspire and hope. We thrive on love, yet the air feels filled with hate.
                Hatred comes out in humans in a unique fashion. In other species hatred arises out of a survival instinct. In humans, while there is some of that, hatred often spews out of a desire to express supremacy. In current times both notions seem applicable. Whatever the cause, hatred in any form directly contradicts one of the main tenets we preach at St. John’s, which beseeches us to be a community where we respect the dignity of every human being. One of the things I most appreciate about our school is that we strive to do this.
                Always keep that ideal in mind. Do so especially on days like today and tomorrow, when people will be feeling the gamut of emotions. Some may feel nothing. You may, as I do feel particularly vulnerable at such times, when it feels as if any encounter could spin out of control. Whatever you may feel, such times challenge us to suppress our primal instincts and to invoke our higher angels.
                When you find that difficult, think of this. We are among the lucky ones. Our calling as educators empowers us to positively influence the next generation, helping them grow into the type of leaders we need, mainly by demanding and modeling the right behavior. Speaking to the heads this morning, Brene Brown pointed out that education is the most important inflection point for meaningful change on a large scale. It’s where leadership matters most. That’s truly awesome—as in great and as in awe inspiring.

An Educator's Hopes after #Parkland

     As a reader of this blog, surely you've been inspired by the teens driving the #NeverAgain movement which has since flourished since the massacre at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High in Parkland, Florida. In the aftermath of such a traumatic experience, these students have displayed incredible grace, respect, intelligence, wisdom, determination, and maturity. Surely any school, especially the more mission-driven among independent schools, would want to claim them as students. In fact, I've wondered about what a fantastic place MSD must be to produce such students.
     The students have drawn the admiring support of other students, adults, celebrities, journalists, businesses. Some of that is due to who they are and how they are conducting themselves. Much of it is due to our having finally had enough with school shootings I think it's also snapped our eyes more fully open to what these school shootings--and all the tangential issues connected to them--say about our nation.
     As I've watched these kids in amazement, I've also found myself worrying about them. Right now they are surfing along on a crest of adrenaline, which all of the media attention keeps refueling.  While it has lasted longer than usual, at some point it will end. What then? Even if it were not to end for a long time, at some point these people--not just the kids, but the adults there--will have to stop long enough to grieve and mourn and recover, likely with ongoing therapeutic assistance. When the overwhelming support becomes more muted, how will they handle the despicable vitriol some were already spewing towards them?  I want them to grow into the healthy, passionate, thriving adults they show all the potential of becoming--the adults our culture needs.
     What if their movement fails to make significant difference? What if another school massacre happens? (Sadly, I feel as if I should write "when another one happens.") Would that deepen the psycho-spiritual wounds? Will it steel their resolve, or will it burst their optimism? Will it say to these kids that once again the older generations have failed them? While we may feel as if a tide has turned, resolving tough issues in times of extreme rancor is a gargantuan task.
     So I hope we remember that these are kids. They are rising to this occasion, partially because they lack the life experience to know that they aren't supposed to be able to make all this happen. That lets them operate with a certain derring-do, but they are going to slip at times.  (Yes, they are acting better than many adults.) Meanwhile, are we, in our guilt and desperation, putting too much on them? Yes, follow their leadership; revel in their passion; voice your admiration. But please don't make them into messiahs who are going to resolve the sins of older generations. They don't need that at a time they are determining the destiny of their own generation. We can't abdicate our responsibilities for the past, the present, or the future.
     So, yes, I want their movement to work. I want new, effective legislation. I want it not just about guns, but about many things. And it's more than new laws. I want us regain our civility and our virtues. I crave leadership that unites and inspires. I want equity and justice. I hope we can discern the light shining in each person. 
     Even after all the school shootings since Columbine, kids still believe our world can become better and better and better. If education is really going to matter, we have to support them in those efforts. That's true not just for the Parkland kids. It's true for all kids.

Charge to St. John's Employees Aug '17

The following is my charge to St. John’s employees during our in-service week. I usually work from notes alone, but I’ve drafted a prose version since some people asked for a copy. So the language is not quite the same as when I speak. It also definitely loses something without the slides, so maybe you can imagine them. And while you’re doing that, maybe you can conjure a sense of my delivering the remarks with an Obama-level rhetorical flair.

The picture you see is Inspiration Point in Yosemite. That seems appropriate given point of a charge. Plus, if we are going to think about the big picture, this puts it in perspective. That waterfall you can barely make out is actually just over 2400 feet tall.

Yes, normally I give you my charge the day before we start; but I decided to do it today for very particular reasons. You know we have our board retreat tomorrow, and heads of school know each of us is just one bad board meeting away. Plus I may still be in jail come Tuesday. No, not the drunk tank; I’m attending the political rally downtown on Saturday evening, and you never know what could happen.  Just as a priest often keeps politics out of the pulpit, I try to keep them from this podium. But there are times one shouldn’t keep silent. That’s tied to why I switched to today. Maybe it’s my own needs right now, and something about this feels a bit self-indulgent. But I know that some of you feeling the same yin-yang of this week as I am. We have the exuberance, energy, optimism as we launch into the new school year. Yet we can’t ignore the larger context of cultural malaise (only way I can describe it). Inspiration, indeed, is needed; and what I humbly will try to provide. I’ll do so by talking about why a St. John’s matters so, so much, especially now.

I’d like to begin by talking about this guy. Anyone know who he is? I doubt it, but if you do, don’t say. Let me give you some hints. He was born in 1976 in Arlington, and he later went to went to St. Stephen’s Episcopal in Austin (a fellow ISAS school), where he was a near-classmate of my sister-in-law. He then attended SMU, where he became an entrepreneur, starting the EZ Laundry dry-cleaning service on campus. He moved to Nashville and started a media company selling billboards for country music, which was bought by Clear Channel. Off to Los Angeles to start the cable network Reality Central. All of this by age 30. Obviously a total slacker.. Then came his second biggest claim to fame—he and sister finished second on The Amazing Race. Do you know yet? You certainly will by Blake Mycoskie’s greatest feat: founding Tom’s Shoes.

In case any of you don’t know Toms, it works this way: you buy a pair, and a pair goes to a needy child somewhere in the world. It started when Mycoskie was visiting Argentina in 2006, and he met a woman providing shoes for children. He learned of and saw the effects of being shoeless—blisters, sores, infections, long-term consequences. Very quickly he decided to start this shoe company, first called Shoes for a Better Tomorrow; shortened to Toms. He began with very limited resources, and was quickly overwhelmed by demand after a media story. By 2013, Tom’s had donated over 10 million pairs. He expanded beyond shoes. In 2011 Tom’s partnered with Seva Foundation to focus on eyeglasses. Each pair bought led to glasses, medical treatment, even optical surgery for someone. Then in 2016 Tom’s Roasters coffee started, with each bag purchased led to week of safe water.

Tom’s has influenced several others. Schools had Tom’s shoe events for their proms. The students would get their fancy duds, then buy Tom’s and decorate them to wear to prom. The Falling Whistles program involved selling whistles to combat civil war in Congo—a program that became part of the first 8^th grade service learning capstone here at St. John’s. Warby Parker, which is a 1:1 eyeglass program. Method eco-friendly cleaning products gives part of their profits for environmental clean-up efforts. Veev, which features acai berries in beverages, donates a dollar for every bottle sold to rain forest preservation. Feed reusable grocery shopping bags provide free school lunches needy students. So the ripple effect has been tremendous.

This summer read Blake Mycoskie’s book, Start Something That Matters. At first I was plagued with all sorts of liberal guilt. Yes, I work in education, which certainly matters. But I thought about the privileged circumstances in which I’ve always done so. And it’s crucial for me to feel real purpose and meaning in my life. Meanwhile, the really big takeaway for me was that if you’re going to do something that matters, need three things. You have to care deeply. You have to imagine the possibility of better. You have to muster up the courage to act.

One I stopped wallowing in that liberal guilt, I started thinking hard about why what we do here at St. John’s matter. Maybe it’s rationalization, but we’re working with kids who will be in positions to make a real difference in the world. And that certainly matters.

The ripple effect of Mycoskie’s makes me think of the rice-chessboard story. The inventor of chess was asked by emperor what he wanted for his reward. The inventor asked that the emperor put one grain of sand on first square, and double it on each successive square. The Emperor quickly agreed, thinking he was getting off easy. Well, you can see what happened. Halfway through there were 4,294,967,295 grains of rice, and at the end there were 9,223,372,036,854,775,808.

Here’s the point—take this an analogy. And just as rice was so valuable back then, what you provide now is priceless. If you have a truly positive impact on 10 kids this year; then at some point they have positive impact on 10; then each of those ten… Very quickly you have somehow positively touched 1000 people. It’s not long until that hits a million. And that’s just one year’s worth of work. Plus—and this is truly awesome--any moment can be the one which makes that difference.

Why does that happen here so often at St. John’s? There are many, many reasons; I’ve synthesized them to three.

First, our values. Service, respect, gratitude, connectedness, civility, empathy—we bring those to the forefront and keep them there. They are our values as an Episcopal school. We don’t just talk about them; we put them into action. It’s education with a larger purpose. It’s learning what it means to lead a noble life. It’s how you foster that; how you model that.

Second, our approach to school—more particularly, our approach to learning. We see everything as a chance to learn, and to do so joyfully, and to grow through the process. We recognize that deeper learning involves a double loop. On the surface, one learns to solve a particular problem. But one is also, probably more importantly, learning the habits of learning. It’s also inherent in what we realize meaningful learning is and isn’t. It’s not just knowing answers; not just study or training. It’s more a cast of mind, an outlook, an approach to life. It’s not automatic. It requires energy, thought, even bravery. That’s because real learning is not just finding out what others already know. It’s discovering for ourselves by questioning, thinking, testing something it becomes our own.

Third, our approach puts us on the right side of history. You’ve heard me say many times we have to educate not for our past or present, but for kids’ futures, the world in which they will be living. To do so, have to accept we live in time of discontinuous change. Discontinuous, not continuous, as it can often feel because of numerous small changes. But really significant change happens through what I call the Slinky effect. Forces gather slowly, then burst forth. This pattern tends to prompt progress more than steady change does because it demands more extreme questioning, rethinking, and adaptation. Those are things one can do only if one knows how to learn, and to do it well.

We also are right side of history because of what we do. Think of it this way. If we were to look back at the 20^th century and think about the most significant events and figures, a logical selection would be World War II. This would lead us to think of people such as Churchill, Hitler, Stalin, Roosevelt. But, as important as they were, I could argue they are not really the most significant. Instead, I’d hold forth people such as Einstein, Freud, Margaret Mead, Steve Jobs, Martin Luther King, Jr. Why? They changed the way the world thinks! They caused us to re-imagine possibilities. And isn’t that what you do for kids each and every day?

More contemporarily, we live in a time of intense culture wars. We can assign plenty of blame to all points of the political spectrum and elsewhere, and we’re masters of finger-pointing. The issues are festering, heightening, gaping. There is no telling the effect on kids, now and in the long-term. Remember times like this have happened before and likely will happen again. When they do, it moves far beyond the political. It becomes ethical, spiritual, existential. While cultural, it becomes very personal. Right now, it’s gnawing at me that I taught a founder and now major leader of the alt-right. I wonder how that gangly, goofy kid became a face of evil. How does that happen?

If we look at our nation’s history, this is not something new. It has manifested itself in different ways. During one of our first presidential elections, Jefferson was scorned for owning a Koran. At different times we have feared Mormons and Catholics. We’ve spewed anger at various immigrant groups, including those from which many of us are descended. There’s been both overt and unspoken racism against Latinos, Asians, Blacks; and phobia directed towards members of the LGBQT+ community and other marginalized groups. Some of this we have forgotten. What we remember, we can’t believe we engaged in. Some of it lingers, sometimes in the form of painful scars.

But when we look at that history of our nation, we also should draw hope. We move forward, individually and collectively. The history of America, for all its dark moments, is one of gradually greater acceptance and inclusion. That is how it should be. That is why it’s so crucial that at St. John’ we stress intellectual analysis, civil discourse, character, and service. Our national history is one of gradually learning the principles we already know here, capture in our fifth tenet of Episcopal education, straight from baptismal covenant: respect the dignity of every human being. In doing so, we respond to hatred,  to what and whom we cannot understand with a Christian type of love. We strive to gain that understanding, some sort of clarity. We continue that ongoing quest to heal ourselves and the world

Ours is the type of education that will help answer the real question. It’s not how do we make America great again, but: How do we make America grateful again? Actually, it goes beyond that. The entire world needs the type of education that St. John’s aspires to provide. Because all those things I’ve talked about, those and more, they ultimately do perhaps the most important thing that people need: it’s an education that plants and nurtures seeds of love and hope.

Reliving My Childhood: Reflection on The State of Our Nation

       I was born in 1961, one of the final baby boomers, in New Rochelle, NY, a classic suburb memorialized in The Dick Van Dyke Show. When I was in 5th grade, we moved to Bedford Village, an idyllic hamlet in Upper Westchester County, with a village green and beautiful buildings from the Revolutionary period, one of which was a backdrop for the opening of Peyton Place. For the most part, I enjoyed was a very easy, non-traumatic childhood, full of sports and play and adventures. It was, however, set within the context of a tumultuous historical period, one that shaped me in many ways. Now, at 55, I feel as if I'm reliving parts of that childhood vicariously, wondering about our children's sense of what's happening in our nation.
       Growing up in the 1960s and early 70s, I witnessed the great division in the United States, whether about the war or civil rights or any other issue. We lived right across the street from a large high school, so I saw a daily parade of flower children. One day someone torched the school in an act of protest. Suddenly the demonstrations and riots that juxtaposed the battle scenes and body counts presented by Walter Cronkite seemed more real. My grandfather, whom I adored, groused about the "yo-yos" as my hair grew longer, my clothes wilder. Even at that age I embraced the movement, regularly flashing the peace sign at people. While I didn't understand all the issues, I knew what I felt and believed, as passionately as I loved the Grateful Dead (and still do). I recall cheering in front of the television when Nixon resigned. (I imagined it being that way when LBJ announced he was not running for re-election, but that was a bit before my social-political consciousness awakened.) To my friends and me, he represented everything wrong with the system. Nixon made us believe all politicians were, despite his claim, crooks, just as police were pigs and soldiers baby-killers.
       Now, with experience and maturity, while I still lean heavily towards the left, I see things with more tones of nuances and paint with a much finer brush. For instance, I value and respect police and military, knowing there are the good and the bad there as in any enterprise. I recognize and even revel in the complexities of our lives, particularly within a democracy which continues to be an ongoing experiment not just in government but also in the vicissitudes of human nature. But my gaining that perspective took a long, long time. Actually, the process continues.
       I'm very grateful that I grew up during a time that essentially forced awareness on me. In fact, as an educator and parent, I've worried about how for so long our society has been largely apolitical, perhaps even apathetic. I believe in an education that promotes engagement with the world, leading to active and contributing citizens, all of us committed to a social compact for our individual and collective betterment. We saw some of that start to change during the first Obama campaign, as young people flocked to that movement driven by hope. Whatever one may believe politically, I think their involvement is a positive. Better an active citizenry than a passive one.
       Now, once again circumstances demand our attention. I worry about what our young people are seeing, thinking, feeling, learning. What is their sense of our nation and its government as they watch the extreme political jockeying that seems absent of basic morality? Their assessment of human respect when refugees become  denigrated in the same way during the Vietnam War some called all Asians "gooks" because they all were the enemy? Who is showing them how to act selflessly and ethically and courageously? I could pose many similar questions. All of them add up to one larger, more vexing one: What are the long-term effects of what young people are experiencing right now? Don't make the mistake of thinking all this isn't touching the, either directly or indirectly.
       As it does, I pray what influences them more than anything are those scenes most evocative of my youth--those of people gathering in peaceful, optimistic protest. I like to think of it as communal affirmation of principles. It's rooted in the belief that each of us is responsible to some degree for whether or not we honor our values and potential as a nation. It's a hope which became a determination symbolized by another enduring moment from my childhood--putting humans on the moon, a moment that confirmed with the right spirit we can achieve what had been seen as unachievable and perhaps even miraculous.

How Educators Can Help Turn Back the Doomsday Clock

                So the doomsday clock has been moved closer to midnight, primarily in response to the election, inauguration, and first week of Donald Trump as president. Depending on one’s views on the situation, one may think it’s ticking faster than ever or one may think that’s an over-reaction prompted by a liberal media. I’m not going to take a position on that, and while I am going to become a bit more political than I like to in this blog, I’m trying to express this with the voice of an objective educator.

                Before I begin, however, I have to acknowledge doing so is becoming harder. Personally, sometimes I can lean so far left that I could tip over at any time. However, I try hard not to let that seep too much into my work other than how I treat people. I don’t see a school’s job as dictating what someone should think about a particular topic. But we should be teaching the right way to approach topics and how to engage individually and collectively in a search for understanding that improves us.

                That is why when I consider all the things which have so many people upset and anxious and angry and scared, I see a certain irony in the doomsday clock being moved forward when it comes to our children and their education. Yes, there are the oft-expressed concerns about what children may be learning and feeling. But I’m looking at this in more practical terms. It’s not just about the nomination of a person who seems amazingly unqualified to be Secretary of Education. It goes right to one primary purpose of education—preparing our children for the future and the world they will be entering.

                That is where the irony comes in…although irony may not really be the right word. Right now it seems as if President Trump and his people want to “Make America Great Again” by turning back to clock to an earlier time. And it’s a notion which I don’t believe can happen except to America’s detriment. Like it or not, with remarkable acceleration the world has become a highly-interconnected, highly-interdependent single system, except for some notable outliers who choose to practice isolationism and suffer for it. The issue is more than an economic one. Thriving in such a world requires an empathetic openness to other cultures and people, one that leads to a sense of “we” rather than “us and them.” Countless studies have shown how cultures benefit from the intermingling of diverse perspectives. The moves we’ve seen thus far smack of a hubris which seems to assume the trajectory of the world will change because the United States wants it to.

                But, despite whatever remains of our prominence, it won’t. History, short- and long-term, shows us that. Empires crumble; revolutions happen. Throughout the ages there have been doom criers. Yet the world continues to progress. Despite what we often think and feel, the reality is that it is less violent and moreaccepting place than ever. But recently we should be feeling true urgency. Perhaps now more so than ever, as educators we need to be thinking about how we help our students be a meaningful part of that forward march. Without engaging in extremism or proselytizing, we have to model the ideals and have the important conversations. Our students can be the ones who get that doomsday clock turned back. And that isn’t about liberalism or conservatism, Democrat or Republican, internationalism or jingoism. It’s about what should drive educators at any time: an optimistic belief in humanity.

Not Knowing and Leadership

       While I believe it's inherently wrong, perhaps even harmful, to reduce education to a single overarching objective, I'm going to do so here for the sake of my argument, albeit with a caveat. That is, the objective I'm going to assert can play out in endless ways. It's the notion that a meaningful, purposeful education prepares one to lead. To lead by being who one is in whatever roles one plays. And just as we rethink what it means to be a leader, we need to rethink what it means to be educated and ready for that role.
       Last month I sent out the following Tweet:

Love this from @tomfriedman Thanks for Being Late: leadership now about multiplying credit. #isedchat pic.twitter.com/EFnbJwSEIL

— Mark Crotty (@crottymark) December 22, 2016

When I saw it, I found myself recalling The idea of level 5 Leadership from Jim Collins' work in Good to Great, particularly the notions of modesty, looking out the window to apportion credit, and setting up successors for even greater success. Then a couple of days ago, I ran across a Fast Company blog post titled "Why Real Leaders Have Strong Egos and That's a Good Thing." The author, S. Chris Edmonds, writes, "In practice, 'having an ego' simply means understanding the worldview through which you act--in order to get your own needs met as well as the needs of others. And that, of course, is in every leader's job description." He contends this "takes discovering how you--uniquely--can support both yourself and other people to go through the same process, to 'self-actualize' in reaction to all the messiness of business and life."
       It's not the time-honored definition of a leader. I also suspect it's not one overtly taught in most schools, although we talk about developing leaders. I think that's because of what our culture--and, by extension, schools--defines as being educated. We use terms such as smart and knowledgeable, as if there is a clear and easily defined threshold, and one must present it with surety and gusto, even bravado. Many people draw a certain security from that, wanting to believe our leaders know just where we are going and how to get us there.
       But in such volatile times--the age of accelerations, as Friedman calls it--is that really what we need? Just as Edmonds points out many of misunderstand the concept of the ego and should reconsider its role in healthy human development, let's reconsider knowledge/education and its link to leadership. The second most important knowledge may be the continual realization of just what we don't know, individually or collectively. And the leaders we need may have the first most important--a sense of how to help us all figure things out together.

The Post-Election Challenge for Educators

       After the recent presidential election, as a school leader I felt the need to share some thoughts with faculty and staff. Their reaction has prompted me to post it here as well. I hope it provides some food for thought, a bit of comfort, and a ray of optimism:

Dear St. John’s,

            Obviously the recent Presidential election has triggered strong reactions across our nation. Naturally, that holds true for many at St. John’s, a school full of passionate, thoughtful people who hold diverse perspectives.

            At such times, people experience myriad emotions, all valid and needing to be worked through. Doing so may take some of us a long time. Perhaps like me you find yourself swinging wildly across a gamut of feelings while groping to make sense of it all.  If your candidate lost, you may be angry and despairing. If your candidate won, you may feel joyful and misjudged. You may wonder about people you have considered colleagues and friends. Whatever the case, we must not let recent events divide us. Always we should uphold our fifth tenet of Episcopal education to be “an inclusive community where the dignity of every human being is respected.” Such respect begins with striving to understand. If we don’t, we tend to demonize.

            Even before the campaign, our nation was beginning to fracture, mainly because of fear. We live in what’s been called “the age of anxiety.” Depending on our particular circumstances, we tremble with fears real and imagined. They are personal, often intense. Fear can overwhelm everything else. It causes that fight-or-flight reflex. It lurks in the reptilian, most primal stem of our brains.

            We have evolved far beyond that. We can rise to our better nature, to evoke our higher angels. We can gather our courage and tap into the unique human spirit comprised of heart, mind, and soul. It allows for rationality and empathy and forgiveness and compassion and love. It urges us to seek unity in an ongoing search for the ideal, with hope a shining beacon.

            Such optimism propels our individual and collective mission as educators.  The challenge of this historical moment is how we seize it to become better educators in all aspects of our lives.  To educate shares its etymology with educe, meaning “to bring out something latent.”  Our ultimate calling is to educe that which is potentially awesome, not only in our students but also in ourselves, in each other, and in our nation. I urge that we strengthen our resolve to do just that. Thus we will foster the safety and healing and love our world needs, now and in the future.

            In the meantime, if you wish to talk about this or anything else, as always I’m here for you.

Sincerely,

--Mark

The Independent Schools We Need--Now More Than Ever

        The current presidential campaign, particularly in the past few weeks, has many schools wondering how to respond. They're wondering about the trickle-down effect, from kids' behavior prompted by poor adult modelling to topics in civics classes. The worry may increase after tomorrow night's debate. It's understandable, and some schools have suffered quite unsavory incidents. Plenty of resources and guidance exists in various places, so I don't intend to offer much in the way of specific here (no "top ten ways to deal with political nonsense"). It's not my real point. Besides, I suspect the answer lies in some things that have always been true about proper behavior and great education. And while the angst is genuine in the immediate, I hope it also prompts some larger reflection, especially for independent schools.
       As part of that reflection, first we have to acknowledge that this is not a new problem, suddenly roaring into existence the past few weeks or even few months. It's existed throughout the campaign. In fact, it's become politics as normal for a long time. I wrote about it last January in this piece and in another post linked within it three years before that. Our political system has become one of anger and divisiveness, with black-and-white thinking spurring hard-line action. Meanwhile, the populace likes to throw stones at politicians. But cultures, like individuals, reap what they sow. The whole thing feels like too many Internet fora come to life. In a way, in their past independent schools have been a part of the problem, given the status many held as bastions of privilege, ensconced on our glorious campuses and blissfully ignoring social issues.
       But in our modern manifestations, that is no longer the case. In times such as the current one, the best thing we can do for ourselves, along with the families and students we serve, is to re-emphasize and commit to what independent schools are supposed to be about. Yes, our missions play out in different ways within particular cultures; and the work is exceptionally complex and ethereal. But we can distill it to three key qualities:

• earnest, dogged intellectualism within the context of holistic human development;
• critical examination of topics via rational discourse;
• humane, civil behavior guided by a firm ethical underpinning.

They are those things so missing from the campaign and often from our culture. So it's not the time for us to be blindly partisan, but to live up to our names and be independent. We have to resist the larger culture so our students can grow up to be the ones to improve it.

Litmus Test for Leadership

       In many ways, leadership is complicated. And the larger the organization, the more public the role, the more complicated it becomes. Still, no matter what variables, it's multi-faceted. Psychology, sociology, vision, small details, policy--we could create a lengthy list of all the elements a leader must consider. That said, leadership can be distilled to one overarching objective: fostering and preserving the desired culture.The litmus test comes when something or someone threatens that delicate framework.
       Observing the US presidential campaign this year has provided some important lessons in leadership. Now, I suspect you may be thinking that I am about to join either the anti-Trump or anti-Clinton side. I'm not. Nor am I about to defend and/or support either one of them. I could, but I won't, even though I have my opinions. But I am going to focus on Trump's campaign in making my argument because it captures a larger question about leadership: when to take the strongest possible stance despite the possibility of personal loss.
       While many express surprise at his becoming the nominee, perhaps we shouldn't be. After all, in deciding to follow, people often become a cult of personality. (Anyone else remember the song by Living Colour?) Plus Trump has tapped into what seem increased levels of frustration, fear, and loss. Those are much easier to whip up than confidence and optimism, meaning they can overwhelm rationality. Ironically, in a very basic way--though coming at it from a very different angle--Trump is delivering the same message that Obama used to fuel his successful run in 2008--that politics as usual is broken and we need change.
       Of course, that very different angle is what has so many people upset about Trump. His comments and tweets on just about every topic have infuriated people. These include many prominent Republicans; they worry that they have lost their party and may never get it back. People like party leaders Paul Ryan and Mitch McConnell state their "strong disagreement" with things that Trump says, but they go only so far in their denunciation. As leaders--as the educators of their followers--everything they do sends messages subtle and overt.
       I understand the political delicacy of their position. But I also know, no matter how hard it may be, what I would need to do with an employee who were to rip at my school's cultural threads. It's part of honoring all those who have built something and all those who strive to preserve its best qualities. If the leader doesn't do that, it slowly crumbles and then collapses.
       Meanwhile, many wonder if the latest Trump-ism will be the straw that breaks the back of his campaign.  I wonder at what point supposed leaders have flunked the litmus test.

A Course Idea Both Parties Should Support

       Listening to President Obama's State of the Union address  and South Carolina Governor Nikki Haley's response, I couldn't help but be reminded of a post I wrote three years ago. In it I decried the current political climate and wondered about the lessons it teaches children. One excerpt reads:

 I’m wondering more about what lessons young people are gleaning from what they witness. What are they learning about leadership? About constructive debate? About seeking compromise? About thoughtful deliberation? About respectful disagreement? About respect in general? About working together for the common good?
                This last point is crucial. We face enormous problems—energy, environmental, financial, technological, infrastructure, international—which will require our collective resources to solve. However, we continue to squawk about our disagreements to such a degree that we cannot collaborate in any fashion. And the frightening thing is divisiveness tends to breed greater divisiveness. When and how does it end?                In the big picture, I don’t know. Perhaps when some situation becomes desperate enough that we have to pull together.  In our own corners of the world, we can help children by asking questions and initiating discussions with them. At just about any age, children have reactions and opinions, often laced with insight that we can neglect in our busy adulthood. We must model the desired behavior. Simply put, to have the type of political leaders and citizenry we want and need, we have to nurture the essential qualities. It’s hard, slow, often messy work. It’s vital work. Imperative work. (Full post here.)

Now I have to agree with the President's statement of regret that the situation seems to have worsened.

       One positive that I've been thinking about is what a fascinating time this would be to be a history or political science teacher. Or an teacher with a predilection to consider what I'm going to describe.

       Think about the current presidential campaign. Of course, currently the rise of Donald Trump is receiving a majority of the attention, with Ted Cruz becoming a more prominent figure.That's on the far right side. What is not receiving nearly as much attention--but is perhaps just as telling--is how well socialist-leaning Bernie Sanders is doing in the polls. So we have both extremes with plenty of support. It's a fascinating development to consider; we could read multiple, varied implications into it. Is it that people are just fed up with the norm? Is it an even further extension of the divisiveness I describe above, moving from political chambers to the larger public? Is it an Internet forum coming to real life? In many ways, both the extremes run counter to some basic American tenets, from basic human rights to capitalism. While I'm not enough of a historian to know for sure, I have to think this is one of the most extreme times in American history. Even if it's not, I think my proposal has merit. I'd love to see a course focused on the current election with, to borrow theme of Steven Johnson's latst book, a focus on how we got to now. Studying history is learning a story. I'd like to see this one told backwards--to take some of these ideas and use them to unpack history. For example, some of what has been proposed about refugees could lead to a fascinating exploration of issues regarding immigration since our founding. Or one could look at various takes on wealth and issues that spin off from that. If not a full course, perhaps an ongoing unit within a course.*

       Even if one proceeds chronologically, taking such an analytical approach to any area of study is important for another reason. Besides what kids learn from the rancor and discord, such extremism tends to strip away critical thinking and sense of nuance. So I am reminded about another my posts as well: "Help Students Pop the Filter Bubble":

Pariser writes, "Democracy requires citizens to see things from one another's point of view, but instead we're more and more enclosed in our own bubbles. Democracy requires a reliance on shared facts; instead we're offered parallel but separate universes" (4). Innovation and creativity lie at the heart of economic development, yet we're removing much of what can fuel them. Our diverse world is becoming more and more interconnected and inter-reliant; yet we dwell in a world that can foster narrow-mindedness.

     With our students growing up in such a world, schools have an even greater obligation to reconsider their large-picture mission. It's about how to live a meaningful life in such a world. That means awareness and critical thinking, not mere fact accumulation. That means helping students make connections, not keeping disciplines separate. That means learning to ask the right questions, not mere bubble coloring. That means grappling with relevant problems, not made-up examples. That means collaborating with diverse groups, not working in isolation. That means learning to use powerful technology, not letting it use us. That means helping them pop the filter bubble.

This notion is, of course, directly tied to points made at the start of the post in that we can't erase the bile until we're able to develop the necessary perspective and empathy. If we can help students in this regard, then we can take heart in knowing that we care producing the sort of leaders who can fix the current mess.

*Long ago I taught an American Lit class--really American Studies--in which I took this approach. We began with One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and asked, "How did we end up here?"

Leadership Based on The Why

       During both our recent in-service week and our board retreat, I led everyone through an exercise based on the rather simple yet profoundly revealing idea that drives the thinking in Simon Sinek's Start with Why: How Great Leaders Inspire Everyone to Take Action.

(Here's a link to the book, and here's a link to his TED talk.) The basic premise is this: that those organizations which focus on the why are much more inspiring. As you might expect, Apple and Southwest Airlines are two primary examples. As Sinek repeats several times, people don't buy what you do; they buy why you do it. It's because these companies touch something very visceral in us. He captures this notion in what he calls the golden circle. It looks like a three-ring target. At the center is the why. As one moves outward, next comes the how and the what. Sinek argues that too many companies begin with the what and sometimes the how, but that they really aren't sure of the why. Well, at least not in any sense beyond wanting to make a profit, which he calls a result. Here is a set of graphic notes which capture the thinking:

       For the workshop I had small groups create a golden circle for St. John's Episcopal School. People went at it in different ways, but they ended up with a great deal of alignment in the center, albeit with some semantic differences.That, of course, was both affirming and gratifying. It explains quite a bit about our school. It also should help us as we embark on a very intentional marketing campaign. But the real power lay in the conversations. People looked both at our core and at our direction and the relationship between the two. I heard a great deal of important talk about personal and institutional behaviors in light of the why. People had to articulate ideals that they have but seldom express. Yesterday we followed this up with people pairing and sharing on what success looks like when guided by the why.
       The experience has prompted some reflection on leadership. In what I hope is some logical order, here are some of the insights and or confirmations:

• A leader does not determine the why, at least not when it's truly inspiring. Otherwise, any success can become based on a cult of personality. Think about those institutions driven by a strong personality, which collapsed when that person was no longer there.
• Instead, I think the leader discovers and believes passionately in the why and articulates it in many ways. The leader embodies it. The buy-in happens not because the leader convinces people, but because the leader has tapped into the why they already embrace.
• Even when you have people who know the why on some level, they can lose sight of it in daily life. Thus, one of--maybe the--key role(s) of a leader is to keep the why in front of people, as part of both celebrating and correcting.
• For that reason, leadership does not depend on position, on hierarchy. Anyone who plays the role of trumpeting the why can provide leadership from wherever, whenever, however. Therein lies the power of more distributed leadership.
• That points to another key role of the leader, one tied to her or his articulating and embodying the way. It's hiring the right people. The people who hear/see/feel the why and clamor to join you.

     Finally, during our board retreat I noticed something which affirmed both Sinek's point and these last few thoughts. During other parts of the day, people often prefaced their comments with phrases such as "If we start with why..." and "When you consider why we..." It does strike something very primal. And it strengthens my belief that a major purpose of education should be to help young people find their meaning and purpose, their personal why. Then they can lead lives based on it. Think about the amazing implications of that for everyone, individually and collectively.