Friday Thought : Look Beyond the Problem. See the People.

At times, life gifts us themes. Most often, they come at the appropriate time. Here is been my gifted theme this week. And yes, it has come at the appropriate time.

Monday:

In a conversation with a mentor from Texas (shout out to you, Mr Jeff Springer!), he referenced this scene from the movie Patch Adams:

"Look at me," the old man says. "If you focus on the problem, you can't see the solution. Never focus on the problem, look at me!" When dealing with struggling students or adults, we must choose to "see what everyone else chooses not to see." The person.

Tuesday:

This quote came across my Instagram feed: "If I wanted to ruin you, I would convince you, over a long time, through disappointment and empty promise, that something you think or something you do is more important than the people in your life" - Justin McRoberts

For whatever reason, the people in our lives are the people in our lives. And they are more important than any thing or opinion we might have. For as Justin McRoberts also says, "The person you are talking to is more important than the thing you are talking about. Every time.”

Wednesday:

In a Zoom conversation with an old teacher buddy of mine (lookin at you, Mr Kasey Schurtz!), he said, "Love should look like discipline. And discipline should look like love."

Holding ourselves and others accountable is often uncomfortable, but if done in love (holding their interest above our own), it is necessary, good, and true. For as my mother made me memorize as a child, "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails ."

And the same should be said about discipline.

As educators and parents, we are entering the thick and heavy season of academic and change. Our students and children will be growing and learning a TON these next few weeks and months. Which is GREAT! Amidst it all, however, may we never forget the PEOPLE who are around us - staff, students, family members - for they are the reason WHY we are here.

And I have needed that reminder.

This past week, when my schedule has been more full than the minutes allow, when I run from one dumpster fire to the next, from meeting to meeting with side conversations along the way, and as I try and keep a building full of hearts and minds safe and headed in the right direction - all while the needs of family and home are pulling and calling - it is so unbelievably embarrassing how quickly I fall into the trap of Get. Stuff. Done!

And in doing so, I can often forget the people around me.

The one struggling with the weight of a sick parent and hard decisions ahead.
The one wrestling with mountains upon mountains of change, and the struggles it creates.
The one who needs a quick check in and “how you doing? You okay?” but also the brief moment of sitting and actually listening and not anxiously checking the time or text messages.
The one who needs me to sit on the couch and hear her woes and fears of a new season because really, more than anything, she is scared and insecure and doesn’t know or understand her true strength.
And the list goes on and on.

This week, the theme of people has been strong and a bit heavy handed. Which probably means I need the reminder. And more importantly, that I should listen.

Choose to see what others choose not to: the people behind the problem.
Place people above what I think and what I do.
In all things - especially in discipline - choose to love the people who have been placed in my life.

Every time.

That’s what I’ve been thinking about this week.

#doGREATthings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

Friday Thoughts : Blog

Friday Thought : When Tired or Frustrated, Remember to Play.

When Keith Jarrett sat down to play the piano in front of 1,400 people, he expected disaster. The piano was not what he ordered for such a grand concert. Nor was it in tune or in good shape: some of the keys didn’t work and the foot pedals stuck. Which is why, initially, he refused to play.

But then, he did. Because 17-year-old Vera Brandes asked him to.

At the time, Brandes was Germany’s youngest concert promoter and she had done all that she could do to get everything right. And now, with eager spectators starting to line up at the door, she needed him to play.

So he did.

“I will do this for you,” he said. Then, turning to his producer, he requested that they record the session for an example to others of what they would get if his demands were not met. He knew it was going to be a disaster, and he wanted it recorded. As an example.

Instead, by the end of the night, what they had was Keith Jarrett’s best ever selling album, the best selling solo jazz album, and the best selling solo piano album of all time!

Instead of a disaster, he produced a masterpiece. All because he was willing to look like a fool.

I first heard this album a little over six years ago during a city walk through a Chinese city. Years later, after listening, analyzing, and drawing inspiration from this album, this story, three takeaways continue to rise to the surface.

1. No matter what, Try.
   Although simple and perhaps more than a bit cliché, one of the most important decisions we can continually make is to try. This isn’t new for anyone to hear, especially in the world of education. But another more profound and less commonly understood consequence of trying is this: When we try and when we fail, we allow others to grow.

   This week, I tried running a two-day event of PLAY for our students and staff, and although many things went well, there was also more than a few blunders - all of which were my fault. In the midst of it all, however, people rose to the occasion, displaying their gifts and talents in ways previously unknown, and earning the respect of their peers. My failures allowed others to rise.

   If we don’t try we don’t fail.
   And when we don’t fail, we steal opportunities for others to shine.

   When we embrace our limitations - out loud and in the open - we allow others to exercise their strengths and abilities, we provide the opportunity for the right people in the right place, and we create a stronger, better product. We develop a better team.

   And often times, these discoveries only come when we try new things, when we allow ourselves opportunities to fail, and when we provide space for others to rise.
   

2. “I will do it for you.”
   Some of the most destructive events of our world have come at the hands of those considering only themselves. The most beautiful and influential, people and moments however, have come from those who have considered others before themselves. They look at life, at difficulties and struggles as opportunities to love on and help others, rather than defending what is theirs and looking out for number one (think Nelson Mandela, Sojourner Truth, and on especially on Easter weekend, Jesus Christ). These men and women did not slink into the shadows when trials and tribulations came, they leaned into them, embraced them, endured them. All for the benefit of others.

   So too did Keith Jarrett.

   When Keith Jarrett stepped onto the stage, when he sat before the less-then-sufficient piano and slammed his fingers into the keys so that all could hear, he wasn’t considering himself. He was thinking of a 17-year old girl who needed his help. And created a masterpiece.

   As an educator, when times are difficult, when the season of winter seems to drag on forever, when administrators forget what it’s like to be a teacher, when parents complain, students slouch, and deadlines approach - when we just cant seem to muster up the energy to try any harder - it is then that we must look into the eyes of those we are responsible for, those whom we have influence over, and think to ourselves or say out loud, “I will do this for you.”

   Then, we must get to work.
   

3. Break Routine.
   If Keith Jarrett had received the piano he wanted I’m sure the evening still would have been a success. It was the break in routine, however, that allowed him to create something truly special.

   Routines are important. They allow us to create habits that, overtime, can produce purposeful and quality results (think practicing a musical instrument, working out, or working diligently on writing a book). They provide safety and develop consistency.

   They can also make us blind. Blind to new ways of thinking, better ways of living, and the beauties of life. Routines hold tight to “the way we’ve always done it” and are fearful of change. They lull us into desiring comfort rather than growth.

   A break in routine, however, forces change. And change, although difficult and often uncomfortable, produces growth. But only if we embrace it.

As an educator, father, and husband, there are times and seasons of times where it feels like I am just going through the motions. That what I am doing seems dull, that my passion and excitement for the beautiful gift of educating students, raising children, or loving my wife seems exhausting, not exciting, and that all the time and effort put in day in and day out, seems to amount to nothing.

I know we’re not supposed to say that, but it’s true. For me at least.

Which is why I listen to Keith Jarrett’s Koln concert, because when it comes on in the morning or randomly throughout the day (classical music and soundtracks play in my office all day, every day), I am reminded to keep trying, to do it for others, and to - when needed - find ways to break my routine and fight the temptation to remain in comfort.

Our attempts may not always produce a masterpiece, and in truth, it is more likely that it won’t. But refusing to play the broken piano will produce nothing.

This week, amidst frustrations, fears of failure, and exhaustion, I have been encouraged to play the piano.

Happy Good Friday!!!

#DOGREATTHINGS!!!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

Friday Thoughts : Blog

Friday Thought : Love. That's it.

@justinmcroberts

This might be one of the most encouraging posts I’ve written in a long time. For me at least. I hope it is for you, too.

The following passage has been increasingly on my mind and heart lately. And the more I read it, dwell on it, and try to live, the more encouraged - and convicted - I become.

Love is . . .

A modified version of 1 Corinthians 13:

If I am elegant in speech, sharing words as sweet as honey, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 

If I have the gift of foresight and can acutely analyze all things, if I have a belief and conviction that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 

If I give all I possess to the poor and endure immeasurable hardships so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in destruction but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. 

Convicting in that no program, gift, slogan, or initiative means anything if not driven by love.

Encouraging in that, no matter how many times an idea or an attempt to help others fails or is ill-received, if done in love, it is not wasted.

Lean on Me:

Then, this morning while greeting kiddos and jamming to The Rubberband Man Radio on Spotify (a GREAT playlist!), an old yet beautiful song played. Lean on Me, by Bill WIthers

Most Generous Thing:

About an hour later, a principal friend of mine shared this with me. It is no my new favorite question:

What’s the most generous thing you can do today?

Happy Friday!

Keep striving to do Great things and change the world! No matter what we do, if done with love and sincere compassion for others, it is never wrong. For as Allister Begg - an old favorite preacher - used to say, “It’s always right to do right, because it’s right.”

Do right. Do love.

Friday Thought : The Strength of Transparency: What Clydesdales can teach us about fear and support

Yesterday, my oldest daughter Eden (she's eleven) was fortunate enough to help a friend of ours with his Clydesdales. Not only was she thrilled because she LOVES horses, but she was also shocked to learn how delicate these monsters are. "They're so scared," she said.

After prepping the giants for the coming carriage ride, the owner of the horses offered her the opportunity to drive them. Shortly into their journey he handed her the reigns, and a bit of advice. "Whenever you come across a bridge or approach a tractor, the horses get scared,” he said, “They need you to talk to them, to let them know you are here and that they are not alone." My little girl was dumbfounded. "Like this," he said. They were approaching a large fence and the horses were beginning to slow their walk. "I see that fence," he said in a soothing voice, "I know it's scary, I'm scared too, but well do this together, okay?" To Eden's amazement, the horses picked up their pace and continued on their way.

As she shared this story with me, I couldn't help but think of how often we are terrified to express our fears. We want to be perceived like a Clydesdales: strong, confident, and extremely competent. The vision of those old Budweiser commercials, of Clydesdales running through snow or pulling giant loads is awe inspiring and we want to be more like that. Not scared. Being frightened or needing the coaxing from a petite little eleven year-old doesn't quite fit our ideas of what it means to Do Great Things!

But maybe it should.

There is something encouraging - convicting even - about how a Clydesdale lives its life. It knows what it can do and has all the confidence in the world that it can accomplish whatever task is set before it. At some point, however, it also needs to know its fears, warranted or not, are acknowledged as real. Most importantly though, they need to know they are not alone.

Humans are much the same.

Not only do we need to be strong enough to admit we need help, that we're afraid, and that we can't do it alone, we need to be strong enough to know that admitting so isn't weak! It's brave. And it is completely okay.

We also need to be the kind of people that allow others to admit they need help or are afraid. And we do so by being strong enough to not fix their fears or concerns for them. When the moment of fear approached for the horses, their owner didn't hop off and take control of the cart and do their job for them. Nor did he show them that their fears we're unfounded, making them feel weak or foolish. He simply acknowledged their fears and reminded them that he was there. Then, they continued on. Together.

Take a lesson from the Clydesdales and share your concerns, your fears - invite them into your world - so you can continue carrying your heavy load and doing Great things, fully confident that you are not alone.

And neither are they.