What's your favorite burner?

I have started this email several times. Each time, I delete it, stare off for a while, and then start again. The words change each time, but the theme stays the same: connection.

I'm reading The Giver to Mrs Bahmiller's Connection class, and a recent line struck me. "They have never known pain," it reads, and "the realization made him feel desperately lonely." I think many of us experience the same, and not because those around us have never known pain, but because we are often too afraid to share our pain. We hold it in, hide it, or try our best to mask it for all the reasons why we do. Fear, embarrassment, or whatever else.

There is also a weird realization that, at times, we can be surrounded by people and still feel alone. I see it in a somewhat comical way with our MSers. More than a few times, when investigating a situation, they will refer to their "good friend." When asked, "And what's their name?" more times than not, they will only know their first name. Sometimes, they won't know either, yet they still consider them a good friend! I shake my head in amazement, but not for too long because I am not too far off. I may know the names of the people I work with, but do I know anything more? I see them daily, but could I tell you their kids' names, what their spouse does for work, or which stovetop burner is their favorite? 

Sometimes yes. Often times no. 

This isn't bad, necessarily, but I don't love it either. Largely because of that line from The Giver and the realization that because no one could understand him, because no one could connect with or relate to him in any way, he felt "desperately lonely." 

How many of our students feel this way? Surrounded by students and seen by staff but fully disconnected?

How many of our staff might come to work, teach their butts off, and then head home feeling unknown?

How many of our friends do we connect with, send memes and GIFs to, laugh with at the bar, or greet in church yet never truly connect with? 

I know I'm guilty of all three. Which is probably fine and mostly normal. But I still don't like it. I know I can do better. That I need to do better. 

So here is my unsolicited challenge to you:) . . . Think of one person from each of the above categories (student, colleague, family or friend) and intentionally connect with them. Spend seven minutes listening to them, checking in on them, and searching for information beyond your typical conversation or banter - see if you can discover their favorite stovetop burner. 

At the very least, you will have spent 21 minutes listening to another's stories. 

At the very best, you will ensure someone does not feel "desperately lonely." And I would wager, neither will you.

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

Friday Thought : Leave it at the Door

This week, gratitude and generosity have been on my mind. Especially when times are hard or seem extremely bleak, it is hard to be grateful or full of generosity because, really, we’re just trying to survive, to put food on the table, and to not cry in front of the kids.

How do we move on from these moments of sadness? From these pits of despair?

I don’t know. But ensuring others don’t feel the same and trying to make them feel seen and heard and loved - even if just for a moment, sometimes seems to help. Not fully, not completely, but a little. It helps to know we’re helping.

This is what teachers do, almost daily. They give of themselves by leaving their shit at the door and loving the hell out of their students. They give, even when their marriages are a mess, their homes are in chaos, and their lives seems to be falling apart. Because that’s what quality teachers do. And as educational leaders, we must therefore work even harder to ensure that they are replenished, that they feel loved, appreciated, and known. We must fill them up.