Friday Thought : Right the Universe

My wife and I just finished watching the new Netflix series, Modern Love. It’s eight episodes long with each episode being based off an various essays that was published in the New York Times. Each episode portrays a different element or a unique experience, but all focus on the universality of Love. Outside of one, maybe two episodes, we truly enjoyed the series and the discussions that they encouraged.

This week’s thought is inspired by a little line that is uttered at the end of the last episode. The writers are trying to tie all the stories together (since they all happen in New York City) and there’s a brief scene where two strangers (the future couple of episode 4) are talking outside a dinner where the man has just been stood up. He’s frustrated and hurt and shows little patience for the pretty woman trying to engage in conversation. Then, in an effort to cheer him up, she shares a lesson her mother (or grandmother, I can’t remember) often shared with her. “Whenever life is hard, whenever bad things happen, Right the Universe by doing something positive in return” (a paraphrase).

Since then, this concept has been heavy on my mind, and for many reasons - most of which I will spare, for sake of time, but all of which revolve around a single topic: family.

We all have many families. Church families, work families, family families, and adopted families (both literal and metaphorical). And for me, this week, my families have struggled. Some struggles have been larger than others, some deeper and more painful than others, but all of them have been real and personal and valid. All of them, in some way or another, have been life-changing.

Maybe you can relate to these kind of days? Where your sisters and brothers are hurt and wounded by the evil of others, where your parents are battling deadly illnesses and your sons and daughters are lost and struggling to be found? Maybe you too can relate to these kind of days? Where your loved ones are simply hurting and all you want to do is fix it, to relieve their pain, and to make life great and normal and beautiful again?

I know I can.

And I know I can also relate to the feelings these types of days can stir, feelings of anger and frustration, of loss and bewilderment, of revenge even. Be it against those who have harmed me, my family, or to the world at large. Because if I’m in pain, if those around me I love are struggling and losing the battle of “fairness,” why should others - especially evil people - get to smile and enjoy life?

But then it hits me. If I chose to live that way, if I choose to treat others with impatience and rudeness when I’m having a bad day, if I choose to be snippy and irritated when a coworker or random stranger is unkind or rude, if I choose to say mean and unkind things towards people whom I think are mean and unkind, I only exacerbate (my least favorite word, by the way) the cruelty and destruction that so easily frustrated or hurt me; I entangle myself in the mess, rather than escape it.

Instead, I should Right the Universe. When someone is cruel or rude, I should find someone else and show an extra bit of kindness. When someone says a cruel or divisive thing about me, instead of festering on the person or words, I should spend some time writing thank you cards to those who have encouraged me. And when life is hard, when things just don’t seem to be going my way, I should make an effort to make sure someone else’s day is killer.

I’ve been practicing this advice throughout the week, and it has led to a couple pretty fun and memorable experiences. Like the day one of my students tested out of his support math class (which he didn’t want to be in). Instead of simply telling him he passed, I had the counselor bring him down to my office. He thought he was in trouble and walked in a bit tentatively. But then the music started and the Athletic’s Director and myself started dancing. We had a 5 second dance party, gave him a few high-fives, then sent him back to class.

Afterward, I felt a lot better, and not because I focused on myself. I felt a lot better because he felt better, because he was smiling and laughing and having a good time, and because it felt as though the Universe was made Right.

Friday Thought : Leave it at the door. be Awesome.

My friend, Ron Hardy

I was in my third year of teaching, I think (maybe fourth) when much of my life was far from where I'd hoped it would be and I was beginning to struggle with confidence, joy, and purpose. Unsurprisingly, it began to impact my teaching, my classroom, and my students. Only, I didn’t notice.

Then, I somewhere around Christmas, I received an anonymous email from a student that was written from an anonymous email account informing me that I was not doing a great job, that my teaching was sub-par, and that he (I think it was a he, at least) and his classmates deserved better. Luckily, I received that email on a Friday so I could spend the weekend sulking, arguing, excusing, then finally accepting that he was right. I needed to do better. Because he and they and my colleagues and my family deserved better. And because I was better.

The following week I started writing, "Leave it at the door. be Awesome." on the bottom of every lesson plan. A few weeks in, I made it the footer to my lesson plan template which I have used ever since, reminding me each and every day I sat down to create a lesson to leave whatever struggles, issues, and frustrations I might have at the door and be Awesome.

I wasn't perfect after that, nor did I always leave everything at the door. In fact, every now and then I would gather it all in my arms, squeeze it through the door, then drop it right in the middle of the floor for all my students to see. Like the day I spent sharing memories of my childhood best friend because the night before I had discovered it was the anniversary of passing. He had been gone for almost six years, and I never even knew. We had lost touch over the years, and when I discovered he had passed away six years prior, I felt terrible, guilty, and at a loss.

I didn’t sleep much that night.

So I wrestled through it with my students, I shared some of my favorite memories, talked about how the night before I could only see so much of Ronnie in my son that I ended up holding him for almost an hour while I talked about my childhood friend, and I talked with them about loss and life and the struggle in between. Then I had them share memories of their friends and families and write brief notes to those they mentioned. It wasn't all that academic of a class, but kids referenced it for years as one of their favorite classes and, ever since, I have committed to sharing his story with whomever I can during the month of October, the month he so abruptly left this world.

Sometimes life and circumstances seem more than we can bare. Or, as Bilbo Baggins said, it can make us feeling exhausted and "thin . . . stretched, like butter, spread over too much bread."

In those moments, for me at least, it is healthy to remind myself that I am needed - by my students, my colleagues, my family, and my community. That I am bigger than my circumstances, better than what some might think or say about me, and that I am able to help and serve and do great things, even when I don't feel like it.

People need us. They need us to be great, to be better than we often feel and sometimes think. They need us to be their mothers, fathers, friends, counselors, encouragers, planners, champions, and safe places. They a need us to be Awesome. Which means, sometimes, that they need us to be vulnerable and open and raw. They need us to be human. Which is great! Because that is exactly what humans are. Awesome.

And because we are, we can also be.

Leave it at the door. be Awesome.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Open Thoughts  :  Friday Thoughts

Friday Thought : A Boy and His Dog

I listened to a great podcast recently, about a Boy and His Dog.

The boy, who had fallen on hard times, was selling his dog - his best friend - for a hundred dollars simply because he needed to eat. Being a writer wasn't paying any bills. Little Jimmy didn't really care, though. He wanted the nice dog, but for a better bargain. So Little Jimmy took advantage of the man and his plight and instead offered $25. The skinny kid sighed, knowing he needed to feed his wife and couldn't afford to feed his dog, and finally accepting $40.

Two weeks later, when a screen writer offered to buy that same dog for $200, Little Jimmy once again took advantage of the situation and refused to sell the dog for anything less than $15,000 AND a speaking role in the man's new and upcoming movie! The man had written the screenplay in four days and sold it for $35,000 dollars, only a few days prior.

The dog was Butkus. The skinny kid, Sylvester Stallone (pictured above). And the movie was Rocky.

Whenever I come to work, I am constantly encouraged and inspired by those of you who have chosen to live a Sylvester Stallone sort of life. You work hard, endure hardships, then rather than sitting in the mess of life, you find solutions. Thank you for being that for me, for your fellow colleagues, and most importantly, for the students who have the privilege of being in your presence.

I promise you, they notice.