If you give a girl some confidence : A reflection on those who have influence over my daughters.

My daughters have had several coaches, aunts and uncles, grandparents, and other adult figures influence their hearts and minds.

And after years of dining room table, early morning drives, and campfire conversations, a few threads have emerged.

Below is my attempt to stitch them together.

If you give a girl some confidence,

She’s going to try hard things.

And when she tries hard things, she will

fail,

struggle,

and get discouraged.

But because you gave her confidence, she doesn’t lose hope.

If you give a girl some confidence,

She puts in extra hours

after homework,

enduring the cold,

ignoring the moon.

Because you gave her some confidence, she grows a little more.

If you give a girl some confidence,

She is safe.

And because she is safe, she

shares her tears,

shouts her joys,

and believes your words.

Because you gave her confidence, she listens for your voice.

If you give a girl some confidence,

She has options and she

dreams,

thinks,

tries,

and works for her coming world.

Because you gave her confidence, she finds her voice.

All because you gave that girl some confidence.

Nail your next interview! Here's how.

Interview season is here!

And we’d love to help.

Mr Darrin Peppard has been a teacher, principal, and superintendent. He has interviewed many potential candidates and has successfully navigated through his own.

As a principal, I too have interviewed many soon-to-be educators and have been fortunate enough to earn a spot in a variety of educational roles.

Below are a few lessons and tricks we have picked up along the way.

You can listen to our full conversation here, on the Schurtz and Ties podcast, or the Leaning into Leadership podcast.

Come, as you are. But also, come prepared.

Tell Your Story:

• What word or idea do you want your audience to know/think about you and what stories can you share that embody them? Write them down, rehearse them to the windshield, then confidently share them in the interview. Be intentional. It is what your audience will remember most.

Be more than the position:

• No matter the position you are applying for, show yourself as a leader willing to do and be more than that position. Sure, they need you as an English teacher, but how else might you impact or help the building, the district, or the community? Be the go-to person on something other than the position you are applying for.

Be full-throttle you:

• There are things worse than not getting the job . . . getting a job under pretense. Be who you are, fully and confidently. If they love you they’ll hire YOU! Showing up to work and trying to be someone you’re not sounds miserable. Quality educators are not looking for someone to fit in the box. So be confident. Be you.

Remember, it’s a two-way street:

• Sure, you’re the one sitting in the hot seat, but they also need the position filled. Take the opportunity to learn about the district, the school, and the leaders. Ask some questions, take notes, and ask yourself if YOU want to hire THEM! Not only does this relieve some pressure, but it can also put a little confidence in your spine. And confidence is always attractive.

Be a Llama:

• Nobody has the perfect resume. And although we don’t want to spend too much time speaking to our weaknesses, it is okay to acknowledge them. But also, and more importantly, it is imperative that we highlight our strengths, talents, and abilities. Again, BE CONFIDENT! Just don’t brag. Instead, share how your badassness will help students, staff, and the community. Use who you are to protect and support others.

Ask about the kids:

• Don’t forget that at the root of all of this are students. They are impacted MOST by your interview for they either get to have you in their building or miss out. So ask about them. Make them the focus. For you, as well as those who are sitting around the table.

A Few Pitfalls to Avoid:

• Don’t talk too long. Remember, those sitting at the table will be there all. day. long. Give them little hooks they can hang your answers on, and maybe select one or two questions where you dive a bit deeper. Otherwise, be prepared, and be concise.

• Don’t continually bring us back to your weaknesses. You can and should address them, but don’t reference them over and over.

• Don’t speak negatively of previous experiences. Even if they were awful or taught you valuable lessons, you can address them honestly without being destructive. Negative talk about other schools or personnel comes across poorly. Always. Avoid at all costs.

• Don’t ask about $$$. At least not from the gate. We all need to make money and pay bills, so the question isn’t bad, but it shouldn’t be the first. And, probably, HR or a website will answer this question for you.

If you have any questions or would like to chat more, please reach out to Darrin Peppard or Brian T. Miller. We’d love to hear from you and offer whatever guidance we can.

#doGREATthings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Education

Tweak the relationship between strengths and weaknesses. Be the 16%.

Image from The Gaping Void.

“Only 16% of people manage to keep their New Year’s Resolutions,” The Gaping Void blog recently published. That means 86% of us will fail. Especially if our resolutions “are trying to fix a long-term fault” like losing weight, going to the gym daily, or changing an undesirable habit.

Why do we fail so often? Because “It’s difficult to change an aspect of your personality by sheer force of will,” the post continues, “And if it is a weakness you choose to work on, you probably won’t enjoy the process. If you don’t find pleasure or reinforcement along the way . . . you’ll soon give up.”

The solution, provided through the wisdom of Jonathan Haidt, is, “Work on your strengths, not your weaknesses.”

“Instead of saying, ‘I’m going to lose weight,’” The Gaping Void explains, “say, ‘I really love salad. Next year, I plan to eat more of it.’ Or, ‘I really loved tennis when I was a kid. I think I might take it up again.’”

Instead of focusing on where you need to improve, embrace what you love. And I love that.

Instead of trying to “fix what’s ‘wrong’ with us {which} is never fun and rarely works,” simply “tweak the relationship between our strengths and our weaknesses and choose to look at it from a different perspective.” Again, I just love that.

It is easy to fixate on what is “wrong” with us when reflecting. The way we behave in stressful situations, our innate ability to say the wrong thing when we desperately mean not to, or the extra pounds we carry. Whatever it is, when we look in the mirror, that fault is the only thing we see.

Believing we can suddenly fix them, simply because the calendar changed a day, does little more than add to the weight of guilt, frustration, and defeat. And when we fail it only encourages what we already believe, that we cannot change. “I simply cannot do this anymore,” we whisper to ourselves or cry into the abyss.

Because it’s true. We can’t. The majority of us can’t, anyway. I know I can’t. And I have a 20-ish years-long list of unfulfilled resolutions to prove it.

Especially recently.

This past year I have been crippled by the harsh realities of my insufficiency. In all walks of life, when I evaluate and consider who I am and what I’ve done, I am disappointed, embarrassed, and ashamed. Which is why, for the first time in 20-ish years, I have no New Year’s Resolution. There are simply too many wrongs that need fixing, and I have lost hope.

“High-functioning depression” has suddenly entered my Google results.

This reality has not only confused me, it has frightened me. I’m not supposed to be this way. I’m supposed to be strong, funny, confident, and stable.

I’m supposed to be a man. A father. A husband. A principal. I’m supposed to be better.

There simply is no room for this shit.

Yet, it is here. Unwanted and uninvited.

And I cannot fix it.

This is why I truly appreciated the above post by The Gaping Void. Largely because it doesn’t attempt to fill my mind with the typical, “This will be your year!” bullshit. Instead, it offers a simple challenge: tweak the relationship between your strengths and weaknesses and choose to look at it from a different perspective.

A different perspective can often lead to a different purpose.

When I consider my shortcomings and disappointments, they are exhausting. What plummets me, however, is when I stop there. When I fixate on lost opportunities, failed endeavors, broken relationships, and failed tries. When I fixate on myself, I get discouraged. When I focus on others, however, I have reason.

I have reason to get out of bed and head to work because my family needs me.

I have reason to head to work because my students need someone to see them.

I have reason to hear my teachers because they need someone to trust them.

When I focus on others, I have reason to keep going because maybe “My year” has nothing to do with me but everything to do with the people around me.

Maybe “my year” focuses less on where I am struggling and frustrated and a hellova lot more on why others are struggling and frustrated. And what I can do about it.

Maybe “my year” isn’t about tweaking what is wrong with me but embracing what is right with me, being comfortable and confident with that, and believing, truly believing, it is enough because it is what I have. What I’ve been given. What I’ve been gifted.

Maybe “my year” is tweaking the relationship between my strengths and my weaknesses and choosing to look at Life from a different perspective.

Maybe this is the year I am the 16%.

#doGREATthings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Education : New Years

Match Life with life.

Recently, I’ve been struggling with inspiration.

More than a few personal endeavors, goals, and hopes have either crashed and burned or failed to get off the ground, and it has discouraged me far more than I anticipated. Especially in my writing. “What’s the point,” I’ve thought more than once, staring at a blank screen, unable to discover ideas or find the words, “No one is going to read them anyway.”

And in my most self-loathing moments, “Nothing I say or do matters.”

So, in response, I wrote nothing. For days. Which soon turned into weeks. Which now knocks on the door of months.

Feeling more and more discouraged (lost even), I resorted to old-school writing - in a paper journal! - to try and conjure a spark. “I give up,” I wrote in harsh black ink, “I just don’t know how.”

Rather quickly, the words came. Nothing fancy or poetic, just thoughts. Honest thoughts. And fears. Fears of failure, of wasted time and energy, and of doing this thing - whatever it is - wrong. Fears of embarrassment, rejection, and of regret. “I give up,” I wrote again, “I just don’t know how.”

I closed my journal, poured another cup of coffee, and headed to work. No solution. No resolution. No nothing. Just the weight of the task ahead, that students and staff will soon be in my school and my wife and children will be home when I get there.

And that brought a clarity, an understanding, to the reality that no matter how I feel about life, life doesn’t care much how I feel about it. No matter what, It still shows up. And it expects me too as well. Which is often why Life wins. Because it is relentless, consistent, and unapologetic in its one and only task: show up.

Should I not be expected to do the same?

There are so many friggin things I cannot control - how I am perceived, received, or embraced among the top. What I can control is whether or not I’m willing to try again. Whether or not I’m willing to show up, like Life, again and again.

It doesn’t have to always be pretty, but it does have to be always. For as Churchill (should have) shouted, “Do your worst, and we’ll do our best!” What matters is not that our best is enough, but that what’s best is enough.

And what’s best is that, even when we are at our worst, we show up.

- - - -

I don’t love that conclusion. Largely because it feels shallow. Insufficient. Uninspiring.

But really, I just don’t know what else to do. And sometimes, truthfully, it is all that I have - not giving up. Or at least, just showing up.

If I keep engaging with Life, maybe I can steal some from it.

Maybe.

Principal Evaluations : How to Use Them and Why They Matter.

Principal evaluations are tricky and can easily be ugly, but they can also be deeply rewarding. For yourself and your staff. After years of having my students evaluate me as a teacher and my staff evaluate me as a principal, I’ve definitely learned what not to do. But also, and more importantly, I’ve learned a few things about what to do.

Being evaluated is never easy largely because no one ever wants to be told they’re imperfect. Even though, deep down, we know more than anyone the flaws we carry. But that doesn’t dull the sting of someone pointing it out.

And that is precisely why principal evaluations are so tricky.

When we are asking those we serve to evaluate us, no matter our intentions, proven kindness, or deepest sincerity to grow and learn, there is still a power dynamic at play. And if our staff sense, even slightly, the possibility of retaliation, the survey will quickly be seen as a trap, a gimmick, and could quite easily become a wedge rather than a bridge.

For these evaluations to be honest, purposeful, and beneficial to our personal growth and the well-being of our school and staff, we need to understand, acknowledge, and protect this unique and fragile dynamic and ensure we do not accidentally (or intentionally) abuse or misuse this imbalance of power. 

Speaking from experience, if our principal evaluations are fumbled, it can cause destruction and discord within a school. 

If done appropriately, however, a principal evaluation will not only build trust and community within your school, it will also grow you into a more purposeful and intentional leader.

#1: Understanding the Power Dynamic. Two Ways to Ensure Your Survey Builds Trust

In a perfect world, our principal evaluations would be done in person. But we don’t live in a perfect world. We live in a world where power is abused, where honesty is often rewarded with judgment, and where trust between those with power and those without is at an all-time low. Therefore, asking your staff to openly evaluate you is extremely damaging as it puts them in an awkward position of either telling you what you want to hear or holding back what they truly feel. And once this happens, once your staff feels manipulated or taken advantage of, trust is broken.

Even though these surveys can be seen as ugly and scary and full of “hurtful feedback,” if we’re asking for feedback and truly wanting to know how our staff feels about our leadership, we must let them say what they feel. Without fear of retribution.

An anonymous survey provides you an opportunity to receive true and honest feedback, it protects your staff from feeling manipulated or bullied - a term I use purposefully because there is an imbalance of power. And although you may not intend to misuse your power, the fear that you can or could is always there.

To ensure your staff feel and are protected from potential retribution, when giving your evaluation, consider the following:

Don’t Read the Surveys: In the past, I had teachers hand in their surveys or submit them online. Then I would read through them one by one, gather data, and share what I had found with my staff. Every so often, however, I would be accused of analyzing the surveys to discover who wrote what. And although this wasn’t true, the perception of it was, leading to a mistrust of me and the system. To combat this, instead of reading through the surveys myself, I provide yet another layer of anonymity by having my Leadership Team read through the surveys and provide me with an overarching narrative. “What themes do you see?” I ask them, “What common thread can you pull out from their responses?”

If you don’t have a team you can trust on your staff, consider an outsider, someone who can provide you honest feedback and tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear. Your mom is probably not a great resource on this one.

Having someone else read the surveys does two things:

1. It protects against the accusation or even temptation to analyze the responses and attach marks and comments to individual teachers. It allows you to see you to continually see your staff with a caring heart, rather than a cautious one.

2. It protects you from fixating on the negative. As a fellow administrator recently stated, “I hold my breath when I read them . . . and even if there’s just ONE critical response, that’s the one my brain obsesses over.” Having a small group of trusted teachers read through the comments saves us from overanalyzing and obsessing over the negative comments, allowing us to see the bigger picture.

When we fixate on specific comments or criticisms we can quickly become defensive rather than reflective. We focus more on the words rather than the story. Having a trusted team read through our evaluations allows them to take a distant, larger perspective of what is being said rather than taking every comment personally.

Once your team has helped you discover the larger narrative it's time to present your findings to your staff.

#2: Be an Example. Bring it Back to the Staff.

This is perhaps the most awkward part of the evaluation, but it is also the most important. Standing in front of your staff, vulnerable and honest, allows your staff to see you model how to appropriately, professionally, and purposefully receive feedback. It shows them that you are listening and that you care more about them than you do yourself. 

While presenting:

1. Don’t Protect Yourself. Whatever is said about you, own it. Tell them why you agree, where you have missed the mark, and why you think this is important. Make it about them, not you. If you make it about you, how hard you’ve worked and how terrible this makes you feel, it can be seen as yet another manipulation tool and will crash and burn any progress you have made. Remember, this is a powerful opportunity to show your staff what it means to grow and learn and be better. Be an example of what that looks like.
   
   

2. Provide Solutions. This moment will probably be awkward for everyone involved. Letting the evaluation hang in the air without a plan for how you are going to consider their evaluation will make it even more so. Again, this is a modeling opportunity and a concrete example to them of how YOU want THEM to respond to their evaluations. Model what it should look like and how it should feel. Be hopeful, thoughtful, and excited at the opportunity of moving forward with a solution mindset!
   
   

3. Make it Count. If nothing changes, nothing will change. “What’s the point,” will begin to creep into your teachers' mindsets and conversations. If you’re going to solicit feedback you better be ready to do something about it. Failure to do so will not only destroy any trust your staff have in you as a leader, but they will once again feel affirmed that those in leadership don’t really care about them or their feedback. The responsibility to move forward is ours, not theirs. They did their part by filling out the evaluation. Now it is on us to do something about it. Make it count.

#3: When Creating Your Evaluation, Be Consistent.

Feedback isn’t all that helpful if we cannot see or measure how we’ve grown. When creating your evaluation, it will benefit you greatly to keep the following in mind:

1. Align your evaluation directly to the language and expectations of your district evaluation. Whatever your supervisor uses to evaluate you, make sure your staff does the same. You can always add in a few other things, but if your survey is not aligned with how you will be measured by the district, it will be less helpful. 

2. Keep your evaluation the same, at least from year to year. You will probably always find ways to improve your evaluation, but if you change it too much within a single year, how will you know if you’ve grown? For at least an entire year, keep the evaluation the same to have a true and cohesive evaluation of how you’re doing.

This is Great. But Why?

The last piece of advice I would give comes in the form of a question: Why are you doing this?

Are you doing it to hopefully receive a pat on the back? To message your ego? Because if so, you will be disappointed. Even if you’re great, you’re not perfect. And an anonymous evaluation will tell you so.

Are you doing it to truly grow? And I mean truly grow? Because if not, this process will not only hurt, it will destroy your staff. Instead of learning and growing and moving forward you will defend against what is being said, get angry at the numbers, and become critical and cautious of your staff. Not only will you find yourself walking the halls wondering who said what, but you’ll become increasingly self-conscious every time you walk into a room. You will find yourself searching for allies rather than building a community. And that is the last thing anyone wants.

How you respond to your survey will set the standard for what it means to learn and grow in your school. It is also a golden opportunity to build trust between you and your staff. Especially if you are open, honest, and sincere. Even if you bungle through the first few, a genuine attempt that puts the staff and their needs at the center of your focus will be seen, heard, and felt. It will mean a lot. 

In your journey and pursuit of providing and receiving feedback from your staff, I hope these considerations have helped. If you have any further insight, or if you would like a copy of my evaluations, let me know! I am happy to share. 

You can access my evaluation template here or email me at millerbrianstoriesmatter@gmail.com

Good luck to you! And thank you for walking into this vulnerable mess. Your staff is lucky to have you.

#DoGreatThings!

Monthly Favorites : July, 2023

July was a crazy month. I even wrote a Friday Thought about how quickly Moments turn to Memories. Considering my favorite podcasts, conversations, and songs of the month have a similar feel . . . how in the world has it come and gone so quickly?

Regardless, goodbye July, and welcome August! I truly am looking forward to it.

Favorite Quote:

“Relationship expectations are at an all-time high, yet the expectations are less and less clear. We are making up new norms as we go” - Esther Perel

Podcasts:

Artificial Harmony : At the Table

This inspired me so much that I ended up writing a quick Friday Thought about it.

#KeepKnocking: The Art of Never Giving Up on People : Schurtz and Ties

This is Kasey’s tagline for our show. In this episode, he explains why it is so important to him, and why it should be for all of us. So good.

What Jazz can Teach us about Innovation and Teamwork : Harvard Business Review

“To lead innovation, you have to embrace experimentation – and mistakes.”

Songs:

Ole Magnolia, by Happy Landing

Patience, by Wilder Woods

Video:

“Marriage is never 50/50.”

I LOVE this reminder. So much so, that it has inspired me to think more about how it can apply to schools and leadership teams and how we show up to work. I shared my thoughts in a blog post entitled, Giving less than 100% is 100% okay. Let me know what you think! I’d be curious for your thoughts.

Let me know of anything you’ve been reading, watching, listening to, or have been inspired by!

Happy August!

#doGREATthings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

Blog : Monthly Favorites

Giving less than 100% is 100% okay.

As educators, we are expected to “give 110% of every day to every student!” Our parents expect it, our students and colleagues expect it, and we expect it of ourselves. Recently, though, I’ve started to wonder if this expectation is unfair, unhealthy even. For our fellow staff members, our students, and for ourselves.

I think there is an appropriateness in the expectation that we come to work prepared and ready to give it our best- absolutely! I think it’s appropriate that we set the bar high, at giving 100%. I also think it’s okay that fail.

More accurately, I think we probably should.

At our core we are defined by our profession - We Are Educators! - but we are also more than that. We are the million other things that exist outside our schools, not the least of which include the roles of spouses, parents, and children to our parents. And when they call, with tears so loud we cannot hear their words, they steal away from our 100%. And that is okay.

In fact, it is more than okay. It is human. And if we are to teach our students, our staff, and our community anything, it is how to be a better one, not a perfect one.

As educators, at times, we go to work to get distracted because immersing ourselves in our classrooms and buildings is something that can bring us joy and purpose; it can remind us of the largeness and beauty of life rather than the pricks of it (overwhelming bills, rocky relationships, harsh realities).

But showing up and pushing aside the distractions, day in and day out, is also immensely lonely. And dangerous. And in a profession that advertises and celebrates “relationships, relationships, relationships,” living in such isolation seems a bit hypocritical.

If we want to build relationships with our staff and students, if we want to build strong bonds and healthy cultures, along with professionalism we need personalism (which is an actual word, I just now discovered, which means “the quality of being personal”). And the greatest contributor to pursuing the quality of being personal is being comfortable with our imperfections.

As educators, we have enough to deal with. We are underpaid, undervalued, and overwhelmed with keeping the peace between combative people groups and conflicting ideologies. Being personal, being human is not something we should have to worry about. It should be something we embrace.

We need to be okay with not being able to give 100%.

@AdamMGrant

“Marriage is never 50-50” Brene Brown states, and is “the biggest crock of bullshit” she has ever heard.

So too is believing that we, as educators in care of our students, our schools, our communities, AND our families can give 100% to everyone, all the time. Because we can’t.

What we can do, however, is try and give as much as we can sometimes, 80% other times, and on those really rough days where we didn’t get any sleep because the car broke down or the hospital called and Mom needs more testing, we give 20%. And that is okay.

What isn’t okay is feeling guilty about it, putting on a professional face, getting distracted, and demanding that we be 100% when we really only have 70. What isn’t okay is believing that professionalism doesn’t have room for personalism.

A healthy marriage, Brene Brown continues, quantifies where we are. “I’m at a 20 today.” Be it energy, investment, kindness, or patience, saying openly and honestly, “I’ve got 20 to give today” allows the other to endure what we cannot. It allows them to see where we are and say, “No worries. I can pick up the 80.” Or, as is often the case, they can also say, “I’m at a solid 45,” providing both with the understanding that tonight, we need to scale back, order a pizza, and be content with the laundry unfolded and dishes dirty in the sink.

Teacher groups and leadership teams should be no different, no less transparent.

Whether we are showing up to get distracted or showing up distracted, sharing with a few trusted colleagues and building leaders not only builds trust, it strengthens the staff and school community. It builds personalism AND professionalism. Most importantly, it models the greatest rule for a healthy life: Do your best with what you have.

We can be distracted AND STILL teach our asses off.

We can be frustrated with our spouse AND STILL be kind, personal, and available to our fellow staff and students.

We can be worried about Mom or Dad AND STILL notice that student who needs a shoulder to cry.

We can be less than 100% AND STILL be helpful, purposeful, and present. Because the reality is, we are often less than 100%. I know I am, anyway. And when I try my best to hide it, to cover up the fact that I am struggling with outside-of-school issues, I feel even worse. I feel isolated. Sharing that I am distracted allows others to understand where my head and heart are today. It also invites them into sharing about their life, their struggles, and their distractions. It allows us to understand and help each other, just as we are.

Sometimes we go to work to get distracted. Other times we go to work distracted. Neither of which steals away from our professionalism. Both of which push us towards personalism.

Which is exactly where we need to be.

#DoGreatThings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

Blog : Education : On Leadership

Parenting a "difficult child" is hard. And lonely. As a principal, I need to do better.

Being the “difficult child” is hard. Being the parent of the difficult child is even harder. Especially, I think, for moms.

Growing up, I was the difficult child. I had a temper, was rambunctious, and rough. My grandfather used to say that when I walked into a room, things would explode. My siblings simply named me “the animal.”

Yet, most of the time, I was unaware of my difficulty. I would notice that I wasn’t invited to certain events or not allowed in people’s homes or backyards, but it didn’t really bother me because, well, there were forts to build, bb-guns to shoot, and ponds to play in. I got busy. And, in the end, I turned out alright . . . I think.

My second son is much the same way. He too is rough, has “big emotions” as we say, and has difficulty filtering his thoughts and ideas. He isn’t quiet, controlled, or easy. He is all boy, all the time. And just like me, this means he isn’t invited to certain events or allowed to play with particular toys.

Most of the time he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it largely because he isn’t aware of it. Mom, however, is. And it is breaking her heart.

Not only is she the one who has to field the many-times-asked question, “Is something wrong with your son?”, she also has to endure the knowledge that he wasn’t invited to this birthday party, that swimming lesson, or that overnight party because “he’s just too hard.” She has to protect him, from the hurt that surrounds him and from the unfair - or at least incomplete - perception of those who know him, including family.

More than anyone, she is his defender.

After the most recent event, where my wife called me crying in frustration, fear, and hurt - for my son and for herself - a few things crystalized, and I thought I’d share them here, with you.

1. As an educator, whenever I call a parent into my office or classroom to discuss their “difficult child,” I must remember that whatever it is I have to say is not new information to them. They, more than anyone, understand the difficulty of their child - they live with them, after all. So although I need to talk with them about the situation at hand or the plan moving forward, spending a great deal of time talking about their child’s strengths, their gifts, and their talents is imperative! Moms of difficult children hear often why their child is difficult. Rarely do they hear why they are loved. And it is my job to not only see that, but to celebrate it, loudly and sincerely. For the child’s sake, and for mom’s
   

2. I can confidently say that by and large, difficult children have defensive mothers. At times, and perhaps more often than I would like to admit, as an educator, this has irritated me (“Can’t they see I’m here to help!"). And if I’m really honest, on more than one occasion, it has even caused me to think, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Which is terrible.
   Recently, however, I have been reminded that the parents of a “difficult child” are not difficult, they are protectors. They have seen their child picked on, overlooked, and stigmatized - even by his or her surrounding family! And they are tired of it. Exhausted from it. And at times, they are ready to fight back.

   And I need to let them.
   “If I don’t defend him,” I have heard my wife say on more than one occasion, “If I don’t protect and support him - if I don’t love the hell out of him - who will?”
   No one will. At least not like Mom can.
   So instead of getting defensive, of being in any way judgmental toward a parent who comes into my office guns blazing in defense of their “difficult child,” I want to be patient and understanding. I want to relieve them of their burden and of their need to defend and fire back, not give them another reason to reload.

   Yes, their child is causing disruption in the school and classroom, but they are still loved, safe, and wanted. That is what I want my parents of “difficult children” to hear from me. Because I can almost guarantee they won’t hear it anywhere else.

3. “There is something worse out there than being sad,” Tedd Lasso said to his team, “and that is being alone and being sad.” Parents of “difficult children” are not only sad, they are also alone. They too are no longer invited to events or welcome for quick stop-ins. They are often excluded because of their “difficult child,” leaving them to struggle, suffer, and cry alone.
   Even when they are invited to an event or playdate, instead of engaging in conversation or enjoying a few drinks on the patio, they spend their time watching their child, fearful they will say or do something embarrassing or hurtful - something that will affirm the stigma. So Mom will sit, eyes and ears half attentive to the conversation at hand, and listen, worry, and anticipate the “difficult child” that is sure to come.
   And when those moments come, moms of “difficult children” feel, very accurately, the judgment and criticism. They know their child is causing a disruption, and they know it is their job to help them grow and learn and change. Which only makes Mom feel more sad and more alone. Because they don’t know what to do, and they blame themselves.

Empathy often springs from experience. When we experience pain, sorrow, hurt, and loss, we grow in our ability to understand it in others. We build empathy.

Sadly, it took me having to become a parent of a “difficult child” to better understand those parents who have entered my classroom or cried in my office. For although I practiced the words of empathy I did not carry the heart of it. And I can only assume that they felt that void, that distance, that affirmation of aloneness.

Not anymore. And strangely, I am thankful for that.

To all those parents who have been tasked with guiding and loving the heart and mind of a “difficult child,” my heart aches for you. And it understands you, if only just a little bit more.

Which is why, in case you need it, here is your affirmation and charge to go out and defend the hell out of your child! Love them, protect them, and cry for them. Be their parent, in all the best ways that you know how, and be confident that you - YOU - were given this beautiful task of raising them. Be confident in that, and in them.

But also, give grace to those of us who don’t fully understand you, or your child. Us educators, we truly do love and want what is best for you and your child, it’s just that we can be a bit hard-headed and narrow-minded in our experiences and thus our empathy, at times. But we can learn. We can grow. And because we love you and your child, we are more than willing to do so.

I have often said that being a better educator does not make me a better father., but being a better father does make me a better educator.

I believe that now, more than ever.

#doGREATthings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

Blog : Monthly Favorites

NAESP 2023 : Lead in the Water: Five Strategies for Leading in the Midst of Crisis

1. Don’t take it personal. Make it personal.

2. See the rock, not the size.

3. “It’s going to be a good time, or a good story.”

4. Make the intangible, tangible.

5. Lead like a Llama!

Books:

Leading with a Limp

Good to Great: Why Some Companies Make the Leap...And Others Don't

The Choice: Escaping the Past and Embracing the Possible

Fans First: Change The Game, Break the Rules & Create an Unforgettable Experience

Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Journey

Humilitas: A Lost Key to Life, Love, and Leadership

Everything Sad is Untrue

Podcast:

This American Life

Ways to Stay Connected:

• Twitter

• millerbrian.com

• Linkedin

• Podcast: Schurtz and Ties: A podcast about education and culture

#doGREATthings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

Blog : Monthly Favorites

Monthly Favorites : June 2023

My Family : We cram the frame

“Do for one what you wish you could do for many.” - Andy Stanley

This past week, I was fortunate to take my family on a quick road trip to Seattle, the Haro Strait, and the Oregon coast, and it was one of our favorite family trips. From start to finish.

At one gas station, however, I was in desperate need of the restroom when, to my dismay, I realized I needed a code to open the door. Which I didn’t have. I tried both restrooms, even knocking a few times to see if they were in use (which they weren’t). A gentleman behind me watched my whole struggle, said nothing, waited till I backed off, then put in the code and closed the door.

“What?” I said aloud.

One of the workers then peaked his head around the corner, “7537” he yelled. I punched in the numbers, opened the door, and took a seat. Nature was calling. But I digress.

For a while, that guy - the one who could have helped me out but didn’t - nagged on my mind. “Why didn’t he just give me the code?” I thought. “Why didn’t he help?”

I couldn’t answer that question, but the incident did spark an idea. Or rather, a perspective . . . look for the helpers. Instead of focusing on the people/events that frustrate me, look for the people and events that bring unexpected joy.

So I did. And there many.

One was the young man in front of my six-year-old son and me. We were headed to the elevator that would take us down from atop the Space Needle and the young man was a few paces ahead of us.

“Can I push the button, Daddy?” Elias asked.

“Sure, buddy.” I said. Then, a few steps later, the young man in front of us stopped, turned, and with a slightly embarrassed smile on his face, pointed Elias towards the down button. He had overheard the small request and chose to do something about it. He chose to help, even when it wasn’t expected.

Another was the middle-aged mechanic who stopped his busy day to give our SUV a thorough lookover because I was nervous about some sounds. He even dumped a liter of oil in because we were a bit low. When asked how much it would cost, his hand batted my question away, “No problem. Just get home safe.” He provided time, oil, and a whole lotta comfort, all at no charge.

There was also the security guard at a nice high-rise building who ignored the “No public restroom sign” and heard my request to let our kiddos use the restroom. He said yes, then allowed my entire family access.

“Thank you,” I said repeatedly.

He smiled and said, “Happy to help.” He broke a rule to help a family.

These events, although small and insignificant (to the point that, if I hadn’t written them down, would have been forgotten and lost amidst the other memorable or stressful moments), reminded me of the power of perspective, and of simple moments.

We can either focus on the people and events that frustrate us and bring us down, or we can see the helpers, we can BE the helpers - “Moment Makers” - just by seeing and hearing the people around us.

How we choose to see the world makes a world a difference in how we interact with it.

Although life is hard, disappointing, and often a seemingly endless battle, it is also filled will hope, beauty, and meaningful reminders. We just need to look for them, and at times, create them.

“Do for one what you wish you could do for many.”

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

Here are a few favorites from the month of June!

Favorite Book:

Fans First: Change The Game, Break the Rules & Create an Unforgettable Experience

When adversity hits, most people dwell on the negative. It’s raining. We’ve lost power. There’s construction . . .

When things go wrong, when there’s a challenge with the experience, that is the best time to wow your fans. They’re not expecting you to make a random wrong a right, it’s a little heroic. Or, as Bananas catcher Bill LeRoy might say, a little joyful” (pg 47).

Favorite Advice:

This one was offered by a friend (Gary Phile!) who called me the other day. “I think you’ll like this,” he said. And I do. So very much.

When in the presence of others, when the conversation or action causes us even the slightest alarm, work through the following questions:

Does it need to be said?
Does it need to be said by me?
Does it need to be said right now?"

If the answer to all three is, “Yes!” Speak up. If there is even a single “No,” keep quiet and figure out who and when - and if anything! - needs to be said.

And I just love that.

Favorite Podcasts:

At the Table: Mind the Gap, with Patrick Lencioni

When it comes to organizational clarity, a tiny gap on a leadership team can become a big crack down the line.  This week, Pat and the team discuss a few reasons why these gaps appear, and how to best prevent them.

Plain English: Why So Many Young Men are Lonely, Sexless, and Extremely Lonely, with Derek Thompson

Many men - especially younger men - are socially disconnected, pessimistic about the future, and turning to online anger . . . they are facing higher rates of depression symptoms, suicidal thoughts, and a sense of isolation, as seen in the agreement of 65% that ‘no one really knows me well.’

Favorite Conundrum:

I’m taking the money. You?

Let me know of anything you’ve been reading, watching, listening to, or have been inspired by!

Happy July!

#doGREATthings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

Blog : Monthly Favorites

Monthly Favorites: May 2023

The month of May was crazy. A few things stuck out, however. Here they are!

Favorite Videos:

This one, on teacher shortage and burnout, is pretty tough. True. And more than a bit worrisome.

This one, however, of New Yorkers trying to cross the street during the Marathon is just fun.

The most beautiful of them all, though, is this one from Mike Olbinski, entitled, Niltsa: A Monsoon Film.

Favorite Podcasts:

The Wisdom of Anxiety - A Bit of Optimism, with Simon Sinek

Three Types of Courage - At the Table, with Patrick Lencioni

Why So Many Young Men Are Lonely, Sexless, and Extremely Lonely - Pain English with Derek Thompson

Favorite Reads:

The Power of Moments: Why Certain Experiences Have Extraordinary Impacts, by Chip and Dan Heath

“Our lives are measured in moments, and defining moments are the ones that endure in our memories, {they} shape our lives” And “We don’t have to wait for them to happen. We can be the authors of them”

Everything Sad is Untrue, by Daniel Nayeri

“Does writing poetry make you brave? It is a good question to ask. I think making anything is a brave thing to do. Not like fighting brave, obviously. But a kind that looks at a horrible situation and doesn’t crumble. Making anything assumes there’s a world worth making it for”

Let me know of anything you’ve been reading, watching, listening to, or have been inspired by!

Happy June!

#doGREATthings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

Blog : Monthly Favorites

Want kids to graduate? Stop talking about graduation.

When it comes to attending college or university, education has finally brought the pendulum back to a healthy center: not everyone needs to go to college.

When it comes to talking about graduation, however, we are still behind in our thinking.

Let me explain.

In my house, my wife and I rarely talk to our children about following the law. What they do hear is, “Do the right thing.” Instead of the law, we talk about what it means to be quality people of character. Why it’s important to be honest, disciplined in thought and action, to act with integrity, and why we should consider others as more important than ourselves. We encourage our kids to be quality humans, not kids who follow the law.

Why?

Because my kids can follow the law and still be bad kids who are unkind and lack integrity. Following the law is too low a standard.

So too is graduation.

When graduation becomes the goal, two things can happen.

One, we can compromise our ethics for the purpose of achieving our goal. This can look like grade manipulation, bending academic integrity, or cheating. Because if graduation is the goal, and our success and reputation are built upon it, we will do whatever it takes to achieve it.

Two, we can produce a poor product. If a student walks across the stage and receives a diploma while the entire audience sighs in relief (finally, he’s gone) or grumbles in annoyance (what a jerk she was), what was the point? If we have more kids graduating but fewer who are prepared to be kind, thoughtful, and ethical, what have we accomplished? If graduation is our goal, what - unintentionally even - will we compromise in order to achieve it?

Like children merely following the law, we can have students who have earned a degree but are jerks, dishonest, and selfish.

And if that is the case, what then is the purpose of the degree? Was graduation for them, or us?

Now, I don’t think this applies to all schools and every child who has ever or will graduate, of course not. For not only would that be unfair, but it would also be wildly untrue. But that doesn’t mean that it can’t happen, that it hasn’t happened, or that it isn’t a constant temptation for school leaders, teachers, students, and parents. (Case in point, I once had a boss who forced a math teacher to overlook blatant cheating on a final, all because he wanted the child to graduate . . . what did we just teach that child? That teacher? That school?)

And sadly this sort of compromise happens more often than I think we’d like to admit.

Graduating is too low a bar, and if we want to change the world - truly - we need to aim much higher.

Instead of focusing on graduation, let us raise the bar of expectation to growing quality men and women who strive for integrity, live in discipline, have empathy towards others, and persevere. Let us spend more time pointing our students (and ourselves) towards a sense of pride in the things we do and the people we are, not in the achievements we collect.

I don’t teach my kids to follow the law, I teach them to be humans of integrity and character. Following the law is merely a byproduct of something greater achieved.

Like crawling before we walk, eating mushed-up bananas before we can eat a steak, or practicing simple sentences before we write our senior paper, let us place graduation where it should be: a small step in the journey of life. Graduation isn’t the goal, it is a moment of celebration that propels us forward. Or at least, it should.

For many, however, graduation is a big deal. Be it because they are the first in their family to do so or because it is the culmination of years and years of hard work, for many, walking across that stage is a monumental moment in their lives. And it should be celebrated! But again, it is not the goal. It is merely a manifestation of accomplishing a much bigger, much more important task: enduring hardship with integrity and discipline.

Standing atop the mountaintop doesn’t mean much if we don’t have the scars and sweet, aches and pains that accompany the journey. Nor does it matter most if when we summit the last peak no one is there to celebrate with us. It’s the journey that brought us there, and we achieved our goal with our character unblemished.

For as John Candy’s character states, “If we’re not enough without it, we’ll never be enough with it.”

If we want kids to graduate, let’s stop talking about graduation. Instead, let’s talk about what it means to be quality people. Let graduation be the byproduct of something greater achieved.

Repeat Offender, by Catherine Dorian : A Teacher's Story

A month or so ago, my good friend and one of my forever favorite English teachers sent me this write-up, and I loved it.

Miss Dorian was one of my teachers when I was the principal of a small-town high school. She has since moved on to the east coast where she is continually challenging herself, improving her profession, and making an impact on the world of education and in the lives of young adults.

What I love most about this piece is the raw honesty with which she writes. Every teacher can relate to this story as every teacher has lived it. What makes Miss Dorian exceptional, though, is her ability to internalize these moments. Instead of pointing fingers or consuming herself with bitterness, she strives to be better. A better teacher for sure, but also a better person.

Instead of taking it personally, she makes it personal. And in doing so, she gains compassion for the other side. She builds a bridge of understanding, of empathy, rather than discord.

And I just love that.

Repeat Offender, by Catherine Dorian

The other week, I spoke to the mother of a student who plagiarized a portion of an assignment. The mother was really not happy with me and “really not happy about this.” Clearly, her daughter hadn’t plagiarized. Clearly, I was making an unprecedented accusation.  

I gave her some context for the assignment. Her daughter had earned an 80% on a two-paragraph rhetorical analysis of one of the most important speeches on the abolition of slavery in the United States. I have a policy that any student can revise or rewrite any writing assignment before the end of the quarter, a policy designed to teach students to make use of feedback, to experience how time away from writing brings perspective and clarity, and to reflect on their revision process: a policy intended to offset a grading system that fails to teach mastery. Her daughter wants an A in the class, so, in the last week of the quarter, I encouraged her to revise the assignment. If she did, she may be able to improve her cumulative grade; moreover, she would be able to apply the significant strides in her analytical thinking that she has made since writing the original assignment.

“Yeah, I’m aware of your policy,” the mother said. “My daughter has had to rewrite assignments for you on several occasions.”

On the final day of the quarter, her daughter turned in a revision. When any student submits any assignment online, the Google Classroom algorithm does a full sweep of the assignment, checking for areas where the students’ writing is a word-for-word match with an online source.

“Yes, I’m aware of Google Classroom’s plagiarism checks. I’m an educator,” the mother reminded me.

I outlined my evidence: when her daughter turned in her rewrite, Google Classroom flagged it for plagiarism. According to the Google Classroom algorithm, her daughter pulled portions of the assignment from an online source without properly quoting or citing them, five days after I’d taught a detailed lesson on plagiarism and MLA citation with her class.

“Well, she swears up and down that she didn’t do it. I just can’t believe that you won’t believe her.”

I reiterated what I had already explained in my email to her earlier that day. When I spoke to her daughter about the assignment, she admitted to plagiarizing, apologized, said she understood that there were consequences for doing so, and assured me that she wouldn’t do it again. In tears, she explained that she was stressed and just wanted to do well.   

“Well of course, my daughter was stressed.”

Luckily, her daughter plagiarized on an assignment that was already a rewrite of an old assignment. Instead of earning zero points on the assignment, she could keep her original grade of 80%, which would not drastically bring down her cumulative grade, which was an 85% for the quarter.

But my attempt at reassurance only made this mother more indignant.  

We’ve had “countless conversations” about her daughter wanting an A, and yet again, she’d be getting a B on her report card.

That’s true.
And we’ve been talking “for a year” about what her daughter could do to improve.

That’s also true.

Her daughter’s done “everything” to get an A in my class, and I've never once given her the grade that she deserves.

That’s not quite true. I've given her child several sample assignments that have earned high marks, and I've compared/contrasted these assignments with her work, pointing to where she needs to go further in her analysis, add evidence to support her claims, elaborate on her analysis. I have modeled what A-level work looks like (I have a personal policy that I would never ask my students to do an assignment that I wouldn’t do myself, and more often than not, I write the assignment along with my students or show them a comparable essay that I wrote in college), along with several strategies to achieve A-level work. I spend anywhere from 15 - 45 minutes writing her daughter feedback on her assignments, explaining everything that she did well and explaining where she could improve. I've offered her weekly meetings, where I would give her personalized help on all of my assignments; she’s come for extra help only a handful of times in the last ten weeks.  

But my class is the “one class” that is bringing down her daughter's GPA.

My class is the “one class” that's preventing her daughter from getting a scholarship to college.

Ever since her old teacher left, she’s been struggling with English.

“It’s been an entire year with you—” the mother said, “and still, you’re not giving her an A. Good God, give the kid a break.” 

            At this point, I was getting tired. It was past three o’clock, her daughter is one student, and my other fifty-nine students still needed me to prepare their lesson for tomorrow, answer their emails, and give them feedback on their assignments. After that, I had to go home and complete a task for my second job, which provides enough supplemental income so that I can afford to keep my teaching job.

So, I did the only thing that I could think to do.

I apologized for my shortcomings and thanked her for her feedback. I promised to do more to help her child, and I promised that from now on, I would schedule 45 minutes of weekly extra help time with her daughter, where we would do her assignments together and I would ensure that she was doing everything that she could to get an A. I would follow-up with her on every writing assignment and walk her through how she could revise it. I would learn more about her learning style. I would acknowledge how hard she’s working, and make sure that I give her the recognition that she so greatly deserves.

She thanked me. “I’m sorry if I seemed aggressive at first,” she said.

No, no, she wasn’t aggressive.

“I’m just very defensive of my daughter, especially when I know how hard she’s working.”

That’s understandable.

She had to run and get her youngest to a dentist appointment. She thanked me for my time and consideration, said she was “really glad we had this talk,” and hung up. 

Downstairs in the guidance office, I updated the school counselor and the Dean of Students. A few colleagues swapped stories and strategies:

“Once, I complimented her daughter’s dress and asked her to wear a cardigan so that she’s adhering to the dress code. Not ten minutes later, I open an email, and her mom’s written a 1,200-word essay about how I was ‘too obsessed’ with policing what the girls wear.”

“The other week, she emailed me at 1 PM: ‘Call me now.’ Yeah, ‘cause I sit I around all day and wait until she needs me.”

“Oh, her? I’ve discovered that you just have to smile and take it. Don’t interrupt, don’t tell her the facts. Don’t defend yourself. Just let her rip.”

The plagiarism debacle wasn’t unique. I’ve been apologizing for things that weren’t my responsibility since I started teaching. Once, a mother berated me for assigning her daughter—an AP student—“over sixty pages of reading in two nights.” I pulled up the assignment, counted the pages three times, and, in a phone call that would take thirty minutes out of my day, confirmed with her that the assignment was, indeed, thirty pages, but that I would be more cognizant of the workload that I assign next time. Another time, I apologized to a mother for assuming that it was reasonable to ask a seventeen-year-old to check his email and ensure that he’s completed all of his assignments so that he could be eligible to play in what was supposedly the most important basketball game of his high school career. I also apologized to her for my failure to remind her to check his grades in the online gradebook—the gradebook that I updated three times a week, and the gradebook that she’d had access to all year.

I love teaching English because you get to teach about logic and rhetoric. You get to evaluate the strategies of some of the most celebrated speakers and writers of the past and the present. You get to empower students with the skill of supporting their ideas with evidence, with reasoning, with proof that prevails against the tyranny of delusion. You get to refine your own skills as you model the art of rational argument and civilized discussion with students, colleagues, parents, administrators, and school board members. You get to entertain the conviction that language can be a tool for disputing, deliberating, and resolving conflict. 

You’d think that after seven years teaching English, I’d have mastered the art of persuasion. But as I encounter more repeat offenders like the mother pictured here, I understand that no matter the amount of preparation I do for the difficult conversation – no matter Google’s algorithm which confirms the plagiarism, no matter the relevance or rigor behind the curriculum that I teach, no matter the extra hours I put in, no matter the one-on-one help that I offer, no matter the safety nets I rush beneath students who are dangerously close to hitting the pavement—there will still be parents who assume I hate their kid. So I really can’t and shouldn’t take it personally when parents insult me. I can’t and shouldn’t take offense to their skepticism or scrutiny. The best I can do is take it, absorb it, and assume that their frustration comes from their lack of faith in a school system that doesn’t set their child up for success. On that much, we can always agree, and for that much, I can always apologize.   

Thank you, Miss Dorian, for being so open and transparent with your thoughts and struggles! We can all relate. But also, and more importantly, thank you for leading by example on how to show grace and understanding to others. On how to move towards reconciliation and grace, rather than a strong defense.

Truly.

You can connect with Miss Dorian and follow more of her work at her website: catherinedorian.com. 

If you want to hear how Miss Dorian’s words inspired a two-part podcast discussion, check out Schurtz and Ties: a Podcast about Education and culture, Curse of Knowledge vs Gap of Knowledge (Part 1): Analyzing the gaps of misunderstanding between teachers and parents.

Lastly, if you have an idea you’d like to share or someone you believe we could all benefit from, please reach out and let me know! I am eager to share your story.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Education : On Leadership

Work. It gets the best of me.

This picture was taken a day after a major accident. I wasn’t paying much attention to the road; I was trying to call a struggling teacher.

I find that, at the end of the day, when I arrive home to my lovely wife and five fantastic kiddos, I’m exhausted. And not just tired exhausted, which I am, but resource exhausted.

I am less patient than I want to be because I used it all up throughout the day.

I’m less caring and intentional with my wife because I spent the day pushing into hard conversations and thinking and caring for others.

I’m less fun and energetic with my kids because my body is soar, my legs tired, and my mind spent.

Work gets the best of me; my family gets the worst.

I am not new to this understanding, nor am I espousing a wisdom previously unknown to every hardworking mom and dad, husband and wife. I am just renewed in my conviction and more aware that, recently, I am falling asleep on the couch while a child is in mid sentence, that I am spending too many evenings watching a movie or binging tv shows because its easier than anything else and I just want to rest.

My wife is generally very understanding and extremely accommodating to my busy schedule and demanding job. Recently, however, I begun to notice a slight (if not more than slight) slip in my time, efforts, and fight for quality family time. More than ever - and I’m not entirely sure why - I’ve adopted the attitude of “I deserve this” when in reality, I don’t. I just think I do. And I think it has something to do with moral licensing.

Moral licensing is “the habit of balancing out our good and bad decisions.” It is the convincing of “ourselves that it's okay we didn't do any recycling this week, because we usually do.” It is the attitude that its “fine to have that second helping of cake because we went on a run yesterday” (via).

Said another way, it is “when we are confident we have behaved well,” that we have “demonstrated compassion and generosity” all throughout the day or week and are therefor permitted little acts of selfishness, impatience, or thoughtlessness. It is the destructive convincing that, in the scheme of the week, day, or life, we have - generally - been a good person and are therefore permitted small acts of imperfection (via).

The problem with this way of thinking is fairly obvious. Namely, it isn’t right. From a basic integrity argument for sure, but also from a relational argument. Just because we are good most of the time doesnt mean we are permitted moments where we can be unkind, unloving, or foolish. And when I write it out, that truth is obvious. When I try and live it out, I find it much less convincing. And I hate it. My wife and kids deserve better of me.

So why is it so hard? Why do I continually do that which I do not want to do?

My son answered this for me the other day when he and I were engaged in a rather heated discussion. He had been rude to his younger sister and I was getting on him. “I don’t like acting this way,” he said, openly and honestly.

“Then why do you do it?” I asked. “Are you like this at school?”

“No.” He responded.

“Then why at home? Why do we get the worst of you?” I asked, instantly thinking of a black kettle and pot.

“Because it’s safe, I guess.”

Bingo.

Work, although safe in many regards, is not nearly as safe as my home.

If I am short with my staff or impatient with my words, I can expect a phone call or visit from my boss. If I don’t show up to work, I don’t get paid. If my behavior is less than what is expected, I will be placed on an imrovement plan. At work, there is immediate and uncomfortable accountability.

At home, there is grace. At home, there is unconditional love. At home, there is comfort. And comfort can be an incredibly bad thing.

I know my wife won’t leave me, just as she knows I won’t leave her. But not leaving is a pretty low bar of expectations. We can stay together for the next thirty years but be completely unsuccessful in our marriage, in raising our kids.

And that is exactly what has been on my mind lately.

When my career is over, when I receive the retirement plaque of 30-some years commitment to this wonderful profession, I don’t merely want my wife and kids in attendance, I want them celebrating their dad. A dad they know, that they respect, and that they are proud of. I want my wife to be excited for the next chapter of life because she has learned from the past seven that no matter the circumstance, I will be present. That in all things, no matter how busy or exhausted I am, I choose her.

Lately, I don’t think she could confidently say that.

In a recent conversation with a friend I found myself saying, “I am defined by my family. My wife, my kids. But I spend more of my days thinking about and caring for my profession - the kids in my building and how I can improve the school.” I spend less time considering how to pursue my wife, support my kids, and build a solid and safe home.

Work gets the best of me. My family gets the rest of me. And that just simply terrifies me.

So what do I do? What does this acknowledgement mean? And, more importantly, what can I do about it.

One, I think flirting with moral licensing needs to go. That’s a dangerous and dark alley, and the fact that I’ve even lingered on the corner makes me sick.

Two, I need to place some of my selfish ambitions aside - or at least be willing to. So what if I gain all that my mind desires - a successful publishing career, a several times recognized blue ribbon school, and great applause for all I’ve done - if my wife and kids don’t know me, don’t trust me, don’t like me, what is it worth? A pile of dirt, that’s what.

And three, give to Caesar what is Caesar’s. I am not responsible for what will happen, only what needs to be done (as I slightly nod to Gandalf). I am also responsible for what I’ve been given. And what I’ve been given is a kind and gracious wife who loves others more than herself and five kiddos who need a dad, a father, and an example. If loving and caring for them lowers my chances of personal advancement, so be it. It is out of my hands. My children, my wife, my family, however, are not. And I need to grip them tightly.

Work may get the most of me, but it doesn’t need to get the best of me. I can love my job, work hard at refining my craft, come home exhausted, and STILL carry some of the best of me through the door. And I must.

Becoming a better father and husband makes me a better principal, educator, and leader because it makes me a complete, more well-rounded person. And when I am a more complete, well-rounded person, work gets the best of me. And so does my family.

#doGREATthings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Education : On Leadership

MFPE 2022: Referenced Resources

Thank you for attending my sessions!

Below are links to the books, podcasts, and stories referenced. You can also click on any of the social media links (at the bottom of the page) and stay connected!

Thanks again. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything.

Session: #DoGreatThings : Five Habits of a Healthy Culture

1. Humilitas: Lost Key of Life, Love, and Leadership
   
   Give:

1. Story of the taxi driver saving Christmas

2. Deep Kindness by Houston Kraft

   “And while they make for good products and posters, they can do more harm than good. Without paying attention, we’ve started to ‘fluffify’ the thing. We are talking about Kindness in an oversimplified way.”

3. Give and Take: Why Helping Others Drives our Success, by Adam Grant
   Favorite quotes

   “Every time we interact with another person we have a choice to make: do we try to claim as much value as we can, or contribute value without worrying about what we receive in return?”
   

   Relate:

1. Story of my Grandma sitting with the young man, hearing his stories.

   Explore:

2. Revisionist History Podcast: The Creative Power of Misfits

3. Story of talking to strangers in Hawaii
   

   Analyze:

1. Dare to Lead by Brene Brown

   1. Man in the Arena quote

2. The Advantage by Patrick Lencioni (Fundamental Attribution Error)
   

   Try:

3. Good to Great by Jim Collins (Stockdale Paradox)

Session: Prove You’re Alive : Why we Teach and How we Live

1. Daniel Pink

   1. Drive: The Suprising Truth About What Motivates Us

   2. TED Talk

   3. Shortened animated video

      All humans are motivated by three things:

      1.Autonomy: The desire to be self-directed

      2.Mastery: The desire to get better at things

      3.Purpose: The desire to make a difference

      *Money is not a motivator . . . ish.

2. Out There, by Outside Magazine

   “Every word you read of this useless fine print is another second off your life. Don’t you have other things to do? Get out of your apartment. Meet a member of the opposite sex . . . Quit your job. Start a fight. Prove you’re alive.”

3. My Morning Jacket: Bermuda Highway

   “Don’t let your silly dreams, fall in-between, the cracks of the bed and the wall”

4. Deep Kindness by Houston Kraft

5. Leading with a Limp: Take Full advantage of your most powerful weakness, by Dan Allender

   “Anyone who wrestles with an uncertain future on behalf of others – anyone who uses her gifts, talents, and skills to influence the direction of others for the greater good – is a leader.”

   And as a leader,

   “To grow in confidence, connectedness, and success, you have to admit for all to hear that you are a failure.”

1. Ways to Stay Connected . . . Please Reach Out!

Lastly, I would LOVE to come and speak at your school! Be it with your staff or students, if you would like me to come to your school or district, please email me at millerbrianstoriesmatter@gmail.com and connect me with your building or district administrator.

Thank you in advance!

And thank you again for attending.

Sincerely,

Brian

Podcast Appearance : CharacterStrong

Today our guest is Brian Miller, Principal at Chief Joseph Elementary in Great Falls Montana. We talk to Brian about his motto “Be the Story”, and how this can have a positive impact on people and the world around us. He also shares about ways they practice kindness with the staff and students at Chief Joseph Elementary by giving genuine, specific compliments.

Brian T. Miller is the proud principal of Chief Joseph Elementary School located in Great Falls, Montana. He has been a principal and English teacher throughout the country as well as internationally. He is a blogger, writer, public speaker, and believer in the power and purpose of education. Samwise Gamgee is his hero.

You can listen to the episode here.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Education : On Leadership

"Low burden, high impact" : Acknowledging the Kids in the Middle

Great reminder.

#doGREATthings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

For more on . . .

-N- Stuff  :  Education : On Leadership

Friday Thought : Keep Knocking

Several years ago, this letter was sent to one of my teachers. It now hangs, laminated, on the wall next to her computer. Recently, she pulled it down and showed it to me. Then, she told me the story.

This young man was not a great student. In fact, he was a terrible student. Be she loved him, worked with and never gave up on him, even when he didn’t show much growth or change - all year long.

Nor the following year.

Nor the next.

Nor the next.

Then, almost ten years later, the above letter arrived in the mail.

My friend has a phrase, "Just keep knocking." And he reminded me of it again the other day. I shared with him how frustrated I was with a particular student, that no matter what I did or said, I was not getting through. "Maybe it isn't your job to 'get through,'" he said, "Maybe all you need to do is just keep knocking," he said.

And I like that.

Sometimes, it isn't our job to solve the issue. Sometimes we are not the ones who will make the breakthrough. Sometimes all we are tasked with doing is knocking. Over and over and over again.

We can't force people out of bed or off the couch. Nor can we make them answer the door. But we can keep knocking. Which, for many, is precisely what they need - the constant thud of someone knocking on the door, reminding them that they matter, that someone cares, and that they are not alone.

Because here’s what I know to be true:

If we stop knocking, they will never open the door. If we knock, they might.

And if we knock long enough, I am convinced that they will eventually open the door. And then, it will all be worth it.

Even if it takes ten years.

Thank you, *teacher*, for knocking.

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

Happy Friday!

#doGREATthings!

Give. Relate. Explore. Analyze. Try.

Be the Story : Be Someone to Someone Else

My friend Eric Beard sent me this picture the other day. It’s his theme for his AP English courses. “A lot of my kids are feeling super intimidated,” he wrote, “And I’m trying to remind them that there’s a reason they’re here. That this is where they’re supposed to be,” and therefore, they need to “own it - their story, their reading and writing, their life.”

“Be the Story,” he encourages them.

And I would extend the same to you.

If you are cautious or nervous about this coming year, I encourage you to Rise Above and Be the Story!

If you are excited for this coming year, confident in who you are and role you play, I challenge you to See Beyond Yourself and Be the Story for those around you!

If you are somewhere in-between or all of the above, if you have committed yourself to helping others, I challenge you to Embrace Your Failures and Be the Story!

Here’s how.

Be the Story : Rise Above

Just like Eric Beard’s AP students, many educators are entering this year nervous, cautious, or even fearful. And for a myriad of reasons.

Whatever it is for you, own it. Call it by name, acknowledge it’s presence, then choose to Rise Above!

If it is gossip you are afraid of, you can choose to Rise Above the reality of being misunderstood and continually strive for what is good and right and true. You can choose to Be the Story of integrity and perseverance and kindness for your school and community.

If it is the prospect of failure that overwhelms you, let me put you out of your misery: you will fail! But when you do, you can choose to Rise Above the embarrassing moments and continually strive to live a life of conviction and adventure. You can choose to Be the Story of growth and resilience for your students.

If it is the memory of broken relationships that causes you to mistrust or hold back, you can choose to Rise Above the pain of disappointment and take another step, give another try, and reach for another chance of building new relationships or mending old ones. You can choose to Be the Story of grace and forgiveness for those who are watching, as well as for those who need it most.

People are going to have their opinions about you. Let them. We can’t control them any more than we can control the weather. What we can control, however, are our decisions, our actions, and the stories we provide.

Where in your life are you falling into the rut of expectations?

Where are you holding back when you should be stepping out?

Where are you allowing past narratives to control your decisions, momentum, and direction?

Whatever your answers may be, beat your fears back with a club, RISE ABOVE, and choose to Be the Story. For yourself, and for others.

Be the Story : See Past Yourself

Sometimes, the best stories in our lives are the one’s where we need help. They’re the ones where we’ve tried our best and done all we can, yet still fall short. Sometimes, the best stories are the one’s when someone else is the center. When someone else is the hero.

Like this one:

For a man who is often the center of attention, Steve Harvey’s story would not be what it is without Rich and Becky.

Sometimes, to Be the Story, we must set aside our personal dreams and ambitions for the sake of someone else’s. It means choosing others - their success, their happiness, their attention - over our own. It means risking our own comforts, advancements, even reputations for the benefit of someone else.

But only if have the strength to see past ourselves.

Think about why you became an educator. I bet a former teacher or relative, perhaps even a counselor or youth pastor comes to mind. Someone who spoke into your life, took the time out of their day to invest in your, or lived a life that inspired you. I bet you are where you are because someone else chose to see past themselves and invest in you.

Who in your life needs a little extra oomph of support? Who needs to be noticed? Who needs an acknowledgement of all that they are doing?

Who needs a few more moments of your time? An unexpected pair of extra theatre tickets, coffee, or walk around the block?

Who is the story in your life, and you’ve never told them?

Every time we interact with someone at work, home, or in public, we have the choice to either bless ourselves or embrace the opportunity to encourage another. If we choose to Be the Story by seeing past ourselves, we spend our interactions looking for ways to be generous with our time, resources, energy, and ideas. We choose to uplift another rather than promote ourselves. And in doing so, in sometimes large but oftentimes small and incremental ways, we impact lives and make a difference.

Be the Story : Don’t Waste the Failure

I have been in education long enough to know that failure is the beginning of growth and learning. I’ve also been in education long enough to know that failure is not something most educators are eager to experience. We would all rather be the story of competence and success, not the story of failure.

But failure is something we cannot avoid.

No matter our intentions, our work ethic, our education and experience, we are all prone to moments of epic failure and great defeat. And the more we try, the more we put ourselves out there and strive to do Great Things, the more likely it is we will fall on our face.

So we might as well not waste it.

Failure allows us to grow in empathy. “When anxiety increases,” Dr. Borba writes in Unselfie: Why Empathitic Kids Succeed in our World, “empathy decreases.” If we are consumed with being perfect we become so consumed with our own lives that we have very little time to think or worry about another’s. Because we fail we are able to understand the failure of others, relieving them of judgement, and opening the door for an opportunity to help.

When we’re not busy being consumed with our own selves, we notice other people in the world, people we might be able to serve. We see them with fresh perspectives. We see their fragility and their need.” - Get Out of Your Head, by Jennie Allen

Failure allows us to grow in humility. They force us to acknowledge our true weaknesses which in turn allows us to ask for help. And to the degree we are willing to stop and ask for help - to admit past or impending failure - to that same extent we will create “an environment conducive to growing and retaining productive and committed colleagues” (via). One of the most destructive ambitions in the world of education is the incessant quest to be perfect. When we embrace our mistakes we invite others into lives of transparency. When we embrace our mistakes, we help those around us grow in confidence, connectedness, and success.

Failure allows us to be better people. It helps us learn and grow for sure, but it also just makes us better people. It makes us kinder, more forgiving, understanding, and easier to approach. Failure allows us clarity to embrace where we’re great, seek help where we are not, and live in community with others. Failure is what makes us human, reminding us that we are not the center of the Great Story, but a crucial character in someone’s story. Failure is the open invitation to Be the Story, for yourself and for others.

But only if we embrace it, own it, and refuse to waste it.

As we enter this school year, with excitement, intimidation, or trepidation, I encourage you to be the kind of person who creates moments that people talk about, remember for years to come, and spend their lives attempting to duplicate.

Be someone to someone else.

Be the Story.

Yearly Themes : The Do's and Don'ts and Why They Matter

“An organization doesn’t become healthy in a linear, tidy fashion,” Patrick Lencioni writes in The Advantage: Why Organizational Health Trumps Everything Else in Business, “Like building a strong marriage or family, it’s a messy process that involves doing a few things at once, and it must be maintained on an ongoing basis in order to be preserved.”

This messy process, he explains, “can be broken down into four simple disciplines:”

1. Build a Cohesive Leadership Team

2. Create Clarity

3. Overcommunicate Clarity

4. Reinforce Clarity

In short, there needs to be a theme.

More specifically, there needs to be an overly communicated (and clarified) theme that is tangible, actionable, and timely.

A yearly theme provides the clarity every healthy organization needs, for both students and staff as well as the surrounding community members. It also provides unity.

In contrast, a weak or sloppy theme can - quite unintentionally - create confusion, frustration, even destruction.

If you’re working on creating a theme for your school year, here are a few do’s and don’ts to consider.

The Do’s:

When thinking of a theme, envision entering a stranger’s house. You take off your shoes, hang your hat on a hook, and notice, somewhere in the entryway, a saying. Be it painted and framed on the wall or etched in the doormat, it might say something like, “Live, Laugh, Love,” “Gather,” or “Welcome to the s*** show.” Whatever it says, those words were put there intentionally because the owner of the house believes they are important, believes it says something about them, their house, and their expectations. It also sets the tone for how you should act and the things you can say.

Schools are no different.

Therefore, when creating a theme for your school, one that will literally or metaphorically hang by the door and proclaim who you are and what you hold dear, keep the following in mind.

Make it Clear Enough for Unity, Vague Enough for Autonomy

I was once in a district leadership meeting where the superintendent of twelve international schools was trying to create some consistency between us all. Of the twelve, one principal was finding it difficult to get on board, “We are all different,” he would argue, “With different staff, different students, and different needs. We cannot possibly be the same!”

And he was right. But he was also wrong.

A healthy organization understands that in order for people to be motivated, each individual needs three things: Mastery - the ability to get better at things, Autonomy - the freedom to be self-directed, and Purpose - the belief that they are making the world a better place (from Daniel Pink’s DRIVE: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us).

A purposeful theme, then, allows for individuality. It promotes ideas, allows for uniqueness, and encourages growth. It embraces uniformity and combats conformity.

Remember, years ago, Lance Armstrong and his, “Live Strong” campaign? If we forget all the mess around him, we can learn a lot from his slogan and why it was so popular. Largely, because it invited growth and hardships and encouraged us to be better - however that means for us, individually. It was fully inclusive (because everyone needs to endure difficult times), but it was also deeply personal. You could apply Live Strong directly to yourself.

A theme that encourages conformity is restricting and destructive. It prevents questions and squashes creativity, individualism, and advancement.

A theme that encourages uniformity, however, provides safety and growth. It allows individuals to be uniquely themselves under the safety net of a group, a tribe.

When creating your theme, consider the following questions:

Does it provide unity?

Does it allow for autonomy?

Make it Timely. Make it Personal:

This one is perhaps a no-brainer, but that does not mean it does not bare repeating. Yearly themes need to represent your school and community. What they need, who they are, and where you need and want to go. A theme that is disconnected or unfamiliar will be a source of irritation rather than inspiration. “What does that even mean?” they might say, or “He/she clearly doesn’t know us.”

Suddenly, instead of being a rallying cry that brings your staff and students together, it will be a mockery, the source of watercooler gossip, and a potential banner for the opposition.

I experienced this in one of my previous schools with the theme of “Prove You’re Alive.” It didn’t inspire a boycott or rouse any deep or elongated frustrations, but it didn’t inspire us either. Nor did it bring us together. It was just banners in the hallways and me with a megaphone with a few isolated cheers and awkward claps. The purpose of the theme was legit, so too was the goal. The process of creating it, however, was entirely flawed. It was my conviction, my idea, and my vision. And because it was mine, it was not ours. Which made it shallow and impersonal.

In order for a theme to mean something, in order for it to grab hold and move the school community in the same and unified direction, it needs to be personal. The staff need to not only understand where it comes from and what it means, they need to believe that it is important. The best themes come from the staff. As leaders, we can help guide the discussion and provide insights and ideas, but it is the staff that need to build it for they are the ones that will live it.

In order for a theme to stick it needs to be personal. In order for it to inspire change it needs to be timely. In order for it to be both it needs to come from the staff.

Was your theme inspire by the ideas and words of your staff?

Or,

Was it curated and hatched in isolation?

Make it Actionable:

In his book, Deep Kindness: A Revolutionary Guide for the Way We Think, Talk, and Act in Kindness, Houston Kraft warns against the use and public display of cute and playful - albeit well-intentioned - quotes and themes. “While they make for great products and posters,” he writes, “they can do more harm than good. Without paying proper attention, we’ve started to ‘fluffify’ the thing” rather than give it life and meaning and purpose. We’ve oversimplified it, watered it down, and made it a catchphrase rather than a lifestyle.

“The practice of Deep Kindness doesn’t happen just because we believe in kindness,” Kraft continues, “It’s something to strive toward, and a skill set that has infinite room for improvement.” It requires daily and purposeful action.

So too do our yearly themes. Instead of fluffy, intangible ideas or phrases, our themes needs to be something that has substance, that calls people to do something. It needs to be actionable.

In 2021, the year after our nation shut schools down because of COVID, my schoolboard decided to bring students back to school. The problem was we didn’t know how long that would last. We had all the safeguards in place - masks, social distancing, contact tracing, etc. - but no one knew for sure what would happen or how long we’d be in school. Our theme that year was, “Make it Count,” and I loved it because it was a daily reminder that we just didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, so Make it Count today!

And it resonated with everyone. Be it staff members, students, or community members, “Make it Count” directly applied to life. In conversations with family and friends, creating lesson plans, participating in after school activities, and in disciplining behaviors, the reminder to take full advantage of the opportunity was there, each and every day.

Does your theme inspire action for you, your school, and your community?

For teachers, when they are exhausted or frustrated, does your theme remind them to keep moving? To stay the course? Does it bring them back to what matters?

For students, does your theme guide them in the way that they should go? Is it something you can point to when celebrating success or when providing redirection and discipline? Does it help them become better students? Better people?

Does your theme call people to action?

Or,

Does it imply that you’ve arrived?

The Don’ts:

A poorly crafted theme, although often created with good and purposeful intentions, can have negative consequences. Especially if the theme isn’t explained or coupled with actionable do’s and don’ts.

When creating a theme, here are a few easy pitfalls to avoid:

Don’t Make Vague Proclamations:

Themes that make a proclamation about how great we are without a roadmap to gettering there not only keep us stagnant, they create entitlement. “We’re great because we’re great.” And if we’re already great or the best or out of this world at something, then what are we working on? What are we working towards?

Themes that make proclamations without specificity are like farmers planting with Brawndo. “Because it has electrolytes!”

Themes that involve statements such as, “We are out of this world,” mean nothing. Although good intentioned, they don’t lead people anywhere. If it isn’t tangible, actionable, or quantifiable, how will people know what to do? How will they know why they are Out of the World or the Best in the West?

Vague proclamations also, unintentionally so, create entitlement. We are AMAZING not because of what we’ve done, but because of what we are. And what are we? We’re amazing.

But why? And how does our staff, our students, or our community hang their hat on that? Vague proclamations tell us what we are without guiding us on what to do or how to do it.

And if they don’t know how to do something or why they do it, what’s the point?

Don’t Make it Personally Personal.

Themes that are used by leaders to passive aggressively make a point are devastating to the moral and growth of a school.

For example, a theme of “No Complaining” may seem like an obvious bad choice for a school as it is not only aggressive, it is negative and scolding. It’s passive aggressive counterpart, “Good Vibes Only”, however, is not so obvious a bad choice largely because it is sold on t-shirts and stickers and comes with bright colors and wavy fonts. But it is essentially saying the same thing, “No Complaining,” and a staff that is struggling, that needs help and support, and that foresees pitfalls or wants to improve and grow, they will learn pretty quickly that anything other than smiles, compliments, and Good Vibes will be seen as the opposition.

True leaders have hard conversations, clear expectations, and constant communication. They deal with conflict personally and carefully. They take care of their staff rather than abuse or manipulate them.

Themes that are passive aggressive, however, that are personally personal to the leader and are used to manipulate behaviors are not only wrong, they are devastating to a school culture. It handicaps the growth of the school, destroys the bridge of trust between the leadership and the school, and creates (or enhances) a very toxic environment.

Don’t Assume Everyone Understands:

Most any theme can have a positive impact on a school and it’s culture if it is clearly explained. In contrast, any theme created with the greatest intentions but without explanation can fall flat on it’s face.

No matter the theme, explain it. As Patrick Lencioni argues, in order for an organization to be healthy, leadership must create clarity, overcommunicate clarity, and reinforce clarity.

So break it down. Give a rationale, a goal, and steps to achieve that goal. Better yet, have your staff do it for you (or with you), then come back to it time and time again.

Purposeful themes are more than words printed on t-shirts or banners in the halls. They are a vision, a roadmap, and a battle cry for the year. They proclaim who we are, what we value, and the direction we are headed.

They provide clarity. They create unity.