My office staff is amazing. They welcome each and every visitor and phone call with a smile and they also spoil me on my birthday. They jokingly said that I should buy fun books with the Barnes and Noble gift certificate they gave me this year and not those nerdy school books I usually buy. I just love those nerdy school books. I think it's because I'm a nerd. I also love memoirs but funny ones only. (Read Me Talk Pretty One Day and expect to laugh the entire time but, caution!, also expect to laugh when you feel like you shouldn't every seven or eight pages or so.) So I picked up Bossypants by Tina Fey. What she has taught me so far is that improvisational sketch comedy is just like education leadership. I'd also say that she's taught me that I can't even read a book that has nothing to do about school leadership without thinking about school leadership but I already knew that about myself. It's a gift and a curse.
Apparently there are four rules of improv (found on page 84 and 85 of Bossypants.) You have to read through my interpretation because the initial rule, if applied consistently in my work as a school leader, would make you think, "Wow, she must be a really bad. Why am I reading this?" Don't panic.
Tina's words are in italics and quotation marks below.
Tina Fey's Rule #1:
"The first rule of improvisation is AGREE. Always agree and SAY YES. So if we're improvising and I say, "Freeze, I have a gun," and you say "That's not a gun. It's your finger. You're pointing your finger at me," our improvised scene has ground to a halt. But if I say, "Freeze, I have a gun!" and you say, "The gun I gave you for Christmas! You bastard!" then we have started a scene because we have AGREED that my finger is in fact a Christmas gun.
Now, obviously in real life you're not always going to agree with everything everyone says. But the Rule of Agreement reminds you to "respect what your partner has created" and to at least start from an open-minded place. Start with a YES and see where it takes you."
Who knew Tina Fey and Peter Block had so much in common?
Tina Fey's Rule #2:
"The second rule of improvisation is not only to say yes, but YES, AND. You are supposed to agree and then add something of your own. If I start a scene with, "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you just say, "Yeah..." we're kind of at a standstill. But if I say, "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you say, "What did you expect? We're in hell." Or if I say, "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you say, "Yes, this can't be good for the wax figures." Or if I say, "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you say, "I told you we shouldn't have crawled in this dog's mouth," now we're getting somewhere.
To me, YES, AND means don't be afraid to contribute. It's your responsibility to contribute. Always make sure you're adding something to the discussion. Your initiations are worthwhile.
Okay, seriously. Who knew Peter Block and Tina Fey had so much in common?
Tina Fey's Rule #3:
The next rule is MAKE STATEMENTS. This is a positive way of saying "Don't ask questions all the time." If we're in a scene and I say, "Who are you? Where are we? What are we doing here? What's in that box?" I'm putting all the pressure on you to come up with all of the answers.
In other words: Whatever the problem, be part of the solution. Don't just sit around raising questions and pointing out obstacles.
Rule #3 reminds me of Switch (authors, Chip and Dan Heath). Start with a clear vision for where you're going and really strong first step that outlines a specific behavioral change, and don't worry about all of the details. The details will bog you down. If you're embarking on the kind of change that's needed, you don't have the answers (let alone the right questions) anyway, silly.
Tina Fey's Rule #4:
THERE ARE NO MISTAKES, only opportunities. If I start a scene as what I think is very clearly a cop riding a bicycle, but you think I am a hamster in a hamster wheel, guess what? Now I'm a hamster in a hamster wheel. I'm not going to stop everything to explain that it was really supposed to be a bike. Who knows? Maybe I'll end up being a police hamster who's been put on "hamster wheel" duty because I'm "too much of a loose cannon" in the field. In improv there are no mistakes, only beautiful happy accidents. And many of the world's greatest discoveries have been by accident. I mean, look at the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, or Botox.
Remember, I said, "Don't panic"! I know good school leadership doesn't happen by accident. But this rule goes hand in hand with Rule #3. Thinking there's a "right" answer before we even know which questions to ask will inhibit you from visionary thinking. Through the guidance of a brilliant mentor, I've come to realize that what I used to perceive as a deficit in my thought process was actually a strength. When I felt as though I didn't know the questions to even ask, I used to feel that I must not be understanding how multifaceted the change problem was. Now, I know that I just don't need those details to go forward. It's not a lack of thoroughness. We can't figure it all out on the front end anyway.
When we embark on complex change and the leadership required to see the change through, we can't get panicked with the details. Just like an improvisational comedian on the stage, we have to roll with it, think on our feet, don't limit possibility, and keep the four rules in mind. If you haven't read The Answer to How is Yes, I recommend it. I'm thinking one of Block's workshops and Second City must have a lot in common.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
"I saw the boat falling off the edge"
I'll send my "baby" off to Kindergarten in August. Okay, he's not a baby. He's ten. But for the first time next year as a fifth grader, he won't be in the same building as me. Good for his healthy social development, bad for me.
He's a smart boy. He was an only child and only grandchild for six years until his diva-like younger sister (who he affectionately dubbed "the pink menace" when she was two) came along. Consequently, he had lots of one-on-one time around interesting adults. He comes up with some great one-liners now and then. When I can tear him away from Ro-Blox and his ipod, I love to quiz him while listening to Pandora about who sings what. He's mastered recognizing Carole King, The Beatles, Coldplay, and Pearl Jam. We're working on James Taylor, Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, and a few others.
He's an observant kid with a special kind of ten-year-old wisdom. So, while I was quizzing him on who sings 19th Nervous Breakdown in the car on the way to summer school this morning, he randomly told me "The world is flat, mom," I looked at him inquisitively because I figured he must have been stewing about something. "What do you mean?" I asked. "You know, flat," he said as he motioned with his hands pointing at the horizon. Okay, I overshot a little. He was referring to the appearance that the world seems flat from our perspective, not to a Friedman-like analogy about the leveling of learning and economic opportunities around the world.
I told him I had a book by that same title and he said, "I know. I saw the boat falling off the edge." Like I said before, summer is the time for reflection so he said this and "Bingo!"...my brain immediately started thinking about that analogy. My August-anxiety started building officially today, June 29. Darn.
There are many times in the upcoming school year when we'll very much feel like the boat is going off the edge of the world. But it's not. There may be times when we're not certain that we have the ability to figure out the next steps to keep moving forward. But we do. How do we build in opportunities throughout the year to take a step back and realize that we're not helpless when it feels like the boat's going down? How do we stay the course in turbulent times when the path isn't as clear as we would like?
So my boy's comment today didn't reflect a deep understanding about the current state of the world and how it's changed but, um, you know, he's ten. It did, though, cause me to think a little bit about the weight of the flat world on our shoulders and our collective ability to keep the ship from falling off the edge. It takes the whole team to guide the ship. It takes everyone's strengths. Read what Stephen Covey has to say about being "just a trim tab" (The Eighth Habit, Chapter 7). My job is connecting and encouraging people, staying calm in rough waters, and keeping the vision visible. Doing this allows us to focus more on mission than survival.
My goodness. Just like his mother, my young son has so much to learn. Which to tackle first? Scientific misconceptions about the shape of Earth or Jumpin' Jack Flash. I'm going with Mick and Keith. Some things shouldn't wait.
He's a smart boy. He was an only child and only grandchild for six years until his diva-like younger sister (who he affectionately dubbed "the pink menace" when she was two) came along. Consequently, he had lots of one-on-one time around interesting adults. He comes up with some great one-liners now and then. When I can tear him away from Ro-Blox and his ipod, I love to quiz him while listening to Pandora about who sings what. He's mastered recognizing Carole King, The Beatles, Coldplay, and Pearl Jam. We're working on James Taylor, Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, and a few others.
He's an observant kid with a special kind of ten-year-old wisdom. So, while I was quizzing him on who sings 19th Nervous Breakdown in the car on the way to summer school this morning, he randomly told me "The world is flat, mom," I looked at him inquisitively because I figured he must have been stewing about something. "What do you mean?" I asked. "You know, flat," he said as he motioned with his hands pointing at the horizon. Okay, I overshot a little. He was referring to the appearance that the world seems flat from our perspective, not to a Friedman-like analogy about the leveling of learning and economic opportunities around the world.
I told him I had a book by that same title and he said, "I know. I saw the boat falling off the edge." Like I said before, summer is the time for reflection so he said this and "Bingo!"...my brain immediately started thinking about that analogy. My August-anxiety started building officially today, June 29. Darn.
There are many times in the upcoming school year when we'll very much feel like the boat is going off the edge of the world. But it's not. There may be times when we're not certain that we have the ability to figure out the next steps to keep moving forward. But we do. How do we build in opportunities throughout the year to take a step back and realize that we're not helpless when it feels like the boat's going down? How do we stay the course in turbulent times when the path isn't as clear as we would like?
So my boy's comment today didn't reflect a deep understanding about the current state of the world and how it's changed but, um, you know, he's ten. It did, though, cause me to think a little bit about the weight of the flat world on our shoulders and our collective ability to keep the ship from falling off the edge. It takes the whole team to guide the ship. It takes everyone's strengths. Read what Stephen Covey has to say about being "just a trim tab" (The Eighth Habit, Chapter 7). My job is connecting and encouraging people, staying calm in rough waters, and keeping the vision visible. Doing this allows us to focus more on mission than survival.
My goodness. Just like his mother, my young son has so much to learn. Which to tackle first? Scientific misconceptions about the shape of Earth or Jumpin' Jack Flash. I'm going with Mick and Keith. Some things shouldn't wait.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Summer's Peace
There's something particularly special about summer time as a principal. From my perspective, it's the gift of reflection combined with the 90 degree weather, the opportunities to work at my patio table early in the morning or late at night, and the complete and total absence of discipline referrals (except those that ensue within my family as my own two children no longer have the comforting routines of the school year.)
In the spirit of reflection and gaining some much needed perspective, I was so fortunate to chat with a personal and professional mentor that I haven't had a chance to talk with for a few years. How to summarize all that we discussed? Hmmmm...our work is about teacher leadership, living an integral life, combining the science of pedagogy and human development with the art of relationships and intuition, and establishing structures within a system to create endless possibilities. With our inspiring conversation mulling through my mind, I feel like I can figure out the next five years of dilemmas before me.
As I left his office and was walking to my car, I looked down at the conglomeration hanging around my neck. It's a contraption that my father lovingly refers to as "Laura's wind chime" when he removes it from his kitchen counter and tucks it safely away. It's comprised of my building keys, flash drive, and faculty name tag. (All hanging from a stylish Brighton lanyard...we princesspals have to be fashionable you know.) It occurred to me that maybe I've got all that a good leader needs right here in the parking lot: my building keys, the flash drive of every document I own, and some thoughts from a trusted mentor to see me through. Oh, and the nametag...in the quest to serve others a good leader never forgets who she is, but she may forget her own name.
Here's to all the mentors out there that impact good people to do good work. You've still got most of June, July, and August to speak to a school leader at a time when they can hear you...go do it.
In the spirit of reflection and gaining some much needed perspective, I was so fortunate to chat with a personal and professional mentor that I haven't had a chance to talk with for a few years. How to summarize all that we discussed? Hmmmm...our work is about teacher leadership, living an integral life, combining the science of pedagogy and human development with the art of relationships and intuition, and establishing structures within a system to create endless possibilities. With our inspiring conversation mulling through my mind, I feel like I can figure out the next five years of dilemmas before me.
As I left his office and was walking to my car, I looked down at the conglomeration hanging around my neck. It's a contraption that my father lovingly refers to as "Laura's wind chime" when he removes it from his kitchen counter and tucks it safely away. It's comprised of my building keys, flash drive, and faculty name tag. (All hanging from a stylish Brighton lanyard...we princesspals have to be fashionable you know.) It occurred to me that maybe I've got all that a good leader needs right here in the parking lot: my building keys, the flash drive of every document I own, and some thoughts from a trusted mentor to see me through. Oh, and the nametag...in the quest to serve others a good leader never forgets who she is, but she may forget her own name.
Here's to all the mentors out there that impact good people to do good work. You've still got most of June, July, and August to speak to a school leader at a time when they can hear you...go do it.
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