It was a few months ago, I was in the Costco food court line and the individual in front of me said, "Do you want my drinks? We aren't going to use them." A simple gesture of kindness. Passing on to someone else something they may need and you don't. My oldest son looked at me afterwards and said, "that was nice." A moment in time. An individual doing something not in self-interest, not necessary, but taking a few seconds of that person's time to try to brighten another's day.
We are about to enter the winter shopping season. I've actually appreciated not seeing internet videos of freaked out Black Friday shoppers raging against the lines. I've enjoyed the Facebook posts of people sharing moments at the parade rather than great shopping finds they have discovered online. I've liked the pictures of those choosing to #optoutside on Black Friday and take hikes with their kids or fish in a lake. I am sure the angry shopper videos will come, the great deals will be shared, and the shopping adventures will occur. However, I think perhaps as a society we are discovering that taking the moments to spend the time with each other throughout the silly season and the year are of at least equal importance to the discoveries we make to show our appreciation of each other.
Being kind is something children learn from all of us. It may be an individual holding a door for a stranger, someone offering to take their empty shopping cart to the cart return, or paying for the next person's drink at the coffee drive-through line. Kindness is an activity we can teach anyone by simply doing it in our own life. We show our own kids this when we take time to listen to a clerk's story regarding their favorite Thanksgiving stuffing or giving up our place in line to someone with 4 young kids dying to get their McNuggets. Kindness is learned and can come from the most odd and unique places.
Kindness is based on an awareness of others. A willingness to give up just a little bit of yourself in terms of time, energy, attention, money, or items to make someone else's day a little brighter. We teach our children this by simply doing this within our lives while they are present. It's easy to do if we are doing it anyways. We teach other people's children it also by simply doing it in their presence. Easy enough if we are doing it anyways. Sooner than you know it, you'll see your children doing it to. So this summer I learned a new habit to. I pass on my soda cups at Costco when we aren't using them also. A big thanks to the mysterious stranger who taught me a simple act of kindness.
In schools, we learn how to succeed. We learn to take little steps, complete things, identify the directions, create manageable goals, and work together to win. We talk about "Fail" as the "first attempt in learning." As a professional community, educators have learned to focus deeply on social-emotional learning. Yet in all of this, one aspect we rarely touch on in school is fear and the anxiety it produces.
In 1949, George Orwell wrote about a society which was always told to be afraid of the people and leaders of other societies. In the 60's, 70's, 80's we learned to fear the Evil Empire. These were big untouchable fears. But real fears grew closer to home. Maybe it was being afraid of bees, poison ivy, dogs, failing, losing a job, or losing a loved one. Each individual has fears and how often have we as a society worked to give our children and our adults the tools.
As a parent, and a young adult, I have begun to realize how real fears are. Whether in working with new dads anticipating their first baby, adults who've lost loved ones, young men and women who have lost their first job, it dawns on me that these fears are real. The lack of control is real. The feeling of helplessness is real. How do we give each of us, adults and children, the skills and capacities to address these situations, challenges they feel they can't control, and provide the ability to move forward.
This need became obvious to me on Wednesday night. The unbelievable had happened. First, it was the Cubs in the World Series. Something I had never seen. Something my father, my aunt, and my uncle had never seen. There were moments that felt so Cub. Falling down 3 games to 1. Facing a former Cy Young winner in the final game. Giving up two runs on a wild pitch in the 5th. There we were, generations connected from Scottsdale to Scotland, Madison to Chicago to Ann Arbor, from the oldest grandparent to the youngest infant. Anticipating, fearing, dreading, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I think of the learnings we can teach. I think of a kindergarten classroom in our district, where on the wall there is a simple phrase, "Be Brave." I think of how unusual it is that we address this and how powerful the tools are that are being taught in this room. A phrase and a focus that needs to spread. For if we raise children, not to not have fears, but rather how to be brave, then in those uncontrollable moments, we might not feel the collective anxiety and react rashly but rather with that bazillion dollar smile as Kris Bryant approached that final out, grabbing the ball and ending the burden of Cubs fandom.
One of my roles at work is to work with students who have been identified as "Limited English Proficient," their teachers, and their families. These children are often the children or grandchildren of immigrants. Like my great-grandparents, their families came to this country from wherever they had lived before filled with dreams, desire, a strong work ethic, and a willingness to make it as a family. For each family, it's not easy. They come from a variety of linguistic and cultural backgrounds. They have native languages in Gujarati, Malayalam, Serbian, Spanish, Tamil, and others. Many work two shifts to make ends meet. Sometimes the children understand why their parents or grandparents made this journey and sometimes they don't. In the end, the children and their families simply want to be welcomed, make friends, and lead good lives. As I work with the teachers that support these students and their families, they share stories of the worry and anxiety that this election cycle has had. The vast majority of our families are legal immigrants, however, the broad brushes of politics have stirred feelings that have made these students and families feel unwelcome.
I live in Chicago and for most of a century, the Chicago Cubs have been pretty dreadful. We tell stories of 1969 when a team filled with Hall of Famers, Willams, Jenkins, and Santo, fell out of contention. We remember the ball going through Leon Durhams legs in the '84 playoffs. We share stories of Steve Bartman, a fan who was blamed for the collapse of the '03 Cubs by manager Dusty Baker, and rarely talk about about moments prior shortstop Alex Gonzales error that led to the collapse. Through all of this, Cub fans have been extremely resilient. From the Die-Hards like of previous generations like my Grandfather Rudy, Uncle Al, and Aunt Bea, to the friends that have consistently crowded the bleachers whether they were winning 70 or 90. For Cubs fans, even in the darkest of times, there has always been hope.
This month, my television has turned into a nationwide version of the Jerry Springer show. Debates and political campaigns, regardless of your political ideology, have become more spectacle than policy discussion. Growing up, political dialogue I would expect to see on the MacNeil/Lehrer Newshour or hear from Milton Friedman, now has references from Wikileaks and Access Hollywood. Like the historic observer of the Cubs, regardless of the side of the aisle you sit, it can feel like we have reached a point where there is no hope. Our families with Limited English Proficient students certainly feel this way. In Field of Dreams, Terrence Mann (James Earl Jones) reminds Ray Kinsella (Kevin Costner) through the seas of change that have swept our country, one constant remains, Baseball. This is no truer than now. While we watch one of the ugliest elections of our time, the Chicago Cubs seem to have risen from the ashes. With the best infield since Tinkers to Evers to Chance, America is being swept from a northside ray of hope. With a hashtag #nomorenextyears the lovable Cubs are providing some positive all of us need.
In times of darkness, each of us needs a symbol. A reminder of what is good in this world and the difference each of us can make. A silly positive moment, to remind us of what can be, to see the good, and believe in each other. As we work with students and their families that feel the negative swings whether from their own lives or from a national dialogue, sharing symbols of hope and a positive future. Helping them find ways where they, or more appropriately we, can make a difference. That is the guidance all of us need.
I was in a first grade class the other day. Children were asked to read independently. Some chose to pick up a book. Others chose to open an app on their iPad. Two individuals, a boy and a girl, walked up to the teacher independently at different times and asked if they could use Brainpop. My first reaction as an observer was that watching videos isn't reading. And, it isn't. However, the experience stuck with me. I've dwelled on it for the last 15 or so hours. Maybe there is more to this.
I have two children. One is a vociferous reader. Hand him a book and two hours later he is done with it. He is constantly reading text, whether in print, on the screen, or on the back of a cereal box. He tends to prefer stories, often towards leaning towards technology such as science fiction. At times he enjoys humorous fantasy or comic strips. My other child is a utilitarian reader. He reads because he has to or because he wants a specific piece of information. He is my non-fiction child. His reading is often how to do something or how something works.
When I needed to figure out how to add freon to my wife's minivan, I read the directions and that only got me so far. When I clicked over to youtube and watched some homemade videos, instantly I understood. I even had the video replay as I did it.
For both of them, and many of their friends, they learn more often through video. My utilitarian learner is constantly watching how to videos. He wants to know why something works or how he can modify something into something else. His video stream reminds me of the scenes from A-Team or MacGuyver, when they build something to solve the problem. However, instead of the montage, he is taking in the step by step analysis of how to do it. My vociferous reader seeks out videos that are either how to get through a video game level, political humor, or SpongeBob.
While we would project my vociferous reader as the one most likely to learn more because he reads more, I think my utilitarian reader is working to learn more often. In our heads, because we grew up in a text-driven society, access to print opened and closed doors. However, if a picture is worth a thousand words, how much value is there in a video? My utilitarian learner has skills at age 9 that I could only dream of. He is the curious one, wondering deeply about how the world works.
I am not sure which child will be better off. I hope for the best for both of them. Either way, I think the way we learn maybe changing. Text may not be the gatekeeper to knowledge anymore. Like those first graders, perhaps some of the time we may access learning more efficiently by clicking the video and checking out Brainpop.
I taught high school in the mid-Nineties. As with all schools, there was one teacher who expounded on how challenging her class was. She frequently mentioned that she had high expectations for her students and that most often she was disappointed by the children of this school. When talking with one of my administrator friends, he explained to me, this talk was simply code for the fact that 60-70% of her students got a "D" or "F" in her class. The administrator saw this as a problem. He explained to a young wet behind the ears (from swim practice) intern that our role was to help students learn the concepts. If many students weren't passing it was on us. Either we needed to be better in facilitating learning, our measurement had bad questions or a bad scale, or we needed a new measurement.
Recently, I have heard the word rigorous used when describing why students are doing poorly on a measure. The most recent incident was when two speakers at a conference I attended explained that the reason students were now doing more poorly on a new assessment of standards than previous assessments of the same standards is that the test was more rigorous. Perhaps Vizzini might call this "inconceivable." Lets look at the situation:
Same population being assessed, check.
Same standards, check.
New Assessment, check.
New Scoring Rubric, check.
One may look at the situation and ask, perhaps "rigorous" doesn't mean what you think it means. Perhaps we have a bad scale designed only to pass a few students. Perhaps we have some bad questions that only a few kids can get. Or perhaps, we have a bad assessment overall.
We are finding that more "rigorous" often is test maker jargon for not many kids are going to get this. I was a swimmer. Swimming the 200 fly was more rigorous than swimming the 50 fly. No matter how slow you tried to go, there was no way around it, you were more exhausted after 200 fly than 50 fly. Doing a Tough Mudder is more rigorous thank doing the mile run. Failing a lot of students on an assessment isn't about more rigor, rigor comes through the experience, it's about trying to set the bar so people will fail, just like the teacher who was "challenging" or having "high expectations." Code words are code words and we need to recognize the situation. The more I think about it, the more I find these actions "inconceivable."
The sun rose as I pulled into Caruso Middle School parking lot on Friday morning to drop my eldest at Cross Country practice. Mrs. Spies warmly greeted her 30 to 40 students and their requisite drivers as she welcomed them in for their morning run. Across the screen of my phone came a group text from our friend's daughter celebrating to with my sons, my wife, her sister, and her mom, "and just like that, it's my Bar Mitzvah weekend." What followed was congratulations from the adults and memes (funny videos and pictures) that she and the children were making instantaneously to celebrate the event. Yes, I said making. As adults mostly we share them, but children, they often create them. Here were shouts of joy from a child becoming religiously a woman, and due to her family dynamics and the tools in her hand she had the capacity to share them with the world.
The other day, I took my son and his friend out kayaking. They had met at camp and it seemed like a terrific adventure. They children brought their phones with them, in nice waterproof cases, and I brought the dog. There was great fun as they tried to tandem paddle down the river. Occasional tossing of algae at each other. Occasions when paddles collided. With their phones draped around their neck, they took the occasional picture. As we pulled past the river into a lake portion of the journey, my son's friend asks Siri to FaceTime her father. Simply, she wanted to share the view and moment with her dad. While she was having a blast with her friend, that moment, that time, just like that she was able to bring her dad into an event, talk with him, show him, share, and then return to tossing algae.
From time to time I see articles shared about how children's devices and screens are the problem. I remember my uncle raving about the "idiot box" television as he listened to the dronings on of the radio. I think it's easy for each generation to cast stones at what the youth of the day are doing. I think it's harder to boil it down to the essential values of what is driving youth to make those choices and understand how the children are doing that. Gary Larsen once drew for his Far Side comic strip, the following:
A satirical commentary that families once did something when they were bored that wasted time and that during the seventies and eighties, families chose television. When my children are bored, they sometimes watch screens. From my perspective dreadfully boring expository dialogues walking them through Minecraft, Pokemon, and the best Nerf guns (don't ask why, I don't get it either). When my children are bored, they also create movies. Filming themselves making silly songs, dancing, reenacting scenes, and making their own scenes. Most importantly, when I provide my children with an experience such as kayaking, seeing a cave, walking through a museum, they are there too. Often sharing the moments with their friends, our family, and with each other both orally and digitally.
Youth has always wanted their voice to be heard for her they are. In the 50's and 60's it was ham radios. In the 70's it was the high school and camp radio stations. In the 80's films such as Pump Up the Volume and Breakfast Club, the cartoon Jem and the Holograms celebrated this theme. In the 2000's with Raise Your Voice is one example of the continued theme. And now on the Internet all across youtube, youth creating their channels and sharing their stories. The theme is we want to interact and share our perspective of the world. The tools of today are our phones, our tablets, and our Chromebooks. Yes, we can long for times when kids played stickball in the street and spent time tossing rocks across the pond. We can also see our kids for who they are and create opportunities for them to embrace their world and maximize who they can be.
Growing up, my mother was one of the local community doctors. Back before corporate run large medical groups, she was in solo practice. Hanging her proverbial shingle outside her office. She ran the business. At first it was a couple of employees and as the business grew, the obligations and support team grew also. During the eighties, the availability of technology changed and as a result, the skills necessary to lead the office and the tools within the office changed also.
One of our first roles of helping out mom at the office was filing records. The had rows and rows of cabinets with patient records. When we were in on the weekend, it was our job to meticulously file them alphabetically in order so that the receptionist, nurse, or my mom could get to them quickly. There were never a lot to file, but usually 15 or 20 that hadn't gotten done by the close of the day on Friday. However, when we would walk into the records room, we were literally surrounded by files. All painstakingly organized for quick access.
I walked into my son's doctors office now. Its a small practice, four doctors. The receptionist is in an open air area with windows behind her. It's a nice view. There are no files. She uses an earpiece to talk to individuals on the phone. In a moment's notice she has all of the information on my son. She sends a digital alert to the doctor to let us know we picked up his prescriptions.
The change from the records room to now didn't happen overnight. There were many that said it wasn't necessary, there would be fewer jobs for people, and it wouldn't improve health care. Many professionals needed additional time, support, and training to make the transition. However, as we complete the journey, we can certainly say that our medical professionals have greater access to up to date information to provide the best care they can.
Thirty years later, we are making the same transition in education. Sure we did it long ago with student records. However, teachers, administrators, and secretaries make up only a small portion of those who work in schools. Students are by far the largest number of workers in a school. The digital transition to student devices is more than simply screen time and glowing parchment. The impacts are more than access to Khan Academy videos and digital games. The impacts begin with simple work flow. If emailing out a page for students saves 10 minutes at the copier (figure walking to the copier, running the copy, and walking back, all assuming that the copier works and their is no line), and 3 minutes of passing out papers, that number alone adds up to incredible savings throughout the school year of teacher time and student time. If digital distribution, means that now I can distribute different worksheets to different groups, not only is time saved but now we can get more aligned products. If digital distribution means that students can send me back their work electronically instead of putting it in a bin, needing to ensure that every paper has made it to the bin and has a name on it (ask a teacher, this is a real problem), and I need to sort it and organize it, there alone is a tremendous time savings. If digital distribution means that I have access to teacher and student materials beyond the age level I teach, there is an incredible time savings and learning opportunity. None of these huge savings addresses the incredible product development opportunities for students and teachers, authentic publishing experiences, or research opportunities available to children and adults. The digital revolution is as much about creating time and learning efficiencies as anything else.
The integration of 1:1 learning won't be easy. It may not be inexpensive. However, the new-fangled ultrasound machine that my mom got for her office wasn't either. Like my mom, we will need to be brave as we change the tools of our practice. In the end, these tools improved patient care, just as 1:1 will improve learning. They allowed more specific and more diagnostic care, just as 1:1 will help in learning.
August is here and as I look throughout social media, it's a time during which so many people are starting new adventures. Many of my friends are beginning new jobs. Some returning to the workforce after some significant time at home while others are trying new adventures. Some friends are writing new curricula or starting new programs. A new principalship or directorship, teaching in a new place or new content, or beginning at a new school. Its a time of energy and anxiousness. For many it's like that first day of high school, a feeling of being ready for this, knowing you can be successful, and anxiousness of so what is this really going to look like.
As we start something new, there are some things all of us should remember. People want you to be successful. Colleagues, friends, and family all wish you to do well. You were brought to the organization for a purpose and to be a difference maker. However, no one thinks you have to do it on day one. It is in everyone's interest that you succeed in your new role whether it's your first day of high school, first day as a teacher, or first day as a superintendent.
It's okay to get to know the lay of the land. All of us spent the days before entering a new school figuring out where our lockers were, what's our schedule, when's lunch. There really isn't a difference between entering the middle school as a student or a teacher. These are things we need to know. Often we all ask questions. In fact it is better to express our questions rather than hold them in and pretend that we know. Colleagues and clients like fallibility, as long as one works to learn and quickly correct the mistakes. Growing from mistakes is one of the best things we can do, whether we are a new student or veteran administrator.
As we start new things is vital that we start and remain positive. In the book FISH!, Stephen Lundin and Henry Paul look into the culture and climate of organizations that make a difference. They note the importance for employees to "choose their attitude." When one chooses a positive attitude, even challenges can be overcome. In our workplace and in all facets of life there are lots of things we can't control. Our attitude and perception truly impacts how we handle obstacles. Its okay to be anxious, nervous, frustrated, and even overwhelmed. However, by keeping a positive attitude, reminding yourself that this is just a stage and you will get through this. Reminding oneself that challenges make us better in the long run. This perspective will help you be successful on the first day and throughout your journey.
August is for many of us a chance to start or restart with a new joy in our work. For both children and adults, inside and outside of school, this is a chance for a fresh beginning. Lets make the most of it.
My son turned 9 last week. Like all parents, I remember so many things from that day and that summer. Last week I realized he was passing the half-way milestone of being at home each week. Nine years from now, he may be starting his own adventures. Completing high school, looking beyond into a world of what will be for himself. He's my second child, so I have had to come to grips with this idea and this internal conversation before.
One thing I often think about with my youngest child is that he was born just a few days before the first iPhone was released. For the eldest child we had separate music players, computers, video cameras, cameras, and internet search devices. My youngest child has spent his entire life being able to essentially put a computer in his pocket. He has always been able to look up information anywhere, play games anywhere, send notes anywhere. Furthermore, he has spent a majority of his life being able to "ask Siri" most of his questions. Sure often he gets a fractured thought or a repeat the question response, but in his reality, Siri is the being inside his device. Often I wonder what the impact of his life's perspective will be from never living a life without a computer in his pocket. Of always having "Siri" being there.
Frequently, science fiction becomes science fact. Dick Tracy had a watch he could call anyone from. So does my wife. On Star Trek, they would verbally ask "the computer" to show them things and provide ship-wide automation. Alexa, from the Amazon Echo, does that now for many "smart" homes and Siri soon will. I remember days of huge multi-function universal remotes that were hard to program but became one device to rule them all. Now a simple one button remote can do it and soon enough more devices will be like Alexa and be on all of the time. On Knight Rider, KITT frequently served as a personal guide and assistant to Michael Knight on their adventures. How long to we reach that point.
My son turned 9 last week. The iPhone turns 9 this week. In less than a decade, the fabric of how our world connects has changed dramatically. It's very clear that with the work Google, Facebook, Microsoft, Amazon, and Apple are doing in "machine learning" that we won't be waiting nine more years before we, adults and children, will have our only personal assistants to answer questions, remind us to do things, and connect us with the universe. It will happen. In my work world of education, I wonder if we are ready to adapt to the reality of these children's world not as if it were some distant idea of Isaac Asimov's but the reality of where the world will be by the time they graduate high school. We speak often of the un-Google-able question, but even those decrease in number each day. Perhaps we need to speak of what children can create, innovate, and cultivate with any piece of information being at their finger tips the instant the ask.
There is a great world ahead of us. A place where the human capacity to be creative, connect with others, and develop innovative ideas is possible. Our children will soon live in the world that I used to dream about while watching tv or reading a good book. Can we prepare this generation for life with a computer in their pocket and KITT as their companion?
This generation of elementary students is growing up with always having a computer in their pocket. The next generation may grow up only knowing self-driving cars. And with each innovation, once we let go of our fears we may realize that we are all a little better off.
During the past 40 hours, I have seen a great many events. I watched 2 graduations; more than 500 students walk past the podium. Each completing a nine year educational adventure. Each stepping forward into a new realm, a new challenge, and a new beginning. I watched a young man stand before a rabbi and choose a new religion after work, contemplation, and deliberation. I saw four young students, each pupils of mine, stand before a congregation and begin the ceremonies of B'nai Mitzvah, signifying a step into young adulthood within our faith. And, I saw a young couple prepare begin the first steps in their journey to become bride and groom.
Life is a book. Its days pages, its months and years chapters. The regularity in which the pages turn is predictable. The chapters create a flow. The contents are unpredictable. For each of the 500 children that walked past the podium. Their book, their chapters, were different. While they had the same start at kindergarten round up and the same end at middle school promotion. The chapters and pages, while predictable in time were each unique, each filled with different twists, turns, and adventures.
As I look at the 4 students preparing for their chance to lead the congregation today, I think of each of them as individuals, as learners, and as people. While close in age, they are not all the same year in school. While each child is smart in their own right, none of them have the same strengths. Some of them thrive sharing in the large group. Some of them most comfortable talking with a close friend. Some are artists, creative in nature. Some athletic, nimble and quick. Some prefer to navigate the lanes of the digital net, aptly moving through the mosaic of code and graphics. Their adventures to here, each challenging with obstacles, trials, and tribulations. With twists and turns that at times made the goal feel impossible to achieve. Each walking before the congregation ready to turn the page to the next chapter and to begin a new adventure.
I look at the young baby girl, standing before the congregation. A toddler discovering the world, embracing it, and openly saying "Hi!" A child for whom the each day the pages provide new obstacles, new discoveries, and new moments. The parents, embracing the moments, loving the discoveries, and subtly waiting for each chapter to pass so that the challenges of this stage and chapter go away and the new ones come forward.
The future bride and groom stood before the congregation with bright smiles beaming. I remember seeing the bride before. Six years earlier, the smile was the same. The hair pulled back in a pony tail. My son grabbing her had, as she, his counselor, walked him to the car. Now a teacher, a bride, a member of the community. In six years, the pages had turned, each chapter filled with ups and downs, unexpected challenge, and plot twists. There she was, hand in hand with her future life partner ready to begin the next chapter.
Tonight, my son will stand with another student before the congregation and lead us in prayer. Each becoming a Bar Mitzvah. Each turning the page of a book. Ending one chapter and beginning another. Their ceremonies while together in time will be slightly different. Products of their own stories, their own adventures, and their own challenges. Like so many of us. June is a time in which we end one chapter and begin the next. How we choose to begin that chapter is the journey. For the graduates, the young mom and dad, the baby, the bride and groom, and the four b'nai mitzvah students each of you begin these chapters surrounded by family, friends, relatives, and mentors who love you and will support you through your choices on this journey.
Nearly 39 years ago, people walked into theaters awed by the grandeur of Star Wars. From the initial special effects laden shot of the rebel ship being chased by a Star Destroyer going over our heads to the Millennium Falcon escaping the Death Star, the movie grabbed our attention in ways that we had not seen before. Each time we watched, we were engaged in a 121 minute ride of awesomeness.
While Star Wars was the space-western of our time, it's appeal has transcended generations. Battlestar Galactica came and went and came and went again. Predator, Aliens, Terminator all came, all went, rinse... repeat. Star Wars was and is different than most space-westerns. Sure it's a story of grandeur, epic challenges, and good versus evil. But it is also a story of finding the best within ourselves.
Star Wars is a story of their being more in each of us than anyone would expect. Whether you are a farm boy from the desolate regions or a smuggler living from payday to payday there is more in each of us. It is a story that grabbed me as a child and grabs many of us when we are open to it. This generation's Star Wars is no different. When faced with adversity, and needing to find something special within oneself. Finn tells Han Solo, "we'll figure it out. We'll use the Force." Star Wars resonates because it talks about each of us being more than what we imagine ourselves to be. We are in the cocoon, waiting to awaken. When we reach out, what hidden talents might each of us discover. As we walk through the days of Spring, perhaps it is time that we look at each of us, our friends, our children, our students and ask what awakening may occur today.
Growing up I knew phone numbers. It was important that I knew at least 15 of them. I knew my mom's work number, the house number, my friends' house numbers, and dad's work number. Seven digit numeric sequences that were paramount to my day to day functioning. Without them, I couldn't make it day to day. Socially, my world was integrated through asking my parents permission to do things and connecting to my friends. The important life aspect of this was the connection, the memorization of the phone numbers was the key to unlock the opportunity, in no way was it vital to the opportunity.
In the 20th century, business leaders were so important that they had secretaries whose sole job was to organize their day. The secretary kept track of the schedule, facilitated appointments, managed key contacts, and helped the business leader pace the day. In the 1980's, more and more business was on the move. As a result Filofax's and Franklin Covey planners rose to prominence. Inside people kept the key information of their lives. Calendars, contacts, credit cards, and meeting notes all in one place. The problem being solved was one Gary Larson put so eloquently in this Far Side cartoon:
Needing something to keep track of all of the information we need to have in life is not a new problem. It is simply a problem we are getting better at solving. The 1990 Charles Grodin-Jim Belushi movie, Taking Care of Business, was centered around the premise of what were to happen to a person if they accidentally left behind their Filofax at an airport. The antics surround an individual trying to establish his identity and another impersonating him, with a fun side story of the Cubs trying to win the World Series. The reality is remembering key information is not a new problem, our ways of coping with it are better.
Frequently I hear concerns, what would these kids do without their devices. Inside it is their lives. Their music, their messages, their contacts, and their calendars. In saying this, we are like the old criminals on a Scooby Doo episode. We are curmudgeons mistaking tool for the objective. The device, like the phone number is simply the key to the lock. The child's texts are simply a replacement for hours on the phone with their friends. Youtube, Spotify, Apple Music and Pandora have simply replaced our CD players and boom boxes. Our calendars have moved from unwieldy Chandlers that if lost our lives would be in peril to digital images that we can pull up on a phone or a watch.
The truth is that I remember my friend's Steve's home phone number during middle school better that I know our "landline" phone number right now. If I, my wife, or my sons, lose "these devices," our key information is mostly secure, encrypted, and can instantly be pulled down from a back up or accessed by us on the web. Now we have the opportunity to instead of remembering the minute details that opened the doors to relationships, conversations, and business to focus on these interactions instead. As Jim Belushi reminds Charles Grodin after catching Mark Grace's fictional home run in the World Series, it's important to see the moment rather than working towards getting to the event.
When a child is a young star athlete, they stand out. They are the ones who play soccer or basketball and dribble from one side of the field to the other and no one touches them. In football, they are the child who is the running back/linebacker moving from side to side making everything happen. In baseball, they rotate between shortstop, centerfield, and pitcher. When that child is on the mound or at the plate, you know it. There is a different sound as their pitch hits the catcher's mitt or their bat cracks as they hit the ball. At early ages they are simply better than the field.
As these athletes get older, the field thins out to be only the stars. The talent difference for the most part diminishes and we look for where the athlete fits. The system the athlete starred in now becomes a key factor in identifying both the past success and future possibilities of the athlete. Football is a great example of this. In college, many offenses play the spread offense. This is different from the NFL. As a result many quarterbacks and offensive lineman are questioned in regards to their potential in the NFL. The concern is can they transition between systems or are they simply a product of the system.
Basketball is the same way. In college you see a myriad of schemes. Syracuse's famous zone defense, the triangle offense, motion offenses, isolation offenses, the Princeton offense. Each of these schemes are very different and players that play within these systems are questioned as to whether it is the player or the system that drives the athlete to success. In the NBA, scouts and general managers look at the success of second round pick Draymond Green and question how did they miss him. The underlying question is Draymond Green a star or a product of playing in the Golden State system.
While for athletes in many sports, we often have multiple systems available to promote success and drive innovation, the same is not as true in education. Essentially, we ask each child to learn the same things at the same time. We move them through a grade-based system in which every mistake penalizes them, focusing them on achieving perfection the first time out or selecting courses at a lower level so that they will not receive as many penalties. Reshma Saujani points out in her fantastic TED talk, that this is even more true for girls than boys. We systematize our students to become risk adverse. Rewarding innovation only within a slim context of content area production.
The results are worrisome and staggering. When employers indicate the modern student isn't ready for the work force, the reality is that the modern student has worked within a system where the only goal is the minimize mistakes to maintain an acceptable level of achievement. Rarely do we cultivate a system in which children are encouraged to try new things, look at problems (not simply more questions from a textbook), and create new solutions. Rarely do we create an environment in which team success is paramount rather than individual mistake avoidance.
This week, Tesla unveiled the Model 3. An innovative electric car aimed at mass-market production. The product itself is a combination of numerous innovations. Each product Tesla has made relies on risks, creativity, out of the box thinking and team collaboration. Tesla, like Apple and Google, need workers who are not simply risk adverse, but are willing to explore, try, fail, innovate, create, and collaborate. Is our system creating these products or will our students need to rise above the system in order to be successful? If they need to rise above the system, is it time to reconsider our work?
Baseball season is around the corner. It's an amazing game. A game that appeals to those who have played, those who watch, and those who love math. For those that have played there is a certain feel, a memory, of standing in the batter's box. A moment staring down towards the pitcher, waiting, anticipating, the quick inhale as the ball comes and the energy as one unloads the bat. An insatiable sequence in which all that exists is a pitcher, yourself, and a ball hurling towards you. It is something that pulls you back towards the game whether you are 14 or 54. As an observer, there is a dramatic artistry that plays in front of you. After the initial batting sequence, this small white pellet is flung into the field. At times we see routine plays in which one sits under the ball and waits patiently for it to fall from the sky. At other times we see acrobatics as shortstops dive and flip for the ball or outfielders run as if they were gazelles streaking across the field eventually climbing the wall to grasp the ball before it lands. A play that moves from quiet stillness to dramatic exuberance in a heartbeat.
The interesting thing is that baseball offices are no longer run by former players, experts in the action, but now mathematicians. Graduates from Harvard, Yale, and Amherst. Computer nerds who run statistical models and probability. Individuals that loved the game but may not have been able to play it very well. They have charts, graphs, regression analysis, and spread diagrams. They know what area of the strike zone to swing and when to walk away. Baseball leaders, who are essentially mathematical gamblers, measuring payoffs of certain types of risks in relationship to the impact on winning. Within these models, there too is an elegance, exuberance, and energy. These are the leaders choosing rosters, guiding decisions, and facilitating the game.
Education has become full of metrics. Comparable data points in which we believe we can measure student development, teacher impact, programatic impact, and learning engagement. We create opportunities for student goals, teacher goals, administrative goals, and district goals. Measurable items that analyze change over periods of time. Metrics break things down into components and assume these pieces add up to a greater whole.
Carlos Quentin, like many baseball players, was a very analytical individual. He was constantly watching film, making adjustments, thinking about his swing. He consistently looked at metrics and was known for overthinking each at bat and each performance. Carlos constantly analyzed himself, seeking data on how much he could improve. This journey consistently had him underperforming his talent. He was known as an uptight, super focused individual. However, in 2008, as a member of the Chicago White Sox, Carlos was having a career year. It all seemed to be coming together. He was hitting .286 with 36 home runs when batting against Cliff Lee he became so frustrated with one of his swings that he punched his bat. Carlos broke his wrist, loosing the season and never regaining MVP form again.
More and more we are teaching students and teachers to focus on the metrics. It is an important, valuable, and dangerous path. A child focusing on a time-bound achievement goal may become so mechanical, that they lose the flow and ease of the product. Imagine a young reader, focusing on how many words per minute they can read. Focusing so much on speed that they lose comprehension. Imagine a teacher driven by the same words per minute metric that they don't halt the child so they can make their evaluation goal.
Metrics are becoming our film room. Ways in which we are analyzing and at times overanalyzing our practice. Metrics are valuable as they tell us about what we are seeing on the field and in the classroom, but they are only one measure of the art before us. In the end, it is the art and the game that matter, not simply the mathematical performance predictors.
In the 80's we learned courage was going in face first against all odds. Courage was standing up to the impossible. All of the movies glorified it. Who couldn't remember John Rambo taking on all of the Vietnamese in Rambo: First Blood Part II, John McClane taking on German terrorists in Nakatomi Plaza in Die Hard, or even Jimmy Chitwood sinking basket after basket as Hickory defeats Southbend in Hoosiers. Courage was something only amazing individuals possessed. Something that was hard to find within ourselves. Finding the courage inside was the theme of almost every movie.
As we grow up, we discover we aren't the bigger than life hero. Even though we want to be Joe and leave the drudgery of the office to go out into the wider world, we discover our realm is safe. Things happen. We find jobs, grow lives, become responsible for others, discover mortgages, bills, and taxes. Life becomes easier as we learn to play it safe. Soon the office becomes our lives and the theme music of life's dreams moseys into the sunset.
Over time we become risk averse. Less willing to share in front of others for fear of being judged. Less willing to try innovative ideas for fear of failing and losing either status or our livelihoods. Fear and desire for stability entrenches us in our status quo. Our inner creativity can often die as courage becomes an attribute of others.
However, there become times when others help us find it within ourselves. No, we aren't going to pick up the rifle and save the foreign language students from terrorists. Rather we find the courage to stand up and try something new. To share an idea. To present something you tried just yesterday. To be open and fallible with others. At our inservice yesterday, I saw teachers present ideas before their colleagues that they themselves were just exploring. New thoughts and techniques that had been tried for just the last few weeks or even few days. Individuals who had never shared before standing before their colleagues and saying, "Hey this isn't perfect, but I am liking the adventure." Sharing their risks and their students responses.
These individuals are finding the inner strength to say I have something to share. Becoming leaders in their own right. Encouraged perhaps by a colleague, a coach, or a principal. Discovering the courage to share, innovate, and create. A courage perhaps more needed and more important than one fighting a hopeless battle against all odds. A courage all of us need. In taking the risk, being fallible in front of their peers, they become the coach, the risk-taker, the encourage. Courage breeds courage. Thank you to those who took risks to share, encouraging us all to find the courage to share more.
As a kid, we would go to school and learn things. We would come home and our parents would ask us questions. Deep and thoughtful ones. "So, what did you do in school today? What are you learning in math? What's your favorite class? What are you reading in school?" They would ask these questions because for them, just like us, school was about acquiring knowledge. Back in 1980something, or 1950something, we couldn't ask Siri what was the capital of Nepal or what was the heat capacity of Aluminum. Life was about gathering information. Those who accelerated to the top, knew how to acquire and hold information and were able to retrieve it quickly.
Teaching during this time required a transaction. The goal for the teacher was to distribute information quickly, accurately, and meaningfully. Occasionally in some subjects we would apply the information. We would all do labs in Science and from time to time have simulations in Social Studies. Even in these experiences, the fundamental component in the end was how we transmitted the information back in the form of a lab report or write-up. The product was secondary to the process. Everything was about the transaction of information. The few kids who actually engineering products were in the shop classes not the college prep courses. Each experience was a transaction. A redistribution of information.
Beginning in 1989 Compton realized it would be very powerful to put the encyclopedia straight on everyone's computer. They released Compton's Multimedia Encyclopedia. However real traction came in 1993 when Microsoft changed paradigm with the release of Microsoft Encarta. Distributing encyclopedias as they sent out Windows operating systems. In 1995 the World Wide Web began to make traction and by 2001 Wikipedia was introduced. In a short 12 year span, we went from information being the vital limiting reagent to universal access to all information. Gone were the days of microfilm and microfiche. Card catalogues disappeared. Film strip projectors vanished the way of the Dodo.
In classrooms, our expectations and our instructional skills were all about the transmission of information. There were exceptions vocational education, fine arts, and physical education. Each class relying heavily on transactional distribution of information for a knowledge economy. Skills, better handled by Siri, Wolfram Alpha, or a Google Search. A shift in the paradigm is occurring. Our kids have figured out how to quickly survive in the world of the knowledge economy. Ask any 10 year old "Who was Joan of Arc?" and instead of replying like Ted from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, they quickly will search the web through any of a variety of means and give you a deep answer about who she was. The transactions of the past have little skill or value in the application world of today.
The differentiator for us as well as our students is how we can transform the knowledge into unique and innovative products. What a student can do with the information is far more valuable than the act of acquiring or redistributing knowledge. This process requires us to rethink the learning experience. Adjust rubrics to include the acquisition of key knowledge but emphasize the capacity to apply that knowledge to create new products and new knowledge. In the past we would encourage students to make the same diorama or poster presentation. Now we want to infuse creativity, innovation, and uniqueness. As these will be the skills that open doors of employment and success. As instructors, since distribution of knowledge is no longer the utmost priority, our role changes. We become coaches. Giving students baseline skills and challenges. Encouraging them to problem solve, create, and cultivate. Providing feedback to their creations not reporting on the status of them recreating our ideas. In a short time the paradigm of learning has changed. It should make the dinner table conversation about "What did you do in school today?" a whole lot more interesting.
When you live in a snow state, February is a grind. The newness of snow and winter has passed. The novelty of snowmen and winter lights has faded. Instead days are simply short. Nights are long. It's cold. The wind is bad. If there is snow, it's a hassle because no one remembers how to drive and getting the kids snow gear on is a pain. Winter, this lovely festival becomes the dreary day to day. It is the grind.
In school's it is no different. The kids wander in their various states of dress. Some bundled up like Nanook of the North, which I remember watching at Downers Grove South High School in 1989, and some dressed like they are ready for Weekend at Bernie's, which I also watched in 1989. Each day we are presenting harder concepts to them because this is the work time, the productive time, the time during which growth accelerates. Each night, kids go home and hit the books. They read, do their math, watch some youtube and head to bed. The next day it's back to the grind.
This is the hard time of year. This is the difficult work. The time in the trenches. This is when the growth happens. Just like a child, where you put them to bed and they wake up a little taller. In schools, this is when we do the day to day hard work and then Spring comes and we realize they came out a little smarter. These are the hard days and the long nights. For kids and adults it can feel like a grind. In our district, between January 4th and March 24th, there are 57 days of school and 2 three-day weekends. There will be many indoor recess days, many wind-blown bitter bus stops, daily learning opportunities that challenge the very fabric of our understanding and many long nights. For now in schools, it is the grind.
As all Winters, even in Narnia, Spring truly is just around the corner. With it, renewal, sun, energy, children still not dressed for the weather, and celebrations of growth. In these tough days we cannot lose track of the power of each day. The investment that comes from the hard work. When we feel as if we are going to snap, recognize that for all of us, kids and adults, this is the grind. However, it's just a stage. This too shall pass, and the value gained from our investment of time, energy, and diligence will bring value in Spring.
As humans we like to believe in a little predictability. We put our faith in the idea that if we do certain actions that certain consistent outcomes will occur. We surround ourselves with people that will provide us with those replicable actions so that we know what will happen. As a result change is hard. We build nests in which faithfully actions will occur. With this predictability often we are more than willing to accept the negative voices within our culture. Predictability and consistency build a comfort and trust that outweighs hope and chance for something more. Courage to break the occasionally bonds of the day to day in order to become something greater takes both energy and faith.
Many of us live good lives. We surround ourselves with good people. We work hard to do a good job. We try our best to raise a good family. Whether its five cats and a little dog or two children with the nicknames mischief and mayhem, we find our niche and work to make it our own. In the process of slowly building this cocoon of success, brick by brick, we rarely stare out the window and ask what could be. Even rarer we stick our head out the window and say can we make this happen.
Nearly three year ago, our kindergarten team came forth and asked why can't we find an opportunity to extend the day to support children. For generations they have led a terrific program. It would have been easy to complain to each other that we need more time. It would have been easy to dream about new opportunities. It's hard to gather together and ask your district leaders, "can we explore this?" It would have been easy for the leaders to exclaim that we don't have the money, the facilities, and the time. As one of our temple's rabbis once said to the other rabbi, "I hear all the reasons why not. What are the reasons why to?" So instead of not asking, the team asked. So instead of saying no, we said why not. In that moment, both groups had the courage to trust and dared to believe what could be.
Nearly three years later, we have 5 schools piloting our Optional Kindergarten Enrichment and
Enhancement Program. In those schools we have nearly doubled our number of kindergarten teachers and rooms. We have found cost neutral ways to do it. We left the cocoon of predictability and dared to make something greater. It has not been without challenges, change, problems, and struggle. However, to walk in and watch those teachers and children engage in the learning process, social interaction, and creative journey, we wonder what would happen if we didn't cultivate this opportunity. It is our hope that we can work through the challenges and create this same experience in all six buildings.
The creation of something new requires a courage to trust, a willingness to ask why should we, and daring to believe that we can be something even greater. Whether its a new program, a new teaching partner, a new job, or a new career, developing the energy to aspire for something more is hard. It's an act of faith, an act of trust, and a hope for the future. Like all leaps forward, there are times we stumble, times we hear rejection, moments in which we discover that there are no points for second place. However we must hear those rejections, face those failures, and accept those losses while still moving forward to a greater future.
I am a baseball fan. Specifically a White Sox fan. I enjoyed the teams of the early nineties and the World Series in 2005. I look at the team on the north side of town. I see the century of failure. I followed the five years of losses in this decade as the leadership team openly developed an organization and vision: 2010 (75-87), 2011 (71-91), 2012 (61-101), 2013 (66-96), 2014 (73-89). Five year of failure while maintaining the courage to trust. The Cubs, an organization that dares to believe. The fruits of their willingness to break the cocoon of safety are beginning to ripen. A team with a pipeline of talent that is starting to blossom. I don't know if they will win the World Series in the next few years, but they certainly are a contender. Instead of asking why not, they found reasons why to. A moment for each of us to look within ourselves, a moment to consider the risks, have the courage to trust, and dare to believe in what could be.
Back in the 80's, television went through a period in which showing of what "real men" did included building gadgets and coming up with creative fixes. Each episode of the A-Team contained a montage of B.A. Baracus (Mr. T) building some necessary vehicle or fortress in order for the team to help solve some victim's dilemma. However, no show was better at it than the Richard Dean Anderson classic, MacGyver. With the tagline, "His Mind Is The Ultimate Weapon," MacGyver was the guy into maker spaces before there were maker spaces. He was known as the character who could build any gadget, make any escape, or solve any problem with his pocket knife, some duct tape, a paperclip, and whatever else was laying around. Furthermore, he would explain it to you as he built it. It was a cool time when fictional characters did more than simply drop one liners, they did real things too.
In the 80's, it wasn't a big stretch to see guys building things because we all knew those guys. The ones who just did home improvements, tuned their cars, got up on the roof and fixed the roof. It was a time when real people actually fixed things. If something didn't work, we didn't just go back to the store and return it, but we went to the repair shop to fix it or you found your guy. I've been lucky enough to have two such MacGyver's in my life. Uncle Deedles was the original. He built an entire cabin in Canada. He had a blow torch in his garage and an oscilloscope in is his basement. I remember him hooking up motors and running pulleys. He always had something in the works. Uncle Deedles moved to the Pacific Northwest in the 80's and I went MacGyver-less until the mid-90's. Then I met my father-in-law Don.
Don was a throwback. Like Deedles, he had a 100 different projects in the works. His basement was a treasure chest of tools. There were saws, grinders, wires, wrenches, and conduit. He was always fixing something, and like MacGyver always willing to tell you how he was doing it. Not only was he the dad who would be waiting up for you on the couch to return with his daughter from a date, he would want to tell you about the project of the day when you got there.
As a first-time homeowner, Don was the father-in law you wanted to have. He taught me how to snake the plumbing and install a sink. He was there on a weekly basis as I finished up the basement, teaching me to frame the room, bend conduit, install electrical, and tape drywall. Don would stop by each week, teach me a skill, give me homework, and comeback to check if I'd done it right.
Don knew things that most college-grads never dreamed of. He was a guy who did his own tune-ups and oil changes. Taught me how to change brake pads. He barbecued and fixed things. And most of his projects were mostly done most of the time. Over the past few years, Don slowed down. As many of us, not being able to do the projects he once did. But his gifts didn't slow down. Last year, my friends were rebuilding their kitchen. Logan, my youngest son, and I went over to Don's, borrowed the reciprocating saw, the pipe bender, and a couple of sledge hammers and went to work to help them. For a couple of months, there we were. Hammering away, hanging in the crawlspace running conduit and fishing wire. A young man learning to be the next generation of MacGyver as he hung with his dad.
It's been a hard week around here. Last Saturday we lost Uncle Deedles and yesterday morning, Grandad Don passed away. While I sit here crying, writing, and crying, I look at little reminders and realize that your gifts go from generation to generation. While you might be lost, your legacy lives on. Although my friends may think I'm handy, I am a poor substitute. My brother Roy is the MacGyver of my generation. He's the guy when you need to go down the pit to fix the well or sweat copper, you call. As I look at the next generation, Cameron is me in far too many ways to count, a digital child who is the son of a digital child. However, Logan is very much both of you. Last night, there he was building away at some creation. Some cardboard, tinker toys, trinkets, and other stuff. Little projects started here and there. Pausing to explain to anyone who would listen, how the creation works and what it does. An engineer coming into his own living in a world that once again embraces creativity, innovation, and maker spaces. He will be the MacGyver of his generation. L'Dor V'Dor, the Hebrew saying of from generation to generation.
Growing up, my aunt and uncle lived just down the street. Frequently when my parents weren't home, I would spend time hanging out at their house. Sometimes I would be annoying my cousins or being tormented by them, depending on the day, sitting with my aunt discover new plays, television shows, or foods, or watching my uncle build something creative. Everything there was unique and different. It was a potpourri of creativity.
As I knew my uncle, he was a thinker and a tinkerer. I remember taking long evening walks with him, my dad, and the dogs. We traveled the streets of Downers Grove for what I believe was miles, but I was a kid. As we walked he would talk about politics and science. He would express thoughtful views on so many things in the world. My dad and him would analyze everything as if they were in the salons of Europe two hundred years earlier.
In an era of Cold War politics and yuppy materialism, my uncle was the tinkerer who rebuilt everything, drove around an old right-handed drive post office jeep with the dog in the passenger seat, and retreated each year to an isolated cabin in Canada with no running water. In an era that pushed for conformity, he walked a different path. He found meaning in other things and showed my brother and I that there were other things one could do. He was a successful business owner, yet found meaning in things far greater than that.
As we raise our children, are we giving them the courage to be different? Do we give them the opportunity to explore their interests and be one with themselves? Living life within our true interests and self requires a tremendous amount of inner peace. I thank my aunt and uncle for helping teach me this. As I look at the lives my cousins, my brothers, and I lead I see it. I see it in a daughter who each year participates in Doctors without Borders, a granddaughter who plays roller derby, a son with a deeply religious family, a nephew who builds the most amazing creations and works deeply to preserve our world and another nephew who studies the ancient world. Very different lives in a world that likes sameness.
Last night we lost Uncle Deedles. While I hadn't seen him often since they moved to the west coast. Each time I had the opportunity it was like picking up exactly where we left off. Thank you for teaching each of us it was ok to question assumptions, be unique, and live different lives. It may not have been in words, but it was modeled in everything you did.
Logan and I are going to go for a walk now. Maybe its time we got a dog too.
I had breakfast with a former colleague the other day. Like many of us, we reflected on old times and shared stories of new adventures. Each time we get together, I discover a little more about the times when we worked together. There are layers of relationships, ones we share when first meet people, ones we share when we are in the trenches, ones we share when our roads part, and ones we share when time has past and the journey is but a distant memory. Time imparts wisdom, safety, and virtue. It makes our success all the brighter and our struggles all the dimmer.
The colleague's story was one of how slight changes make a big difference. In our past work together, we had developed systems to support student learning and promote interdependence for staff in order to facilitate student learning. Simply we found unique ways for teachers and support staff to team together in order to provide more specified instruction to meet children where they were at. Systems were developed to support both academic and social growth. The trick was, times had changed, students had changed, staff had changed, and leaders had changed. As a result, while the systems still existed, few understood the core values of why they were in place and what values were hoped to be derived from them. Thus, overtime, like any mechanism they were beginning to rust and decay. People were still doing because they were required to still do, but with out the vigor, value, and investment of previous generations, and as a result without the effectiveness.
In listening to my colleague's story, I began to understand that leaders don't just tell us how to do things, but rather help us buy into a vision or purpose. At each level, teacher, coach, principal, district leader, board member, our leaders invest us in a common purpose, drive their actions towards the purpose, and help give us the tools to accomplish that purpose. As individuals we seek out that dare to be great situation. We recognize that challenges are not easy, but within us we each strive to be vested in experiences that matter, experiences that make a differences, and experiences in which we can be vital towards the success. It is one of the leader's roles to put forth the opportunity for us to be in these dare to be great situations. When given the challenge, the mission, and the resources, we are all capable and willing to be contributors, leaders, and difference makers.
One can have the best resources in the land, the best materials to work with, the most staff available, and while these help, they are only part of the solution. Success is not simply about the tools we have but also the purpose for which we strive. As leaders, whether in the classroom or of the organization, it is our task to ignite our co-workers with the fire of challenge and purpose, the recognition that we can be part of something unique and innovative. That we, because of our unique tools and purpose, can be a vital contributor to the outcome. This is something my colleague and once felt and now missed. It is something I hope to help find again.
You need people of intelligence on this sort of ... mission... quest... thing. - Peregrin "Pippin" Took
