Sherry Langland

I’ve been reading quite a bit lately (well, probably more like a lot) about leadership and living a great life.  I’ve been feeling that my life has hit a plateau, and I’ve been searching for the next adventure, the next chapter.  And I don’t mean the next bring-your-own-everything-to-survive-7-day-kayak-around-the-Bowron-Lakes adventure.  I mean the next adventure in my everyday work life.  What do I want to take on that will push me outside my comfort zone?  I’m not sure why I like it out there, but I do.  Sometimes I wish I would just settle for a rut and coast along with my blinders on.   But I know that that is not realistic nor productive, and I’d just get restless as I am now.  So my quest continues.

This quest took me to the Storyline Conference in San Diego.  To be honest, the main draw to this conference was that it got me out of an Edmonton winter that was wearing me down.  So, while I wasn’t too sure what it was going to be about, some of the guest speakers really intrigued me.  Jia Jang, the 100 Days of Rejection Therapy guy; Tripp Crosby of the comedy duo Tyler & Tripp; Anne Lamott, a quirky and hilarious writer; John Richmond, a human trafficker and civil rights prosecutor, and not to mention a free concert with two up and coming musicians, Ben Rector and Steve Moakler.

I came away with two new insights, along with some other lessons (and some much-appreciated sun and seaside time).  One insight came from an improv workshop I attended.  Because there is no script in improv, you have to make it up as you go which can be scary.  To do good improv I learned, you have to do four things: live in the moment, listen well, make bold choices, and commit to them.  Life is like improv, says Tripp, there is no script.  You wake up each day with a blank slate, and to make the most of life, you have to live in the moment, listen well, make bold choices, and commit to them.  Which can be scary.

The other thing I learned is that nobody wants to read stories with boring characters who live boring, mundane lives.  Actually I already knew that, but when our session leader equated that to living our lives, the proverbial light bulb flicked on.  Who wants to be the boring character living a boring life?  Do I step boldly into my story or shrink back from it? When I am pursuing my dreams and challenges confront me, do I hit the brakes or hit the gas?  Like riding a motorcycle, when you get into trouble, hitting the gas instead of the brakes often straightens the bike out.  Same with life.

Have I figured out what my next chapter is going to be about?  No, not exactly.  But I do have a vision.  So I’m going to hit the gas and keep working towards it because another thing I learned is that visions don’t need the details worked out in advance.  Then it isn’t a vision anymore, it’s simply an errand.  And now, I don’t feel as restless or anxious about my next adventure anymore…well, OK, maybe just a little.

Has your resolve to stick to your New Year’s resolutions begun to fade?  Or has it fizzled out altogether?  If so, you are not alone.  Forty percent or so already have. By the end of the month, some 85% of us will have abandoned our resolutions.  Not very encouraging, is it?

I got so discouraged with failed resolutions that I made a resolution to never make another New Year’s resolution again.  It’s the only one I’ve managed to keep.

That doesn’t mean I stopped setting goals, though.  Over the years, I’ve learned to do just that: set goals.  Ones that have a much better chance of surviving beyond the first month. The key, I discovered, is to answer the ‘how’ of the goals I wanted to accomplish.  If I wanted to develop leadership skills, how was I going to accomplish that?  If I wanted to get fit, how was I going to accomplish it?  If I wanted to write more, how was I going to accomplish it?

I needed a plan of action, and I needed to write down my plan of action.  Leadership and time management experts like Bill Zipp and Michael Hyatt suggest that we are more likely to meet our goals if we write them down (something I never did when I made resolutions). But, not only do we need to write them down, we need to make them smart or, rather, SMART:

S – Is my goal specific?  Rather than ‘write more,’ a more specific goal might be to write for 20 minutes a day everyday in order to produce 2 blog posts per month.  The ‘what to write’ could be a little less specific but still have prompts available for any writer’s block. On weekdays, I could set aside 20 minutes after supper.  On weekends, the first thing in the morning before turning on any electronics.

M – Is the goal measurable?  I can measure the time and the days that I write.  I could also check them off on a calendar.

A – Is my goal actionable/achievable? Yes, and it pushes me outside my comfort zone just enough.

R – Is my goal realistic and/or relevant?   This is crucial.  If we set unrealistic goals for ourselves, we are more likely to lose heart and give up.  Going from couch potato to marathon runner in 30 days is not realistic.  For me, writing 20 minutes a day is realistic and relevant to meeting my goal.

T – Is my goal time-bound?  Do I need to set a deadline or a time frame?  My daily writing will be ongoing, but my posts will need to have deadlines, likely every 2 weeks.

This is not a fail-safe method.  It still requires self-discipline, but by writing our goals down and being deliberate about how we work towards them, we improve our odds of achieving them.

So, is there a difference between resolutions and goals?  Perhaps not, especially if your resolutions are specific, measurable, actionable, realistic, and time-bound.  That is what can make all the difference.  I just like to call them goals.  That way I can set them at any time of the year.  And I can keep my resolution to never make another New Year’s resolution.

What have been some of your successes (or struggles) with resolutions or goals? I’d love to hear from you.  And, if you know someone who might enjoy reading this, please send it on to them!

If you’d like to try using SMART goals, here is a link to one planning page: https://akla.org/commons/files/2013/01/GoalSettingwithSMARTGoals.pdf

“Memorizing multiplication facts is pointless.  Students nowadays need to know problem solving.”

“Writing 5-paragraph essays is no longer necessary.  They can learn how to organize their writing other ways.”

“And what is the point in memorizing a poem?  They can just look it up on the internet.”

Whenever I hear comments like these, most of me agrees.  Spending large chunks of instruction time on questions and facts that can easily be Googled does not improve student learning.  Nor does writing 5-paragraph essays 5 times a year.

But there is also a part of me that believes that teachers cannot unilaterally abandon every googable question or fact.  And I’m not even sure why.  But I keep thinking back to the high school that both of my boys attended.  No matter how many times I had been in there, I would always get a little lost.  But I learned to navigate my way around the school by returning to the main entrance and re-orienting from there.  That point of entry helped me to find my way around the school.

In much the same way, students knowing their multiplication facts is the entry point to better number sense.  When my grade 9 students have to stop and think what the product of 8×6 is, I get a little uneasy.   Will this come back to haunt them when they are trying to assess the safety factor of a load bearing beam?  Will they be able to double the ingredients in a recipe without a calculator?

Experimenting with writing a 5-paragraph essay is as important as other forms of non-fiction and creative writing.  The essay helps serve as an entry point for expository and persuasive writing. It can provide a framework and improve critical thinking skills when essays are reformulated into business letters, proposals, blog posts, position papers, or tweets.

And memorizing a poem.  What possible value could that have?  Good question.  There is some research to suggest that memorizing is good for the brain function.  But, I remember having to memorize two parts of the poem “The Lady of Shalot” by Lord Alfred Tennyson and doing a lot of complaining about it.  But I also remember that as I said the lines over and over, I came to appreciate the beauty and lyricism of the words.  It was my entry point to discovering the richness of language.

Don’t get me wrong.  I am not advocating for the return to rote memorization, nor am I advocating for the 5-paragraph essay 5 times a year.  My concern is that education sometimes falls prey to polarization on some issues.  It’s either “this OR that.”  Either we do lots of memorization OR none at all.  Either we over-emphasize 5-paragraph essays OR not at all. What I am advocating for is finding a balance between “this AND that.” Small, measured doses of memorizing AND lots of critical inquiry.  Experimenting with 5-paragraph essays AND other forms of writing.

At my sons’ high school, one point of entry was enough for me to eventually learn the layout of the school.  But, as educators, we need to be very mindful if we are limiting points of entry for our students.  We risk not meeting the learning needs of many of our students, and we can’t afford that.  Students need multiple points of entry.  This AND that.