Category: education

Artemis II and the Joy of Challenge

Posted on by MichaelPortas

“We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard; because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win, and the others, too.” -JFK

“There’s no crying in baseball” is not the best line in A League of Their Own. Most memorable? Absolutely. But best? No.

And it’s not even close.

The line that overshadows it belongs in the pantheon of great pieces of insight into the human condition. When Jimmy confronts Dot about walking away from the sport, she tells him that it got to be too hard. His response is phenomenal: “‘It’s supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t, everybody would do it. The hard is what makes it great.”

In context, it’s brilliant. Out of context, perhaps even more so.

Think on that: the hard is what makes it great.

As a species that is naturally inclined towards ease, what is it within us that compels us to do the hard, to pursue it, even at great risk.

Look no further for a recent example than the Artemis II mission to the moon (and back), which reminds us how a nation’s attention and imagination can be captured by action that testifies to preparation, ingenuity and courage. 

I cannot fathom how hard it is to send people to the moon and then bring them back, safely no less. Yet, that seemingly impossibly hard task captivated us. The focus,  determination, talent and guts compelled us and hopefully inspired people across generations to want to dedicate themselves to great achievement, though likely at a more accessible level..

The trouble with doing hard things is that, simply enough, they are hard to do. Unfortunately, hard things are easy to quit or just fat out avoid because it is also quite common to fail.

So why do it? Why choose to do something that, by definition, others are unlikely to do? Why take the challenge and risk failure?

The answer lies within each of us. My answer comes down to two words.

For a long time I argued that the secret to life is joy. It makes sense because joy feels great and is palpable to those who bear witness, but a few years ago I amended my position. There’s a next step to joy.

Now I contend that fulfillment is the secret to life, but that it can only be attained with joy. And therein lies the appeal of challenge.

There’s little joy to be found in the commonplace. If I turn the faucet and get water, I don’t feel any degree of elation. But if I struggle to find a solution to a complex situation, especially if I didn’t get to the end point within the first few attempts, I feel something real.

Isabel Allende’s observation that she hates writing, but loves having written applies to actions and activities in our own lives. Whether in your professional or personal lives, there are things for which the process is burdensome or painful to endure, but the product can be so fulfilling.

While most of us will likely never achieve anything as hard as going to the moon and back, we can all willingly approach the hard in our lives. The immediate payoff likely won’t be readily apparent, but we can encourage ourselves to take actions that follow the words of sources ranging from the youngest president ever elected to a character based on an alcoholic ballplayer or a brilliant novelist or even some educator sharing his thoughts from North Jersey. 

Just as people lift weights to build strength, we can build ourselves by embracing the onerous task of doing hard things joyfully and then feel the fulfillment of real accomplishment.

Jaws & COVID: Decision Making When Good Options Don’t Exist

Posted on by MichaelPortas

My superintendent career began in September 2019. Six months later, school buildings closed for COVID, which led to a 3-month remote learning slog to the summer, The elation of finishing the school year quickly gave way to the gut punch of planning for the school year to follow. It was awful.

That August, in a Zoom meeting with my county colleagues, I made a reference to feeling like the mayor in Jaws. Some of my fellow superintendents, nearly all of whom had considerably more experience, tactfully helped me realize that they thought I was an idiot. I sat quietly for the rest of the meeting.

So who is the villain in Jaws?

It’s not the shark, which is simply doing shark things. Nor is it Quint. Chief Brody gets slapped in the face, but it’s really not him either. Though he’s really trapped in an impossible situation, it’s the mayor. 

If he plays it safe and keeps the beaches closed, the economy of Amity will completely tank and the mayor will be vilified in the court of public opinion.

If, in the face of a known danger, the mayor opens the beaches, he risks a shark attack that will cause him to be vilified in the court of public opinion.

What’s the right decision? None of the above.

What’s the best decision? It depends.

And therein lies a powerful lesson for leaders. Unlike episodes of Barney in which situations have a clearly defined right and wrong response, life is much more complicated and we often have to make decisions based on what we determine to be the least awful option.

When helping my team with difficult decisions, I like to use the analogy that you can’t turn right and left at the same time. Leaders can’t do nothing. Regardless of whether there is reasonable hope of achieving the desired outcome, you have to do something.

In educational leadership, as in most other fields, we work with myriad stakeholder groups and often have to consider that any significant decision is going to displease someone. I generally apply the principle of thirds, which dictates that whatever you do, ⅓ of the audience will likely support it, ⅓ will probably oppose it and then there will be a middle ⅓ that will ultimately determine the popularity rating of the decision.

That principle helps relieve some tension as you have to accept that whatever you do, your decision will make someone unhappy. That’s the constant. The variable comes back to your capacity and judgment, which you have to trust. 

Acceptance is enormously helpful with the worst part of the school superintendent job, at least in the Northeast: making snow day calls. Call it the night before and people appreciate the courtesy, unless the forecast shifts and you’re wrong. Wait until 4:30 in the morning and people appreciate the precision, unless you have to delay or cancel and then you’re an inconsiderate jerk who left people in a lurch trying to find childcare. The least awful approach is to follow your gut based on circumstances, take decisive action and then avoid all social media for the ensuing 24-36 hours.

No matter your leadership role, whether as a teacher, parent, principal, assistant to the regional manager or otherwise, you will be forced to make unfun decisions that will leave you wondering if you even agree with yourself. 

Keep in mind the virtue of a true dilemma, which logicians conceptualize as a situation in which you will be gored by a goat’s horn and have to choose which. You can pick the right one or the left. You cannot, however, choose whether to get gored. It’s going to happen. Both choices are equally lousy, but inaction is still not an option.

Make the decision and stand by it. Just be careful with any “the beaches are open and everyone is having a wonderful time” rhetoric. That hollow optimism tends to age like milk in the sun.

Carry Your Backpack: In Support of Independence

Posted on by MichaelPortas

“Helping is not always helping.” -Family adage shared by a very smart friend

I don’t spend a lot of time in the produce section, but an impromptu exchange on Sunday got me thinking. A young father asked “Why should I have to push her doll around in the cart? She can carry her own toy.” He was being funny but also serious and another guy his age turned from the cucumbers and added “Yeah, and why don’t kids have to carry their own backpacks anymore?”

I listened quietly while I finished making my selection and then told them as I walked by, “My father would still be laughing at me if I ever asked him to carry my backpack.”

So does it really matter if kids carry their own backpacks?

Actually, yes. Yes it does.

On a literal level, it forces kids to learn not to pack more than they can carry. There’s a pretty good metaphor in there as well. 

Also on that literal level, you deprive kids from building strength when you take away the burdens they can manage. Yes, that’s metaphoric as well.

This principle carries over from parenting to the management world where we sometimes have to remind ourselves not to solve other people’s problems. We might be helping them, and likely ourselves, in the short run, but we’re essentially disabling them in the long run by forcing them to depend on us to act for them. Eventually we won’t be there for them – then what?

Back to the education world, as a high school English teacher, I provided feedback to my students on their essays, which I fully expected they would revise. Sometimes students would see me about the comment “Unclear phrasing” and ask me what they should do. My response was “Make it clear.” They did not love that answer but usually understood that I wanted them to figure it out, maybe struggle with the language before finding that just right diction or syntax.

Struggle builds strength. It’s true for weightlifters. It’s true for staff members. It’s true for writers. And it’s true for young backpack carriers. Each of those three groups has a supporter in a leadership role, whether it’s a spotter, supervisor, editor/teacher or parent, all of whom are close enough that they can jump in if needed, but far enough away to allow growth to occur.

When we carry people’s backpacks for them, we do so from a position of caring and good intentions. But if we want to give the gift of independence, maybe it’s best if they figure out how to manage the burden themselves.