We can find margins in many aspects of our lives. Data margins. Betting margins. Printer margins. Balance margins. We account for lack of accuracy, lack of time, and lack of space by referencing these margins. Margins bail us out. Margins mask our mistakes. And now, margins may protect our sanity.

With a world full of margins, why don’t we also add these margins to our hours, our days, or our weekends? In ‘Busyness & The Lack of Margin in Our Lives’ (2018), Paul White notes:

“The concept of “margin” is based on the premise that it is wise to leave space in our lives to deal with the unexpected or unplanned events that may arise. This is in contrast with our tendency to pack our schedule full, or (as some people frame it) to “make the most of our time.”

Last weekend, my husband and I were making plans to go fishing. Well, one of us was…. I wanted to sit on the river and think of nothing but monster catfish. Josh, on the other hand, wanted to stay in the air conditioning and think of nothing but binge Outdoor channels. So I had a plan: we would watch TV until about 4 pm, then hit the river by 5:30. Genius!

My husband’s response to this: ‘Why do you have to plan everything and take the fun out of the day?!’ The only thing I hate more than Outdoor channels… my husband being right.

For those of you who are avid readers, you may remember my New Year’s Resolution. One word: INVEST. So far, I’ve invested in health, marriage, and career. After this weekend, and White’s article, I have a new investment opportunity: margins.

This summer, I will invest in required margins. Margins for fun. Margins for unpredictable. Margins for amazing. I will withdrawal from my Google calendar craze and instead invest in the unknown. Invest in the unexpected. Invest in… life.

Speaking of life, the fish I caught last weekend was about 25 pounds… according to fisherman’s margins.

I’m not old.

I’m not young… but I’m not old, either. However, I’m certainly of a different generation than our current student populations. I can still remember when…

Spice Girls were more popular than iPhones.

TMI meant more than LOL.

Lunchables wouldn’t have been traded for McDonalds.

Beyond music, technology, and food, today’s average student faces a very different environment than the fifteen-year-old version of myself battled on a daily basis in a rural, white school in Minnesota.

Tom Krebs (‘Capitol Chatter’, March 26, 2018) reminded me of this generation gap when he wrote earlier this week:

‘So how many of you think teenagers today have an easier go of things than you did? Don’t raise your hands all at once.

Think of all the current issues that affect today’s youth that weren’t even on the radar. School shootings? Nope. Cyber bullying? Nada. Fears of deportation. Relatively unlikely. Massive student debt for those college-bound?...

And those don’t even touch the challenges of puberty/adolescence. Any doubt about what your prom date would look like? Opposite sex dressed as such. Any questions about who was in the bathroom? Who might be attempting to pin you on the wrestling mat? The attractiveness/popularity of prom royalty? No, no, and no.’

I can’t even begin to understand all of the challenges facing our students. And I can’t pretend to relate with these challenging situations.

What I can do is remember what it felt like to be confused. What it felt like to be invisible. What it felt like to feel under appreciated. And what it felt like to be… not old. As our society, our laws, and even our schools struggle to keep up with changing generations, one thing stays consistent. Students want, and have always wanted, someone to care. Someone to listen. Someone to have their back. And someone who will occasionally say, ‘Remember when…’

Lost by the Spice Girls reference? Visit this site for a flashback:

https://youtu.be/gJLIiF15wjQ

Intrigued by Tom Krebs’ article? Visit this site for the full version:

https://mailchi.mp/usakansas.org/capitol-chatter-835637?e=c73ddc28be

I have not set two alarms in seven days. I have not walked the dog in six days. I have not cleaned in five days. I have not been on the treadmill in four days. And I have not changed my KU sweatshirt since the well deserved Trae Young take down three days ago.

I am a creature of habit. Part of this comes from growing up on a dairy farm; every day and every night the cows got milked, the calves got fed, and the milk laundry got washed. The other part of my habitual tendencies comes from being a hockey athlete; every morning and every afternoon ice drills were run, weights were lifted, and penalty plays were rehearsed. I am a creature of habit… as long as that habit is structure.

Without structure, I reside in an under-timed, under-cleaned, under-exercised, and under fashioned environment. It wasn’t even fire that destroyed these habits; this time, the ice did me in. As we skate away from Mother Nature’s latest gift, we find ourselves returning to familiar, necessary structures.

Education data has long since shown that familiar structures and clear procedures increase student engagement, learning, and safety on a daily basis. Students feel comfortable in predicable environments; this comfort is key to education. When students return to our building after a long break, structures and procedures will be at the forefront. Reminders about CHAMPS expectations, positive behaviors, and classroom management will be constants in most of our conversations. But are these structures and procedures only beneficial to the students in the building? My dog, and my dishwasher, would say no. For adults, these structures and procedures also increase staff participation, achievement goals, and security on a daily basis. Staff feel proficient in predicable environments; this proficiency is key to teaching.

In the end, these structures and procedures benefit the students and teachers alike. Just because it’s predictable doesn’t mean it can’t be exciting. Quite the contrary; I am excited to return to the building. I am excited to interact with students. I am excited to see staff members. And I am excited to change my sweatshirt.

Ah… a New Year… With New Plans… And New Resolutions?

While the year has changed, the likelihood of our New Year resolutions failing has not been altered. Business Insider (2017) reports that by the second week in February, more than 80% of our New Year’s resolutions have already resulted in epic failure. And by July of that same year, most of us have long forgotten the promises we made under the light of a falling ball.

About three years ago, my vicious cycle of promises broken at the start of each new year came to an abrupt end; a friend gave me a copy of ‘One Word Will Change Your Life’ from Jon Gordon. In the book, Jon cautions that we lose focus with long winded, written out resolutions. To make real change, we need laser like focus. And this focus starts with ditching the sentences… and picking just one word.

So my past three resolutions have each been just one word:

2015- INSPIRE

2016- GROW

2017- GRIT

Each word has been posted in my home, my office, and even my car. And this year will be no different. My 2018 word of the year is…. INVEST.

In 2018, I choose to “devote my time, effort, or energy to a particular undertaking with the expectation of a worthwhile result” (Webster, 2017). I will invest in my marriage, invest in my professional development, invest in my health, invest in my students and staff, invest in my financial future, invest in my faith. I choose to make deposits and devote to myself and those around me. I choose to INVEST.

What makes the #oneword revolution so effective (and so popular right now on Twitter) is that while I chose one word, the way in which I achieve this word can vary each and every day for the entirety of a full year. Today I invest in my marriage by cooking dinner, tomorrow I invest by going for a walk with my husband, and next week I invest by writing him a cute note. The means change- but the intention stays the same.

This drastic edit (coincidently, ‘edit’ was almost my 2018 word) to the way I approach New Years and broken resolutions has resulted in a perfect 3-0 resolution success rate. When I INVEST this year, I’ll be a four-peat Resolution Champion. Which technically makes me more successful than the NY Yankees, LA Lakers, and Montreal Canadiens…. Technically. And this also means there is one word I will never resolve to do… Fail.

This year, our staff participated in a book study of ‘The 5 Languages of Appreciation in the Workplace’. Inspired by the book, I have received monthly blog updates by the author, Dr. Paul White. This month, the article featured a unique tree:

“Black walnut trees produce a toxic substance called juglone. This toxin inhibits germination and growth of surrounding plants. The toxin can even kill certain plant species…the damage to surrounding plants depends on their maturity and plant type. For more woody trees, younger, tender growth is distorted and suffers from many ailments. For more mature trees, effects of the toxin are much more subtle, the tree wilts, declines, and eventually dies. The Black Walnut tree wants to be left alone, it does not want to contribute to the surrounding ecosystem.”

As I read this article, I was transformed back to a northern field in Minnesota. When my brother and I were farming, we would sometimes stop on the edge of one special field and pick up a pocketful of walnuts. Later, we would run around and throw them at each other. I can still remember the sting of the hard walnut hitting me!

These childhood memories faded as thoughts of schoolwork filled my head. As the semester concludes, we hustle to complete a list of tasks and duties. We muscle through paperwork and meetings. And we struggle to find enough hours. At the end of each day, we feel accomplished because of our high performances.

But are we becoming a forest of black walnut trees? While each of us thrives, how can we be sure that as a collective we are making the forest a better place?

For me, a personal goal to focus more on what we need to achieve, rather than on what I have accomplished, is a good starting point. As a member of a larger forest, this commitment to teamwork and a collective vision will help to make sure myself, and everyone around me, gets enough sunshine.

Traditionally, teams cannot survive around a ‘black walnut’ member for very long. But even if they could, why would they want to?

Individual achievement deserves recognition. However, continued individual accomplishment will not guarantee a stronger team. As a leader, it is important to recognize those around me who accomplish great things. But these great things should be characterized based on how they positively impact the whole team… the whole vision.

Black walnut trees can stand tall and proud. But they are destined to stand alone.

Growing up on a dairy farm, it was rare for my family to sit down for a meal. In fact, holidays were the few times that we were all together to break bread. In contrast, my husband grew up in a household with an amazing stay at home mother who prepared a family meal each night for all members to enjoy.

When our two households merged, we found we had very different opinions on the importance of a shared meal. To compromise, we eat at least half of our meals together throughout the week. And if you read last month’s blog, you already know who does most of the cooking.

Meal after meal, we would discuss our day and activities. Many times, the long winded questions would result in one word answers: ‘How was your day at work?’…. followed by ‘Good’. ‘Did you have fun fishing today?’… followed by ‘Yep’. ‘What should we do this weekend?’… followed by ‘I don’t know.’

I imagine many of our students having these same discussions at home: ‘How was your day at school?’… followed by “Good’. ‘Do you have homework tonight?’… followed by ‘Yep’. ‘What did you do at practice today?’… followed by ‘I don’t know.’

Meal after meal, these questions and answers would be passed around like salt. One night, this conversation ended with an argument about my lack of communication. After reflecting, I told my husband, ‘The answers aren’t the problem, it’s the questions!’ From this point forward, my husband and I play the ‘Tell Me Something That…’ game at the dinner table.

‘Tell me something that… was hilarious!’

‘Tell me something that… frustrated you.’

‘Tell me something that… made you smile!’

We ask pointed, specific questions about the day’s activities. Our answers, and follow up conversations, have become much more meaningful. I even find myself using this approach when communicating with staff and students:

‘Tell me something that… you would have done differently?’

‘Tell me something that… I can do to help you.’

Last week, we played this game at the Thanksgiving table. It was enjoyable to hear the answers from my in-laws and young niece: pandas make her smile and she thought the deer decorations falling over in the yard was hilarious! As I washed my pie plate, I thought… something that has forever changed the way I communicate - this game.