Weighty Expectations

It's ok to quit. It's ok to stop doing something that others have come to expect you to do. It's ok to change your mind, to have second thoughts. It's ok to say no.

I'm saying this after a week of observing largely well intentioned challenges and directives to make resolutions and set goals. In addition to these "New Year's" challenges, many individuals are already struggling under the enormous pressure of maintaining expectations that they established in previous years. The weight of others' expectations, intermixed with our own self imposed standards, can be suffocating. Debilitating even.  

We are so incredibly hard on ourselves.

I'm not suggesting that goal setting and establishing high expectations, both for ourselves and for others, is not a valuable and necessary exercise. Although I'm not a big fan of New Year's resolutions, I am a firm believer in taking on new challenges and opportunities, of finding your "edge" and pushing beyond it... But sometimes the weight of either self imposed or external expectations can make it difficult, almost impossible, to change our current trajectory, to re-evaluate, re-assess and forge a new trail. 

I see the impact of these weighty expectations not only on my family, friends and colleagues, but on the students in my school community. With anxiety and mental health issues on the rise, how are our expectations of our students' contributing to this trend? Are our students forging their own paths to success, or simply following a route that others have mapped out for them? Are they pursuing interests and passions that fulfil their purpose and goal, or are they obediently complying with others' expectations of what they should be? 

In the end, I truly believe it's about finding a balance...allowing ourselves to be inspired, motivated and challenged by others, but also giving ourselves permission to shift course, to forge a new path in unexpected and uncertain directions. 

I'm still working to find that balance and although I have more questions than answers, I'm pretty sure it's not something that can be encapsulated in a New Year's resolution or accomplished within the timespan of the year. So I'm giving myself (and others) permission to take their time, to make mistakes, to risk disappointment and even failure. Because some of my most incredible and rewarding opportunities have come to me "by mistake". 

So, here's to more questions than answers, to the journey ahead, to a year filled with possibility and potential... 

Happy New Year. :)

Leading NOW

Our quiet leaders. 

Earlier this week I was fortunate to be able to attend a school board meeting where two groups of students presented to trustees on diverse and important issues. Under fairly intimidating circumstances, these students were poised, passionate and articulate. I was incredibly proud. But at one point in the evening, I heard someone say to one of the younger students who presented, "You will be a fine leader one day." And it struck me- this student wouldn't just be a fine leader "one day". They were leading now.

In my own school community, there are numerous examples of student leaders. Although it's often the students in more formal roles like Student Council that are recognized as leaders, I see students leading every single day.

They lead by holding the door open for another student. They lead by volunteering to set out chairs for an assembly. They lead by picking up garbage in the hallway. They lead by being kind to a new student. They lead by example. So as much as I'm incredibly proud of our students who organize our clubs and lead our ceremonies, I'm equally as proud of our quiet leaders. They are not just preparing to be the leaders of tomorrow...They are leading now.

Not just future leaders. Leading NOW. 

In the End, No One Really Cares

The other day, I told a student that I didn't care if he failed. I'm sure he thought I was crazy. And likely the counsellor who was sitting in on the conversation was thinking the same thing. To her credit, she didn't say it out loud.

The student that I was speaking to had been missing classes. In the first month and a half of classes, he'd probably missed more than he'd attended. As a result of this, and several other factors, he was failing all of his classes. One of which he was repeating for the second time. He had come to school on this day, late, but he'd come. Perhaps as a result of the conversation that I'd had with his mom the day before. To be honest, I was just so happy to see him, all I could do initially was grin at him. Thus the, "this woman is crazy" look on his face...

As we waited for his counsellor to join us, I asked him what his favourite thing was about school. He stared at me blankly, and then slowly began to shake his head from side to side. He didn't know. He couldn't think of anything. Although I maintained my smile, inside my heart was sinking. A month a half into school, and there wasn't a single thing that this student could think of that he liked so far. But after a minute or two of gentle probing, he finally thought of something. He liked cooking. Awesome.

In attempt to put him at ease a bit, I began to tell him a little about myself. I'm new to the school, and so I'm meeting many of our 1200 students for the first time. I shared that I'd struggled in school myself, that I'd also failed classes. His eyes widened. I told him that when I'd interviewed for my current position, no one had asked me when I'd learned how to read (grade 2), how many times I'd failed math (twice), or how many awards I'd won (one, in grade 8 Band- thank you Mr. Green). They didn't care about any of that stuff. They just cared about where I was now.

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As the counsellor entered, our conversation continued. I told him that "success" might look a little bit different for him. It might take him a few more times through a course, an extra year in high school, some additional support through it all. And I also told him that I didn't care if he failed a class. I just wanted him to come. That we would worry about the whole "passing" thing a little later on...

As we set out a plan for the following week, one that includes him stopping by in the mornings to say hi to me before he sets off for class, I reminded him that five, ten years from now, no one would really care where he'd started out...they would just care where he finished. I'm not sure if he believed me. He probably still thinks I'm a bit crazy. But as long as I get to say hi to him every single morning next week, I'm ok with that...

My one & only. Thank you Mr. Green. 

Our Stories Are Important

Our stories are important. They form the essence of who we are, and of who we hope to become. And it is through sharing our stories that we learn, we connect and we grow. In fact, I would suggest that it's through stories that we learn best.

This past weekend, I had the remarkable privilege of being able to share a little of my story with an incredibly receptive and warm group of individuals at TEDxWestVancouverED. The opportunity to share my voice, my story, with others was an amazingly empowering experience- a privilege in every sense of the word.

But in the midst of this amazing experience, I couldn't help but think of those individuals in my school community who might not have an opportunity to be heard, whose voices are marginalized or stifled. I thought of the students who struggle with mental health issues, students whose voices might be silenced by overwhelming fear and anxiety. I thought of the families for whom schools can be an intimidating place, perhaps associated with unpleasant memories or experiences.

And so I am mindful of my privileged position- not only do I have an opportunity to share my story, but I have the responsibility, the privilege, to help empower others to share theirs as well...

Photo courtesy of  Rose Pillay