Mindfully Finding the Good Things

Sometimes I miss working outside.

When I was in college, I had a great outside job working for a cable construction company.  If I wasn’t climbing telephone poles and snagging ping pong ball sized blackberries in the process, I was a ditch digger.  I was a 20 year old grunt hand digging around the copper water pipes servicing a home.

Everyday we’d show up to a new neighborhood, the remnants of yesterday’s concrete saw cutting the advanced warning we were coming.  We’d tear up the street, loud and messy, opening a trench uniform in width and depth exposing roots, rock and rubble, a snaking curbside incision.  At the end of the day we’d fill it back up with conduit and rock and I’d sweep it clean, always leaving it tidier than I found it.  It was hard work, like arm-numbing, barely-hold-my-coffee-in-the-morning type hard work.  And every day I went home knowing I had accomplished something.  Physically my body reassured me I had done work, but the work site preached it as well with its clean gutters and newly raked flowerbeds.  We took the time to marvel at our work each afternoon during Bill the backhoe driver’s final smoke break of the day.

 

When I think of schools, we don’t really have that same level of easily detectible clarity and precision when it comes to accomplishment.  We may get through one more day or one more lesson or unit, but it is hard to find that same kind of palpable progress that I found every day outside.  Kids busily rush about on campus cycling between specials or centers or classes and lunch, learning at different speeds, always coming back the next day for more.  Sure there is a break for Christmas or spring, but that is more an acknowledgement that we made it half way or more which is not the same thing as we made a difference.  There is a routine, a repetition that makes it feel like an endless stream carrying us through 180 days of instruction, on and on and on.

But it doesn’t have to feel that way.

Progress and accomplishment are everywhere, but it takes being mindful in searching for it in order to recognize it.  We don’t need more progress; we need more mindfulness to find it.  There’s always another day, another lesson, another obligation dragging our attention away from what is right before us, so unless we deliberately focus on looking for it, we are bound to keep missing it.  And we NEED to find it – because with accomplishment and progress comes pride, motivation, joy.  It builds us up and helps us persist when times get tough.  It is as good for kids as it is for teachers, which is why it is crucial that we make the time to find and rejoice in our successes.

So today teachers, make a point to celebrate your students.  At the risk of sounding like I’m advocating for one more thing on your already busy plate, I encourage you to turn your attention, your mindfulness to looking specifically for the good things in your classroom.

Find that kid who totally hit it out of the park this week, or maybe just for today, and let her know how her effort paid off. Find the boy who may not have crushed the assignment but who made meaningful progress, his effort getting him closer to the goal in some small way. Recognizing that effort will foster his growth mindset and push him to continue working hard.  And don’t forget about the precious quiet one about to slip through the crack.  Grab her hand, hold it gently and reassure her it isn’t going to happen. Help her believe that she’s not finished and that together you’ll cross that finish line.

Leaders should do the same thing.  Practice your mindfulness and find the good things on your campus.

When students are acting in ways that would awe the public because of their maturity or thoughtfulness or generosity or brains, stop and tell them they make you happy.  And proud.  And then tell them thank you.  Go find a teacher who is doing something novel or new, and take the time to honor that courage. Have a dialogue. Ask how it’s going, what positive impact is anticipated and how you can support it. Is there a hard working staff member that you too often walk by without taking 30 seconds to say hi and ask how are you? If so, give the gift of time to that someone and connect.  A drive-by high five works wonders.

We have to make time and carve out our opportunities to see and celebrate success.  We don’t have clean or newly landscaped curb lines to signal a job done well or to show the progress for our hard work.  Consequently, amidst the busy and the blur, we need to be more mindful about finding the good things and make the most of them.

I miss working outside like I did in college, but thanks to the magic I am getting better about  seeing every day in what I do, I hope to never miss out on noticing and sharing that with kids, my friends and my colleagues.