If someone describes themselves as honest, are they telling the truth?

My gut reaction says, “um, no.” Whenever I hear someone boast about their straight-shooting honest, I immediately suspect they are trying to sell me on something. With an unfortunate level of frequency, my suspicion is correct.

In other words, I find it easier to trust someone who is less-than confident about their honesty. The most honest people I know wouldn’t describe themselves as honest, mostly because they are honest enough to be mindful of the times they aren’t completely genuine.

The same goes for a whole slew of other character traits. Truly talented people are aware of their gaps. Really intelligent people don’t need to talk about being smart all the time. Same goes with folks claiming insight, discernment, and intuitiveness.

I think most people who advertise their character traits like this are insecure, trying to project their desired personality instead of their authentic self. They are arguably uncomfortable with themselves. I try not to judge but I totally judge. At least certain people; the ones who bulldoze others with their toxic positivity and flowery, self-promoting language.

People are messy and that’s okay. I understand why someone would want to hide their flaws - I know I try to! – but I don’t understand why so many people prefer the image of perfection and integrity. Real people are so much more interesting. Including the people wearing the masks.

 I am not very good at promoting myself. Not an attention-seeker in general, I find it challenging to “sell” my skills and abilities to others. It’s not about lack of confidence (although, honestly, sometimes that is a factor), it’s more that I have no desire to charm or woo people into giving me a chance.

I’ve been looking for a 2nd job, and a lot of that is coming up with the best language to display my skills and experience. As with past job searches, I get more responses from actual humans as opposed to the bots that screen for key words. I don’t do buzzwords well. I get that it’s part of the job-search game, but sometimes relying on catch phrases feels like downplaying my actual experience.

For example, many “resume tips for teachers” include direct references to classroom management. On my resume, I don’t mention classroom management. Instead I talk about the variety of labs and learning experiences I carried out, the diversity of my students, and collaboration with colleagues and parents. None of that could happen without solid management skills. Since any reasonable human connect to education understands that, it feels like a waste of space to add another line.

Maybe I’m being a snob, but I don’t really want to work someplace that requires me to prove basic knowledge while ignoring my more advanced understanding.

Continued thoughts on Experience Deniers

I think one of the few things people agree upon these days is that our educational system is full of flaws. However, the opinions on how to fix it are too numerous to count. Everyone has experience attending school, therefore, they have the experience necessary to know how a school should work, right?

Wrong. 

​There is a lot that happens within a school that students and parents are unable to see. The same is true for any organization. Eating at a restaurant every day is very different that managing one. Until you are on the inside, a lot of systems and nuance are hidden. A lot judgements and complaints are a result of not understanding this.

​One memorable night, about nine or ten years ago, I witnessed this judgement in action. I was hanging out with a group of people I met with regularly. It is important to note that everyone in this group was highly educated. Lots of advanced degrees, mostly in the medical field. They are also strong advocates for education and addressing disparities.

That evening I told a story about my students and mentioned, Shrimpy, the 2 meter tall alien crustacean my students would occasionally explain earthly concepts to. I don't remember what story I was trying to tell, but I do know Shrimpy was incidental context. However, most of the group became fixated upon Shrimpy in a what-the-hell kind of way. They thought having seventh graders write letters to an alien was ridiculous and stupid. 

I was surprised at their intense reaction. Fanciful things like Shrimpy were a normal part of my day. Another member of the group, a man who taught fifth grade, agreed with me. When kids' imaginations are engaged, you go with it. They'll put a lot more effort into explaining a tricky concept to a fictitious alien than they will for a generic "support your answer."

Despite the support of my fellow educator, the majority of the group couldn't get past it. One person in particular was especially derisive as she kept repeating, "I just don't get it."

And they were absolutely right, they didn't get it. Despite the countless hours they'd spent in school, the had no concept of what it's like trying to capture the attention of a classroom full of students. As a result, something that was simple and commonplace for me as a teacher was ridiculed.

This incident in and of itself was minor. At the same time, it highlights a larger issue. They fell into the trap of I-don't-understand-this-therefore-it-must-be-wrong. Even when two educators explained that this seemingly silly method was common and useful, they couldn't let go of their initial indignation.

So, yeah, they didn't get it. And that's okay. It's not possible to understand all the nuances of a position you've never held. The problem was that they deemed Shrimpy as stupid and refused to consider the usefulness. Being well-schooled themselves, they assumed they knew everything that a learning environment involved. Their memories of school trumped my reality.

Ironically, Shrimpy was born while trying to address the exact same refusal-to-learn attitude in my science students.

Back in March I talked a bit about my intention to complete a 50k. Well, that's officially happening the first Saturday in November at the Screaming Monkey 100 - 50k!

Yayyyy!!!!

The race is a little south of Shreveport and called the Screaming Monkey because the trails go past a chimpanzee sanctuary. Yes, chimps are apes, not monkeys, but my inner nerd get over that. Also, in past years, the route used to go through the grounds of an abandoned prison. I am sorry that is no longer the case. Ghosts of former inmates would be a good motivator...

My training plan is more-or-less what I outlined in that previous post, just a little more nailed down. One really helpful surprise was in an email from the race director. He recommended a trail system near where I live with a similar terrain as the route. I'd never heard of it, and it's not on Gaia GPS (my faithful trail app), so this was a boon. I checked it out with my brother earlier this week. I was thrilled to see that it's rugged enough to be interesting, but not nearly as steep, crumbly, or ankle-breaking as many of the trails in the Ouachitas and Ozarks. 

Yesterday I went on a 4.5 hour, 14.5 mile hike around Hot Springs National Park. I ran a bit, but most tried to keep up a fast walk. I had a couple moments of reflux and fuzziness, but recovered quick enough. The low point was when I thought I was almost done, only to find my way blocked and having to backtrack. Blerg. 

Aside from a bit of stiffness, I feel good today. This is exciting! I think I'm actually going to be able to do this!!

I spent June and July coordinating a theatre camp as part of my job with Cage Free Voices. Despite being a small camp, it was a really big deal.

To begin with, it was the first real leadership responsibility that my boss, Bathsheba, entrusted me with. The company is her baby, her vision. She's done all the foundational work. It was an honor to carry on that torch.

Secondly, this was the first project I've coordinated since leaving teaching. Yes, I participated in other projects, but not in this capacity, and not one with quite so many moving pieces. It's the kind of work I want to do and I am good at it. I'm ready to do more.

Since beginning May, this experience included a lot of firsts. First time conducting job interviews and hiring an instructor. First time talking logistics with an orginazation as renowned as the Kennedy Center. First time reaching out to friends I've haven't spoken to in decades in order to ask for help.  First time overseeing a final workshop that featured locals and internationals, in-person and virtual. First time taking a business trip.

I learned a lot.

The camp almost didn't happen. It was set to start July 11. On July 8, we had no campers. In all our recruiting conversations, we were met with a high degree of interest, and very low commitment. We understood. People are tired this summer and need to slow down. At the same time, I really wanted honor this opportunity.

Fortunately, after many pivots and creative adjustments, things came together. Our instructor, Amna, was amazingly understanding throughout all the ups, downs, and resulting changes. Unfailingly, Bathsheba would be struck with inspiration in the same moment that my ideas had run out. The Kennedy Center remained supportive; it seems everyone is experiencing a similar lethargy. 

The final preview looked nothing like the orginal vision, but quite a few people, both kids and adults, stretched themselves in unexpected ways. It was beautiful.
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My greatest takeaway was seeing the good things that can happen when you are able to trust the people around you. When you can let go and make plans that allow room for life. Watching Amna apply her positive, theater-trained, "yes, and" attitude to our practical problems was everything I ever wanted from a colleague. I've worked in several toxic, rush-rush settings and it was encouraging to see a different environment. It felt good to know I played a role in creating it. 
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