Thursday, October 11, 2012

Ryder Lessons on Failure


My last post talked about the Ryder Cup and how Canadians fit into it. But of course the most captivating part of the competition was “The Collapse”. It featured the largest comeback in Ryder Cup history. Two-thirds of the way through Saturday, the US was ahead by six points, with a score of 10-4 (the US needed 14.5 points to win.) In the last two matches of Saturday and over the final day, the Europeans outscored their opponents 10.5 to 3.5, thereby retaining the Cup.
It was euphoric for the champions and left the losers devastated in a way that compares to no other kind of loss. It reminded me these epic collapses:
·         Houston Oilers ’92 AFC championship against the Buffalo Bills when they lost in overtime after being up 35-3 in the 3rd quarter. I was transfixed by that game.

·         Greg Norman’s ’99 Masters loss to Nick Faldo despite a seemingly insurmountable 6 stroke lead to start the final round

·         Lindsay Jacobellis’ “hot dog” fall as she was about to win ’06 Olympic Gold for snowboard cross – was it poetic justice? (She still won a silver)

·         ’78 Bosox
And the almost unmentionably tragic:

·         Jana Novatna’s ’93 Wimbledon Final vs. Steffi Graf
Like many, I was completely fixated on Steve Stricker, who both lost the final points to secure Europe’s victory and who also didn’t win a point all weekend. More than anyone, he wears the “goat horns” for Team USA. (Interestingly, Tiger managed to tie the last match of the competition, giving him only a half point for the weekend, and Hanson was shut out for Team Europe.) It was hard not to feel deep sympathy for Stricker, whose combination of frustration/guilt/sadness was apparent.
The whole thing made for great TV, but I wonder what it means for teenagers? Some thoughts …
1.       Malcolm Gladwell’s fabulous collection of essays “What the Dog Saw and other Adventures” has a piece on why some people choke and others panic. When I saw the Ryder collapse, it made me think of Gladwell’s piece – a thought-provoking and enjoyable read that gives me some insight into my own athletic downfalls. It is an engaging piece for student-athletes and their coaches.


2.       How we treat the “Losers” says a great deal about a school community. Watching what happened at the Ryder Cup, I wondered how many people were loading on the bandwagon in a celebratory haze, how many were deep into their own Schadenfreude, and how many were feeling sympathetic for Stricker? Celebrating victory is easy and natural. It’s how we deal with defeat – either our own or those around us – that tells us more about character. Empathy, sympathy, resilience, and the ability to reflect and then adapt are all critical attributes for people who wish to lead. How we develop these characteristics in our young men and women should be a hallmark of great education. The most challenging part of that is that the strongest forge of these skills is the fire of adversity.

The Ryder, Walker and Canada


Those of us who saw the 2012 Ryder Cup felt that we were watching an epic sports event – one of the greatest turnarounds in golf history. For those who don’t follow golf, it’s the annual team competition between the best American golfers and the best golfers from Europe. It gets patriotic juices flowing on both sides, resulting in cheering, flag-waving and screaming that often runs completely counter to golf tradition and etiquette. It is more “Happy Gilmour” than Augusta – and golf aficionados are divided on the merits of the Ryder Cup scene.
Before “The Collapse”, I was thinking about how Canadians align with the Ryder Cup teams. We are very much split – with some passionately supportive of the Americans, some for the Europeans, and some who just like the competition. This likely reflects the complexity of the Canadian psyche – some of us see Americans as another version of ourselves, some feel a stronger bond to the “old country” (whatever it is), and some relate to Americans like an older, brasher, more successful sibling. And of course, at the core, this has little to do Americans and everything to do with how we see ourselves.

It’s interesting how this has changed over the last century, since Appleby was started by one of Canada’s most famous economic and cultural protectionists of his era, Sir Edmund Walker. Sir Edmund, who co-founded Appleby with his son-in-law and first Headmaster, John Guest, was one of the great Canadians of his time. In addition to building the Canadian Bank of Commerce into a national power, he also was central in the redesign of the Canadian banking system, and the creation of bodies that would become the Art Gallery of Ontario, the Royal Ontario Museum and the federation of colleges now called the University of Toronto. He had many other equally as impressive achievements. Walker was a central figure in the campaign against Laurier’s free trade proposal with the US, which led to his election loss. Sir Edmund saw "Canadianism" as a function of our role in British Imperialism and not at all linked to the US.

As adults, we are often faced with the question of how to honour our parents, family and community roots, while also staying true to our own beliefs, which sometimes contradict those of our ancestors. I found Michael Ignatieff’s True Patriot Love a terrific account of how he sees Canada in the context of his mother’s family – the famous Grants. For teenagers, especially those who are brimming with idealism, that tension is often felt to a far greater degree. Creativity and innovation, be it for science or the arts or sports or business, is only possible through the ability to question and imagine differently. That is part of what be subscribe to at Appleby, but there is often a trade-off. How do we help our students broker that tension between where they have come from, and where they see the future?

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Pats & Pushes


Recently, I had the pleasure to talk with the parents of an Appleby alumnus about his experience here. In his first year, he was having a difficult time adjusting to the school. Although a talented student and athlete, his attitude caused issues with his peers and he had an unacceptable incident of publically disrespecting a teacher. His actions could and perhaps should have spelled the end of his tenure at Appleby. To his credit and that of his parents, who encouraged him to face his failure and take responsibility, the student stepped up to his actions and tried to make it right. Of course, the damage was done. The big question the faculty member (and the school) faced was the extent of the discipline. Was it a “third rail” offense or something less but still significant?
The student ended up having to face painful consequences, but they were less than what they could have been. There was lots of context to the situation that I won’t go into, but the part of the story that made my nerves tingle was when his parents said that the teacher in question eventually went up to the boy shook his hand, re-introduced himself, and said, “Let’s start this again.”
It reminded me of a conversation with another fellow who was reflecting on his most influential teachers from 35 years before. He told me about an English teacher who refused to give him a final mark until, after his final exams had been written and his Grade 13 year was completed, the student re-wrote his major paper. His previous version was adequate, but the teacher felt that he could do much better. While this boy was trying to pack up and prepare to head home to Hong Kong, he was being penalized for the infraction of not putting in enough effort in a course. (Not an unknown sin to me!) He worked hard on the re-write and ended up with a first class mark. For the 35 years since that incident, that graduate has felt indebted to the teacher and credits him with both establishing strong communication skills, as well as developing a drive to aim higher.   
In both cases, the alumni look back on these occasions as life-changing in positive ways. But the differences are significant. In the first case, the faculty member gave (figuratively speaking) a pat on the back – a partial second chance. In the latter, the teacher gave a figurative push – requiring him to do more than his peers. I think both are examples of great teaching and coaching. As educators, we are often under immense pressure to give the “pat” when the “push” is the right decision, and would have better long term impact on the student. The decisions of when to pat and when to push are often the most difficult and most impactful that we make.
One of the most significant challenges that educators and parents face today is, in the words of Dr. Alex Russell, how to allow students to address and respond courageously to non-catastrophic failures, including facing what are sometimes very difficult consequences. Because if they can’t do it when they are 16, they will not be able to at age 26, or 41 or 56, when the stakes are higher and sometimes catastrophic.
I would love to hear stories from Appleby alumni and their parents about the “pats” and the “pushes” you had here, because they say much about our heritage and about growing-up.
 

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Welcome


Welcome to my blog. I hope that you find it thought-provoking and sometimes amusing (in the “with me” rather than “at me” sense.)

So many sectors have changed so much over the last decade. Companies that were iconic world leaders just a decade ago are no longer around (or at least not at the scale they used to be), and the lists of the most powerful, the wealthiest and the most influential people seem to have a remarkably short half-life. I just took a look at the Forbes wealthiest people list, and only knew five of the top 10.

What does that mean for us at Appleby? We talk a great deal about developing innovation, adaptability and resiliency in our children. But, of course, it is equally important for us as a school to share and model those same traits. I feel most fortunate coming to Appleby at this time because there is probably no better place to engage in those discussions than right here.

I am really impressed by colleagues and by the students – and people are a school’s number one lever towards greatness. The school is known for its innovation and its quality – Appleby has changed immensely over the last couple of decades. But one thing we know is that the future, while being informed by our past, will be different.

I was at a “boot camp” for new heads of school in Atlanta in July. There were about 75 heads in attendance, including five Canadians and a smattering of overseas people. There were many pearls of wisdom being cast our way, some of which I plan to share in future posts. One in particular that resonated with me was that the role of the Principal is about shaping discourse in the community … dialogue about school culture, priorities, weaknesses, and dreams.

I plan to use blog posts to be a catalyst for this conversation. I am fascinated by ideas and what they mean for our youth and for our schools. The blog posts will include some of the most interesting ideas I come across. You will see more questions than answers, and more focus on the “whats” than the “hows.” Some will be brief and others annoyingly long. Please share your own ideas, your thoughts and reactions. Because this is a conversation, one I hope will engage the Appleby community.