The Month of Contrast

Even beyond family (see my last post – The Turbo Season), December remains very much a study in contrasts. I always love Christmas festivities: things like carol services, shows, Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day celebrations (not to mention the holidays); but am struck by the pressure that accompanies December. There are often more tears, more guilt, and more anxiety in December than in the rest of the year, which seems so ironic for a season of joy.

For students, in large part this is due to exams. Based on the number of people I know who still have nightmares about exams (often decades after writing their last one,) they must rank up with fear of public speaking, arachnophobia, and fear of heights in the hierarchy of phobias.

Just a couple of weeks ago, we were in the middle of the Appleby carol services. While I am only halfway through my first year here, it is hard to imagine warmer, more beautiful, and more community-fulfilling events. And now, the Gym and the Bubble are full of Upper and Senior Schools students in exam mode. They must feel a bit like they have run out of a sauna and dived into a snow drift. The prospect of holidays in only a week must also seem like an invitation back into the sauna. But first is the task of digging out of the snow bank.

Not surprisingly, exams have been the focus of a great deal of conversations around here over the last few weeks. People have suggestions about the length of exams, formats, locations, how to deal with health issues, and whether they should be held in January rather than December. Exams are important on many levels. From an assessment standpoint, they provide a common platform for teachers to understand how successful each of their students has been. But there is also the question of stress. Stress is a good thing … in the right dosage and circumstance. Most of us have achieved our greatest triumphs in stressful moments. They are almost over-stated realities that we grow most when we are outside our comfort zones, and we learn the most about ourselves in times of failure.

While performance in school, university placement, and preparation for success in university are all important aspects of great schools, our real game is a 25-year one: our number one priority must be preparing our graduates with the attributes and attitudes – things like empathy, creativity, a strong moral compass, critical thing skills, courage – to be successful throughout life. While there is an immediate argument for the benefits of exams, I am most compelled by the longer term view.  It’s a bit like Senior 2 Boarding at Appleby. While we are interested in how students perform today, we are trying to prepare them for university when they may be facing 100%, three-hour exams; or making it through the defense of their doctoral thesis; or making the pitch to their company’s most important client, after staying up all night with a screaming newborn, and knowing that jobs are on the line; or dealing with a crisis involving life and death. Exams here are a baby-step towards life readiness.  How we – as parents and educators – help prepare them to address stressful situations is profoundly more effective in the long-term than helping them avoid these times. It becomes a critical, iterative process – face a tough situation (like an exam)… succeed or fail … reflect and adapt … face the next situation … get better … reflect and adapt … etc. If you take this perspective, it becomes more relevant to focus on effort than result. So long as the student shows commitment to the “reflect and adapt” steps, s/he will continue to get better prepared for life’s challenges. With that attitude, the process becomes a virtuous circle. Without it, it can become a destructive vortex.

There are two cautionary points. The first is to recognize when kids end up “over the line” in terms of the impact that stress has on them. One of the recent positive trends in education and society in general has been the more deliberate approach to mental health, especially relating to anxiety and depression. Organizations like CAMH, The Jack Project, and Queen’s University, among many others, are lending voice and providing tools to help young people and their families recognize and address these conditions. It’s important to recognize when our kids are dealing with challenging stress in a healthy way, versus when it may be contributing to mental illness.

The second caution is to try and keep the long-term perspective when reacting to sub-par performances. We have to know our children well enough to understand how to keep them motivated to be in the “reflect and adapt” mode, rather than either tuning their parents out, or living in fear of the parental reaction. Fear as a motivator is neither sustainable, nor healthy in the longer-term.

And if anyone knows how to get me to stop dreaming about showing late, half-dressed and not having attended any classes prior to my 100% Civil Engineering 293 final exam, please send word ASAP.

The Turbo Season

So many of us have this either wonderfully or excruciating complex relationship with December.

For most, be they Christian or not, Christmas is a dominant catalyst for what we do and how our relationships play out. It seems turbo-charges everything – from shopping to family dynamics to social interactions with friends and colleagues. Whatever usually happens during the rest of year seems, for better or for worse, to be magnified three-fold in December (just like the Grinch’s heart!) This applies equally to joy, loneliness, anxiety, happiness and generosity of spirit.

One aspect of this dynamic is how we see our families. Many of us look at other families assuming that they are “perfect” and wondering how we can ever compare with whatever our own blend of weird uncles, intra-sibling conflicts, control fixations, and off-beat traditions. I was reminded of this when our family attended Stuart McLean’s Vinyl Café Christmas show last weekend.

(For those who don’t know about The Vinyl Café, it is a CBC radio show that is a bit like Garrison Keillor’s A Prairie Home Companion, with a blend of music and stories, either sent in from listeners or written by the show’s creator and host Stuart McLean and his team. Many of these are about the fictional family headed by Dave and Morley and relate to interactions with families, neighbours and life. Dave seems like a hybrid of the cartoon character Herman and a Bill Cosby creation, all neatly wrapped in a stereotypical, earnest Canadian package. The Christmas stories about Dave and Morley are often the best. You either love The Vinyl Café or hate it, and I am devotedly in the former camp. McLean takes his show on tour across the country on a regular basis, and Alison and I have been going to the Christmas show for about a decade. For the last few years, we have included our kids, my mother and aunt, as well as a variety of friends and relatives. It is one of those experiences that cuts across generations and I always leave with a smile on my face and my heart feeling just a little bit warmer. I highly recommend it.)

This year’s Vinyl Café Christmas show featured, in addition to the usual amazing and often little-known Canadian musical talent, two new terrific Dave and Morley stories. One of these dealt with Dave and Morley’s first meeting with their daughter’s boyfriend’s family, and over Christmas dinner no less. McLean does an inspired job humorously capturing the angst created by the collision of a teenager’s two previously separate worlds.

The older I get, the more that I realize that there is an absence of “perfect” families (the Cosby Show was just that – a show, not reality,) and that all of our families are quirky in their own special ways. The major differences are in terms of degree and specifics. The quirkiness of great aunt Edna in your family is matched by, but completely different than, old weird cousin Harold in mine. And while your brother may be completely fixated on how to cook the ham, my sister has meticulously strong views where every light bulb should go on the Christmas tree – exactly. (And none of these may come close to our own personal peccadillos.) In many cases, there comes a time when we have learn to do more than accept – we have to embrace our quirkiness and realize that it can be fun and interesting … and even enjoyable. Imperfection at Christmas dinner will make it more memorable, more exciting and more entertaining, if we choose it to be.

A Different World

Appleby has had a long tradition of great hockey, a tradition that has included boys hockey for more than a century and girls hockey for close to 20 years.

During our centennial celebration last year, the school hosted an invitational start-of-season hockey tournament with separate divisions for both men and women. What could have been a one-time event was so successful that I had the pleasure of watching most the games in the second annual Appleby Invitational Tournament three weeks ago. My youngest son Alec and some of his young cousins accompanied me to some of the games and the intensity, speed and agility was riveting. While standing in the arena and taking in what seemed like mid-season performances, any worries about the NHL lockout vanished. If you have an opportunity, come and watch one of these games. They are really entertaining.

Both Appleby teams acquitted themselves well during the tournament, but the thing that has stuck with me most relates to another team. One of the girls teams was a select team visiting from Moscow. To the best of our knowledge, none of the team members – coaches or players – spoke English, so some of the Russian-speaking Appleby students helped out with translation over the weekend. The women’s final featured the Moscow team versus Appleby. Sadly, we lost with 14 second left in the game, but it was a superb match. (There is a photo in the slideshow on the right of the two teams at the end of the game.)

The incident I remember happened at the start of the game. The Russians were a fairly dominant team during the tournament and expected to win. Appleby took the opening face-off. Our right winger blew by her mark outside, then cut inside the Russian left defense before roofing the puck over the goalie’s right arm. We were up in spectacular fashion after less than 30 seconds.

The Russian coach called over the five girls who were on the ice. He didn’t go into a long diatribe, nor did he bench them. He ordered them off the ice, to go to the dressing room and change. Their tournament was over. I was at the door when the five 14 year-olds (+/-) came off – all of them either in tears, or fighting to hold them back. Everyone in the vicinity was stunned.

For a hockey-mad country like Canada, this was a poignant reminder that different cultures have very different ways of operating. (The 5 girls aren't in the photo.)

Finding Sugar Man

Last month, I wrote about a tip passed my way from our lawyer regarding the singer/songwriter Sixto Rodriguez and a documentary about his strange story entitled Searching for Sugar Man. On Saturday, my wife Alison and I finally managed to get out to the see it. (She was quick to point out that this was our first dinner and a movie couple night in many, many years. Whatever credit I should have received for the date seemed to be negated by the frequency! But I digress …)

It is a fabulous movie that we recommend to anyone. It is hard to imagine writing this story as a fiction because no one would judge it sufficiently believable. And neither of us thinks the story, which takes place mainly from the 70s to the late 90s, would even be possible today in the age of the internet.

While the story is captivating, I found myself mesmerized by Rodriguez himself – his personality, his values and how he interacted with society. Despite our watching his story for an hour and a half, he remains mysterious. It raises questions about those we meet during our lifetimes who seem to transcend traditional paths and roles. While it would be hyperbolic to consider him a prophet, it does make you think about those special individuals whose words, actions and auras affect far more than could be imagined.

Here again are links to a couple of his songs ...

Sugar Man

I Wonder
 

The Parent's Dilemma - When to Let Go of the Tiller?

When I was driving back to the office a couple of weeks ago, I had CBC Radio on the dial and was listening to the noon-hour call-in show. (Note to self: Why is it that I often listen to such shows when I have hated them for decades?)

The guest was a well-known television businessman Brett Wilson, best known as the Dragon (on The Dragons’ Den) who has made the most deals with aspiring entrepreneurs who pitch on the show. He is also known as a philanthropist and speaker, but was on the radio show to talk about his new book Redefining Success/Still Making Mistakes. The call-in aspect of the show was listeners sharing how age, (often negative) experiences, and wisdom have led them to define success more broadly and in less material ways. Factors like quality of relationships, impact on community, and happiness become far more important than earlier in their lives.

There were a couple of comments that really struck me. One was from Wilson, when he said that, contrary to the impression given by the show, he is never really investing in products or specific ideas. This is because so many of them will fail. What he is really identifying when forming a new partnership is the calibre of the people.  In particular, he is looking for passion, adaptability, innovation, willingness to make mistakes, and character. Whether a specific idea makes or not is not as important as the person who is behind the idea. He used a number of examples of partnerships that were successful not because of the initial failed concepts, but because of the subsequent ideas and the people who drove them. That is a powerful message for educators about what we should be promoting in our students.

The other comment that stuck with me is a version of an old adage: Success is not defined by the abilities you have, but by what you do with them. As educators and parents, we have to find that right line between embracing/loving kids for who they are at their core, while also pushing them to reach their potentials. That is a giant grey area for most of us. How do we encourage kids to do well, to make the most of their abilities, while not forcing them to be someone they aren’t?

On one hand, there are many teenagers who need some big pushes. Some are used to the path of least resistance, others are lacking in self-esteem, some have limited ambition relative to their talents, and some are averse to trying something they may fail at. So, part of the adult role is helping them overcome these challenges.  My wife and I are always asking ourselves whether we have done this at appropriate levels for each of our three children, knowing that the answer is very much child and age-specific. When is the right time to allow the child not to be in the band or play that sport ... and what takes its place?

On the other hand, I recently read a piece by Jane Brophy in the NY Times about the role of adults in helping youth shape their futures … who they are. It brings together a variety of concepts including the nature/nurture debate, concepts of embracing diversity, and how we sometimes want kids to be who we want them to be, rather than who they truly are. As much as I see teenagers who need to be pushed, I see examples of families who force kids in direction that is not right for them, despite what are the parents’ best intentions. I was, however, heartened by some lunchtime conversations with Appleby students last week where they all indicated that their parents are fully supportive of their pursing their dreams at a high level, even if the dreams are unconventional or unlikely.

Brophy’s article is excellent food for thought.

Understanding

“Data is not information, information is not knowledge, knowledge is not understanding, understanding is not wisdom.” – Clifford Stoll

“The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.” – George Bernard Shaw

“The most important thing in communication is hearing what isn't said.” – Peter Drucker

 

One of the speakers at the CAIS annual conference for Heads, Prof. Chris Bart from McMaster, had a stimulating presentation on good governance as it applies to independent schools. He used a variety of tools to ensure that his session struck the right balance been intellectual depth of the content and enjoyment for the audience (… always a nice thing when you are in three days of meetings.)

He made some comments about communication that made sense on many levels. I couldn’t help but think about my own challenges in being both a good spouse and parent with respect to communicating. (My wife Alison has made it clear that further references to Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus are no longer de rigueur at home!) And it is clear that schools and teachers are constantly searching for ways to provide students the tools to be good communicators and to fully understand what that means. It is universally recognized as one of those critical life skills.

Bart revisited the view that communication has only been achieved when a message has been a) sent, b) received, c) understood, and d) interpreted. Many assume that the job is done after only step a) or b). Often (but certainly not always) the understanding of that sequence is directly proportional to age, so it is an important focus with students.

What really stuck with me from that portion of his presentation was the tool he used to illustrate it – an ad relating to the French translation of the fabulous movie March of the Penguins (about the migration of Emperor Penguins in Antarctica.) Take a look and use it with anyone who tends to focus only on sending messages.

Remembrance & Generations

On Thursday, we held our annual Remembrance Day Chapel services, which were both poignant and lovely. (There are videos of the services included in the selection on the right side of my blog page.) Much of the impact was due to the elements of the services – music, lessons, the reading the Honour Roles, and the laying of memorial wreaths – and how they were delivered by students and faculty.

I was particularly delighted about two specific parts of the service. First was the address by Curran Egan ’08, who in addition to doing graduate work in military history and serving on the Appleby Alumni Board, is a 1st Lieutenant in the Royal Regiment of Canada. Curran did a wonderful job talking about the act of remembrance, including the nature of our military history as well as the reality and tragedy of war. He also did an uncommonly good job in linking our acts of remembrance to the lives of students today, including how young men and women can honour the legacy of previous generation through their own non-military actions. I think Curran struck the perfect balance between asking his audience to appreciate the past, and asking them to allow it to inform their futures. He also made his point in a way that translated into the diversity of the Appleby student body of 2012.

The other aspect related to the second service when it was our privilege to host, in addition to Curran, three alumni veterans: Don Benson ’52 who served as a Lieutenant in the 48th Highlanders of Canada; Tom Holden ’41, who served in the RCNVR as a Lieutenant (N) on HMCS Gananoque on active service in the Atlantic, and Bill Joyce ’34 (also a long-serving Appleby faculty member) who was on active service in Europe with the Fort Garry Horse as well as in Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery’s Headquarters. He retired as a Lieutenant Colonel with a DSO. (There are also some photos of these guests in the slideshow on the ride side of the blog.)

There are times when alumni and students come together and there is a magic of interaction, which electrifies the community. For me, that was the case on Thursday. Not only were students humbled and fascinated to see men who were part of history, but I could also tell that there was a deep appreciation to be in the presence of those who answered a far more dangerous call of service to society than we will ever face. We all wonder how we will react to moments that require courage.

There are times when adults lament about lack of values or respect in the young people of today. If Thursday was any indication, this generation has a very healthy sense of respect and thoughtfulness.

My sense is that our veterans also found the services to be meaningful and special. Not only did it connect them to their “second homes” growing up (including remembering the school-mates, some of whom never came home,) it also allowed them to feel a sense of appreciation from the Appleby community for their service. In the 1970s and 80s, as a society we didn’t do a very good job paying tribute to those who served and those who died. It is one of those things that we are getting better at. It’s just too bad that so many who would have appreciated it are no longer with us.

I hope that we will be able to have more veterans return for future services – it is one of those things that they would enjoy, and there is no doubt that their involvement is a powerful experience for students and employees at Appleby today.

I am also interested in other ideas about how alumni involvement can enhance student experiences. Inter-generational connection is an important part of growing up, as it can create a profound, broader and more fulsome perspective for our young people.