Sweet mother of all that is holy, welcome, friends. I feel like we should be sitting down togetherâyou, Laurie, and Iâwith big mugs of coffee near a sunny window, fixing to indulge in all the soul Laurie and I can muster. Iâm hoping that, whatever stage youâre at in your career, this very moment will mark a transition in your life as an educator and propel you into your next and best chapter.
Passion and Purpose
Passion rides shotgun to purpose. Full stop. Given that weâre in the first chapter of this book, it might feel a bit early for a segue, but buckle up. Laurie and I are two of the most passionate people I know, so youâre in for a wild ride. I wanted to write a whole book about passion because itâs the thing I get asked about the most. Also, passion seems to be the one universal trait found in the happiest, most driven people I know. And we donât talk about it enough. So, letâs start there.
Passion. Everyone wants it, but I donât think everyone understands how vitally important it is to fulfilling lives, careers, and relationships. Many people say to me: âI donât know what Iâm passionate about anymore. How do I find my passion?â
As a fixer, Iâve often fallen into the trap of trying to fix someoneâs desire to find their passion by suggesting strategies, usually ones related to happiness (because, clearly, happiness and passion go hand in hand). What will it take to get you to snap out of it and just be happy, dammit? When trying to blindly lead someone to their passion, Iâve asked dumb questions, with insinuating, underlying suggestions, like: Do you exercise? (Does it look like I exercise?) Are you drinking enough water? Do you journal? (Clearly, journaling is the way to clarity.) Each one of these questions is born from a sincere attempt to draw you down the path of happiness until you run smack into your passionâlike itâs a thing thatâs hiding in the bushes and youâve just been too dumb to do all the things to see it.
Best-selling author Shawn Achor says that meaning and happiness cannot sustain themselves in isolation for long.1 We often try to fix unhappiness, but rarely do we approach it through purpose. It feels hard. Thereâs a lot to consider when we ask that huge question: Why am I on this planet? Turns out, however, the more I move into a place of finally loving what I do (most days), the more I realize how many others before me have journeyed on this quest to find their passion, too. They write about it (Simon Sinek), sing about it (Pink), talk about it (Oprah Winfrey). To get to your passion, you must first spend time with a less sexy question: What is your purpose? Show me a teacher who is clear on their purpose, and I will show you a teacher with passion.
Researchers who study passion have identified two types: harmonious passion and obsessive passion.2 Harmonious passion is an internalization that leads individuals to engage in activities that bring them joy, whereas obsessive passion is an internalization of an activity that creates a pressure that ultimately thwarts healthy adaptation by causing negative affect and rigid persistence. When you find harmonious passion, you find psychological well-being that is often paired with inspiration, positivity, and empathy. Itâs not just something you love, but something that can define who you are and clarify what you stand for. Conversely, obsessive passion is often intrusive, paired with negative emotions, and can be debilitating and confining. Although it can also define who you are, an obsessive passion often limits your ability to see othersâ perspectives.3
For the sake of our work, letâs focus on harmonious passion. When I meet the most inspiring and transformative teachers, they have a harmonious passion that even the maddest students or most crotchety parents can smell from the parking lot. I think it starts with clarity around this question: Why did you get into educating other peopleâs children? Surprisingly, very few teachers have spent much time pondering this. (Letâs be honest, the fact that youâve found time to even read this book is a miracle.)
Now that weâre in the space for miracles, when the stars align, it seems that those with the clearest sense of passion know these four things to be absolutely true. First, their life, at least to some degree, involves serving another. Second, that passion changes and morphs and waxes and wanes. Third, you donât find passion; it finds you. And, finally, passion is not an endgame; you can be clear about it one day and completely forget it the next day, but surrounding yourself with reminders in the tough moments is imperative.
Very few people whom I admire arrive at one passion in their life and stay there. At various stages, they have been passionate about different things. It isnât an end game; when you are driven by passion, it is often the driving force that keeps you in the game in the hardest chapters. This calling, this passion, will get you out of bed in the morning at the very least, and steal your sleep at its best.
Letâs break it down. First, a big truth weâll talk a lot about: we are wired for connection. When we are at our best, we experience joy and are in relationship with others. Although there is peace in solitude, which can also allow for necessary growth and insight, we can rarely make sense of hard things alone for long. Serving another human, at its core, requires this thing called dual awareness. Dual awareness is the learned capacity of attending to one or more experiences simultaneously.45 You first have to be aware that others, too, have a story.
A Ram Dass quote that I refer to every day hangs over my shoulder in my office. His profound words have become the foundation of so much we will talk about: âWe are all here walking each other home.â Read that again. Thatâs it. Thatâs all. At any given moment, in any given role, that is your job, my friendsâwalking each other home. I think that those words encapsulate a passion for each of us, particularly those of us who teach.
You have chosen a profession where youâve decided to walk children, young people, learners, our next generation through their most formative years and developmental shifts. In Kâ12 education, you will see these children nearly every day for more waking hours than their primary caregivers will. In our post-secondary institutions, you will encounter students who are facing some of lifeâs biggest lessons but donât yet have all the skills they need to confidently handle them. As a teacher, you will walk a lot of very impressionable humans home and often become an unforgettable part of their stories.
So, tell me, why did you get into educationâas a bus driver, an educational assistant, a classroom teacher, professor, coach, custodian, librarian, administrator? Youâre a smart person, and at some point in your life, you made the decisionâthe conscious choiceâto care for other peopleâs children every day. Did you really think it through? Do you like lice? Do you like to clean up puke and poop? Do you like being told to fuck off on a weekly basis? Do you like being on the front lines in the middle of a global pandemic? Is your heart big enough to handle disclosures and heartbreaks? See what I mean? You could have been a barista! Or an accountant! But noâyou decided to take on this sacred work of holding our most precious community commodity: our children. Itâs high risk with often low immediate reward. So, if thereâs anyone who needs to be clear on their purpose, dear one, itâs you.
Since stories hold incredible power, let me tell you of one teacher who shared her why with me during a professional development session:
In sixth grade, I was living in my third foster home. Iâd come to school every day and spend some time standing outside the staff room because it was the only place I heard laughter. Teachers would come in and out (often with smoke billowing behind themâthis was a few years back). Of course, students werenât allowed in; it was sacred ground behind those doors. It sounded fun and connected. And I wanted to be a part of that family and be in a place every day where there was laughter. And thatâs why Iâm here today, teaching in my eighteenth year. I know there are many babies, just like me, who need that joy and connection. Even on my worst days, I can give them that.
Even when youâre just laughing in the hallway with a colleague, some student is watching, and what theyâre experiencing might be what they most need. So, if you havenât yet, stop what youâre doing and answer this: Who inspired you? And why are you still committed to this profession? All bureaucratic bullshit aside, what does this work do for your soul?
I have been in educational facilities all over North America. Iâve taught university students. Iâve walked into schools where the principal, vice principal, and school counselor were in tears before I even took off my coat. Iâve felt the love, desperation, and exhaustion of so many of you. Those emotions and feelings of ânot enoughâ are the fuel for my words. Youâre the reason that Laurie and I wrote this book. I started on this path of a reconnection revolution with my little team, inspired a lot by teachers, when we came to realize that the problem lies with teachers not knowingâbecause people rarely tell themâ just how incredible they are. And I know this to be true: If teachers arenât OK, their students donât stand a chance.
Reconnection Revolution
Why, pray tell, do we need to be using words like revolution when talking about this reconnection thing? When Marti (my ride-or-die and now COO of Carrington & Company) came up with this word, ârevolution,â my first response was, âHold upâthis sounds like weâre waging a war.â I wasnât interested in being aggressive. I searched for something that would be a better fit, a softer, kinder, more inviting word. But the more time Iâve spent with educators, the more time Iâve spent with kids who are hurting, the more stories Iâve gathered about parents who question their competency, the more Iâve grown into my own skin as a parent, a wife, and a leader, the more Iâve come to know this: If weâre going to leave a legacy to be proud of, it will require an effort that is revolutionary. It will need to be an effort of epic proportions that will involve one undeniable, unmistakable component: relentless passion for connection. There isnât a finish line. In fact, itâs in the reconnection where the magic (and work) lies throughout the journeyâwhich is why so many people struggle. And by the way, the people who need connection the most are often the hardest ones to give it to on any given day.
Our first stop, dear teachers, is to talk about purpose and passion. Without it, we wonât ever get to the end of any school yearâespecially with curveballs like a pandemic thrown into the mix. We will be hard-pressed to find a healthy school culture if we donât focus on the passion of its individual members. Our hope is that weâve got you thinking about yours. Your why. Your purpose on this planet. Another thing I know to be true in this whole purpose/passion quest is that drive is a common theme in purpose. So are energy, creativity, and imagination. These are the foundations of kindness, compassion, and empathy. And all of these things are intertwined and require emotional regulation.
Emotional Regulation
There is no more profound time in education than right now, in this emotionally charged, COVID-19 global epoch. The most important thing you will ever teach a child, inside or outside a classroom, is something called emotional regulation. The skill to regulate emotion is the foundation to every other skill that matters in a childâs life, and understanding this concept will change the way you teach, lead, and love. I promise.
Emotional regulation, essentially, means how not to lose your frigginâ mind. Itâs all about how you stay calm in times of distress or get back to calm after distress. Not a single one of us is born with the capacity to regulate emotion well. We have to be shown how to do it. Again and again and again and again. Newborns come into the world with three basic skills to help them communicate and regulate their needs: fight, flight, and freeze. For a baby, their primary mechanism to communicate emotional or physical distress is to cry (i.e., to lose their frigginâ minds). Since most of us big people are hardwired for connection, we are pretty clear that our job is to soothe that baby. To walk them home. To help them make sense of the hard thing (the distress). Maybe not in those woo-woo terms exactly, but just watch any human being, regardless of race, religion, or cognitive capacityâif you place a crying baby in their arms, they will do their ever-best to soothe them.
When I, as a child psychologist, ask any parent what they want for their children, they answer with the one thing all of us want for our children and our studentsâfor them to be happy. If I ask parents to expand on this...