Dr. Reshan Richards and I are set to run version two of our online course.  Register here:  ​www.globalonlineacademy.org/blending-leadership.  If this year’s cohort is anything like last year’s, we’re all in for a treat.

A few days ago, I approached the copier near my office and started to key in my email address.  I was doing what I had done many times before — setting up the machine to generate a scanned document that would then be sent to my email inbox.

This time, as I started typing the first few letters of my email address, the address auto-filled.  This saved me a few seconds (or more, depending on typos) and felt like a small gift from the universe.

Today, a colleague was attempting the same process and the same thing happened.  He let out a literal yelp of joy.  When I asked him what happened, he told me, and one of our new colleagues overheard us talking.  She said, “I auto-programmed your emails into the copier to save you time.  It was really no big deal.”

“No big deal” is often quite rare . . . like other small kindnesses, courtesies, and supportive gestures that make certain workplaces so quietly special, so patently human.

In the book Deep Work, the author talks about the fact that there are several reasons to perform deep work.  One (under-appreciated) reason to work deeply is that, in working deeply, you build up the stamina and ability to work deeply.  The act begets the act.

I feel the same way about blogging each weekday based on a simple prompt: what is something that I noticed today?  By writing about what I notice, I build up the capacity to notice.  The noticing muscle gets stronger.  Not necessarily better, but stronger.  The act begets the act.

While taking a break from planning my English class (which starts tomorrow), I read this New York Times Corner Office interview with Jason Fried of Basecamp.  I have long been a fan of Fried’s thinking and leadership style, and today he gave me a great assist. What could be a better introduction to an English class than his answer to a question about how his company hires?

Our top hiring criteria — in addition to having the skills to do the job — is, are you a great writer? You have to be a great writer to work here, in every single position, because the majority of our communication is written, primarily because a lot of us work remotely but also because writing is quieter. And we like long-form writing where people really think through an idea and present it.

I also love his rejection of the chat services upon which so many organizations have come to rely:

This is one of the reasons I don’t like chat services. When companies start thinking one line at a time and everyone’s rushed and you have to get your conversation in before it scrolls off the screen, I think it’s a terrible, frantic way to work, and people are burning out because of it.

To be clear, I don’t only love what these quotations say about the importance of writing; I also love the way they demonstrate thinking that legitimately cuts against the grain.  In a time when communications professionals are encouraging us to write fewer words and use more images, Fried asks his employees to use “long-form” writing.  And he also has the insight to think through the human cost (in this case, burnout) of tools that were supposed to make work easier.  It’s important to learn to write well; it’s also important to keep an eye on the downside of relying on strengths and ease.

As a big fan of Tim Ferriss’ podcast,  I was thrilled to meet Tim himself at a recent mentorship event I attended in Denver.  Truth be told, we only spoke for a few minutes (about the Mayweather v. McGregor fight), so the main event, for me, was a chance to attend an intimate Q&A with him.

As he fielded questions ranging from his thoughts on cryptocurrency to his favorite movie, I noticed an interesting tension in his responses.

On one hand, he pushes people to play to those areas in which they are both naturally gifted and strong.  These are some of the questions he encouraged us to ask:

• What would this [activity, project, task] look like if it were easy?
• Am I applying hard work to the right things?
• What’s easy for me that is hard for other people?
• Am I playing the right game?
• Where do I have an unfair advantage?

On the other hand, he pushes people to work harder than they ever have.  Here are a few things he advised us to do and not do:

• In marketing, do whatever is most unexpected that you can afford.  Don’t stick to the script.
• Pick a project that truly energizes you, because “great” requires a level of energy and focus that will be uncommon.
• Don’t try to out-Buzzfeed Buzzfeed.  The only uncrowded market is “great.”
• Don’t stop at 95%.  Like a marathon, the last 5% is the key to “great.”  And, like a marathon, this last 5% will require everything you’ve got.
• To leap [in your business, industry, performance] you have to completely change the way you think.

When thinking about the tension in those two groups of bullet points, I can easily trace a throughline back to performance coaching, of which Ferriss is surely familiar.  If you want to achieve uncommon mastery, you have to work very, very hard on those particular habits and skills that will help you to succeed.  Sometimes you have to work hard at what’s easy, building upon initial strength or ability.  Sometimes you have to work hard at what’s hard.  Both approaches require commitment and discipline that begin with clear thinking.  Am I working on the right things, at the right time, in the right order?  Or is there another way entirely?

This year as I’m adding my English classes to my calendar, I’m doing a few things differently.

First, I’m adding an extra five minutes to the start and end of each class.  Assuming I follow my schedule, this will buy me some time to greet students as they walk into the classroom and talk with them in the hallway after class if they have a quick question.  If I’m in the middle of something else, my calendar will remind me that it’s time to get to class — early.

Second, I’m adding an hour-long block on the day before each class.  I’m calling this event “Feedback & Planning,” and I’m going to use it to build very intentional lessons based on assessment data.  So, I can imagine using 30% of the time to grade a few papers or a stack of quizzes and then the remaining 70% to plan the next class based on what I learned from my students’ work.  (I’m also hoping that having a designated block for grading will limit all the time I spend thinking about how much I have to grade.  Instead of worrying, I’ll know that I have scheduled time every other day to get it done.)

All of these changes came from an effort to apply what I know to what I do.  Based on SEL research, I know that greeting students before they enter a classroom is a good practice. Based on research into professional growth and practice, I know that the best time to make an adjustment or ask a question is when you are close to the moment when you tried, and possibly failed, to learn something.  Additionally, I know that students thrive in settings where they receive lots of feedback, and likewise, that teachers plan their best lessons when they understand precisely what students know and do not know.

I suppose this calendar strategy is a version of me putting my money where my mouth is.  I call it putting my time where my brain is.

Here’s an exercise/challenge I shared with a leadership team last week.  I think it’s one of the most important things you can do at the start of a new school year.

Perform a time analysis of your schedule last year.  What does your actual schedule say about your priorities (as a leader, as a human being, etc.)?  Are you happy with what your choices say about you?  If so, keep things as they are.  If not, set up some sacred, repeating, weekly or monthly events to help you do more work that you consider meaningful, healthy, and/or deep.  (Invitation: Use my contact form to send me a list of these new commitments, and I’ll ask you about them in a few weeks.) 

I learned about QuestBridge today. The person who explained it to me told me that it has been successful in part because it worked hard to define its problem — not only connecting low income students to funding for college, but also connecting with students at a time and in a way that they could actually engage those students in the necessary application process.  I like the mission and the clever approach.

I’m at a retreat for leaders and entrepreneurs in Denver, and I’ve learned a lot.  It’s amazing how many common challenges and opportunities leaders in EDU share with leaders outside of EDU.

Chris O’Neil, the fairly new CEO of Evernote, gave the opening keynote.  It was an intimate gathering, more of a back-and-forth than a stand-and-deliver presentation, and at one point he said that he spends about 50% of his time on hiring.  He works hard, in that process, to be very clear about the expressed values of Evernote’s hiring process.  This helps him to avoid hiring mistakes, which can be costly.

His six pillars for hiring success, followed by a brief summary from my notes, are as follows:

1. Raise the bar. (Each new hire should improve the company and, if possible, be better than the current crop of employees.)
2. Strength of diversity. (Chis emphasized that, as a Canadian, he knows that his company can only thrive by bringing in new viewpoints, backgrounds, races, ethnicities, interests, etc.)
3. Managers own hiring. (Hiring should not be outsourced to the HR department)
4. Patience. (If people aren’t pounding the table in favor of a new hire, wait.  Go to another round.  Don’t rush the process.)
5. Realize the stakes. (A bad hire costs the company a lot of money and, ultimately, leads to decreased morale.)
6. Be humane. (Never bring somebody in for an interview unless they are truly competing for a job.  And, knowing that most people who interview will fail, be kind and compassionate.)

I’ve read that some decisions need to be made only once.  After that, they continue to produce a desired result.

This morning, walking into a conference room to prepare for a meeting, I was the beneficiary of one such decision.

All the chairs were pushed to one side and all the tables were folded up.  This was a conscious and deliberate decision — made once by the person who oversees the space.  In this particular room, whenever anyone leaves, he/she has to break down the room and push everything to one side.

As a result, when the next person enters the room to use it for a meeting, he/she has to set up the room.  More important, he/she has to figure out how to set up the room in order to achieve a certain purpose.

I’ve attended and run a lot of meetings in this room; sometimes the furniture falls into a familiar pattern, and sometimes it looks totally unique.  I never know what I’m walking into, but I know that one decision has made all the leaders in my school more thoughtful and intentional when they use this space.

I made a small table out of 2 tables and pushed the chairs in close.  Intentionally.  I wanted the group that was meeting there — the Department Chairs at my school — to begin the year in close proximity, looking at one another instead of at devices, a tight-knit group ready to share the burden and joy of school leadership.  The room offered a clean slate and I went with it, as someone once decided that I should.