Invisible Audiences

Hey Brother!

I'm glad you liked that advice so much. I think a poster is a great idea, but we can do better than a calming meadow.

Thoughts? I think it's pretty great. Something that all of our regular readers (Hi Mom and Dad!) will really enjoy.

I've been thinking a lot about your question this week, and here's what I came up with.

The thing that comes to mind when I think of doing things because of what other people thought are all the things I've never actually done. Especially when I was a kid. I was so scared of other people that I had two friends all the way through elementary school. I never branched out. I never talked to kids I didn't know or tried things I wasn't comfortable with. I had two zones, my tiny comfort zone, and the danger zone. I avoided the danger zone at all costs.

The best example of this I can think of was after I quit soccer. I want to say I was around 9 years old. I quit because I wasn't very good, and my team wasn't very good. In reality I probably wasn't that bad, just not aggressive enough to get anything done. Anyway, I remember dad saying that it was fine if I didn't want to do soccer, but I should do something. So we signed up for something I was actually interested in, a computer class.

I remember being excited for this class, until we got there. I didn't even make it out of the parking lot. I was terrified. I don't remember exactly what I was scared of, but I think it was that everyone else would be better than me. So I just didn't go. I wish I'd gone. Seems like something I would've enjoyed. But the point is, there's a lot of things I could've done, but I didn't. I'm trying to be better now, to venture out of my comfort zone, but it's still a challenge.

The funny thing is that as much as I can wish I would've done things differently when I was younger, I still turned out fine and I wouldn't want to change anything about my life now. So maybe what I would tell my younger self is "Don't worry about it. Everything's going to be fine. This stuff isn't a big deal".

Which is kind of the same thing I find myself trying to tell my students. Teenagers are so worried about how they appear to others. They're always concerned about their invisible audiences. Adults don't help either. They're always trying to scare them into doing their best in school. Like, if you don't do well in grade 9, you won't get to do the grade 10 courses you want and then you won't ever get to do the college program you want and then your life is pretty much over. The message I want them to understand is that they should just do their best, find some things they enjoy, and not worry so much.

I know that's what I'd tell my younger self. Don't worry so much. Everyone's not really watching. And even if they are, who cares?

What would you tell your younger self if you had the chance?

If A Tree Fails In The Forrest

Hey Brother,

"The first step to being really good at something is being really bad at something."

That is really inspiring. I want to hang that poster in my office with a backdrop of a calming meadow. Seriously. 

I remember learning about Mozart as a kid...apparently he just sat down at a piano when he was a toddler and started playing. He was never terrible. But for the rest of us, we have to embrace failure as step 1. I think that was easier as a kid, because everyone was terrible, so you didn't stick out. Oh, you don't know how to do long division? none of us do. That's why we're in grade 3! Oh, you need the baseball to sit on top of a tee in order to make contact? Well you should probably man up, because tee's are unacceptable at any age.

You get the point. It was easy when we were young, because everything about us was in development. Nowadays there is this looming assumption that i'm supposed to be an adult. A completed version of something. And with that, comes a pressure to not suck at things! That pressure is probably exclusively internal, but nonetheless, it's there, and it's toxic!

What would I love to be good at, that I currently suck at? There's a long list, but I've narrowed it down to three that share something in common. Fantasy football, dating and standup comedy. What do they have in common? Not only do I suck at them, but improving would mean falling on my face in public. Which means I have to stop caring what other people think...or at least care more about improving.

I'm trying to think of things i've done that illustrate not caring what other people think...it's probably not a good sign that wearing white after labour day, and live tweeting the bachelor are pretty high on my list. The things i've done because I care what others think is definitely a deeper category. In grade 2, I accidentally wore my pyjamas to school. I didn't realize they were on underneath my snow suit. When I discovered what I'd done, I hid in the bathroom until mom brought me a change of clothes. When I was six, I snuck into the medicine cabinet and found the 'extra strength' Tums. "Extra strength? I need that!" I ate the whole bottle and checked my bicep for growth between each pill popped.

It's terrifying, but there is just too much I want to accomplish that involves a healthy dose of public humility. So i'm not kidding; I'm currently designing my office and your quote is going on the wall. I figure that will solve everything, right?

When you think about things you've done because of what other people thought....or despite what they thought. What comes to mind?

This blog may be terrible

Heeeey Brother!

I really enjoyed your advice about giving advice. As a matter of fact, am I allowed to just say that the best advice I've ever received is your advice on giving advice?

No? Okay.

So I thought a lot about how to answer this question. I thought about people who have given me good advice at times when I was struggling. I thought about advice I've gotten from friends, teachers, and family members. I ultimately settled on advice that I've heard from a few different sources, phrased a few different ways. It's advice that I'm still trying to implement in my life today.

The first step to being really good at something is being really bad at something.

It makes sense. Wayne Gretzky wasn't born great at hockey. As a matter of fact I bet he fell on his face the first time he went out on the ice. I bet the first time Eric Clapton picked up a guitar it sounded like a cat dying. Now, I'm not saying we all have the ability to be as good as Wayne Gretzky if we practice hockey enough, but there was a time in his life when he was as bad at hockey as me. He was probably 3 years old, but still, the point stands.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I remember the first time I handed in a paper in an English class. I got a C+. Being that I had been a lazy high school student, it took me a little bit to realize this was not something to be proud of. It was a three page paper and I specifically remember thinking "How am I going to talk about something for three pages?". By the end of my English degree I would wonder how you could say anything important in just 3 pages. I was not great at writing when I started. It was only through writing lots of papers and getting lots of feedback that I managed to improve. Similarly, when I first moved out of mom and dad's place, I was terrible at most household things. I had two specialties: scrambled eggs, and grilled cheese sandwiches. I was terrible at cooking, but I'd never been forced to improve. Moving out and having a wife who didn't want to cook every single meal for me forced me to improve.

There are other things I can look at and think "maybe I wasn't great at that when I started". For example, I can see very easily how much my teaching has improved over the last three years. I'm better at relating to my students, managing their behaviour, assessing their work, and being flexible to their needs. Same thing with being a husband and a father. As much as the Mrs would tell you that I've always been amazing, it's pretty clear that I've had my shortcomings, and I'm constantly working on them.

As I've realized this, I've also had less time to improve on things outside of being a teacher, husband, and father, since those things take up so much of my time. This really puts a lot of things in perspective for me. For example, when I was a teenager I really wished I could be in a band, but I couldn't play any instruments. I wasn't willing to be terrible at guitar, so I'd never be good at it. Now, while I still think it would be cool to be in a band, I can see that you can't just be good at everything and have to prioritize things. Bands are cool, but music isn't a priority to me. I have no shame about not being able to play guitar, or dominate at hockey, because I don't have a lot of time to invest in those things. So the little time I do have to invest in hobbies, I'd like to put into things I'm passionate about, like writing.

I want to keep improving, that's why I keep branching out and finding new forms of writing. I'd love to branch out even more. I'd love to write fiction, but the thing is... I'm kind of bad at it right now, and there's only one way to get better. By being terrible. So I'm going to try to write anyway, and I'm going to share that writing, even if it's terrible. Because that's how you get to be not terrible.

Is there anything you'd like to be terrible at for a while?

Don't Eat Yellow Snow

Heeeey Brother!

Advice on giving advice…here we go.

The key to giving great advice is authenticity…once you learn to fake that, you’re set!

When I was 12 years old, not lacking in confidence, I remember distinctly thinking, “wow…I’m great at giving advice!” What I meant by that was, I was pretty good at telling people what to do, and providing a compelling reason to listen (…compelling to a 12 year old). 

By this definition, giving great advice can often times feel like salesmanship, or manipulation. As my younger brother, I’m sure you’re the last person on Earth I need to convince of this argument. Remember Halloween? “It’s simple math! I’ll give you 3 tootsie rolls per chocolate bar! If you want more candy, I strongly advise you to take this deal!”

But we don’t always have selfish motives. In fact most days are not halloween. How do we advise people we love when we see them heading the wrong direction? How do we get them to change course when we know where the current path leads?

I don’t know the answer to that. But I know that I am an incredibly stubborn person, and I have learned most of my life lessons the hard way. Advice rarely gets through to me…but when it does, it always shares three characteristics.

1. I trust the source. Usually because I know the person cares about me. Sometimes because the source has a history of integrity and credibility. I can count the number of people who meet both criteria on one hand, and you’re one of them.
2. The advice wasn’t about getting me to change my behaviour. It was about equipping me to make my decision with new perspectives.
3. Positivity is compelling and motivating. Fear is paralyzing.

Example:

“Mark, you’re going to regret buying that 20 pack of Monterey jack taquitos. Buy some vegetables instead!”

“Mmmmmmm…Taquitos sound amazing! What else do you want to accomplish this week?… Interesting…you want to be a productive, functioning human? Can you do that, AND eat 20 taquitos in 3 days?”

I think the best advice is about equipping people to make the decisions that are right for them. That makes the person giving the advice more invested in their subject, and less in their choices. 

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

Jenga blocks and beliefs

Hey Brother!

Changing your mind is hard. I've been thinking a lot about the differences in how we developed changed minds. You talked about your old way of thinking. How you went from one belief to the other, equally confident in both positions. What I found interesting about that was that I think we had very similar changes of mind, yet the way it changed was different.

I didn't really have the same issue with overconfidence that you had. Let's take your jenga metaphor and run with it. You talked about your beliefs as a jenga block, Where you would pull out jenga blocks until your old beliefs crumbled. Then you would find yourself just as confident in a new tower as you wer in the previous one. I had the opposite problem I would stand by my jenga tower, and defend it. I would decline to think about things. I would seek out people to reaffirm my preexisting beliefs, rather than acknowledging multiple perspectives. I was stagnant in my beliefs. This became harder and harder to sustain because instead of acknowledging my lack of confidence, I tried to cover it up. It was like the blocks in my tower were slowly being chipped away and I was just painting over the damage. I was worried that if I moved one block, my whole tower would tumble. I wasn't ready to do that. My beliefs were too much a part of my identity.

I remember the first time I let a block come out. I was in India. I looked out into a crowd full of hundreds of people and thought "If what I believe is true, I can be almost certain all of these people are going to hell". I knew this based exclusively on where these people lived. I realized that this just wasn't something that fit in with the rest of my beliefs. It wasn't the only block I pulled from my jenga tower.

The 6000 year old earth? No thanks. Sexism and homophobia? No thanks. A God who orders his people to commit genocide? No thanks. People burning for all of eternity because they grew up somewhere with a different name for God? Definitely not. Yet, rather than just watching my tower fall and walking away, I started to wonder if I really needed a tower. Maybe I could build a house, or a fort, or a raft. There are lots of different ways to combine blocks. The idea of there ultimately being a creator behind everything still makes sense to me, and so do the principals of Christianity that used to be so important to me. Honesty, forgiveness, love... those are still great ways to live your life. It's the blocks that get used to wall people out that I have trouble with, not the ones that get used to bridge people in.

One of my favourite things about university was that it taught me to think for myself. I can deconstruct what other people think, look at the individual pieces, and figure out if they have value. Before university I just picked my team and chose their beliefs. Now I see that belief isn't a team sport. I can form my own opinions on spirituality, politics, morality, and just about anything else, that are different from other people's beliefs and I can see the value in other people's beliefs too.

Now, there's a flip side to this too. Whenever anybody asks me if I'm Christian I have no idea what to say. I think I'm Christian, because I believe there's a God and a lot of my beliefs about that God are influenced by the Christian tradition. But at the same time when people hear the word Christian, they picture the jenga tower. The jenga tower that doesn't accept evolution, or gay people, or value in other peoples faiths. That's not me. So people ask me that question, and I either give an unsatisfactory answer, or end up in a long discussion about what the word Christian actually means.

But it's not just faith where I find myself giving unsatisfactory answers. It's a lot of life. Which can be tricky when you're a teacher and people look to you for advice. When a student asks me for advice I often find myself trying to present a balanced response where I weigh both sides for them, rather than pushing for what I  believe would be better for them. Because what if I'm wrong? What if my opinion makes them choose the wrong thing? It's hard to navigate the roads when you feel like you don't know which way you're going, Blurry lines work great for beliefs, but aren't practical on road maps.

It's times like that I wish I had the same confidence in my positions that you talked about previously having in your post. Maybe it would help me give advice and steer people who are trouble prone in the right direction. I guess what I'm getting to is, do you have any advice on giving advice?

Change You Don't Have To Believe In

Heeey Brother,

You're right! People ARE like taquitos! And I want to play too!

People are like taquitos.....because....having an intimate encounter with one at 3am in a gas station parking lot will fill you with shame and regret.......poetry was never really my thing.

I really enjoyed reading your last entry. After I finished it, I turned on the TV and was harassed by an endless parade of NDP and Liberal ads, both claiming to be the change the nation needs. You can't help but notice that these proclamations of change are always pretty nondescript. Because while a massive majority of the country agrees that change is in order, defining what that change should look like can get a little contested. But the main goal of a campaign isn't really to change peoples minds, or win people over from the other 'side'. It's to drive voter turnout with people who agree with you, and convince undecided voters that you're the one they already agree with. And that's because, people don't change their minds very often. We surround ourselves with people who validate our beliefs; we seek out information that confirms the things we suspect, and find reasons to deny any contrary evidence. Even when someone presents a compelling case, we often times dig our heels in like stubborn mules. People don't change their minds easily.

It really wasn't my intention to go on a political rant today...but the election results got me thinking. An old friend of mine messaged me as the results were being reported and asked me if I was still a Conservative. This person obviously hadn't talked politics with me for a while, but I was reminded that when I was 19 I voted Conservative. It took a lot to change my mind - new friends, a lot of books, and a degree in political science. But here's the concerning part - when I was 19, I was positive that I was right and anyone who disagreed was wrong...and I felt the same way a few years later, even though all of my positions had changed! Why? Why was my change of opinion not accompanied with a dose of humility?

I can think of one other example. As you know, we grew up in a religious home. Mom and Dad weren't zealots or legalists. Far from it. But we grew up praying before meals, going to Sunday school and having our mouths washed out with soap when we swore (okay... maybe that one was just me). As you grow up, you start to question your beliefs, and like a game of Jenga, the tower of your faith begins to wobble. The earth isn't six thousand years old? Pull a block! Women can't be leaders?....Pull a block! Wait, virgin birth? Pull a block! And eventually the whole thing came crashing down and I walked away, just as confident with my newly found atheism as I once was with my fundamentalism.

I have this friend... and I don't want to describe her as religious, or spiritual, because I don't know how she'd describe herself. But let's just say, she's into Jesus. I asked her how she reconciled her faith with all of these logical inconsistencies. I was expecting some sort of defence. Maybe "scientists have been wrong before!" or at least, "the lord works in mysterious ways!" But she didn't say any of that. Instead she just said, "yeah. I don't know the answers to all of those questions. And it doesn't bother me much." If that answer had come from someone else, it would have driven me insane. But the thing about this person is, she has clearly figured something out. She is full of joy and compassion and she sees life in colour...so I shut my mouth and gave her the credibility she deserves.

I'm not thinking about going back to church. Or voting Conservative for that matter. But what I am considering, is making an effort to not assume that I know everything. Maybe I could spend less time judging other peoples positions, or trying to change their minds, and a little bit more time being open myself.

Do you have any thoughts about changing your mind?

People as Taquitos

Hey Brother!

I was inspired by the reaction you got to your blog. People really responded to it. The only reason I could come up with is that people really really like... taquitos. I think taquitos may be the secret to unlocking blog celebrity status. So, on that note I would like to introduce a one part series to this blog that I call "Terrible poetry by Tim: Part one"

People are like taquitos, hard on the outside but gooey on the inside
People are like taquitos, just because they seem cool, doesn't mean they won't burn you
People are like taquitos, becoming increasingly culturally ambiguous
People are like taquitos, if they've spent hours in 7-11, they've seen some shit
People are like taquitos, just because you see their shell, doesn't mean you know what's going on inside.

So you asked me about change, and whether people ever really do. You also used me as evidence that they do. I had two entirely separate gut reactions to that. We'll start with the first: flattery and acceptance.

You said you hoped not to offend me, but it was far from it. I know I was not bold, confident, or a leader 10 years ago. I was far from it. 18 year old me would have failed horribly as a teacher, a father, a husband, or frankly an independent human. Sometimes I think about what would have happened if I had moved out on my own after high school and the picture is not pretty. The house would be a mess and I'd likely only ever eat scrambled eggs, grilled cheese, and things that go in the microwave.

In terms of how I changed from 15 year old me, to 28 year old me, I can only think of one answer: necessity. I don't think I ever woke up and decided that I would be different. There was no New Years resolution that changed me. I changed because I had to. People talk a lot about being ready for certain things in life, but some things you can't prepare for. I don't think you can ever be ready to be a dad, for example. Nothing can prepare you for that. It is the things you have to do to be successful as a dad that change you. When I got married, I was not the kind of person who could give 95% of his time to other people. I'm there now. I didn't choose that, I was changed into that.

I think that there's a certain extent to which we form our situations, and a certain extent to which our situations form us. So I guess if you want to change you kind of have to force yourself into situations that change you. I think that's clear in my life. The times I've changed the most have been the times I've forced myself out of my comfort zone. Being a camp councillor, a husband, a father, a student, a teacher. All these things drew different parts of me out and made me change. Maybe if it weren't for those experiences I'd still be like I was when I was 15. Obviously the situations that change you would be different than the situations that changed me, but it's the same basic idea.

But this is all without mentioning my second gut reaction, which tells a different story. There was a very large part of me that thought "Oh there's another person I've tricked". There's this nagging voice in my head that says maybe I haven't changed, and that maybe at some point everyone will realize I'm a fraud. My co workers will realize I have no idea what I'm doing, I'll never be a successful teacher, and my family will have to work around the fact that I'm not good at anything.

I know this is irrational. I'm on my third year of doing this teacher thing, and I'm getting better not worse. But that voice is still there. So sometimes I wonder if I've really changed. Maybe I'm still just scared 15 year old Tim with zero confidence. Maybe I'm just really good at putting on a front. Maybe people think I've changed, but they don't know what's going on inside.

Now I don't want you to come out of this thinking I'm some tortured soul on the inside who's falling apart, that's not true, but that voice is still there. Maybe it's getting quieter, it's still a part of me, but you don't see it. But that's one of the interesting things about being human, we never get to see what's going on inside people. We will never truly understand what it's like to be someone else. Even the people we are closest to and think we know inside and out can still surprise us. In the end we are kind of like taquitos, just because you see the outer shell, doesn't mean you know what's inside.

So, brother, do you have any other thoughts on changing, how we see other people, life, or more importantly, taquitos?

Change is Hard

Hey Brother!

This is a brand new beginning for me. A little more than a month ago, I got on a plane and flew most of the way across the country with nothing but a few suitcases. I sold my furniture, my TV and my first car. Basically, if I couldn’t take it on the plane, it was sold or given away. So I walked into an empty apartment with my carry on bags, and that was it. I was ‘moved in’. It’s starting to come along now, but for a while the empty space felt less like a home and more like a vacant garage.

It’s daunting, but the potential of a new beginning is also really exciting. In fact, I may be addicted to new beginnings. In a little over 4 years, I have lived in Kelowna, Edmonton, Regina, Vancouver and Toronto. There’s something about a new city, new apartment, new neighbourhood, new climate, that feels full of hope. Like a new years resolution on steroids. I could be better with my finances. I could start going to the gym. I could pick up that book and put down the taquito! I could learn to play the guitar, or bake a lasagna! The possibilities are endless.

I can trace my affinity for fresh starts back to elementary school. I used to love the first day of a new year. Every September was an opportunity to reinvent myself. “This year, maybe I’ll do my homework! I’ll be more organized! I’ll talk less and be more mysterious! I’ll dress up like a clown and wave at cars on my way to class! (story for another day). I even started writing a book called ‘Chapter 1’s’ because I loved beginning new stories, but quickly lost interest.

Here’s the discouraging part - I never did my homework. I always choose nap over gym and I can’t play guitar or bake a lasagna. I have had enough new starts to confirm the age old saying - wherever you go, there you are. So much so, that lately I’ve been asking myself if change is even possible, or if we are just stuck with ourselves. I can trace a lot of my biggest shortcomings back to my childhood, and that’s kind of terrifying! I’m still impulsive. Bad with money. And will put my foot in my mouth in pursuit of a laugh. I can trace that stuff back to 7 year old me!

The more I think about it, the more I realize that it’s an age old topic that has been covered by much smarter people than me. It’s the classic debate of nature vs nurture. It’s even a debate about free will vs determinism. But I’m not looking for answers as much as I am my own personal philosophy. I need to believe that people can grow and change. That we can become something new. Partly so i’m not damned to a life of taquitos, but also because that’s the foundation of the society I want to live in. One where we forgive each other and give each other second chances. One where we educate each other and challenge each other to be better.

With all of that comes a healthy dose of accountability. I can’t blame my genes or my circumstances. All of those times I made a new years resolution, whether it was new years or not, and failed - that’s on me. Because I have to believe change is possible. It’s just really hard.

As I look around for evidence to support my hope that people can change, I see you. You are a bold, confident, ambitious leader…and i hope this isn’t offensive, but that was not you as a child. So I guess I’m wondering if you have any thoughts on change, or anything else.

New Beginnings

Hey Brother!

I've been thinking a lot about new beginnings lately.

Like how I begin a new blog project every 6 months or so. But enough about that.

I always imagined that life would settle in to something regular and predictable at a certain point. Like I would finish school and get a real job and then everything would just kind of be normal from then on out. But that's not really the way it works.

The last 5 years have been just one new beginning after another. Begin a new marriage, begin a new school program, begin being a parent, begin a new job, begin living in a new city, begin living in another new city, begin being a parent of two. It would be one thing if that was the end of it, but as our family looks 5 years down the line, we see nothing but more new beginnings. I can't help but wonder if things will ever just settle in to something normal.

But that just raises another question... Do I really want things to settle in to something normal? I mean, make no mistake, I'm absolutely the kind of person who would settle in to something comfortable when given the chance. I basically have to be dragged out of my comfort zone, but maybe that's good for me some times. For example, I'm the kind of person who could go to a restaurant ten times and only ever order one thing. Some of my favourite places to eat lunch are places where I've only tried a single thing on the menu. I know I like it, so why risk trying something I may hate? The problem is, I'm missing out on a lot of good stuff, and half the fun of life isn't just enjoying something, it's discovering things you enjoy.

This also applies to things that are a much bigger deal than restaurants. Like where I live. I loved growing up in Kelowna, and would gladly stay there my whole life. It's comfortable, it's familiar, I know how to get around, I know what to do when I'm bored, and where I like to eat. But moving to Langley has given me new experiences. Living half an hour from the ocean has opened my eyes to a whole different kind of thing I enjoy. It's one thing to learn about ocean life and tides, it's an entirely different thing to go out there and watch the tides move in person. The sense of awe you get when you realize that the moon is literally pushing the ocean water around, leaving all sorts of clams and crabs and other life in its trails is a thing you would never experience in the Okanagan. Theoretically, I totally get gravity, but watching it happen is something my brain totally can't handle.

New beginnings are also good for me. I used to be terrified to make changes. New jobs, new cities, new school programs, new kinds of relationships, they all used to terrify me. Now that I've experienced all those things... they still terrify me. But in a different way. They're scary, but not paralyzing. New beginnings just lead to more new beginnings, and more confidence in my ability to handle them. I need new beginnings, even if I have to be dragged out of my comfort zone to experience them.

So, as someone who just moved most of the way across a continent, I'm sure you can relate to some of this. I'd love to hear about some of your new beginnings.