jalléCafe

Complimentary personalities

Since my last post during the first week of July, I returned to Zurich bringing Mom with me for a two week visit.  She's been here enough to know her way around and has always been easy to have as a guest - flexible, helpful, curious, interested to know my friends and nearly always in a good mood. 

But one little thing used to drive me nuts:

I would make a note of how long Mom could be in my apartment before she looked at some shelf, counter, corner or wall and said, "Jill, you could really use a ____ there."  (Usually 30 minutes or less...)

I mean, really, I'd lived many months without _____ (a picture, vase, plant, gadget) and without any apparent damage to my life! 

I'd respond that _____ (said vase, plant, picture, gadget) just wasn't a priority right now in the scheme of some big client, project, etc.  But while cleaning closets during the last few months, I was reminded of one of my weaknesses:  I just cannot see details and anyway don't enjoy them.  Those little nice-to-have items would never be a priority. And part of my life was kind of a mess for it.

I am a big picture person, conceptual; I see strategy in chunks and priorities.  Someone needs to remind me where I put my car keys.

So this time, I tried responding, "OK, Mom, maybe you can help me find one?" What a great bonus that proved to be.  See here a few things acquired that way that I'm really using. 

Go figure.  Mom sees details the way I see concepts. Our different perspectives fit perfectly. And my life is better for the new vase, garlic clove holder, cookie jar, paper towel dispenser and bucket for my cleaning stuff.

Storm Spotters

It's been a while since I posted a Lesson from Mom.  Last week, she shared a classic:

Three generations of my family - Mom, two of her sons, and two of her grandsons - are currently taking training from the local National Weather Service to be certified as "storm spotters." 

My home town, which has recently been hit hard by DHL closing its US domestic shipping service (laying off thousands of people in the area) - is also long-known in the Spring as "tornado alley."  A warning siren system sounds each time serious dark clouds approach.  As children, we were trained to go to the basement or the most reinforced room in a one-story house.  We conducted tornado drills at school.  Dad put candles and flashlights together in a "survival kit."

Mom says she's tired of going to the basement all of the time; so, she's going out with my brothers to find the storms!  (Must be in the genes.  Her father also tended to pile the four grandchildren all in the car and chuckle gleefully as he drove through the farm fields chasing lightening saying "we are in the safest place because we are grounded by rubber tires!.")

But Mom is more educated.  "Lightening is not an indicator of storm intensity, " she informed me as I reminisced.

What I love is that - in the most dismal of economic times with 100s of For Sale signs in yards and families moving in together - someone is offering and my family is taking a course about a fascinating natural aspect of life in Ohio.  Tornadoes.

This, to me, demonstrates persistence at its best - finding something new to be motivated about instead of sitting around depressed.  In fact, I won't be surprised if the entire family becomes "Advanced Storm Spotters" by later taking the second course at the regional level. (They are already dreaming about it.)

Tornadoes don't care about the economy or respond to economic stimulus packages.

And Mom is not going to the basement either!

Lessons from Mom: Unheard conversations

This post relates to my post several months ago about why people don't speak-up in meetings.  Mom left a comment on the post.  And then, because of that battle I lost with my priorities - I didn't publish it!  I read it just now over the weekend. (Ugh! Really sorry, Mom.)  And here it is...because it is well worth reading.  We are all still battling like 10 year old! :-), jill

Hey Jill,  I remember sitting in meetings being so bored and therefore making mental lists of groceries, things to be done at home, in my classroom, etc.  Also, like you said, it was useless having an opinion because the topic was predecided before the meeting anyway, just needed to be documented that a meeting about the subject was held and we had a chance to voice an opinion.  An example: the school calender for the coming year.....pre-decided but presented HA~!!!!!  In my classroom I always tried to make everyone feel that it was safe to have an opinion, no one, including myself was going to get upset with just an opinion.  How else could you teach that everyone counts and is an important part of the whole room....especially the quiet ones? They could also write it down & give it to me. I always thought the only way to develop an opinion at that age was to ask for one! This doesn't change at any age does it?!!!!  MOM

The biggest difference

And then Mom said,

Maybe that's the difference between working in a school and working in a business.  In teaching, we expect kids to all be different.  And in business, you expect everyone to be the same."

Why work on a team

I asked Mom what was important when working on a team (as in a school with 25 or so teachers):

She said, "You have to be willing to go your share or more.  Be concerned, helpful, caring and show this to other people.  Spend some time talking with someone when you would really rather spend it in your classroom.

You can't just go in a do your job.  It makes it harder for the whole building (school).

You have to get to know the people on a human level."

And if you don't?

"You would feel like no one would care about anyone.  You would just go in.  There would be no support system.  You would have to get your entire happiness from the work itself - the teaching, the kids.

How could you even work when you don't know the best way to cooperate?  Everyone has a different personality and way of working.

Can a person really be completely happy unless he or she can interact with another person?"

That was a question which perfectly answered my question about working on a team.

Lessons from Mom: Change & flexibility

Mom worked for decades in a school with about 25 teachers.  She saw them every day.  Like many of us professionally, she out-survived a number of "bosses" (aka school principals).

Did you have to be open to change as a teacher?

I asked perhaps with a stereotype in my head:  so many years of the same routine in the same walls, the same bells ringing to change class at the same time, the same teachers in the lunchroom, the same school cook in the school cafeteria.  Only the kids changed and then again maybe they act the same at the same age, too.

"You have to change as a teacher," she said.  "We would get new curriculums or change from one text book to another."  It started with bringing in standardized testing.  And then more change was coming. You might have to learn something new in order to teach it.  To study more. To take a class. To listen to someone else speak. (Teachers don't like to be taught by a speaker apparently.  They prefer to be talking in front of their own captive classrooms.)  "They are the worst people in a meeting ever," Mom added. "There will always be five over on the side talking the whole time,"  At least in corporate meetings we are trained in the good manners of acting like we are listening.

The beginning was always the hardest.  Frustrating.  "Sometimes I would just have to walk out in the hallway, stomp around and walk back in again."  If you are not going to do that, keep walking back in and trying again, you are just going to be more unhappy. You are going to have a harder time.  Every aspect of life has change.

And (I can say from real experience with Mom, it often comes back to this...) a person needs a good sense of humor through the whole thing.  "I mean, really, keep candy in your desk."

Happy Birthday to Mom!

Today, July 3, Mom celebrates a "big number" birthday, as she told me on Sunday.  I willl not state the number here (but you can find it in an earlier blog post...smile).

On my birthday in April, as I was asking Mom about communication between 10-year-old boys and girls, she had a lot to say about the models we learn from our parents.  She said one goal is to get children to learn new models, even if the first models were strong and positive. That we need to question our models to learn additional skills. 

In a speech I prepared for a client this week, I referenced Mom's father as one of my first strong models of leadership. Grandpa taught me to explore, to love learning, to treat all people with respect.  He was a school superintendent -- managed a bunch of teachers for decades.  Learned to work with all kinds of people. I was 10 years into my career before I consciously recognized what an influence his way of leading had on my way of leading even in a different context.

But when I interview Mom I realize she had an even stronger influence on the way I lead today.  As we were talking about models she moved naturally to the underlying goal that she wanted her students to learn:  to cooperate with each other. It's one of the most important things we do in life.   She said, "You may not like or agree with a person, but you have to learn to work with him or her.  That's the way life is.  You have to learn to work together with people who are different than you."  Notice she says different -- not better or worse.

"It's about keeping an open mind," she said.  "Accept people as they are...sometimes you have to be willing to let them do it their way.  Be flexible.  You have to decide what is going to matter for you the most.  Is it really going to disturb your life to try it their way?  Are you doing something for your own credit or to get it done and have a good result?"

Openness to people, their ideas, and ways of working.  After four decades, it took writing a blog to finally give credit where credit is due for that leadership model.  It is not just a lesson, it is one of the many gifts from Mom. And I thought it was her birthday!

Communication between genders

Readers often ask me when I'll post another "Lesson from Mom."  I interviewed Mom to gather more lessons on my birthday -- way back in April.  Next week is her birthday.  The least I can do is follow-through before then!  (When it is the words of your own mother, you feel you need to write them like gold.) I have two series of posts in the next weeks:  gender differences and working on teams.  Let's start with the battle between the sexes, shall we?

A client recently voiced an interest to improve communication between men and women at work.  So I thought it might help to go "back to the root causes" by asking Mom if she noticed any differences in the way boys and girls communicate as 10-year-olds.  Her first response was a bit mild.  "Yes, to some extent there is a difference, but not as much as when they get older.  Boys can be just as 'chatty' and 'talky' as girls.  It is what they are talking about that is different."

She had my interest.  "Girls would talk about where they were going.  What they were wearing.  Their homework.  Anything that might have happened the previous night or could happen the next day.  Boys would talk about sports, a game they saw on TV, and their bodies, especially the sounds they could make.  They thought it was funny." (So far, I was trying to figure out what was different when they get older...)

"But in the end," she said, "they all have the same needs."  They might feel sad.  Or sick.  Or be smart and require more challenging questions when talking. 

"And their ingrained first reaction, first way of communicating, usually came from their parents. Their first role models for how to communicate."  If a boy is quiet or shy, often you would find that a parent is the exact same way at home.  That's why it is important to put boys and girls together with a mix of communication skills. So they can learn from each other and make it safe to find new models.

Mom thought a little more about the differences.  Boys seemed happier.  Would joke around more.  Would talk on and not always realize they hurt someone because they were just talking anyway and didn't mean it.  Not much bothered them.

And then her voice became a bit more whisper-like, "I know I'm not supposed to have an opinion about this, but really I think it was sometimes easier to communicate with the boys." 

Laughing all the way home - Part II

See Part I yesterday for the context.  This Lesson from Mom was continued from my blog to e-mail in her own words...

The mother said "It was nothing bad."  When one of her girls was in third grade she came in for a conference because her girls were bickering and arguing a lot at home.  To make a long story, short she told me that I advised her to take turns inviting a friend over for each girl to play at home.  She did this and it worked.  The girls stopped bickering and arguing. And they made a good friend.  Whew, I didn't remember this and was glad that I had some sense back then.  I walked to the meat section looking for a roast and began shuffling the meat around to see what was in the back.  I commented to the meat manager as he was putting in fresh meat, and who also happened to be the father of a former student, that I would try not to make too big a mess with the meat.  He grinned and said they'd pick me up on the surveillance camera and get me there.  I said I'd slip out the door and try not to be caught. And we both laughed.  I went in the commercial entrance at Lowe's because it's faster. Asked Brian, a former student at the cash register, where to find the dowell rods.  I bought the rods and a small saw, walked to the register and said to Brian, "Now it's your turn to teach me something.  Would this saw work for the rods?"  After confirming the saw was OK, two parents of a former student walked to the register and we talked.  The father asked me what I was doing with the rods. I explained that they needed to be in pieces and Brian had advised me that I bought the correct saw.  Brian threw up his hands and said, "I don't know anything about that saw, really.  If it doesn't work just sue me!"  We all laughed and as I was walking to my car I was so glad that I had to shop this morning.  I laughed all the way to my car.  Don't ask me the moral to this story except be careful what you say and how you act:  someone is going to remember!!!!   Thanks for reading my story, nobody else would even be interested. (jill's note:  wanna bet? your daughter keeps a blog!)        Love,   MOM

Laughing all the way home - Part I

I've been so busy in a client leadership workshop through Saturday that it's a good thing my Mom has sent along her own words...first here's the comment she left on my blog earlier this year.  Then, in Part II, you'll get the whole story. That's coming tomorrow just for fun... and Wednesday you'll be stuck with just me and my thoughts (smile).  Warm regards, Jill

Hi Again.  Didn't know where to send this so.....I laughed all the way home from shopping at Krogers (grocery store) and Lowes (large do-it-yourself warehouse store) this morning.  In Krogers I ran into a NV mom (aka New Vienna where Mom taught school) and one of her three daughters I had in 3rd grade.  She asked me if my ears were burning.  I laughed and she said they had been talking about me this morning.  I said "Oh no, what did I do or not do?"   (Maybe this should be continued on your regular e-mail.)  To be continued on regular e-mail.  Love,  MOM

Dealing with difficult people

"There's always someone who doesn't want to live by rules," Mom says.  "You have to give him or her choices."  Let him move around if he can't sit still.  Look for activities that interest her...write it her way, read about it, talk with someone.  Sometimes it is hard to find a choice:  Do it now or stay in and do it when everyone else is outside playing for recess.

Choice is important because, at home, it may be different.  A parent may be domineering.  The child needs to feel that he or she has some freedom, some control. Not backed into a corner.

Mom moved quickly from the idea of dealing with difficult behavior to bringing out the desire to be cooperative.  It is important to catch all children being good sometimes, Mom said.  Not just the good students.  You can find a child being good by being a friend, being kind to someone, behaving, doing something helpful.

Mom said she used to give a ticket to a child who she caught "doing something good."  Later, the child could exchange the ticket for a piece of candy or other small prize from a jar.  "It really worked?" I asked.  It did, she said, "A kid will do anything for a Jolly Rancher."

The most important thing about communicating

On the phone right after the holidays, I finally thought to ask Mom a summarizing question:  So what would you tell a new teacher was most important about communicating with kids?

Like lightening, Mom said "I can give you that answer in four words!"  It's not a game show, I laughed.  But she was serious.  "Act like you care!" she said emphatically.  "Act like you care about all of the children.  Not just the good students.  Even the ones who can't learn easily.  Even the ones who smell like urine because the cat sleeps on their clothes.  The ones who have no friends. The ones who always have to break the rules."

Here I had unexpectecly touched a hot button.  "How does a teacher expect a child to feel about being in class if the teacher shows no interest in getting to know the child personally?"

And now I know why when I am out in my hometown with Mom it almost always happens that an adult walks up and, often with a shy grin, says "hello Mrs. Allemang!"  That person -- sometimes older than me in reality -- suddenly becomes a 4th grader again talking to a teacher who really knew him or her. Who thought he or she was important and relevant.  And Mom still remembers that fourth grader from class.  I know because she unfailingly asks a specific question. Even now, she wants to hear the answer.

Perhaps Mom really needs just one word to say what's most important: care.

Where to start when communicating

    Mom taught 4^th graders for more than 30 years.  Her school voted her “Teacher of the Year” twice shortly before she retired. I’ve often felt a bit in awe of her emotional strength that allowed her to face a class of 9 & 10 year-olds with their range of needs and energies every day.  She says she really enjoyed it.  Most of the time.  “I miss the kids, not the paperwork.”

     I asked what she did when kids in her class were not motivated to learn. I will remember her answer a long time:

     “You can tell when children walk in the door if something is wrong.  They might seem angry.  Or look like they just fell out of bed.  Or have forgotten things.  Or they might slam books or remotely sit with an unhappy look.  Or go pick-on someone.

      "The stress often comes from somewhere else.  Maybe an argument at home.  Sometimes you know the source – such as when a student’s father was dying.  Whether you know or not, it is important that you go to the child and ask about him or her.  'What did you do last night?'  'Did you get your homework done?'  'If not, what help do you need?'  And then give the student the help he or she needs."

       "First you have to ask and communicate or you do not find out anything."       

       The thing that struck me about Mom’s answer was that the purpose of communicating was a genuine desire to help make it possible to learn…beginning at the child’s starting point, not just the where the child was supposed to be in the class standard or process.

      Even with kids, Mom spoke to them first as individual, human people with human emotional experiences affecting their lives -- experiences that left unacknowledged could block bringing their best selves to the day.  And then the work of learning could start.  I think perhaps this principle of communicating should not be limited to 10-year-olds or classrooms...

Welcome 2007!

I'm officially back to work today, after a relaxing 10-day holiday break.  New for me...that I really take a break without checking e-mail or moving a project forward on the side.  I learned during my vacation last July to finally be present with friends and family through the entire holiday.  They appreciated seeing me without a phone attached to my ear and enthusiastically supported the "new Jill."  I hadn't realized how stressy the old Jill seemed to them -- she had to disappear before it was safe for them to tell me.  One of my great lessons of 2006!

Even during a break, I write a bit to relax.  Out of this scribbling will come my first posts for the year: a series of Lessons from Mom.  She visited me in Zurich for Christmas.  Great to have her here, especially as we continue to find new twists on family traditions since Dad died five years ago.

Between coffees and shopping, we talked about her 30-some years teaching 10-year olds in Ohio, USA.  I wrote a few of her ideas on napkins or whatever paper we could find in the moment.  She reminded me that the best approaches usually start with recognizing the human experience.

And that seems to me to be a good place to begin 2007.