There’s a really big blow up slide at the bounce gym where several of my kids’ friends have been having their birthday parties lately.  It seems that we’re there all the time.   The slide has a nearly vertical climbing path on one side and a pretty darn steep, very slick, inflated plastic run on the other.  There’s virtually no possible way to injure one’s self on this particular slide, because it’s big and puffy, and filled with air.  You don’t actually bounce while you’re going down the thing, but it is a bouncy slide.  If you have little children (or have ever been to one’s birthday party) you know what I’m talking about.  If you don’t (or haven’t), it’s not something terribly hard to imagine.  It’s a gigantic, colorful, steep blow-up slide.

The thing is, some children fear this beast.  My oldest son is one of them.  Other children (lot’s in fact) find it fun and exciting.  At any given moment, droves of tiny people scramble their way up to the top, they tumble and slide their way down to bottom, and they tend laugh and cheer all the while.  There’s typically a crowd of little bodies piled up at the bottom…roaring in wholehearted delight.

For some reason, even though it rarely seems like he intends to give it a go, my son finds it necessary to climb to the top during each bounce party we attend.  There he sits, perched aloft what he conceptualizes as a brutish piece of equipment, staring down for a few minutes with folded arms and a scowling face.  Then, he either forces tears or deepens the scowl.  I ask if he’d like me to climb up so that we can slide down together.  Hyper focused on the dramatic overtures, he neglects to answer.  I proceed to ascend the climbing path, swarmed by the giggling masses.  Twice I’ve overlooked the wearing of socks and had to purchase some wonderfully cozy and profitably priced branded socks sold at the front desk for those of us who do forget.  You pay for quality.  Following the ascent I slide down with my kid and any number of other’s who care to join us.  We dismount at the bottom, shake it off, and move to the next apparatus joyfully.

Over the course of the birthday party tour, there have been variations of that account, and some even have my son displaying degrees of bouncy slide courage, but for the most part he’s particular about how high he climbs, how far he slides, how fast he goes, and various other sundry stuff he does, eats, touches, looks at, etc.  He’s the slightest bit quirky in that way.  Filled with character I must admit.  Incidentally, so am I.  While I have wondered about some of my more unique blessings along a spectrum of consternation and gratitude, I’ve grown to understand that not only is it all right, but it’s important to recognize, and even be comfortable with my uniqueness…even in the form of limitations.

Understanding and appreciating one’s limitations, while possibly perceived as a detriment to some, has served as a path-clearer for me; a roadblock-smasher if you will.  I’m increasingly less stuck on the things that I can’t or don’t want to do as I get older, and that seems to open spaces in my life for the things I can and do want to do.  Occasionally, through a targeted focus on my ever-developing abilities and motivations, I even surprise myself by accepting, enjoying, and even crushing challenges in ways I didn’t know I could.  Having some sense of my limitations helps me understand that where I find any bit of potential, it’s likely to be more of a bit than I initially thought.  My imagination for, and my excitement over exponential possibilities, tends to grow as I do.

In places where my limitations don’t feel right, I’m learning how to turn to strengths as tools, catalysts, and overcoming-mechanisms.  The key for me is being aware of what truly matters in my life.  I do that in large part by relying heavily on my core value system.  I constantly ask myself if any given challenge that I’m facing might bring me closer to living with joy, to serving with integrity, to highlighting happiness for myself and those around me, to perpetuating a process by which those in my life and learning community feel safe, valued, and excited about individual and collective positive progress.

As I face and feed my potential through reading, writing, discussing, acting, reflecting, adapting, and believing, I work really hard to stay focused on the things that prove meaningful to me.  I work equally hard to stay open to the idea that new & equally meaningful things can make their way into my life each day.  By the way, I don’t always do it right…in fact, far from it.  I can sight several occasions, even in recent days, in which frustration got the better of me, or lingering immaturity reared its ugly head in one way or another, or exhaustion won over patience and calm.  That’s all a part of the deal.  We human beings get the elation that comes along with learning and growth, and we also get the sting of fallibility, imperfection, and weakness.  It’s simply part of the package, and it too is all right.  It’s cool.  It better be.  That’s precisely what I’m writing about now.  I’m better when I recognize, accept, seek to understand, and appreciate my humanity.  I’m a dreamer, a somewhat naive optimist, and a true believer in the exceeding of potential.  As I visualize and work toward exciting and exceptional things for myself and for those I serve, I find that coming around to grounded-ness every so often is good practice.

I’m trying really hard to help my son understand that we each have strengths, and that we’re each challenged by many things.  Sometimes we overcome our challenges quickly, sometimes we overcome them slowly, and sometimes we decide that overcoming particular challenges might not be worthwhile (as limited as our time seems to be).  I’m trying to help him understand that with all of our similarities, no two people are identical.  In one moment he might be wishing that he could ride the slide like some of his friends, and in another moment, some of his friends might be wishing that they could do the robot dance like him (you’ve got to see it to believe it).  It’s during difficult moments that we feel the difficulty of the moments.  Stepping back, being thoughtful, seeking to understand our motivations and ourselves, working to find where and how we fit in this world, and taking things one step at time, can enhance all of our struggles and celebrations.

How this reflection might help me help kids learn and grow:  I have emotions over seeing my children struggle.  I have emotions over seeing any children struggle.  As a parent and an educator, I want to see all children succeeding in joyful and fulfilling ways.  As a person with some grey hairs in my beard and some more on my head, I get that life ain’t always easy.  I also get that while many things are out of my control, some are not.  I believe that every single child is capable.  I am the kind of father and principal who thinks that we need to help children reach and exceed their potential.  I understand that if someone’s potential can be exceeded, that it wasn’t truly his or her potential to begin with, but I think we function in phases.  Each milestone reached is the key to our amplified capacity.  I believe that we don’t truly know what we’re capable of until we challenge ourselves to try, and that when we do we often find that we’re capable of so much more.

From a parenting and educational leadership perspective, I believe we’re serving our children well when we…

…model optimism

…support them in going for broke and in consciously changing direction

…help them identify and appreciate their uniqueness

…expose our strengths and limitations in realistic, developmentally appropriate, and positive ways

…provide them with limitless opportunities to explore their curiosities

…express authentic appreciation for their passions

…encourage the directions that their unfolding interests and abilities lead them in

…care without judgment

…push, and know when to stop pushing

…listen well, learn with intention, find ways to let them lead

 

Dream Big.  Work Hard.  Be Well.