Unsolicited – Some Of The Best Advice I Get

The Story

I was at the doctor’s office with my 3-year-old son the other day.  Actually, my wife and I were at the doctor’s office with our 3-year-old son and our 1-year-old daughter.  Turns out our little guy hit an impressive growth spurt.  The baby-ness has been falling away from this kid for a while, and now…he’s relatively long and lean.  He’s number two of three (with number four on the way), so we’ve been blessed with repeated opportunities to watch little ones grow.  It’s fun and exciting.  What’s not fun or exciting is being shouted at in the whiniest tone imaginable for three straight hours, culminating in a massive whiny fit while contained in the acoustically enhanced closet of an examination room we wait in for half an hour preceding our three minute consult.  I can thump a kid’s knee with a rubber mallet and look up his nose with a fancy little flashlight, but my wife insists that we let the professionals do it.  She’s probably right.

Now, I consider myself a somewhat tolerant and reasonably patient person, but by the time the doctor opened the door, Mr. long and lean was getting an earful (still screaming and throwing a fit by the way).  Have you ever been driven over the edge?  Me too.  I was wasn’t yelling or shaking the kid, just sternly insisting, “You have got to stop shouting now!”  By the way, that doesn’t work.  As the doctor walked in I turned to him and said, “I like to model extremely frustrated communication at times like these.”  Sarcasm.  He didn’t get it.  My wife and I had a nice moment.  Little guy continued shouting.  Enter the unsolicited advice.

“You know, it can be effective to simply ignore this kind of behavior.  If he doesn’t think it’s provoking you, he’s likely to stop.”  Thank you Dr. Zen Master Guru.  What a calm and unprovoked life you must be leading.  First of all, you clearly don’t know my child.  This love bug is the Energizer Bunny of whiny tantrums.  Second of all…what?  Are you kidding me?  Don’t you have some little rubber mallet, a fancy little flashlight, some knees, and a nose to attend to?  Every ounce of blood in my body rushed to very top of my head.  It tingled.  I forced a smile.  It probably looked strange, maybe even frightening, but it was the best that I could do.

As the examination unfolded our little guy continued.  He even augmented his fit with some dramatic flailing and guttural coughs, despite the fact that along with his little sister, every adult in the room was ignoring him.  Strange.  Our combination pediatrician/parenting coach repeated his stellar advice four times over the course of our three minutes.  I counted.  The blood remained at the top of my head.  If I were an orca, it might have shot out through my blowhole.

I felt strangely compelled to explain that my wife and I are reasonably intelligent people, each with at least moderately effective educations, that we have a combined seventy five years of experience as infants, toddlers, tweens, teens, young adults, and even adults on this earth, that we have been parenting collaboratively for five of those years, that we arguably do a decent job much of the time, that this is not our first go around with a whiny tantrum, that I’ve personally been studying and working in child development for about decade, and possibly most importantly…that we’re human beings.  I bit my tongue (for the most part).

All was well with the kid.  We left.  The receptionist handed him a sucker.  He stopped crying, fell silent immediately, and even smiled.  She’s good.

The Rub

Here’s the rub…it was actually decent advice.  I don’t entirely subscribe to the “just ignore him” theory, but it’s not horrible.  My wife and I agree on more active communication, and we’ve had extensive conversations about how to proceed with this particular child, but why not listen and learn when the opportunity presents itself.  We’re not perfect (I’m not…she certainly closer).  Our kid’s doctor was giving us an opportunity to further consider the parenting strategies we choose, to see through his lens, and to think about shifting our energy.

In reflection, I can see that this was also a good chance for me to become increasingly tolerant of unsolicited advice, a good skill for a public school administrator.  Furthermore, unsolicited advice might be the best kind of advice available.  It often comes when it’s least expected, and when the advice-giver perceives an elevated need.  Right or wrong, that’s a worthwhile perception to contemplate if you’re interested in positive progress, learning, and growth.  It’s all right to not adapt your thinking and/or your actions to suit any given advice, but why not take it?  Also from the standpoint of a public school administrator, I get no shortage of unsolicited advice.  Part of my job is not only to accept all of it with humility but also to consider it with authenticity.  If I am genuinely seeking to understand and serve each stakeholder in my learning community (and I am), I must truly consider each stakeholder’s perspective.

Value The Giver

To tell a family secret, baked goods go directly to my middle.  Because of this genetic inconvenience, I don’t eat every birthday treat that comes across my desk.  I do accept each one.  I could be mistaken, but it seems that accepting the treat adds to the kid’s birthday excitement.  It substantiates the experience.  It shows that I am an active participant in the exchange.  Arguably, we all might be well served to push for more carrots and fewer cupcakes, but in the meantime, participation in the exciting thoughts, ideas, and moments of other’s lives can enhance relationships, perpetuating positive progress, individual and shared growth, and constructive cultures of collaboration.

Value The Opportunity

Sometimes I do eat the treat.  When I do, and it’s good, I’m glad I did.  I’m of the opinion that an occasional treat can enhance a person’s life.  I have also come to believe that advice doesn’t have to initially present as “good” in order for it to enhance a person’s life.  If you occasionally lean toward stubbornness like me, it often doesn’t present that way initially.  However, if you’re old like me, you might realize that rumination and reflection, when done thoughtfully, can correct the ills of stubbornness.  First impressions are often skewed when it comes to unsolicited advice.  As an educational, organizational, and/or community leader, it’s important to value both the giver and the advice.

Valuing the giver enhances the relationship, and valuing the advice enhances the learning.  In all of my roles…husband, father, son, brother, friend, principal, and individual seeking to reach, amplify, and even exceed my potential, “take it or leave it” hasn’t proven effective – “taking it” is essential.  When I’m at my best, I am able to process any and all advice through a frame of “use it or file it.”  That way, even if I don’t see its value, I have it in my toolbox for when my potential does become amplified, and my vision becomes more clear.

New Admin Advice

Thoughtfulness and patience are key traits of effective leaders.  Work hard to develop them.

Accept any and all advice.  Even if it doesn’t seem useful now, it could prove to be later.

Focus on valuing the people you serve, even through occasional self-perpetuating frustration.  Healthy relationships enhance learning.

Eat a really good cupcake every once in a while.

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Dream Big.  Work Hard.  Be Well.

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