Curiosity>Competition

Lately, I’ve been decompressing from the stress of the day by doing one of two things:

1. Playing Candy Crush on my phone.
2. Binge watching the show “Younger” on Netflix which conveniently has seven seasons of 25 minute episodes. Chef’s kiss!

I’m not really a gamer and honestly, not usually one for romantic comedy series. So, what’s the deal? I honestly don’t know, ha. But what I can share is that trying new things often leads to new perspectives. Even if those new activities don’t require you to leave your home let alone your couch.

I can’t believe I’m writing a post with a focus on Candy Crush, but I’m making some connections between playing the game and well, playing the game of life.

1. Competition can grow us but curiosity will take us further in the end.

To start, Candy Crush is way more fun for me when I don’t enter myself in any competitions. You can play just to play or you can compete against others. When I’m “competing” against strangers on the internet, I find that my enjoyment of the game is subdued. It’s still fun, but it’s different. Instead of playing for the sole sake of the experience, I find myself wondering where I am in the pack.

I can’t help but think about connections between this and playing the game of school. When high schoolers take courses based on their interests and desired futures, these courses can be incredibly rewarding and meaningful. The opposite is also true. When they take courses for the sole purpose of advancing their class rank, this can be demotivating. I wrote about this in Legacy of Learning. In a previous school district, I led a district committee comprised of parents, counselors, administrators, and teachers. We looked at the way we were weighting grades, whether class rank was truly needed on transcripts for colleges, and considered the ways we were honoring student achievements at graduation. I’m not trying to say that everyone needs to do this work or to make the kind of decisions we made. But what I am saying is that we are right to ask these kinds of questions. As George Couros says in his book, The Innovator’s Mindset, “If students leave less curious than when they started, we have failed them.”

The same is true in the education profession regarding competition. Sure, some competition can be healthy and motivating. However, if I am more focused on performing better than the teacher next door than I am on being a curious learner myself, will my work be as fun? Will I make the kind of impact that I hoped to make when I entered this noble profession? The best of us care about growing the rest of us.

When I compare my work to my counterparts, that can be a great growth opportunity but if I spend too much time there, suddenly my critical thinking skills wane. Let’s not be so consumed by what our counterparts are doing or on that “like-district” down the street that we lose our ability to think critically about what can impactful work we can do for our community. There is a special kind of happiness that comes from doing work we believe in with people we enjoy. If we have that, and I do, let’s not forget to be grateful for it and to nurture that as much as we can.

2. Strategy is important but let’s not avoid risk all together. Key moments of risk-taking can take us to the next level.

I’m learning little tricks to advance to harder levels Candy Crush. Some tricks seem to work well in most levels. Others seem only transferable to similar levels. And then sometimes, I have no idea how I beat a level. I won’t be able to replicate it. Or can I? Sometimes, the strategy isn’t necessarily a strategy but a hope and a prayer. It’s merely a matter of what we are willing to sacrifice with failure. Obviously, Candy Crush is low stakes by name alone. But if I was so obsessed with beating strangers in the game on the internet, then I may not be willing to just “go for it” with some of the moves I make. I may not be willing to say, “Sure, let’s use this last life and roll the dice today.” Sometimes this approach pays off, other times, I have to wait minutes to get more “lives” and try again.

But I think there is something to this after a failure. So often, when kids fall off the bike, we make them get right back on. Or when people don’t get a job opportunity, we tell them to get right back out there. I’m not here to speak in absolutes. Often, yes, that can be a great approach. But what if there are times when we need to take a moment? What if the situation calls for us to step away for a bit? Sometimes a little space from our work, a hard conversation, that tough email, that mistake we made, can provide us with the clarity we needed. Sometimes a break can lead to more meaningful reflection and a more productive response. This often proves challenging in schools because everything SEEMS to come at us so quickly. However, not everything is as urgent as it sometimes seems. Perhaps stepping away, coming back with more calm and clarity helps move a situation that was a bit stuck and mired because our response is now more practical and restorative.

There are moments in the classroom and schoolhouse when we don’t have this luxury, but we can still practice Mosquito Moves (a chapter title from Legacy of Learning.) Have you ever been in a tough meeting or situation in the classroom where you can feel yourself being triggered? Some of us get red in the face or our necks get hot and blotchy. Others feel a lump in their throat or like they are on the verge of tears. In my case, I have a vein that literally pops out of my temple! Knowing when we are triggered is one of the most essential skills we bring to schools. Escalated adults can’t deescalate kids or other adults for that matter.

I recently attended a Women in Leadership conference. We were offered many strategies to give ourselves a minute when we can feel this bubbling to the surface. One being to simply take a sip of water. It’s amazing what giving yourself just one or two more seconds can do for you as you work to collect yourself, your thoughts, your emotions, and your response. I really wish I would have had this water sipping strategy available before blurting out to a team of principals, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Because I really didn’t, ha. But that kind of response certainly doesn’t foster a sense of “let’s figure this out together.”

And let’s not forget that not every comment or behavior requires a response from us. In the moments when we get stuck and are unsure of what to do or say next, “Tell me more about that” is a response that can invite clarity on the speaker’s true intent while simultaneously giving you a moment to figure out what you will do next.

3. It doesn’t always work out the way we thought it would. Sometimes it’s better.

I mentioned that I’ve been watching the show “Younger.” I won’t even get into the premise because it will sound ridiculous if you haven’t watched the show. Last night, I couldn’t sleep, so I turned on the finale. Throughout the many seasons of the show, while torn at times, I had a pretty good idea of how I wanted it to end. I knew who I wanted to end up together romantically and what I wanted to happen with the publishing company.

Pretty much none of what I thought I wanted to see happen – happened. And I’m glad. It was so much better. It was unpredictably better. It was better in a way that provided deeper insight into each character and their hopes and dreams. I couldn’t see the ending coming, and I’m glad. There are so few surprises in this world, and when it’s a good surprise, there’s something about that which makes us feel alive and grateful.

Maybe it’s not turning out how you planned right now.

But maybe it will turn out better than you imagined.

I want that for you.

I want that for all of us.