The stories we tell shape our world
An excerpt from The Facilitator, my forthcoming book
The words we speak and write are not neutral. They become the building blocks of our neighborhoods, our communities, our schools, our countries… and of ourselves. Whether chosen intentionally or carelessly, they shape how we see the world and how we show up in it, every single day.
This book is focused primarily on young people, not just how we can better support them in building lives of purpose, but how we can truly listen to and learn from them. I’ve had the privilege of building alongside thousands of young people, and their stories deserve to be heard.
But before I share more of theirs, I need to share some of mine. Because my stories shape how I work. They shape how I mentor, coach, and build alongside young people. They’ve shaped what I believe is possible –with them, for them and for all of us. They’ve shaped my definition of The Facilitator, a powerful, necessary role that I believe more of us can and should take on.
I’d encourage anyone who has young people in their life — educators, community members, parents, mentors — to pause and reflect on your own stories. What did growing up mean to you? What was it like to be a teenager? What did you believe adulthood would look like? What felt possible? What didn’t?
Those stories are shaping how you show up right now.
I saw the power of this firsthand during my early years as a Dream Director at High School in the Community. It was early in the school year, yet was beyond the initial hopeful energy of September; the frustration of October was settling in. The topics of frustration amongst the staff were around student conduct, specifically tardiness/absenteeism and a general lack of urgency from young people to “get to class.” The school’s leadership team and I had planned for me to lead a session on passion and purpose in the classroom – Important work, without question.
But after sitting in the previous Monday meeting, and having dozens of conversations with my colleagues, the tone of declining optimism and growing frustration was too loud to ignore. I needed to pivot my PD session.
I opened the 75-minute session by telling a story about who I was in high school. From the outside, I looked steady and in control, showing up the way teachers, coaches and peers expected me to. Internally, it was a different story. I was navigating grief, fear, insecurity, uncertainty. I was on an emotional rollercoaster, all the while grinning and bearing it. Until I couldn’t anymore. My senior year, that collision almost got me suspended from school and kicked off the basketball team.
After sharing that, I asked the team to reflect:
Who were you in high school?
What were you actually focused on?
What were you carrying that others couldn’t see?
How did you feel about the world around you?
We started in small groups. Then we shared as a whole. As several courageous colleagues shared who they were in high school, connections occurred and empathy grew. Not sure for each other in the room, but for the young people in the hallways and classrooms. Why? Because we remembered that we were once the very young people we were feeling challenged by. With this in mind, we broke out into grade-level teams and strategized on how we might engage with students around their engagement in and out of the classroom given our renewed understanding. We didn’t solve everything that day, and some of the initiatives shared were successful, while others weren’t; some were committed, and some weren’t. And while the shift was dramatic or flashy, it was impactful. Throughout my nine years at HSC, several of the most veteran teachers at the school regularly shared how much that moment stuck with, and how often the reminded themselves of the stories of their lives that shape who they are as an educator, which then shapes how they engage with young people, and those young people’s experience.
In the chapters ahead, I’ll share some of the stories and lessons that have shaped my approach to working with young people and the adults that work with young people. These aren’t the only stories that matter, but they are the ones that most deeply influence how I mentor, coach, collaborate, and lead.
Our stories matter to how we live our lives, and they matter to the lives of our young people. They shape what we believe about young people. They shape how quickly we move to frustration or to curiosity. They shape whether we lead out of fear or possibility.
Let’s get clear on our stories, finding the ones that can be motivating, inspiring, and clarifying. And let’s get to work telling them and leading with them.