A Question

Consider the statement "leaders manage an organization's or a team's boundaries."

How do leaders tighten, loosen, or redraw boundaries?

I'm visualizing a corral, to be honest. Fence'em in and guide'em a bit, but otherwise let'em do what they need to do.

You aren't managing the people, you're managing the behavior. Seems to me that such a management tactic should work because you aren't telling people what they must do. They know what they must do, it's up to them to decide how to get from A to M to Z.

You're giving autnomy within boundaries.

Easier said then done, I know. So how does one do when behavior patterns are already firmly established and entrenched? Pulling the boundaries inward without people's resentment and their pushing back is going to -- I suppose -- require a degree of stealth without being underhanded.

Any suggestions, readers?

That's the POINT!

Within hours of my last post, I got the best e-mail EVER. It was the "what if" e-mail, the one reminding me to be careful and cover my behind. Be careful, my friend wrote.

I want to be effective, not careful, I happily fired back, thrilled that I was getting such a response.

I'm no longer a stewardess, gang. I'm done being careful when it comes at the price of what can be accomplished.

I am more then capable of creating a schedule and sticking to it, just as I am more then capable of setting standards and keeping them. It's just time to live up to those "am capables."

To accomplish those, however, I have to know that there are a lot of "what ifs" out there. I cannot, however, keep letting them (okay, most of them!) dictate my policies.

What if I lose a day due to snow? What if I get off track and fall behind? What if someone brings in a valid doctor's excuse?

Okay. I adjust. I deal.

What I do not have to do -- and this is the "unreasonable" part -- is plan for them in such a way that I end up setting myself up to let them happen.

(Another part of being "unreasonable" is being nimble, being flexible. It kicks you right out of your comfort zone, to be honest, but -- what the heck -- isn't that part of the fun?)

Here we go again...

Unreasonable is ignoring conventional wisdom.

Unreasonable is questioning why things that are considered normal are
considered normal, and then figuring out how they really should be.

Unreasonable is about thinking thoughts without editing them so as to be unreasonable.

I finally finished Lemberg's Be Unreasonable. The lines above come from Appendix A, "Unreasonable Summarized."

I like these three best.

Years ago, I asked my mother why re-arranging the living room was so difficult. She replied that the goal was to make the television easy to see from as many angles as possible. My ill-timed and poorly-worded (trust me, it was both) question was "why are you so obsessed with that stupid box?"

Let's just chalk that experience up as one of my first forays into "unreasonable-ness," and let's also know that I've improved when it comes to wording and tact.

So rather then turn my eyes on others, it's time for some self-reflection.

UNreasonable is ignoring conventional wisdom.
Conventional wisdom. So far, I've been trying to figure out just what "conventional" really is when it comes to the classroom. I've discovered, you see, that what makes sense to me is not the same for others -- and, of course, that comes down to personal style as well as training.

For example, I can't stand the idea of using elementary- or secondary-level activities with adults. I'm very conscious of not making my students feel as if they're in "13th grade."

Conventional wisdom, though, somehow seems to demand that we engage our students in such activities despite themselves.

I have a few tricks in my bag to engage the student learner, most of which involve small groups and discussion topics. I've learned that, generally, they do enjoy being subdivided and handed worksheets -- provided that the "worksheets" allow for personal opinion as well as fact.

I refuse to hand out skeletal outlines, reading guides, and cutsie games. I officially tossed out the "resource file" from college... the one filled with clever little activities to get the students up and out of their seats. I do not do handstands or verbal dance routines.

I now "unreasonably" lecture for a little bit each day. They, the students, want me to. I unreasonably listen to the customer over the experts, knowing that the two ought to be the same anyway.

I unreasonably make it a point to ignore learning styles at times. Employers will. For all the empowerment and nurturing that some engage in, addressing the learning style of every employee is simply too cumbersome and, depending on the job, sometimes impossible. My students need to learn how to adjust to whoever the instructor is, whether at work or in school.

It seems unreasonable to send my students into the world thinking that their employers will change to suit them.

UNreasonable is questioning why things that are considered normal are considered normal, then figuring out how they really should be.

Why do we have dress codes? Why can't we put flextime in place? What if we quit accepting excuses? What if we tightened up our attendance policy? What can we standardize? Destandardize? What if we added one more chapter to the materials covered this term? What if we tried what others are trying -- even if it's not working there, it might work here.

Things should be a lot of ways. Most of the time we want to employ adjectives such as smooth, easy, calm, and organized. But what if we didn't make organized a requirement? What if calm equated with mundane?

Right now, I'm drinking tea while I sit in my cube. Right now, I'm not working. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. I'm calm and unhurried. Those are, frankly, two healthy adjectives for any human.

I'm pondering as I write, and I've decided that the question I have to pose is this: why do I insist on building one or two days into my schedule as "cushions"? They are there "in case I lose a day" somewhere. They are great excuses to allow myself to fall behind, to be slightly less prepped, and to go off on tangents.

To practice what I preach: next term, no cushion.

Thus, I have to be ready for every class and disciplined enough to keep myself on task. If I don't, if I'm not, I won't cover all of the material.

UNreasonable is about thinking thoughts without editing them so as to be reasonable.
I want the fairy tale.

I want the classroom where taking notes and paying attention come first and texting friends comes second. I want cell phones OFF, and I never want to see another doctor's excuse for as long as I teach. I want classes where there is a 100% passing rate of every exam. I want a term where the only "F" given is when I write fantastic work.

I've decided to see what I can do about all of those wants.

Admittedly, I'm getting there was a few of them. Prior to leaving my last job, I had exactly one failed exam out of five weeks and four courses. I'm at the point where cell phones do not ring in class, though they do vibrate. The last time I saw a doctor's excuse was last January.

Everything is a gradual process, helped by one's professional reputation, demeanor, and experience. (Those lovely contracts that I hand out help, too.)

Simply put: some expectations should not be flexible.

___________________________________


What I like best about all this is that it really does fall on me first and the students second. Being "unreasonable" makes me stretch myself at both personally and professionally, which is really how it should be. I have to walk that talk, so to speak, if I want my students to follow and be equally "unreasonable."

Come THIS Monday

My nerves are no longer shot. Just frayed. And only a little bit.

Tomorrow I teach. I'm as ready as I can be. Now it just remains to be seen how the classroom dynamic will play out.

My first discussion question is ready: Why Are You Here?

What makes you get up every day and comes to school? What gets you to sit in a class that you might not feel necessary? What is it that drives you to finish your degree? Don't tell me you're here because it's on your schedule or because someone is kicking you out of bed each morning. Tell me why you decided to change your life and go back to school.

I'm going to make them write it down for me as well as say it aloud.

I'm not playing fair, if the truth be known. This question taps into their intrinsic motivators. The answers are always the same: my children, my family, my self-esteem, my need to prove someone wrong, my desire to support myself...

Even the answer "a better paycheck" has a root in either providing for dependents or in improving one's life and thus sense of self.

Once they give their answers, I'll hit them with the challenge: when you wake up tomorrow or next month and find that staying in bed is easier then facing whatever headache life just hit you with, remember what you just told me.

Then I'll encourage them to keep the reasons they just wrote and either carry the paper with them or hang it where it can be seen regularly. While I avoid the cheesy and cliched as much as possible, and I admit that this smacks of cliches, I never doubt the power of the written word; so if I'm going to not play fair to begin with, I'm going to go all out. Schmaltzy and all.

Fact is that once they write and articulate their reasons, there's no (mentally) going back.

That's typically all I have to say on that since there's no need to mimic a guilt trip, and I go on with housekeeping duties of day one in the classroom. I've discovered that letting it sink in -- rather then hitting them over the head -- works best, and I've also discovered that the classes which write their reasons down have higher passing rates.

We'll see if the trend continues, won't we?

For those wondering how I survived last week... let's just say that it was somewhere between very, very long and much too short. Orientating oneself to a new workplace is always a challenge, no matter who you are. I did well enough, I think. I'm learning the names of my colleagues and putting them to faces. I have just about all of the supplies I'll need for the upcoming term. I'm prepped. I'm ready.

Eleven hours and counting.