AdvanceBlog

This blog marks the one-year anniversary of blogging for Measurable Advancement.  While our Forbes feature story lies somewhere in our future, during this past year we have chartered a course of steady progress and exceptional foundation building.

Whether it is called launching a business, building a brand, or transitioning your dreams into reality, these tasks are not for the faint-hearted.  To peer into the unknown and fashion something tangible and successful requires blessings and courage.  Yet, the most complicated, intimidating object blocking your success is looking back at you in the mirror.

Have you ever noticed the small message that appears on the bottom of the mirror of most cars?

OBJECTS IN THE MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR.

Well, that message doesn’t singularly ring true for drivers.  It is applicable to dreamers, would-be risk-takers, and others standing on the brink of possibility.  When looking in the mirrors of life, the objects or obstacles in your view are closer than they appear.  The object blocking your growth, the obstacle to your success, the object obstructing your eventual happiness is you.

Micah was tyrannical.  His mother warned me but I didn’t take heed. However, once he came bursting into our class on the first day of school, I knew it – he was the one.  The one for whom I would renew my subscription to Grey Hair Gradually.  The one of whom my dentist would warn, “you have to stop gritting your teeth.” The one of whom veteran teachers would say, “He helped you earn your stripes.”

That first day was a half-day of which while explaining classroom procedures, I had the fortune of introducing the time-out chair to the class with Micah in it.  In fact, in the absence of students, I began to refer to him as that Darn Micah.  Micah was only five.  He was the baby boy of a hard-working mother who doubled as a full-time graduate student.  It was her hope that I could be a positive role model for Micah.  It was my hope that our district would temporarily re-instate corporal punishment.

Yet for all the anxiety he induced, Micah was not the problem.  The problem, the obstacle, the object that was closer than it appeared was me, or more specifically, my perception of Micah.  My perception of Micah was that he was a disruption, a spoiled anarchist whose purpose was to cause chaos and mayhem within my class.  My perception is what prompted the shortness of breath each morning after his arrival.  My perception is what led me to believe it was entirely his fault.  My perception was erroneous and ironically shortsighted.

Simone was one of my favorites.  In Simone, I saw attributes of a daughter I then hoped to one day have.  It was also Simone who brought me face to face with the fallacy of my perception.  Simone inquired, “Why hasn’t Micah been the Mastermind of the Day?”

I called my class, Masterminds, so that they could feel positively encouraged.  The Mastermind of the Day was my strategy for awarding and reinforcing positive behaviors and was an opportunity for students to feel good about themselves.  In my eyes / perception, Micah hadn’t earned the right to be the Mastermind of the Day.  But in response to Simone’s inquiry, I improvised a blueprint for the transformation of my perception.  I verbalized three things that Micah could do to become Mastermind of the Day.

In a true case of the students providing the lessons, Micah’s classmates rallied behind him the next day.  At every instance of the day, they encouraged, prodded, and reminded Micah of what he must do to be the Mastermind of the Day.  With each encouragement, I could feel a sledgehammer to my misperception.  By the end of the day, with the full support of his classmates, Micah had earned the distinction of being Mastermind of the Day.  His teacher learned that misperception distorts the ability to reach, to love, and to teach a child.  When I looked in the mirror of my instruction, the object that was closer than it appeared, the obstacle to my success, the obstruction to my effectiveness was my own misperception of a student.

On a humorous note – a few weeks later after my perception had changed, Micah’s transformation was not as monumental.  After allegedly taking one of his classmate’s materials, I said, “Micah the two worst things you could be is a liar or a thief.”  To which Micah responded, “I ain’t no thief!!”  Hilarity ensued.