When someone buys something, it’s because they value it more than the dollars they’re paying.

And for the person selling it, it’s worth less than the dollars they will receive.

Somehow, through the magic of the transaction, more value is created for both parties than was present before. It’s a win-win.

Ideally, it’s the same dynamic in an employer-employee relationship. If I choose to work for a company, it’s because what I am getting in return is worth more to me than my time. Simultaneously, I am producing more value for the company than I’m being paid for. It’s an exchange that creates mutual benefit.

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Aspiring (or failed) guitarists often tell me of their troubles with strumming.

“I never could get the hang of it,” they’ll say, no matter how long they’ve been trying.

They think the problem is strumming. And they’ve probably sought help from a guitar teacher with the intent of resolving this strumming problem. However, I know the reason it didn’t work. It’s because their problem is actually their chord changes.

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When my choir first began learning Benjamin Britten’s “Rejoice in the Lamb,” I’m sure I wrinkled my nose — if not in disgust, exactly, then certainly in confusion. 

The angular melodies, abrupt changes in time, the seemingly nonsensical poem that comprised the lyrics — none of it made sense to this high school singer who had grown accustomed to 19th century opera choruses and quietly pretty folk song settings. This was weird and bold and sometimes defiantly ugly, challenging to the ear and the intellect. 

That’s exactly why I fell in love with it — eventually. It grew on me.

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Imagine the circuitry of your brain as a network of roads in a city.

The well-worn paths eventually become major highways, whereas the seldom-used ones don’t even rate a yellow line down the middle.

When you are trying to learn something new — when you are trying to change — it’s like trying to get somewhere that the main roads won’t take you.

Maybe your new route isn’t even paved — it’s covered with vegetation and you have to use a machete to hack through.

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One day in March, a parent came to visit The Little Middle School to see if it would be a good fit for her child.

She sat in on a high-level discussion in which students were making plans for our spring trip.

When she left, she said, “My kid can’t do this.”

Maybe she was right. But what I wanted to say was, “It’s March!”

Our students had been learning together since August — almost eight months of growth. What she was seeing isn’t where they started.

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