Leggo my Ego
In the past 2 years or so, I've done a lot of work on my ego. (Yes, I realize it sounds self-centered to even utter those words, but stay with me, OK?)
In the work I do as an assistant principal in a primary school, I am regularly putting out behavioral fires. My team and I help dysregulated kiddos, oftentimes those who need removed from the classroom so that the teachers can continue educating the rest of the class. I could (but won't) tell some pretty intense stories of students mired in trauma and conflict. My goal, and the goal of my team, is to do what is best for kids. This means letting go of the ego and staying humble. Oh, and believe me, kids will keep you humble.
There have been times when I've worked with a student for over an hour, then my school counselor walks in and says some of the same things I've been saying, & suddenly, bam! it works, the kid hears her and responds. There have been times when just the presence of one of my interventionists changes the whole tone of a situation for the better because of a connection they have with a kid. There have been times when I've been that "magical" person to bring about change for a student who really just wants their mom, but I'll do for now. Each and every time, my team and I simply send a word of thanks up to the universe, because we want what is best for kids, especially kids in distress.
Kids also keep you humble because they tell it like it is. One time, a 2nd grader told me (when angry about something else, but I was the closest, safe target), "You know you are getting fat, right?" (I was.) Or it's Picture Day, so you put some effort in, and a kid will say, "Whoa, Dr. Clark, you look really different today." Yep, called out. Kids don't play. You may think, "Awwww! Primary school! How darling!" Nope --You need some tough skin if you are going to work with kids, my friends.
And thus, part of my ego work has been foisted upon me against my will -- do you want to make a difference or not, Clark? Because sometimes, making a difference for a kid means you have "failed" and someone else has "succeeded." (Of course those terms are nearly meaningless, hence the quotes.)
On a personal level, however, my ego work has been intentional. I have learned not to trust my ego -- she tells me lies, makes mountains out of molehills, and consistently gets in the way of the real work of life. I've developed a meditation practice, which helps me recognize that not every thought I have deserves the weight or time it demands. I've gathered a group of wise voices around me (God Bless the Internet) to help me gain a broader perspective, which leads to questioning the ego when she shows up, throwing her entitled weight around. I started a practice of writing Letters from Unconditional Love (which I'll expand upon in a future post, but for now, if you are intrigued, check out Liz Gilbert here, on The Good Life Project podcast), and I journal on a regular basis to foster reflection on what is true and what might be just ego.
Friends, I'm not going to lie -- this has been hard work. Nearly everything in our culture supports the ego. Awards, titles, recognition, likes, retweets, shares -- food for the ego. Promotions, paychecks, endorsements -- fodder for the ego. Feeling left out, not tagged, uninvited, unfriended -- fuel for the ego's rage.
I am better for this hard work. My team is better for it. My students are better for it.
But here's the thing -- it can be very disorienting when you go from working with a team that regularly says, "Ha! There ain't no ego in this game," to an environment that still worships the hierarchy, where folks in charge view distributive leadership as a threat. I'm part of a community organization, for example, where we talk about wanting to improve and say we have a high standard of quality, but recently, I brought concerns to the attention of people who would make things better -- and even explicitly said that I was not here to complain, but to seek out ways to improve, and I found myself stunned by the defensive response I received. Instead of, "Hey, Denise, thanks for bringing this up. It doesn't always feel good to have our flaws brought to light, but it's how we grow. Let's brainstorm how to improve going forward," the focus was on how I pointed out mistakes.
Sigh. I forgot my context. Not everyone is ready for the work, for the hard work of self-examination. It's ugly, messy, hard, awful work. We would much rather tell ourselves what a great job we are doing. We'd rather see someone who contradicts us as the enemy. It's human nature.
Here's the thing -- you can't force another person to be ready for ego work, and sometimes, you just have to (to borrow a phrase from Jen Hatmaker) "Bless & Release" these folks. We have a limited amount of time to make a difference in this world, on this planet (that I am aware of, at least), and we need to decide how best to spend our time and resources. It can feel sad, but if the timing isn't right, it isn't right.
The solution I've found is to find my people, those who push me to be better and aren't afraid to call me out when I could do better -- because they know I want that and will receive it -- and focus your energies where those people and causes are. Maybe your efforts will be valued later, maybe they won't. The gift of age and wisdom is knowing how to move on.
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