“The whole purpose of education is to turn mirrors into windows.”

–     Sydney J. Harris, Chicago newspaper columnist (1917-1986)

The Three go “back to school” tomorrow.  First time taking the bus.  First “first day of school” in their new home town.  First day of the last year of middle school for one, first day of the last day of elementary for another.  First day of second grade for the youngest.

Firsts.

When did we stop having them?

My intent upon leaving the farm was to become a teacher.  In a classroom, not a boardroom.  And, on this eve of the first day of school, I find myself wondering what it feels like for the great teachers.  I have a feeling we all know what it feels like for the weaker ones; “end of a long vacation,” “back to the grind” of dealing with another group of “spoiled kids whose parents expect us to raise them,” — all the cynicism that should be saved for those of us who chose less noble careers.  It’s not them that I wonder about.  I wonder about the teachers who’d do it for less, even though they’re doing it for less than they ought to.  I wonder about the teachers who will hit the pillow tonight with a sense of awe and anticipation for the gift they’ve been given, and with a sense of responsibility for the gift they’ll provide.

I wonder if the wonder of that first day of school isn’t as magical for the great teachers as it is for the kindergartner, for the freshman chasing their dream, for the kids who walk through the door all wide-eyed and ready to soak in whatever the day offers.

I wonder how many young people will have their mirrors turned in to windows by a teacher who shows up Monday morning — and every morning — year after year — intent on making the view through those windows something worth seeing.

I wonder if that’s not what makes them among the most important difference makers.

“The grand show is eternal.  It is always sunrise somewhere…”

–     John Muir, Scottish-born American naturalist and author (1838-1914)

And, so it is.

Thankfully so, as I am a very early riser.  Back in ‘Sconsin, one of my favorite sights was the sun coming up over the fog bank over Lake Michigan.  Even on the drive to O’Hare for a business flight, or downtown for a meeting, the awesome beauty — and the infinite promise — of the sun rising so majestically just caused me to pause and relish in how grand — and eternal — it was.  I wondered about the early settlers, and whether they paused from their labors to admire the same sight — because they would have seen the very same sight.

It’s why my office faces East at work.  It’s why we looked so hard for a lot that allowed us to build a house with my study facing East.

Difference makers deal in possibilities, and focus on possibility thinking.

And, with each sunrise comes a new set of possibilities.

“One last call for alcohol so finish your whiskey or beer; closing time, you don’t have to go home but you cant — stay — here.”

–     Lyric from “Closing Time” by Semisonic

There was a time, pre-Dodd-Frank and pre-Durbin, when banking made sense.  When it was here as a service to consumers, to small business types.  When it was left to the people closest to the relationship to determine the decision.

Not.  Any.  More.

Regulations, CYA requirements (and yes, “CYA” stands for exactly what you think it does!), too much oversight and not enough insight has made “closing time,” a complete buzz kill for everyone.  The banker.  The borrower.  The regulator.  The service provider.

There was a time, pre-Dodd-Frank, when it all worked.

Not.  Any.  More.

It’s enough to drive you to drink.  But you can’t — close — here.  At least not when you thought you could.

“In the final analysis, the question of why bad things happen to good people transmutes itself into some very different questions, no longer asking why something happened, but asking how we will respond, what we intend to do now that it happened.”

–     Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, French philosopher and Jesuit priest (1881-1955)

Difference makers pray.

Sorry if that’s too evangelical for some o’ youse, but it is my blog, right?

I have a good friend, let’s call him “Mark.”  He’s faced a helluva fight with cancer over the course of the last four-plus years.  Now, after 9 months of being “cancer free,” there’s an issue.  Some swelling.  Another biopsy.  Today.

Faith is about believing in what we can’t see, knowing what we can’t really know and believing that all things happen within the context of a master plan that we’re simply not equipped or able to understand.  Faith is about trusting and relinquishing any illusion of control — and control is absolutely an illusion — and peacefully seeking a deeper understanding.

Yet sometimes, the crap that comes down defies understanding.  So, what do we do?

Difference makers pray.  And if you’re reading this post, I am asking you to pray specifically that the biopsy is negative.  That God’s plan for this man and this family is not for more cancer.  I’m asking you to pray for healing and all the positive outcomes that could possibly tee themselves up.

I don’t know if our prayers will make it so.  I know, however, that they will make a difference.

Godspeed, Grogs.

“Lucy!  You got some ‘splainin’ to do!”

–     Desi Arnaz, musician, actor and husband of Lucille Ball

Some lines span generations.

“We’re on a mission from God,” from The Blues Brothers, for example.  “Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.”  “I’ll be back.”  We all have a few lines from a movie, a show, a sporting event (“Do you believe in miracles?  YES!”) that just sticks around.

This line from I Love Lucy is one of them.

But, you know what?  We really don’t have much ‘splainin’ to do.  If our intentions are good, our actions are well thought out and we just miss on execution, “I’m sorry” is all we’ve got.  Especially if we’re genuinely sorry.  No explanation will help, so it’s not worth it to a) expect one and b) burn all the calories it would take to construct one.

Unless we’re gonna get a full marching band tribute every time we’re right, it’s not realistic to think we have to explain ourselves every time we’re wrong.  Sometimes, sure, but not every stinkin’ time.  If we’re pushing the envelope and seeking to make a difference every day — that offsets some of the slip-ups.

Difference makers get over it.  Difference makers move on.  Forward.  Difference makers don’t expect a lot of ‘splainin’ and they don’t waste a lot of time doin’ too much of it either.

“I understand you wish to want to speak to someone who speaks English, Mr. Steven, and I just want to tell you that I speak English quite very good.”

–     “John,” the guy who “helped” me last night from Sirius’ Satellite Radio’s call center

Three things I know.

One, I love music and information so much that I’ll never be without satellite radio in my car again.

Two, Sirius / XM is a monopoly.

Three, if they weren’t, they’d be out of business.  Dead.  Done.  Gone.

Difference makers don’t do it crappy because they’re the only ones.  When (if) they’re the only ones, they get it even more right.

“Why don’t you ever see the headline, “Psychic Wins Lottery”?”

If you were considering whether to toss down a $20 bill at the county fair to have your fortune told, that’d be a good question to ask.

If you’re considering a vendor purchase — computers, cars, desks, software, consulting services, etc, there are “Why?” questions that will inform your decision — who to by from, at what price, on what terms, etc.

If you’re selling a product or service, asking “Why?” — why would they buy, why wouldn’t they buy, why did they offer that particular objection at this particular point of the process — those why questions feed our creativity — the answers, and potential answers, open up our possibility thinking, and lead us to better decisions.

Why not ask “Why?” more often. Difference makers do.

“Seth Godin makes me better.”

–     says anyone who’s ever read his stuff

Sometimes someone else says it more better than I ever could.

This is one of those times.  Click here for Seth.

“Problems cannot be solved by the same level of thinking that created them.”

–       Albert Einstein

From the time they can grip a crayon, what do we do?

“Try to stay in the lines, honey!”

We might as well hook up an industrial-strength vacuum and suck the creativity out of them.

And, even still, years after Ma & Pa told us to “stay in the lines,” sometimes, if we’re not careful, our business becomes an industrial-strength vacuum.  Or our heavily regulated and under-siege industry does, and, as ol’ Ross Perot would say, that giant sucking sound is all our creativity rushing away…  A lot of our success will be dictated by how much of it we can hold on to – or rediscover…

So, what is creativity?

Creativity is about getting outside the lines, sort of.  Even better, when we get really good at it, it becomes about hatching the idea and making it something incredible, and then – only then – putting lines around it and showing the industry / world / audience that it’s so cool they wish they’d have thinked it up!  (Yes, I meant “thinked…)

I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen the Broadway show, Suessical The Musical, but a lyric from that show rings true here.  Near the very start of the show, the Cat in The Hat and a little boy get us rolling toward a world where “a person’s a person, no matter how small,” as they bring to life the story of Horton Hears A Who.

The Cat In The Hat sings:

“I can see that you’ve got quite a mind for your age!
Why, one Think and you dragged me right onto the stage!
Now, I’m here, there is no telling what may ensue
With a Cat such as me, and a Thinker like you!”

“Oh, the thinks you can think!
If you’re willing to try…

Think invisible ink!
…Or a stair to the sky…
If you open your mind,
Oh, the thinks you will find
Lining up to get loose…
Oh, the thinks you can think
When you think about…”

For me, it’s Sharpee® markers and a Levenger® tablet.  For you, it might be the back of a napkin and a pencil from the golf course, or a pen borrowed from a waiter or waitress.  Whatever it is, get your hands on it, wrap your mind around it and see what kind of thinks you can think – and there’s no telling what may ensue….but I bet some of it will make a difference.

“The continuum, as I see it, starts with imagination. It’s the most extraordinary set of powers that we take for granted: the ability to bring into mind the things that aren’t present. It’s why we are so different from the rest of life on earth. That’s why we’re sitting in a beautiful building, drinking from these cups. Because human beings make things. We create things. We don’t live in the world directly; we live in a world of ideas and of concepts and theories and ideologies.”

–     Sir Ken Robinson (b. 1950), in a Fast Company interview and, as quoted by Bob Lefsetz in his Saturday post

Sir Ken, of the famous TED Talk, and author of the book, The Element, is an “educationalist” — and a fairly harsh critic of our current education system, especially when it comes to its effect on creativity.

One could argue that we’re killing creativity — and the relative dearth of it is testimony to the argument.

Our schools, including most of the best B-schools and universities, suck all the imagination out of us.  “Data,” they say.  “Analysis,” they say.  It all comes down to what you can measure.  Well, if you’ll forgive the harshness of my sentiment, that’s bullshit.  Pure and utter BS.

“Not everything that counts can be counted; and not everything that can be counted counts.”  It was either Einstein or William Bruce Cameron that said that — and I couldn’t care less — because it is pure and simple genius.  If we really want to break out, we gotta use more than math to do it.  We gotta solve something that someone else doesn’t even know needs solved.  And, no one is teaching that skill set any more.

One of my colleagues has a running joke with me — he holds his fingers up in an “O” shape on his forehead to remind me that I’m old.  It’s funny, especially because he’s something of an old soul himself.  And, when he calls me old, guess what?  I am.  Guilty as charged.

I am also from a generation that thrives on imagination.  On creativity.  And not just because the 70’s and 80’s were so good to us, either.

We had to figure stuff out.  We had to explore.  At the risk of sounding even more like Loren Stark, my grandpa, “By God, we had to find a way.”

Difference makers understand that the internet has many answers, but not all of them.  Difference makers understand that a degree is a sign of intelligence, of accomplishment, but not a shortcut to meaningful answers.  Difference makers understand that, as Sir Ken says, “The continuum starts with imagination.  It’s the most extraordinary set of powers that we take for granted; the ability to bring into mind the things that aren’t present.”

If they were — we wouldn’t need…well, we wouldn’t need US.

Create things.  Imagine them and then freaking create them.  Answers.  Products.  Solutions.  Difference makers use imagination as a powerful tool toward significant and long-lasting outcomes.