Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 113

Housework Hero

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, on average women spend 47 more minutes on housework than men do every day, which accumulates to about five and a half hours a week.

The gender gap in housework exists in nearly every configuration of heterosexual households:

Women do more housework when both partners work. Women do more housework when the woman makes more money than their spouse. Women do more housework in households where both spouses are not employed and where both are retired.

This is a terrible situation for women, but for someone like me, who almost certainly does more than 50% of the household chores in our home, I love it.

I like a low bar.

I enjoy looking good through minimal effort.

I love it when my competition isn’t very competitive.

When people suck and you don’t, looking good becomes pretty pedestrian.

To be known is good.

My former student from 24 years ago – who later became my children’s first babysitter and whose wedding I officiated a few years ago – sent this image to me, saying:

“Hey, I’m not sure why, but this made me think of you. I bet you two would be good friends.”

She’s right. I adore this quote. I agree with the quote. I fully support the quote. I embrace the quote with every fiber of my being. It actually made me feel better about the tragic end of my summer vacation.

It’s good to be so well known.

It’s good to be so well known by someone who I first met when she was seven years old.

The quote, by the way, comes from writer and actor BJ Novak, who I find entirely too talented for my liking. I’ve actually written about Novak in one of my novels, describing him as disturbingly and infuriatingly clever.

This brilliant quote is a perfect example of Novak’s exceptional, engaging cleverness.

Still, my former student is correct. If BJ Novak wants to be my friend, I would not object.

Wordle Bot is my master

If you’re someone who is still doing Wordle – and why wouldn’t you be? – you may also be aware of Wordle Bot, also operated by the New York Times.

Wordle Bot analyzes your performance on Wordle daily and assigns you a score based on your performance that day.

It turns out that Worlde Bot is a dark and dangerous road to travel. There are days when I think my choices on the puzzle were genius, only to discover that Worlde Bot didn’t recognize my word choice or identified a dozen better options than mine.

It’s a simple algorithm, of course, but I’ve come to see Wordle Bot as a sentient, judgemental, oftentimes cruel entity, incapable of seeing my value, ingenuity, and worth.

Elysha feels the same way, too. Perhaps even more so on some days.

Then this happened:

Last week World Bot assigned me a perfect score. My first and only perfect score thus far.

For a moment, all seemed right with the world. Wordle Bot’s judgment of me was righteous and fair.

I couldn’t wait to show Elysha what a good and just human being I was.

All of this emotional upheaval from a website designed to analyze my proficiency in a word game that ultimately means nothing.

Just imagine when we have real robots with eyes and kneecaps and shoulder blades wandering around our homes, commenting on our every choice.

We’re doomed.

How the kids think of Elysha and me

My kids have informed me that I am the soft parent and Elysha is the hard one.

I’m so upset about this.

Also excited.

And so upset.

And so excited.

I honestly don’t know what to think.

How to transform your child into a writer

As a teacher and a writer, I often give parents advice on helping their children to become effective writers who (more importantly) love to write.

My advice is simple:

Be the best audience possible for your child’s work. If he or she wants to read something to you, drop everything. Allow the chicken to burn in the frying pan. Allow the phone to ring off the hook. Give your child your full and complete attention. When a child reads something that they have written to someone who they love and respect, it is the most important thing happening in the world at that moment. Treat it as such.

Don’t look at the piece. Don’t even touch the piece. Any comment made about the piece should never be about handwriting, spelling, punctuation, and the like. By never laying eyes on the actual text, your innate, insatiable parental need to comment on the mechanics of writing will be properly stifled. Your child does not want to hear your thoughts on punctuation or the neatness of their printing. No writer does. Your child has given birth to something from the heart and mind. Treat it with reverence. Speak about how it makes you feel. Rave about the ideas and images. Talk about the word choices that you loved. Compliment the title. Ask for more. Forget the rest.

Remember: Rough drafts are supposed to be rough. Even final drafts are not meant to be perfect. That’s why editors exist. Go online and look at the rough drafts of EB White’s Charlotte’s Web. They’re almost illegible. Who cares? Writing is messy.

Once your child has finished reading the piece, offer three positive statements about the writing. Compliments. Nothing more. Only after you have said three positive things may you offer a suggestion. Maintain this 3:1 compliment/criticism ratio always. Use the word “could” instead of “should” when offering a suggestion.

If your child asks you how to spell a word, spell it. Sending a child to the dictionary to find the spelling of a word is an act of stupidity and cruelty, and it’s a surefire way to make writing less fun. You probably do this because it was the way that your parents and teachers treated you, but it didn’t help you one bit. It only turned writing into a chore. If you were to ask a colleague how to spell a word, you wouldn’t expect to be sent to the dictionary. That would be rude. The same holds true for your child.

Also, the dictionary was not designed for the purpose of spelling. The dictionary is an alphabetical list of definitions and other information about words, but it wasn’t meant for spelling. Just watch a first grader look for the word “phone” in the F section of the dictionary and you will quickly realize how inefficient, pointless, and stupid this process is.

When it comes to writing, the most important job for parents and teachers is to ensure that kids learn to love to write. If a child enjoys putting words on a page, even if those words are poorly spelled, slightly illegible, and not entirely comprehensible, that’s okay. The skills and strategies for effective writing will come in time, through direct instruction, lots and lots of practice, and a little osmosis. The challenge – the mountain to climb – is getting a child to love writing. Make that your primary objective. Make that your only objective. Do everything you can to ensure that your child loves the writing process. Once your child achieves that summit, the rest will fall into place.

I promise.

Except for handwriting.

Sometimes there’s nothing we can do about the quality of a child’s handwriting. Some human beings simply lack the fine motor skills to produce beautiful penmanship.

But even that doesn’t matter anymore. Your child lives in a world where most of their writing will be done on a computer.

Change happens

Less than 11 percent of Americans smoke tobacco.

Also, for the first time ever, more Americans reported smoking marijuana (16 percent) than tobacco.

When I turned 21 years old, nearly half of all adults smoked tobacco and marijuana was illegal in all 50 states.

In less than half of a lifetime, the number of smokers has plummeted by more than 85% and smoking is now illegal in all public places.

Meanwhile, marijuana is recreationally legal in 19 states and medically legal in 37 states.

All of this happened in less than three decades.

Less than half a lifetime.

The next time someone tries to tell you that change isn’t possible, tell them this.

Change happens. We simply need to look back to see it.

Meetings

It’s weird that an absolutely guaranteed, never fail way of making people happy at work is to end a meeting early, yet so few leaders take advantage of this simple, instantaneously joy-producing means of bringing happiness to the workplace.

Also, what are the odds that you schedule a meeting for 60 minutes and just happen to have exactly 60 minutes of content to present or discuss every single time?

It’s also bizarre that in almost any other context, completing a job in the most efficient way possible is also considered the best way possible, but in the case of meetings, efficiency is almost always ignored in favor of adhering to the schedule.

Schedule an hour. Fill an hour.

The Matthew Dicks Law of Meetings:

Meetings always expand to fill the allotted time.

It’s even worse in education, where administrators routinely treat teachers and staff like students because many are former teachers who never worked outside of education and received almost no formal management training prior to or even after their promotion.

As a McDonald’s manager, I was routinely sent to business school, management training seminars, and the company’s own management training program. Hundreds of hours were invested in order to transform me into a knowledgeable, effective manager of people and systems.

This does not happen in any school district that I know, and it’s often ignored in the business world, too. I consult with one vice-president who climbed the ladder from computer programmer to leader of a team of dozens without ever receiving a single ounce of management training. Much of our time is spent passing on the lessons I learned as a McDonald’s manager to him.

It’s crazy.

In education, this creates an environment where instead of managing teachers and staff like professionals, administrators often treat them like students, running meetings like they ran their classrooms, complete with assigned seating, learning targets, and the same structure and activities you might find in an elementary classroom. And since teachers can almost never end class early, even if the content has been covered and objectives have been met, administrators simply do the same.

For example:

You clearly finish your training at 4:00, but since the contracted work day ends at 4:30, and because administrators can’t trust a teacher to fill their time productively and ethically, they stretch.

Add nonsense activities to fill time.

Unintentionally provoke hatred and disgust from the teachers who can always see through their ineffective, time-sucking veneer.

Not all administrators are so monstrous and ineffective, of course. I’m currently working for one of the good ones. Not all managers are so awful, either. But I’ve known quite a few in my time, and I have many friends and clients currently working for these time-wasting, soul-sucking, untrained leaders today.

My simple, unassailable, never fail advice to anyone who is scheduling a meeting, running a meeting, or managing people in any way:

End every meeting early for the rest of your damn life. The five or ten or fifteen minutes given back to your people will ultimately mean nothing to you in a day or a week, but the goodwill and appreciation generated will resonate for a long, long time.

Still growing the legend…

About a month ago, I wrote this:
_________________________________

Scott, my golf guru, has said many wise things to me on a golf course. Swing thoughts and strategy and decision making.

He has also advised me to “grow the legend” wherever possible.

This means that when faced with the choice of a safe, high percentage shot or an exceedingly difficult, low percentage, possibly remarkable shot, always choose the latter. Even though your score might suffer, scores are quickly forgotten.

Remarkable shots are remembered forever.

I like this philosophy a lot.

Here’s the problem:

My legend isn’t entirely legendary, at least when it comes to the golf course, and quite possibly throughout much of my life.

In the years I’ve played golf, I’ve killed a bird mid-flight with a tee shot. Hit a duck on the side of a hill. Hit a ball that traveled 130 yards on a 90-degree arc around a stand of tall grass, over a pond, and into a pipe on the other side. I’ve hit the side of a barn. Hit the side of a house. Hit myself with a ball twice on a ricochet off a tree.

I once hit six consecutive shots into a condo complex in Bermuda, each shot landing within several feet of the other. I’ve hit multiple balls into multiple ponds, streams, and rivers many, many times.

I once hit a tee shot that somehow ended up 100 yards to the right, slightly behind me, onto a green where four guys were putting.

“Putting for eagle?” one of them asked with a smile.

I once hit a ball out of a sand trap straight up into the air. I looked up and couldn’t see the ball, so I asked my friend, Andrew, who had been watching the shot, where it had gone. Then the ball came back down, landing on the brim of my hat, resting there for a moment, before gently rolling off my hat and into the divot I’d just made.

Andrew witnessed the entire thing and might still be laughing today.

I’m legendary on the golf course, but not for the reasons a golfer wants to be legendary.
___________________________________

Last weekend, I punched a ball out from under the trees. Even though I hit the ball less than 50 yards into a relatively open area, none of us could find the ball. We looked and looked and looked, then I said to myself:

“Where is the worst place the ball could be?”

Then I found it.

Of course.

This is my version of “growing the legend.”

I grew the legend. My legend. My terrible, no good, relentlessly unfortunate legend.

In fairness to myself. I took a drop, then hit a 160-yard shot over a pond and onto the green, about three feet from the pin, and I tapped the ball in for bogie.

A great save. For me.

“What are downs?”

Charlie and I are sitting in section 335 of Gillette Stadium, watching the first quarter of the preseason game against the Carolina Panthers last week.

The boy loves watching football live. I can’t wait until he’s old enough to take him to a regular season game. The degree of public drunkenness, endless vulgarity, and threats of violence hurled upon opponents and referees are too much for a ten-year-old boy, but there will come a day when he’s ready.

Until then, we have the preseason, when things are slightly more civilized.

We’re midway through the first quarter when the stadium announcer bellows, “First down!”

“What’s a down again?” Charlie asks.

He understood the concept of down and distance last year, but it’s apparently fallen out of his head in the months following the playoffs.

I explain the concept again, which isn’t easy given the multitude of decisions to be made on fourth down. But after a few minutes, he gets it, I think.

“Boy,” Charlie says. “This is going to make playing Madden so much easier.”

I laugh.

Understanding one of the fundamental principles of football will certainly make playing that game – in real life or on an iPad – a hell of a lot easier.

How to make your workplace better

On this Labor Day…

I was asked at my recent book launch about making the workplace better. Someone who was stuck in a less-than-ideal job with colleagues who are less than inspired asked me what could be done to improve their situation.

“How can I make my job better on a daily basis?”

My response:

Make your colleagues’ lives better. Write letters.

At least half a dozen times last year, I wrote a letter describing a colleague’s job well done. I recognized a teacher’s efforts, acknowledged the work of a paraprofessional or custodian, or credited the work of support staff who had gone above and beyond to improve a child or staff member’s life.

Once written, I sent a copy to my principal, who then met with the colleague to present the letter. He also copied and added the letter to the colleague’s personnel file.

In some cases, when appropriate, I also sent a copy to an assistant superintendent or a superintendent.

I’ve been doing this for years. I can’t recommend this enough.

One of the best ways to improve a colleague’s life is to let that person know their efforts are recognized and appreciated. Words of encouragement are lovely, but writing a letter memorializes your recognition, which is essential. Our stupid, ancient, hunter-gatherer brains are designed to remember the negative far better than the positive, which means that compliments are often forgotten in the wake of criticism and negativity.

But creating a permanent, unassailable record of a person’s excellence can help a great deal on those days when the world seems dark and unforgiving.

By sending the letter to a supervisor, that recognition is extended to where it is often desired most and can have the greatest positive impact on a person’s career. Though most of us are thrilled when our colleagues appreciate our efforts, the person whose opinion often means the most, particularly regarding job security, salary, and promotions, is our boss.

It’s often best when our boss recognizes and appreciates our efforts.

Sadly, management often sucks in this regard. A little prodding can go a long way.

In my particular situation, I know that my principal will present these letters to my colleague at just the right moment, in just the right way, thus maximizing the effect of my recognition. Several years ago, when the principal of my school was a monster, I would send the letters directly to my colleague and the superintendent.

You decide how smart or stupid your supervisor is and act accordingly.

This recommendation will not necessarily make your work life any better in any immediate, direct way, but working alongside happier people can make your work life a lot better. There are many reasons a job can be less than ideal, but often, it has a lot to do with the people with whom we work.

If you work with friendly, happy, productive people, even the most unbearable job can be made palatable. Rather than looking to make your work day better, establish a virtuous cycle by finding ways to make your colleagues’ days better. Seek to lift them up whenever you can. If they are happy, you will inevitably find yourself in a happier workplace.

Also, earning their appreciation never hurts.

Compliments are kind. Letters are lasting.

Watch for a colleague who deserves some recognition for a job well done. Write a letter. Send it to their boss.

It’s simple, kind, permanent, and will bring joy to your workplace and, hopefully, to you.