Interruptions
November 23, 2011
I know many of us crave the opportunity to work without distractions and to focus on a problem or project without interruptions. It’s why I seek a week alone at my cottage to read, write and rehearse. It’s my “sabbatical.”
But having said that about the significant benefits of solitude, I nevertheless must state that the sixth and final lesson in this series of blogs is this: The job is the interruptions.
I brought this lesson to the MHSAA from previous employment and it resonates truer today than ever.
The job is the call from the athletic director, coach or official who has a question. The job is the call from the superintendent, principal or parent with a concern.
The job is the knock on the door from another staff member with a difficult question from a constituent, or even a personal issue that’s important to them.
It’s often been when I’ve treated the call or knock as nuisance, given it inadequate time or attention, that the little interruption grew into a bigger problem.
The job is the interruptions. If there were none, we wouldn’t be needed. There would be no job.
Living With Change
December 1, 2017
One of the odd and irksome scenes I observe occurs when a relative newcomer to an enterprise lectures more seasoned veterans about change. About how change is all around us, and inevitable. About how we must embrace it and keep pace with it.
All that is true, of course; and no one knows more about that than the veteran being subjected to the newcomer’s condescension.
No one “gets it” better than those who have lived and worked through it. Short-timers can’t claim superiority on a subject they’ve only read or heard about.
Who has the deeper appreciation of change in our enterprise? The person who started working before the Internet, or after? Before social media, or after?
Who has keener knowledge of change in youth sports? The person in this work before, or after, the Amateur Athletic Union changed its focus from international competition and the Olympics to youth sports?
Who sees change more profoundly? The one who launched a career before the advent of commercially-driven sports specialization, or the one who has only seen the youth sports landscape as it exists today?
Who can better evaluate the shifting sands: newcomers or the ones who labored before colleges televised on any other day but Saturday and the pros televised on any other day but Sunday (and Thanksgiving)?
Where newcomers see things as they are, veterans can see things that have changed. They can be more aware of change, and more appreciative of its pros and cons. They didn’t merely inherit change, they lived it.