Demystifying Excellence:
Ask Good Questions -- And Give Good Answers
Back when I was a high school teacher, one of my students once raised his hand in class and asked what many students wonder about a teacher who graduated from a prestigious university: "Mr. C, if you went to Stanford, how come you're just a music teacher?" The class went silent, anxious, awaiting my response. First... Let's pause for a moment and collectively contemplate what that question says about the values of our current American society.
But second... This was a fair question requiring a serious answer -- after taking advantage of my long-awaited thespian opportunity to melodramatically break down in front of a class of high school kids. So I looked at my students, my shoulders slumping, my eyes getting a litte misty, and said: "You're right. What am I doing here? You spoiled punks suck. I quit." Then I walked out of the classroom door. Well played -- there was silence in the room behind me.
I waited a few beats and returned with a grand theatrical bow, to an amused and relieved ovation from my students for my Oscar-winning turn. And then I looked this young man in the eye and said very seriously: "Do you wanna know the real answer?"
The class became silent again. The boy looked up at me, suddenly very serious and sincere: "Yes." He actually did want to know the answer; his parents were very rich and successful, and he couldn't imagine what I was doing here.
I said: "Because teaching offers me a great opportunity to spend my time doing the things I love to do every day, with people who matter and can make a difference in the world, so it makes me happy to be here with you punks. How many other adults do you know who seem really inspired by their jobs?"
And he nodded and said: "Got it, Mr. C."
That's the same reason I am delighted to work with the younger set now -- kids the age of my own kids. I do realize I could have taken my Stanford degree and made more money doing something else, and there are times -- to be honest -- I wish I had. But my internal compass tells me I would have felt like a traitor to my soul. In any event, my success may not be your success. What matters is whether you have the courage to figure out what your success is, and then go for it. That's what my teenage brother did, and he lead a successful life -- even though it only lasted seventeen years. I'll take quality over quantity any day.
Read the next Chapter -> A Sixth Cornerstone.
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