on accompaniment, attentiveness, and contribution
As we graduated from college, Fr. Ted Hesburgh remarked to our class that one way to assess the value of one’s education was to look at the books one is reading, 10, 20, and 30 years on.
What are you reading these days?
(And as 2024 begins, a great question to ask someone you admire is: What should I read next?)
Recently, I read a study finding that two things wildly diminish our brain power.
One was notifications (ding!) from a smart phone (or computer applications or whatever).
The other was moral outrage. (Which is different from being principled, generous, and willing to engage the world…)
And it makes sense, right? The former fragments the attention until it is difficult to focus deeply. And the latter cuts the roots off of our curiosity.
Beware the brain’s kryptonite.
In The Culture Code, Daniel Coyle describes that, far and away, the most productive, cohesive, and enjoyable groups have a member that is a “good apple.”
“Good apples” maintain stability and safe connection among the members of the group, so that group energy can focus on doing the work instead of (often anxious) relationship management. With small behaviors, they defect negativity and drain danger from the room. By subtly communicating that the group is safely connected, they create the conditions for others to perform.
We have each known these good apples, and they are marvelous to work with.
Being a “good apple” takes a certain amount of emotional intelligence and social skill, but it is also a generous choice.
When I was coaching teachers, the centerpiece of writing a good lesson plan was called the “Mastery Response Narrative” (or MRN). It was the narration of how one arrived at the completion of the task to be mastered.
So, take a simple example: Say, in Spanish class, the students were to learn how to conjugate a regular “-ar” verb.
The “target task” to be mastered would be: “Write ‘I speak’.”
The “mastery response” would be: “Yo hablo.”
And then the MRN: “I know that the infinitive of “to speak,” in Spanish, is “hablar” which is a “regular” verb… the base form of the verb does not change when I conjugate it. And the first person (Yo) verb ending is “-o.” So to conjugate it, I remove the “-ar” from “hablar” and place the “-o” on the end of the root (“habl-”) to make “hablo.” Then I add the first-person pronoun (Yo) to form Yo hablo…”
Ok – so kiiind of tedious for a simple task.
But! The MRN is indispensable for the teacher-in-training as they are welcomed back into a “beginner’s mind” for the task at hand. The teacher also sees, through the MRN, all of the steps that they must help the students to practice in order to master the task.
I’ve been thinking about the MRN as I think about less straight forward tasks that we desperately need to master.
How can a busy person cultivate solitude?
How can someone build empathic relationships with people who think much differently than they do?
How can an individual connect with others to address climate change?
How can someone who wants to follow Jesus not become lukewarm or discouraged or a hypocrite and follow the Master anew each day?
For whatever challenge we want to master, we might seek a person who is thriving at this challenge despite having similar constraints as we do. Then, ask them for their MRN… How did they come to master this challenge? And then sit and listen.
Any invitation for someone to give their MRN opens up a series of gifts. The person you admire begins to see themself as a teacher. (Gift!) And you get a narrative to emulate and share. (Gift that keeps on giving!)
One final thought: What have you mastered that we desperately need you to share about? Consider doing an MRN today and see how much you have to teach. You may be the one we’ve been waiting for.
Paul's Blog