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If I Ever Get to Be On That MTV Show About Being Seventeen I Will Tell This Story

Once when I was seventeen, I ran my family’s car into the side of the road. As far as I know, it’s the only thing I ever did that could be chalked up to stupid adolescent behavior, the only thing that ever got me into big trouble with my parents. I have never been pulled over by the cops; I have never sneaked out of the house after curfew; and I have never otherwise been caught doing anything rebellious or bad. And I would have gotten away with running the family’s car into the side of the road if it wasn’t for the fact that I dented the front bumper pretty noticeably.

Now, normally, seventeen-year-old  Spencer was all into being overly upset about mistakes he made. But on this particular night, I was with my girlfriend and trying to look grown-up and I was remembering all of the crazy stories my parents had told me about when they were kids. We laughed about those. So I figured this would be a laughing matter.

I called my parents and laughed through most of the conversation. My parents weren’t laughing, though.

Life did not progress all that well from there that night.

Tonight, I was standing in line at a fast food restaurant, and the woman in front of me asked for a large cup for water. Expecting the cashier to not be cool with this, the woman launched into a five-minute explanation of what had led her to ask for a large cup of water. It was loaded with too much information.

That woman and seventeen-year-old me have a lot in common. We both thought that we knew the reaction of the person we were communicating with. And in both cases, it didn’t work out well.

I pull punches all the time. I pepper my conversation with words and phrases and attitudes that I think will make the information easier or more acceptable for the person I’m talking to. It never does.

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The Magic Kit to a Better Life

My brother and I really like Criss Angel. When we do something that is confusing, silly, or annoyingly normal we like to look the other straight in the eye, put our hands up to our face, and say “Miiiiiiiiiindfreeeeeaaaaaak!” That’s why we can’t help but laugh every time we see the commercial for the Criss Angel Mindfreak Platinum Magic Kit (FOR ONLY 2 PAYMENTS OF 14.99).

If you’ve ever seen Mindfreak, then you know that some of the stuff that Angel does is really impressive. He levitates, makes elephants disappear, cuts a lot of things in half, walks on water, and stuff like that. These tricks aren’t child’s play.

But the commercial ignores all of that. And for 30 bucks, you can have a magic kit and will magically be able to do magic for anyone, including a gaggle of attractive women who are going to be so impressed by your magic that they will continually kiss you on the cheek.

The commercial makes no mention of having to learn the tricks or practice. It implies that the two payments of 14.99 are the only prerequisite for being able to do magic tricks.

As we get into the holiday season, I pray we remember that things, money, and magic kits don’t change people. Purchasing a magic kit does not make you a magician. Buying a suit does not make you a businessman. Buying a house does not make you a family. Buying a ring does not mean you are ready to commit to marriage.

People, hard work, and practice change things.

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5:1 Says that KIPP Journey has Relationships Figured Out

Two days ago, I wrote a post about visiting KIPP Journey in Columbus. In that time, it has become the most popular post on this site. Which is pretty cool. And it’s doubly cool because I didn’t even include everything that blew me away about the school.

In every classroom, there was a blue poster on the wall. All it said was “5:1.” As the day progressed, my peers and I routinely whispered about it. What did it mean? Why should a simple ratio have such a prominent place in the classroom?

We got our answer when we had the opportunity to sit down with Dustin Wood, the School Director and OU alum (Go Bobcats!).  He said 5:1 is a ratio that comes from psychologist, John Gottman’s study of marriages. Gottman found he could predict the success of marriages with 90% accuracy based on the ratio of the number of positive remarks said on a daily basis to the number of negative remarks said on a daily basis. If a relationship stayed around 5:1, it was probably going to succeed.

Wood and the teachers at KIPP Journey have started using the ratio as a way of ensuring the success of their students. When Wood does teacher evaluations, he records how many positive and negative remarks a teacher makes. The goal is to keep everyone above 5:1.

Observe any class at KIPP Journey, and it becomes exceedingly obvious that all of the teachers are constantly thinking about this ratio. They are like parents. They constantly hand out “I love you”s and terms of endearment and encouragement to their students. Even failures are repackaged as successes.

In one class, student had bell work. The teacher used two different students’ work as examples. One of them didn’t get full credit on the problem, though. But he had done something really great to deserve the first point, and so he was applauded for what he had done correctly instead of chastised for what he had done wrong.

I am convinced that interactions like these make all the difference.

I made a comment the other day that I wish the whole world was run like a KIPP school. The more I learn about the program, the more I am convinced that a wish like that could change everything. What if we made a conscious effort to follow the 5:1 ratio in everything we did? What would that look like?