Do We Really Need Narratives?

If there’s a goal in life it’s to live it fully and meaningfully so that we experience it with everything we can bring to muster. It doesn’t happen to us; we make it happen, making choices in how we move forward and how we respond to what happens along the way. We each define what living fully means for us, by accepting, loving and growing who we are.

With me so far? Alright, then I have to ask:

“Why do we need a narrative to make this happen?”

<insert pensive pause here>

Answer: we don’t.

Yes, the oral tradition is an important cultural tool, communicating values, beliefs and histories through the ages. But the value proposition has changed in the digital era. Storytelling is now a disposable commodity transmitted to go viral and die out in a quick life-cycle. We are endlessly bombarded with marketing messaging in an effort to gain social advantage, customer loyalty and increased revenue. Our attention spans have actually shortened in an attempt to defend our minds from all the noise (don’t blink)!

And that’s just the output. There's data they're collecting on our every click to groom us as followers, actors and consumers. We’re conditioned to respond to their prompts based on the profiles they develop on us. And where do they get those profiles? From the narratives we craft about ourselves.

Our personal narratives make us susceptible targets of indoctrination around:

 - belief systems

 - political identities

 - brand loyalties

 - status

 - respect

 - validation

 - adequacy

 - security, and

 - reinforcement of the narratives we choose to believe.

This incessant mining of our hearts, minds and wallets never ends! It's a dynamic that has evolved over time. Years ago as a young teacher, I attended district professional development where they brought in a folk storyteller to share example after example of the power of story. He made the case, not unlike Joseph Campbell or Tennessee Williams or even Homer himself, that we all want, need and live for the power of the epic hero, the flawed sidekick and the timeless journey.

OK it was a fine session, as faculty professional development goes, but it gnawed at me. Really? It's all about the story? I don’t mind a great plot and a satisfying resolution, and great writing makes all the difference to me, from song lyrics to novels, but my defenses go up when I suspect my emotions are being manipulated by the storyteller. Case in point: by the time E.T. was riding across the sky sitting in Elliott’s bike basket I was having an adverse reaction, thinking "how many more times is Spielberg going to tug on our heartstrings?" That kind of self-monitoring of our reaction to manipulation can serve us well today.

Think about it. From early on, we are read and told stories. It creates a personal bond, contexts for language and culture, preconditions for literacy, and an endless appetite to be entertained. We are conditioned to want, need and live for great stories. But what if we choose something more? What if, instead of willingly surrendering to narratives the way every Madison Ave pitch man wants, we step back and refuse to be swept up in the storylines they want to use as hooks? Imagine, if we can, peeling off that thin, outer layer that covers us; that exterior we present to the world as our narrative. It's hard to imagine separating ourselves from it; it's become such a part of us. But try, because if we can separate ourselves from those stories we tell ourselves, we can be in touch with who we genuinely are at our core.

In an age where everyone and everything tries to identify us by tribes and ideologies and origin stories, refusing to give into the pull to craft a narrative is not so much an act of rebellion as it is an act of survival.

Who we are doesn’t require spin or hyperbole or superlatives or panache. We are remarkable just being our genuine selves. Thank about it. Aren’t resolutions just another kind of narrative? And why are they typically not fulfilled? Because they aren’t based in our true selves, but in some story of who we are told we should be.

Me? I have the luxury of reflecting on this in retirement. Isn’t hindsight great? 😁  I like who I am, and I enjoy experiencing life without a storyline.

I realize I could have arrived at this place long before now. It didn't require getting off the merry-go-round in order to get to this place. It simply never occurred to me! My entire life was charged full of narratives and I worked full time trying to align all of them. Talk about an exercise in futility! When I stopped to think about it, an authentic storyline should be about who we are at our core, not what someone else tells us we should be. This is why I share this post with you now.

I had to face this truth when my last organization got sold out under the pretense of a merger. The narrative was, “We’re creating a full stack: the instructional strength of the one org and the technology expertise of the other.” Looking back, I realize this was a smokescreen to push through a takeover.  I can connect the dots from when my org’s last full-time executive got pushed out, to how his interim replacement set everything in motion for the merger to take place in a few fast months, and how the other organization merging with us put their executive at the top of the new org chart, getting rid of my org’s senior leadership, and absorbing all our assets into its portfolio. There was no full stack; the organization I served for fourteen years exists today in name only. 😢

As I watched this play out in real time, I decided on a new narrative to align my work with what was happening: “Hang tight and protect our communities.” It defined what I thought I could accomplish sitting at ground zero.

At the next annual conference, I brought in a highly-respected national leader to work the entire day with our community leaders. It was an amazing day, reaffirming everything that was good and right about their work serving educators. It’s climax was a dinner that evening to which I invited the new chief executive to welcome everyone. He agreed to a specific timeslot right at the beginning of the dinner. We started on time and he showed up two hours late. As our guest speaker finished making the case for authenticity, imploring us to avoid feel-good platitudes that ring hollow in the ears of educators, I invited the exec up to offer his remarks. He stood there for no more than two minutes, tone deaf to what had just been shared with the audience, and announced that he wanted everyone to spend the next three days at the conference telling each other, “Thank you for your service.” It was received in the room with a deafening silence. Not that he noticed. He walked out as if he had set the narrative for the entire conference with a sentiment reserved for honoring our armed services personnel.

The evening went on as if he had never even been with us. He hadn’t. By the next annual conference the same exec was forcing the shutdown of our communities. Mind you, while his public narrative to community leaders was, “We value you and we’re open to ideas on how to maximize our relationship with you,” internally he was insisting that these programs were of no value and needed to be discontinued. I witnessed all of it first-hand, sitting with him in staff meetings and then sitting with him in meetings with our community leaders. When I tried to champion the communities as the nonprofit arm of the organization, the exec told me privately, "We've got the right business model - educators are willing to pay the prices we set." That's all I needed to hear. If I stayed any longer I would be complicit in what he was doing.

I took that next week off after conference and drove the Pacific Coast Highway from San Francisco to San Diego to clear my mind, wrestle with my ethical dilemma, and come to terms with the fact that he was going to shut down these communities, with or without me, and upon my return I gave notice that I was leaving the org. I didn't try to dress it up. I simply said, “I’m done.”

I put no spin on it. No public narrative. People are smart and I knew they would figure things out for themselves.

This org continues to spew narratives to this day as they monetize everything they feel is worth keeping post-merger. To them, if it can become a revenue stream, it has value.

At the same time, they’re scrubbing their mission and vision messaging of anything that refers to diversity, equity, inclusion and social-emotional learning. Ignore their narratives and see what they actually value: turning a profit. And how do they use educators? As a revenue source.

I made my decision, but I still hadn't learned my lesson. I had a new narrative: “I'm retired!” It sounded good, but I continued to do good work and make a difference in the lives of educators, so it became a running joke that I failed at retirement! 🙄

No matter the motivations or intentions, narratives get in the way.

Not unlike my aforementioned “merger” experience, it’s easy to connect the dots that have led us to today’s disruption and dismantling of public education. Over time, we've watched politically-motivated boards remove committed educator-leaders in favor of candidates with business and policy credentials who think the way to lead schools is by building power structures that mirror the hierarchies in government and the private sector. They talk about what's best for children, but they are are more concerned with power and public relations, and over time educators doing the work in classrooms have had less and less say in the decisions being made. As a result, our careers are a patchwork of stories of how to do more with less.

Yet the work continues…

I write this to you who are ready to read it. There's another way, a more fulfilling way, to live to work and to leave a worthy legacy. Stop crafting narratives and trying to align them with other competing storylines. It's pointless and unnecessary.

The world doesn’t need another business model bottom line, get-rich-quick storyline or polarizing political posture added to the noise. Don't give in to feeling that you have to explain yourself or be thrown on the heap of someone else’s priorities. Your authentic self is more than enough and it is critical in making the transformation of education happen. Reject anything that doesn't serve the real you.

Just be. Face each day head-on as your genuine self with the confidence that there's nothing you can't handle. You have everything you need to pursue your dreams and realize them, and we have everything we need to reclaim the promise of public education....the promise of each child in each community. This is why we got into teaching in the first place.

You'll know you’re living fully when you:

- follow your heart

 - feel energized and resilient

 - are at peace with who you are

 - share your authentic self with others

 - take action without worrying about the narrative

 - make a difference where it makes a difference to you

 - embrace life, the good and bad, in all its wonderfulness

Questioning what fills the void left without all the narratives about winning and losing? Wondering what happens to all the noise and salesmanship? You'll be surprised how easily you find contentment and satisfaction in yourself, a loving appreciation for those worthy souls who deserve to be close to you, and the joy of each day not having to prove anything to anyone, including you.

Best of all? Divesting yourself of narratives makes you resistant to persons and organizations that want a piece of you. They come around less and less as you emanate peace and happiness and live fully on your terms, not theirs. Everything falls into place in your favor!

If you’ve left our ranks due to education's unsustainable circumstances to follow promises of success elsewhere, we don’t judge you, but we ask you to come back and help us rebuild the original promise of the institution: a free and equitable education for everyone. It’s not too late. In fact, the conditions are ripe for this to happen. K-12 doesn’t need to be blown up. It needs a hard reset so that it can fulfill its original intent.

We know the work. We know how to get the job done, and we will continue developing a roadmap made by practitioners for practitioners to show a way forward. We invite you to join us.

Narrative has become a marketing tool that works against us. Anyone can make up a story. Authenticity, originality and creativity require being genuinely you. Yes, it's a completely different mindset, so it takes practice to resist the familiar storylines on which we were raised, but it’s worth it to find the peace and satisfaction and fulfillment we deserve.

Why let anyone or anything keep you from living your best life on your terms? Make the change. Start now:

Resolutionless.

Narrativeless.

Storyless.

Just be, and educators like myself will honor you and support you in your worthy work.

It’s time!

Walter McKenzie is a career educator living fully sans narrative. Here he is pictured being his genuine self. Look like fun? He invites you to do the same! If you're ready to have authentic connections and conversations with supportive, likeminded people free of the same old song and dance, email him here and join us in The Worthy Educator community. There are no strings attached!