Let’s Avoid Jumping the Shark

As I am going through my closet gathering and removing those items I have not recently worn nor used, now convinced by the experts of the value of less (by my new favorite TV show, The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning), I have come across slices of my past in the unused gathering of handbags resting on a hook in my closet. In various bags, I have found: a deep red lipstick that would now wash me out; tampons that time has made unnecessary; emergency bags of Band-Aid and Neosporin once packed for my now-grown children because someone was always injuring themselves. How long do we hold on to items, ideas, and projects that no longer serve us or the students we teach?

I have seen teams of teachers continue using a simulation that no longer connects with their students, no longer serves any purpose other than as a placeholder of tradition, and has always been factually incorrect — and, yet, for twenty years, used over and over. What once had been a unique and interesting learning experience became, through the years, a totally disjointed and unimpactful student learning experience.

Television shows have a term when they are no longer relevant — jumping the shark. It is in reference to Fonzie on Happy Days, seen surfing and jumping a literal shark. A silly plot line and an indication that the show no longer served its audience… instead of laughs, it evoked groans.

There are stylists out there who will go through your closet and put together up-to-date, chic outfits for you, shedding the unnecessary and those items that no longer serve a purpose. They can see those items without emotion, memories, or attachment. They can reshape your closet into something that removes the stressful clutter and serves the purpose of not just clothing you, but making you feel good in those clothes and having the best possible impact.

Perhaps you need a lesson/unit stylist? Let me go through your materials and—without emotion—reshape, reorganize, and yes, possibly toss, for the most relevance and impact. We, as educators, have all suffered from the ‘one more year for this lesson’ syndrome. We grow emotionally attached to the thing we created. But, it’s guaranteed there will come a point where the whole thing jumps the shark.

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The Great Move

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It’s a Puzzle, Not a Bullseye