Pebbles anyone?

 

Hearing Angela Duckworth and Adam Grant speak so closely together has my mind spinning. Sometimes you hear a speaker, take a few notes, and move on with your day. Other times, an idea sticks with you and starts connecting to things you see in your own life, your work, and the people around you. Recently, a group of us had the opportunity to hear Adam Grant speak, and I left thinking about two ideas in particular: pebbling and the idea of creating a user guide for ourselves. The more I think about them, the more I wonder how much better we could be at connecting with one another if we spent a little more time understanding what makes each of us tick.

Grant talked about pebbling; a behavior associated with penguins who offer pebbles as part of their courtship and bonding. Think about that for a moment. A penguin finds a pebble and offers it to another penguin as a way of building a connection. Humans do something similar, although most of us aren't walking around with pockets full of rocks. Instead, we send an article, share a podcast, forward a funny video, or pass along a link that reminds us of someone. We see something and think, "I know who would appreciate this." Sometimes we don't even need to add a message. The act of sharing says it for us: I was thinking about you. I know what you enjoy. I thought you might like this. I love the simplicity of that idea. In a world where we are constantly communicating, a small gesture that shows we actually know someone can mean a lot. Maybe the question we should ask ourselves is not how many people we communicate with, but how often we make someone feel seen.

The second idea that stuck with me was the concept of a personal user guide. We have user guides for our phones, cars, appliances, and just about everything else we own. When something doesn't work the way we expect, we look for the instructions. But what if we had a user guide for ourselves? What if the people we work with, teach alongside, live with, and care about understanding what pushes our buttons, what motivates us, and what helps us become better? I know a few things that would make it into mine. One trigger is seeing a gambling advertisement that ends with "Gamble responsibly." Somehow, that phrase feels like a convenient way to transfer all the responsibility to the person who is gambling. Another trigger happens when teachers read students' answers aloud and mock them for getting something wrong. I find myself wondering why our first response is sometimes, "How could they possibly answer that way?" rather than, "What do I need to do to help them understand this differently?" Those two questions lead us down very different paths. One invites judgment. The other invites curiosity, reflection, and better teaching.

Of course, a user guide shouldn't just be a list of things that annoy us. It should also help people understand what brings out our best. One of my favorite things is receiving thoughtful feedback from someone who genuinely wants to help me grow. Not criticism for the sake of criticism, and not praise that avoids the hard conversations, but feedback that makes me stop, think, and consider another way of doing something. Another favorite activity is going to dinner with a group of teachers and exchanging ideas about how we can make each other better. Those conversations are rarely about having all the answers. They are about being willing to ask questions, share experiences, challenge assumptions, and leave the table with something new to try. There is something powerful about surrounding yourself with people who care enough to help you improve and trust you enough to let you do the same for them. Maybe that belongs right at the top of my user guide: I appreciate people who challenge my thinking, share what they know, and help me see possibilities I might have missed.

Listening to Angela Duckworth and Adam Grant so close together has reminded me that growth isn't just about working harder or knowing more. It is also about understanding ourselves, staying curious about others, and being intentional about the connections we build. Perhaps pebbling is one small way to strengthen those connections, while a personal user guide is a way to make those relationships more meaningful. Imagine what our schools might look like if we spent less time judging people's reactions and more time understanding them. Imagine if we shared ideas because we knew someone would appreciate them, offered feedback because we wanted someone to grow, and approached mistakes with curiosity instead of ridicule. We may not be able to write a perfect user guide for ourselves, but we can start by helping others understand us a little better—and by making the effort to understand them, too. So, what would be in your user guide? And who could use a pebble from you today?