Why I'm Writing?

A personal reflection to answer the question: what's actually my deal?

Hey, Friends! This post is going to be a little different. My goal here today is to figure out just exactly what the hell I’m trying to do here. Come along with me. Let’s figure this out together.

What am I Even Doing?

I’ve been writing on Substack in earnest since late September of last year. For ten months or so, I haven’t missed a week. In that time, I’ve written a post each Friday about creativity and innovation in teaching and learning. Mixed in with that, I’ve also written three in-depth how-to guides and a ten-chapter novella (or novellette) called Windsor Greetings.

As I sit here writing this, my first post of summer break, I’m starting to wonder why? Just what the hell am I actually doing? What’s this all for?

I don’t mean this from a place of self-doubt or a is this all worth it standpoint.

It has already been worth it. I’ve made some amazing Substack friends. I’ve been pushed to question what I believe by thoughtful commenters on my posts and in the Notes app, and I’ve enjoyed the practice of writing both in terms of the clarity of thought it has provided me and as a form of creative expression. All of that has made these ten months or so worth the struggle of waking up early to stare a flashing cursor in a sea of white.

What I’m giving thought to is what it is about these topics specifically that I keep coming back to, and what I hope to get out of all this writing.

Realizing The Democratic Ideal

As an undergrad, save for a lost year I spent in the upper peninsula of Michigan at NMU, my most formative transition to adulthood took place at Illinois State University, where I completed their teacher preparatory program. Like all pre-service teachers at ISU, I was forced to complete several written reflections on what the school refers to as Realizing the Democratic Ideal.

For context:

Illinois State University has a historic and enduring commitment to prepare teachers and other school personnel who will be responsive to the ethical and intellectual demands of a democratic society. To teach in a democracy is to consciously take up the challenge of improving the ethical and intellectual quality of our societal dialogue by including in it as many educated voices as possible.

Twenty-plus years ago, I found these reflection assignments a bit tiresome, but something about the practice stuck with me all these years later. I think there was wisdom in forcing young people, on the brink of entering the workforce, to consider their role at a societal level. Now I don’t, on a daily basis, think about how my Photoshop lesson on resolution settings for print vs. web graphics will ensure the continuity of our great republic, but I do give serious consideration to design as a framework for understanding and as a modality for problem solving.

In an increasingly polarized world, where it’s getting harder and harder to distinguish between fact and fiction, I genuinely believe that our populace needs skills to discern, reason, and empathize with nuanced complexity and uncertainty. Teachers are on the frontline of preparing the next generation to do just this.

I think what my fellow teachers and I do is important. I also believe that reflecting upon one's practice, regardless of field, is among the best ways to improve. To go through the motions without reflection would be a disservice to my students and, at least in a small way, the nation. Perhaps I have delusions of grandeur and feel all too self-important, but would you rather teachers believed the opposite?

This weekly writing habit of mine has become a public form of reflection for me. I think it has made me a better teacher, and I doubt very much that there’s a ceiling to the benefits it provides.

AI

If you’ve subscribed to my Substack for any amount of time, you know I write a lot about artificial intelligence. I’m a computer nerd, and I find the field fascinating and fun, even if it's also a bit terrifying. Like many, I believe we are on the cusp of a transition that may rival and surpass the agrarian, industrial, and technological revolutions combined.

I remain optimistic that on most time-scales humanity will come out on top, and I’m reminded of a Steve Jobs quote from the 1994 documentary One Last Thing. In it, he said:

Everything around you that you call life was made up by people that were no smarter than you. And you can change it, you can influence it, you can build your own things that other people can use.

See the original clip below:

As it stands right now, AI is a man-made creation, and just like every other invention we take for granted today, people like you and I worked together to bring it to fruition. That means people like you and I have at least some say as to what role it plays in our lives. Perhaps you won’t write legislation (though maybe you will), but you can take a personal stance on it and influence those nearest and dearest to you.

Anyone who says they can predict where we’ll be with AI in the future is at best lying. No one predicted Facebook in the fall of 2000. They still thought buying pet food on the internet was the way of the future. It took a small group of creative, enterprising young people to imagine a different reality.

My guess is that we will see this story played out again—a frenzy of activity peaking in economic hysteria, a tumultuous crash, and out of that rubble, something new will emerge that we can’t even imagine today. My continued reflections on creativity and innovation in teaching and learning are my attempt at understanding where we are headed and what we need to do to prepare students for this unknown and strange world.

Learn by Doing

Roughly ten years ago, I was selected to lead a new curricular initiative at my school. I was to lead the new entrepreneurship program created by Uncharted Learning called IncubatorEDU. The class is predicated on students learning about business by actually trying to build businesses following Lean Methodology. The class features tons of guest speakers and culminates each semester with a pitch competition where real funding is on the line for students interested in taking their business out of the classroom and into the real world.

One of the themes of the class is Build > Measure > learn. In other words, what’s an assumption you have about your business that can be proved or disproved with a market-tested experiment that will yield measurable results that will inform your next move? The teams that achieve the most Build > Measure > Learn cycles each year tend to do the best in the class.

By writing here, I am putting in my own reps to achieve a cycle of learning each week. Each post is essentially an experiment of my thinking. Each view, like, restack, subscriber, and comment is measurable feedback from the marketplace of ideas. When I take that data in, it influences what I do next, and by implementing this framework into my process, I am able to speak from a greater position of authority in my class.

Even if my students don’t go on to become startup founders themselves, the type of thinking that entrepreneurship requires, I believe, will serve them in their future. I try to model that in most of what I do.

My Goals

If you’re still with me, bless you, but also, you might be wondering if there are any other reasons, beyond the altruistic ones, in terms of what I am doing here.

There are, and in no particular order, these are the selfish reasons I strive to publish each week:

1. I’d like to connect with and learn from others around the topics I am interested in.

2. I’d like to build an audience.

3. I want an outlet for creative expression.

To elaborate a bit more, there’s no other pocket of the internet that I’ve found with as many thoughtful and interesting people as I’ve found on Substack. Most of the people in my life will politely listen to me talk about my interests, but few care as deeply as me. Online, I sometimes find myself at the edge of my comfort zone, a feeling of impostor syndrome at times, and that pushes me to grow and improve.

I don’t know exactly what I’d do with a big audience, but I have a sneaking suspicion that in a not-too-distant chapter of my life, having one would be an asset I am grateful to possess. I’m about halfway through my teaching career, and I feel like I’ll have a lot left to give when I retire in my mid-50s. I’m pretty sure I’ll welcome a reprieve from the daily grind of classroom instruction, but I doubt very strongly that I’ll be ready to stop teaching. I’d much rather have an audience to teach to at that point than have to start building one then.

I probably have ADHD. Many in my life have offered me such amateur diagnoses. I get super into things, dive deep down various rabbit holes, and then move on to something new. In the past year, I’ve been into guitar building, collage, and narrative fiction. Before that, e-commerce, YouTube, and ice fishing. Before that, 1,000,000 other things I can’t even remember. Documenting those things here at least provides a through line that somehow feels more meaningful.

I guess that’s it for now.

Thanks for joining me on this literary therapy session. I’ll be back to my normal format next week. Happy summer.

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Two More Things

Remember 15 seconds ago when I said I was into narrative fiction? I’m publishing a novella here on Substack. It’s called Windsor Greetings, and you can check it out here. The first eight chapters are already out. I’d love it if you gave them a read and then checked back on Tuesday to find out what happens next.

Also, good things are better when shared. If you liked this, it would mean the world to me if you sent it to someone who might like it too.

I’ll see you in your inbox again next week.

Until then,

-Mike