Saying Yes to #CEL13

There were so many reasons to say no.

When asked to serve as the Conference on English Leadership's Program Chair for Boston, I had excellent reasons to decline.

1.  I am the mom to two small children who were only five and two years old when I was approached about the opportunity.
2. I had only just begun working in a new school district.
3. After two professionally unsettling years, I was only starting to regain confidence (thanks to my great new district) in who I was as a leader.
4.  I embraced my introversion like a security blanket and struggled mightily when pushed outside this comfort zone.
5.  Did I mention the two young children?

Despite all those reasons (and many others), I said yes.  I said yes because I believe in CEL and its mission.  When I became the World's Most Woefully Unprepared ELA Supervisor in 2003 at the age of 28, one of my mentors, Helen Poole, told me about CEL.  I attended my first CEL Convention that fall and learned so much in those three short days.  I have only missed one convention since then.

When I was asked to be Program Chair for Boston, I felt indebted to the organization.  I wanted to (hopefully) provide a professional experience for new and veteran literacy educators that reflected all I had learned during my ten years of CEL involvement.  I had to say yes.  I had to say thank you.

Saying yes opened my professional world in tremendous ways.  It forced me to stop and think about every conference I had ever attended and what worked (or didn't) about each of them.  It challenged me to consider how to bring the right people together to inspire and educate.  It allowed me to invite those educators who teach me - Eric Sheninger, Troy Hicks, Donalyn Miller, Meenoo Rami - to address our entire CEL audience.  It connected me with dozens of talented educators such as Chris Lehman, Kate Roberts, Maggie Roberts, Kate Baker, Colette Bennett and many, many more.

But saying yes opened me in many unexpected ways.  As a card bearing member of the Fiercely Independent Introvert Society, I preferred to do it all and to do it alone.  Guess what?  That is absolutely impossible when planning an annual convention for a national organization in a location 400 miles from home.  I had to ask for help.  I had to recognize the gifts of the many brilliant, generous CEL colleagues and utilize them to create a dynamic professional experience for everyone.  I needed them to delegate tasks, to gather input, to vent frustrations, to celebrate milestones, to make decisions and to remain calm.  I needed trusted friends to tell me when an idea was terrible, and I needed those same friends to help me decide what to do instead.

Saying yes gave me my greatest lessons in leadership.  Turns out, I don't know it all nor do I need to.  As a department supervisor, I have plenty of talented educators surrounding me who can teach me, set me straight and cheer me on when days get tough.  I can honor my introversion by giving myself the quiet time I need to think and process.  However, I can also step outside that comfortable space and make connections with really smart, generous people.  I can take a risk.  I can handle rejection.  I can celebrate my successes.  I can say what I want...what I need...and live to tell about it.  I will be a better literacy educator because of all of these lessons I learned while planning #CEL13.

There were so, so many reasons to say no.  But I said yes.

I am deeply grateful I did.