The overhaul

“Okay, good start on the basic design, but there are definitely some issues to address.” (Image by Tati Halabi)

For me, idealism is a key ingredient of successful teaching and coaching.

A foundational belief is that anyone (not everyone, but anyone) can learn what I am trying to teach them. They have to be willing to put in the work and it might take awhile, but talent is overrated and effort is more important.

Unfortunately, this idealism is also a liability. When I can easily visualize how something could be, I can get frustrated that it is not that way. So instead of working within the bounds of an existing system, I want to change the entire system.

For example, as a math tutor, I don't just want you to be able to carry out a procedure to pass a test — I want you to understand the concept fully, and all of the foundational concepts it is built on.

Nobody wants this from a math tutor, so I have not made my career as a math tutor.

In teaching music, I've been more successful in balancing the needs of the existing system and my idealistic notion of building a person's musicianship for the long haul. After all, both involve learning to play musical pieces competently before an audience.

But I can no longer tolerate the existing piano and guitar method books out there and the basic sequence that they use to introduce concepts. I felt compelled to make my own materials, which have not been published and therefore are no real use to anybody.

And in teaching people to teach music, I have a hard time knowing how to proceed without asking them to strip away everything and start over from scratch, an approach that is not only arrogant, but inconvenient.

When it comes to business, however, I feel as though I've finally achieved a more practical mindset that is immediately helpful to others.

In running a business, it is costly and unnecessary to do a huge overhaul. You simply start where you are, focusing on the most pressing problems, and work from there.

Idealism has its place when it comes to the mission of a company. But in terms of day-to-day operations, we stay pragmatic and bottom-line oriented. That helps us to sort through the infinite menu of what is possible and focus without fear that we're missing out on something.

Will a new logo help us to increase profit while advancing our mission? Will it make us more effective? A case could be made, but the answer is not necessarily. We don't have to start over and create something perfect from the ground up. We don't have to wait until our old camper van of a business is Instagram-worthy before we hit the road — we can spruce it up along the way. In the meantime, we're enjoying the sights and making new friends.

Whether it's math, music, or marketing, I want to guide in such a way that my protégé is compelled to stick with the skill. The best way I know to do that is to make sure that the person experiences good results. When we see the benefit of what we're doing, it motivates us to continue.

Good results in math and music come from a strong foundation. Good results in business are measured by the ratio of profit to effort. Selling bottled water out of a cooler in the parking lot of the ballfield on a hot day doesn't require that you have a painstakingly built foundation the way you do to master Scarlatti or rational expressions. All you need is to spot the opportunity and position yourself to take advantage of it — to see what people want and to give it to them. Those people don't care how many hours you've practiced or how hard you worked. They just want the cold drink, and they're grateful that you're there, in the right place at the right time.

Having learned to respect this truth, I'm working to reconsider my assumptions about where else an overhaul is truly needed. Maybe I can find a way to teach music and math with integrity that doesn't require starting at the beginning or rebuilding a foundation. Maybe I can start where people are with that, too.

I used to give up and start over, give up and start over when I was doing something that wasn't turning out like I wanted it to. I've grown more comfortable with accepting imperfections and working with what I've got instead of overhauling it. I am giving it a chance instead of giving up. Sometimes, it's important to get it right from the get-go — but not always, and am learning to tell the difference.