DisruptEDU

Yup, I’m still here.

Still not writing as much as I’d like, but trust me, there’s a lot rattling around up there on a daily basis. Granted, it happens more at 3am than I’d prefer, but…

I also blame the colleagues that dragged me onto TikTok. You know who you are. And yet, sharing goofy videos has become a new glimmer for me (new here? See Blog #3). I mean, if you can’t find something to make you chuckle (Dancing chickens? Spastic cats? Super snarky employees telling it how it is?), this may not be the blog for you.

As anyone who has been following from the beginning knows, DisruptEDU was the product of seeking my source for some definitive in the three years I spent prostrate to the higher mind (shhh…I don’t have sponsors and can’t afford legal fees…). Being the pragmatic soul that I am, I didn’t expect that my “baby” would have the impact I hoped for… and yet, I have learned quite a bit in the process. And no, it wasn’t (all) from TikTok. The first is that I never want to create another website. The second is that you can learn some really cool stuff when you fall down rabbit holes doing research, and sometimes even the most random things might be useful later on.

I was fortunate enough to be invited to speak at a conference for hygienists this past spring. Me? How exciting! Until a coworker said “Why would they ask you? It’s for hygienists, not educators.” Ouch. OK. But fair point. Though the answer was fairly simple – while education is where I live these days, we all start out as healthcare providers. And the research (we’ve had this discussion, Karen, if you’re looking for references, they’re in the White Paper) supports that disruptive behavior is a problem in the workplace, too.

So… now what? What would I want if I was sitting in the audience, dealing with patients instead of students? My guess? Same thing. A winning lottery ticket. Next guess? Some help. Some answers. A chance to commiserate and be heard. I think it went well – with the exception of the expensive polling software peaking at a success rate of about 70% and having so many issues with the sound system that I suspected I was being punked. Who knew that that spongey little doohickey on the end of the wearable microphone could actually escape? Just when I thought things were under control, the thing yeeted across the stage like it had gotten a better offer. Upside – I made a toolkit to bridge the clinician/teacher gap (the link is on the main page – tell your friends) and managed to leave the stage with most of my dignity intact. I even put the mic back together, though I let it sit and think about its life choices until I was done.

…Didn’t you mention something about flip flops? Lollipops?

Yes, yes. Stay with me, we’re getting there. I recently used the word “circuitousness” in conversation. The freak flag for this moment would’ve destroyed the biceps of a gladiator. My inner monologue instantly lost its s#@%. My husband, who favors a gesture of pulling something out of the air in moments of my stream-of consciousness discussion, just nodded (been there, done that, got the T-shirt).   

The goal of this venture is to reduce disruptive behavior. To make our work more effective. To improve communication. To preserve the physical and mental health of ourselves as well as those we care for, both on the job and when we go home. That said, the interventions, especially in the academic arena, are a bit…lofty? Idealistic? Grandiose? Break out the thesaurus (not a dinosaur, sadly – but it would be a nerdy badass), and oh, boy, she’s gone off track again. The point – or problem – is that even those of us who WANT to implement some of these interventions and conduct our own research (CALL ME!) don’t have the time, the resources, or, let’s face it, the energy.

The pivot to addressing these behaviors from a strictly clinical perspective was the motivation for the toolkit. Breaking the problems down into more practical, accessible ideas for those lucky enough not to have to write an Annual Activity Report (you don’t want to know, trust me) made sense. And yet, because I’ve been wearing the shoes of someone expected to produce souffles with an Easy-Bake Oven for five years, even these “tools” might seem a bit…much.

How do we break it down even more? It all comes down to how we respond in the moment. Do we put out the fire, or reach for the gasoline? Is it possible we don’t even realize we’ve tossed a match into a room full of fireworks? It’s not QUITE like putting on your own oxygen mask before helping someone else, but it made me think of something I read in one of those research rabbit-holes (I can just imagine your surprise).

I stumbled across an article about police in the UK handing out lollipops to people leaving nightclubs and bars. Oh, and flip-flops to those wearing high heels.

HEY! HEY! She did it! She got to the freakin’ lollipop part!!! Jeez, I swear I started reading this thing at least a MONTH ago!

The (absolutely stellar, IMHO) idea was to reduce verbal exchanges amongst the “revelers” which often led to fighting and other aggressive behaviors. In addition to the fact that it is difficult to shout with a lollipop in one’s mouth, it was also noted to have a calming effect. In some places, flip-flops were handed out to those wearing high heels and having trouble walking to prevent injuries. These tactics were so successful that Canada and Ireland joined the party (so to speak…or not).  

This simple act was shown to prevent disruptive behaviors. Now, before you call in the firing squad to take out the hygienist for recommending handing out candy to reinforce negative behavior, hear me out. Is this not a great example of a small intervention that is saving people from themselves as well as each other? AKA, check yourself before you wreck yourself…or someone else.

Yes, we can make plans. And policies. We should be aware. And be self-aware. The small things (like that stinking microphone) are often the proverbial last straw, but what if they can also help us? When the “big picture” interventions seem out of touch, reaching for the simple answer to help our students, our colleagues, our patients, and ourselves may be more useful. Stress and disruptive behaviors are a vicious cycle. Helping to defuse a stress response for someone else, or recognizing that we need to do it ourselves, is a small step toward tackling a large problem.

Lollipops not the most practical? Any simple form of distraction can help to redirect our focus. A tactile distraction, like a worry stone, stress ball (I’m a fan of the drama llama), or fidget spinner may work for some. A favorite scent, for others (within reason, please do not carpet bomb your office with patchouli or rosewater and blame me). Maybe keeping a deck of positive motivation cards on hand works for you – the NSFW ones are the BEST, btw. One of the things that made me do an internal happy dance when returning to these articles was the mention of police also handing out “bubble pens.” As mentioned in Blog 3, I’ve used this as a glimmer… if you want to see a group of stressed-out adults turn into a group of giggling children, I highly recommend it.

The simple solutions are often the best, yet also easily overlooked. I’m not suggesting that we give up on the big-picture interventions (blasphemy!), but not every problem requires an IRB and a statistician (#sorrynotsorry). I am not willing to give up on my quest for any tool that helps make our day-to-day lives feel less like an academic version of the Hunger Games. So here is my challenge to you, faithful reader (or newbie, we’re all friends here)…find the little piece of the prevention puzzle that works best for you, your students, and your colleagues, and revel in its simplicity.

And if it’s the “sucker punch,” it will be even sweeter.    

~Jaymi