The What-If List 2025

Let me explain why I created a what-if list instead of traditional goals – and why it might work better for fellow goal-setting avoiders.

An aversion to Goal Setting

As a former teacher turned instructional coach, I’m well-versed in SMART goals and their effectiveness. But let’s be honest – they’re about as exciting as those PLCs we all love to attend at 3pm, looking for cookies in the lounge to keep us awake.

These days, I’m more of a systems girl (thanks, James Clear). I’ve built habits that work, making traditional goal-setting feel like writing a grocery list of things I’m already buying.

Then comes January – gray, cold, and convincing me the sun has permanently ghosted my vitamin D-deprived skin. Cue the self-improvement podcast binge.

So here’s my compromise: I’m keeping my working systems (because they work), but I’m scratching that self-improvement itch differently this year. Forget goals – let’s talk about what-ifs.

Why What-If?

Last year, one of my friends called me an ask-hole, and it was one of the best compliments I’ve ever received.

In case your not twenty, an ask-hole is one of those people who keeps their hand up after the meeting time has ended, and prevents you from being able to escape, for eternity.

Asking questions is my calling card. You may notice the very name of my website is itself, a question. Meta.

Before you go pegging me as one of those dreadful types, I prefer to keep my what-if lenses rose colored. What-if’s can have a dark side, but those rarely lead to interesting solutions or creative new ideas.

The following are examples of regular What-If questions that randomly raise their hand in the meetings of my mind:

What if dinosaurs still lived in a swamp in Africa?
What if aliens landed in my backyard and wanted to hang out with me?
What if I have a magical talent, but no one could see it but me?

While the possibility of aliens choosing me out of 7 billion people feels exciting, I’m smart enough to know that I need to keep this within my sphere of control, so I ruled out any What-Ifs that would rely on other people, or aliens.

To take it to the next level of believability, I added the things I would have to believe and the skills I would need to develop to make these things a reality.

On to the list!

THE What-If List 2025!

What if I complete the first draft of my fiction novel by June of 2025?

What would I have to believe?

I will have to believe that writing fiction is actually more fun than it is hard.
I will have to believe that I am a creative person.
I will have to believe that as long as I sit down to write, the story will make its way onto the page.

What skills will I have to develop?

Remain consistent, writing at least 200 words every day until June.

What if I became so literate in AI that I could solve problems easily, and focus on elevating human skills as a thing of value?

What would I have to believe?

I will have to believe that I can learn AI in a way that is fun and purposeful.
I will have to believe that I can find AI tools that are built for solving the specific problems that I face.
I will have to believe that AI is going to change how we all work in positive ways.

What skills will I have to develop?

Learn which AI tools already exist and how they are solving problems similar to my own.
Practice using the AI tools in order to curate my favorites, while exploring new features.

What if I participated in a community of educational professionals working to make positive change in education at the policy level?

What will I have to believe?

I will have to believe that my unique perspectives and experiences are enough.
I will have to believe that I deserve a seat at the table.
I will have to believe that positive changes can be made in education at the policy level.

What skills will I have to develop?

Attend local meet-ups and events where I can network with local educators.
Participate in conversations on LinkedIn or other online forums with people who are already working to make changes.
Share insights and resources on this platform and grow my audience.

What if I started a podcast that was all about what-if questions, where I could talk about that time I really thought aliens did land in my backyard?

What will I have to believe?

I will have to believe that other people will want to listen to my crazy ideas.
I will have to believe that it is another way to build my platform and my creativity.
I will have to believe that it will be a fun way to learn and develop my skills.

What skills will I have to develop?

Learn how to podcast.
Ask other people to be on it.
Create a list of topics to talk about and a format for each episode.

How to Create Your Own What-If List

Step 1: Dream big. Try to imagine anything and everything that could possibly happen. If you can’t think of anything, get on social media. You will have a list of crazy things faster than you can say “Bigfoot made friends with my cat.”

Step 2: Narrow it down. Keep the funny ones for inspiration, but put them somewhere that you can look at them fondly, when you are procrastinating what you are actually supposed to be doing to make your what-ifs a reality.

Step 3: Dig deep. What are you going to have to believe about yourself and others to make your what-if possible? Be specific about the skills you need to develop in order to make the list easy.

How Star Wars Inspired My Creative Professional Journey

In January of 2020, I wrote a blog post titled “Becoming Hospitable to Ideas for Writing.” While I like to think all my posts are special and interesting, this one is significant, in that it marks the one and only time I have documented my ability to foresee the future.

You see, in this post I claim, “something is coming.” I hope I don’t have to go into too much detail here, as I said it was January 2020.

I’ll admit, I used the words awesome and epic to describe what I felt was on the horizon, so I’m not sure I truly had a grasp on the appropriate emotions that I would feel the rest of that year.

The most important thing I captured in that blog post was the blessing I received from a young padawan on New Year’s Eve, 2019: “May the Force Be With You.”

As of this writing, it is not yet New Year’s Eve, 2024. Yet, I feel once again as though “something is coming.” I’m crossing my fingers I’ll be in the right place at the right time, and get another Jedi miracle to embolden me through the unknown in 2025, and although I am hesitant to get too excited, (see year 2020), the words epic and awesome feel somewhat fitting.

So, while I wait to cross paths with a Padawan, Wookie, or Jedi master, It feels relevant to look back on everything I have learned since writing that fateful post in January 2020. Because although 2020 brought so many things I’d rather not ever have to relive, it also marked the beginning of my path as a creative professional.

What is a creative professional?

The creative part

Google “What are the creative professions?” and you won’t find jobs like teacher, general contractor, doctor, or accountant. In the past, as in before AI, a creative professional was a name reserved only for those working in the arts: performance, visual, language, etc.

As an educator, its hard not to take offense to the idea that my job does not demand creativity. My husband is a general contractor, and is the most creative person I know. Humans are creative beings.

Are you considering becoming a creative person? Too late, you already are one. To even call somebody a “creative person” is almost laughably redundant; creativity is the hallmark of our species. We have the senses for it; we have the curiosity for it; we have the opposable thumbs for it; we have the rhythm for it; we have the language and the excitement and the innate connection to divinity for it. – Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic, 2015

So can we just agree that everyone is already creative, we just have to claim it for ourselves. We have to remember that everything we know today has been built by those who were willing to connect unlike ideas, take risks, follow their curiosity, and imagine something different.

The Professional Part

So, what have I learned over the past five years is mostly about being professional. I could talk to you all about meeting deadlines, wearing nice clothes, and carrying a whole lot of responsibility, but I wouldn’t be telling you anything you don’t already know.

I guess we have to define these things for ourselves. The seven year old I met on that New Year’s Eve was a professional. He believed it, so I believed it. Now, he did have the look, complete with padawan braid, clothes, and a lightsaber. Therefore, I won’t say your appearance doesn’t matter. However, the most powerful thing was that he owned his identity.

Maybe that is what it means to be a professional. To own it. Sometimes, we are afraid to say we are a professional anything. Sounds cocky. Or, it could be we are worried we will fail at whatever it is we are saying we are a professional at, because we will.

What if we start balancing big important words like professional with comfy cozy words, like creative? Creative professional sounds like peanut butter and jelly. The jelly makes the peanut butter go down smoothly. Or, macaroni and cheese, everyone likes cheese. No one eats noodles plain.

How to Be Creative and Professional

I wonder who first thought to put jelly and peanut butter together, and why it stuck? I remember eating mayonnaise and peanut butter sandwiches as a kid, but I don’t know anyone who still eats that, not even me.

Also, did peanut butter and jelly sandwiches inspire trail mix (fruit and nuts), or was it the other way around? I should ask ChatGPT.

Anyway, Star Wars and Sandwiches aside, the following is a short list of things I’ve learned over the past four years of practicing skills as a creative professional.

Listen, observe, pay attention.
Curate based on personal experience.
Focus on getting better, not being your best..
Have a vision for the future, recognize the messy middle, and celebrate the work that has come before.

Listen, Observe, Pay Attention

Listening is a skill that must be practiced continually. I’m going to call this level one, surface level awareness. It also means turning down the volume in your own brain. Essentially, listening is really choosing to understand something or someone other than yourself. Listening is not thinking.

Observation means having your eyes and mind open. Level two awareness. Are all of us just looking for things to confirm what we already believe? When you observe someone or something, what do you see? Essentially, observing is really choosing to understand something or someone other than yourself. Observing is not thinking.

Paying attention is level three awareness for a reason. Paying attention is an act of service, compassion, and empathy. When you are paying attention to a person, you are showing a level of awareness of them, beyond what they are saying or doing. When you are paying attention to something, beyond what you see, you have the incredible privilege of assigning meaning.

When you pay attention, you have the opportunity to assign positive intent. You get to believe that this person means well, that they are doing and saying the best they can, with the tools, knowledge and resources they have available to them. This is creative professionalism when working with people.

Curate based on personal experience.

Curation, by definition, is selection. The world we live in now is almost unlimited in its offerings of choices and opportunities. I know that sounds like the opinion of one who comes from a place of privilege, and I am not denying that. However, I have known poverty in my life, and I still had choices, lots of them, even in the 80s.

More than selection, curation denotes a collection, of things or ideas. I’m trying to think if we curate people, like do I collect people? Or places? More on that later. In the traditional sense, curators work in museums, libraries, and such to protect, interpret, and care for objects of significance.

What is significant than? It depends on you and what matters. I wonder what a padawan would curate? (Another great question for AI.)

In my life and work, I want to hold on to ideas and tools I’ve tried out and found to be effective in lots of different circumstances. What is a tool I can use for most things? In education, its easy to get overwhelmed with resources, busy work. I’m looking for tools to get people talking, laughing, and building new thinking. So I mostly curate structures for cooperative learning strategies, games, and discussions.

“The smartest person in the room, is the room.” -David Weinberger

Focus on getting better, not on being your best.

It used to drive me crazy when I worked in a school where the admin would say things like, “Are you being your best today?” Ug!

Now, I don’t believe he was directing this toward me personally, but it was the message we were supposed to be sending to our students, everyday. No, we cannot be our best every day, nor should we try.

Being the best kind of assumes we already know everything. Like there’s no room for improvement. There’s good, there’s better, and then there’s THE BEST. Is there anything better than being the best? I don’t like it.

I read a book this past year called Learnership, by James Anderson, and it was the best. Ok, just kidding about the best part. Anyway, a big takeaway or validation for me was his advocacy for focusing on getting better. How can we value getting better over being your best? Anderson says we need to develop a relationship with learning. We should focus on achieving growth, not simply achieving goals. That way we can get better at getting better.

Have a vision, recognize the mess, and celebrate.

The single most critical motivator for me is the future. I think this might be because it’s guaranteed to happen. It is the reason I try to take care of myself, the reason I’m writing every day, the reason I participate in work and relationships. Its motivating because I am an optimist. I believe things will get better. Or at the very least, I believe its my job to make it look like it is better, so my children won’t be afraid to keep living.

In education, we have to believe it will get better. More than that, we must have some kind of vision for what it could be. AI is promising to cut teacher time on administrative tasks, allowing them to be more engaged in student relationships. I’m excited about leveraging these tools to create more personalized and equitable learning models, and I think if we can shift our mindset toward the humans, rather than the content, education will be changed for the better.

In the meantime, we are all in the messy middle. Things are a mess, and that is ok. Take some breaths, recognize what is working right now, and try some new things. Being a creative professional means failing…a lot. Failing in the midst of a bunch of failing makes it much less noticeable.

Finally, creative professionals understand that focusing on what works, is much more effective in creating change than what is not working. Notice anything and everything that works, try to name why it works, and apply some version of it in your life, your work, your relationships.

May the creative force be with you

Just as the Force flows through all living things, creativity flows through every professional endeavor. Whether you’re a teacher, contractor, or aspiring Jedi, embracing both your creative and professional sides isn’t about reaching some distant galaxy – it’s about trusting your instincts and staying open to new possibilities.

I’d love to hear about your creative professional journey in the comments below!

Teaching Writing is a Problatunity.

I’d like to use a word I just read in a book, used by an actual doctor, which makes it a real word. The word is problatunity. My Grammarly app just put a big red line under that word telling me I better fix it. I’ll use it in a sentence: Teaching writing is a problatunity.

Don’t you just love when people take two words and smoosh them together and make a new word? Why not? Its two things we know, problem and opportunity, and creating something new and more delicious. Like the first person who decided to put peanut butter and jelly into the same sandwich. Problatunity.

Yes, it’s a problem and an opportunity. In order to turn that frown upside down, let’s focus on the bright spots, build on the strengths, and look for what’s working.

Here’s some opportunities:

Writing is connection. A writer uses craft and structure to reach out into the world, searching for another heart and mind to create a spark. A spark, which if tended and encouraged can become a fire, giving warmth and comfort.

Writing is expression. It’s art. We have this desire to be seen and loved for who we really are. Writing is a mirror for ourselves and others. It shows us the way, or reminds us of what is important.

Writing is a conversation, happening regardless of time and space. If there were no one to read the writing, would it still be writing? If a tree falls in the woods…

Here’s some problems:

Writing is a privilege. There are many who might like the freedom to raise their voice without persecution. Most of the time the persecution comes from the very same pen that did the writing in the first place.

Writing is translation. It is essentially trying to express abstract thoughts into organized concrete symbols on a page in a way that conveys meaning. Think of all the processes those thoughts have to go through, all the decisions that have to be made. Ug, it’s exhausting. I’m exhausted right now.

Writing is hard. Words on a page are tangible, real. Words you write have the potential to stay. Anything you write can and will be used against you. Yes, we have freedom of speech in this country, but a verbal contract just isn’t what it used to be. I’m just sayin’, seems like writing matters a bit more.

Writing is rules. Every good writer knows the rules. All of them? And how do you use a semicolon again? Don’t get me started on spelling.

Here’s the problatunity:

According to something called the Standford Study of Writing, we are in a writing revolution folks. Hallelujah. More people are writing now than ever before: social media, emails, reports, books, posters, blog posts, etc. Writing is actually working. As in, it’s doing some work in the world. Writing is creating change. And as things change, rules change.

However, the rules may not be changing, we are. This writer calls rules lampposts in an ash-ridden apocalypse. Boy do I love me some lampposts on a dark and dreary night.

Maybe this means we actually like rules, just not when they hold us back. We want to get out there and create new rules, rules that keep us safe but also allow us to explore and discover and create our own rules.

Its kinda hilarious that the problem is almost always the solution. Life, this funny thing. Rules are the way, know them, break them. I’m sure some yoda-like character said that in some movie, somewhere.

Here’s the application:

How can we take what is working in the world and recognize it in our students? That’s really what we should be doing every day right? Seeing ability in our kids, naming it for and with them, and guiding them through how to use it in powerful ways.

Students are learning the rules. All the time. Rules for this classroom are different than the rules in that classroom. Rules for the cafeteria, rules for the playground. Rules for friendships, rules for safety, and on and on we go.

To be honest. I love rules. I almost dare say I can’t function without them. When I walk into a room, I immediately try to figure out the rules. Knowing the rules helps me understand how to behave, because I also like to have fun. Having fun usually includes breaking the little rules. The really tiny rules. The ones no one really cares about. Ya, I’m that crazy party animal breaking all the tiny invisible rules. Back it up everyone.

The point is, how can we teach our kids the rules, but also how to break them?

Let’s remember that the rules for writing are lampposts. They are guidelines. Practice. Write every single day. Play. We learn the rules and we decide if they apply today. Writing, people, I’m talking about writing.

Here’s the Practice:

When teaching writing in our classrooms, we want our students to see more of the opportunities and less of the problems. It is time to lower the stakes. Low-stakes writing is defined by where the value is placed. As teacher’s we often place all the value in writing on the rules, otherwise known as grammar and conventions.

What if we emphasized the value of the student thought, expression, and ideas? Students have learned to keep quiet. Specifically, “be quiet” is generally a rule in education. Let’s break it.

What if we develop a practice of writing where none of the rules matter? What matters is that they stop editing and revising their thinking before it ever even gets to the page. You can bet they have a lot to say. I dare you to sit down with an eleven year old and ask them about anything.

Here’s the Magic:

Set a timer. Set it for 2 minutes. Stop. Count your words. Set a goal for more words tomorrow. Share your writing if you want.

That’s it folks. The magic is in the time limit. Its the only rule.

Ah, and rules are meant to be broken.

Read my 6 Big Reasons to Love a Writer’s Notebook post for additional classroom structures that will have your students loving writing and you reading their minds!

What Do You Do With A Problem by Kobi Yamada speaks to everything I have mentioned above and is a powerful read for humans.

*“When the child finally musters up the courage to face it, the problem turns out to be something quite different than it appeared.”*

Ish by Peter H. Reynolds is one of my favorite mentor texts for supporting students as they learn to let go and write a first draft.

**A creative spirit learns that thinking “ish-ly” is far more wonderful than “getting it right.**
“

Like Butter on Pancakes, or What I’ve learned after a Year of Writing

There is a wonderful children’s book called Like Butter on Pancakes by Johnathan London that describes the perfect day in the country where the sun streams in and melts on your pillow. Butter on pancakes is an appropriate metaphor to describe the blessings and hardships of the year, and developing a habit of writing.

The pancakes, or the stuff the butter sits on

I really like butter, pancakes not so much. Even science is coming around to the fact that butter is probably good for you. Turns out, pancakes are just the thing that holds all the good stuff. You can’t just eat a plate of butter and syrup. I guess you could, but you might not feel very good about it.

This year has been a plate full of pancakes. Like, all you can eat pancakes for me, emotionally. Remember, I said I don’t really like pancakes. They aren’t even sweet enough to be called cakes. They are just a flat piece of heavy kinda cooked dough. 2019 was a giant stack of dry, thick pancakes that I could’ve choked on if not for the butter.

In order to tackle the stacks, I set a goal at the beginning of 2019 that I would write 500 words every day. In order to stop complaining, I started a blog and named it Rachel What If.. and even published something almost every month. A brain dump in a spiral notebook each morning is an invaluable way to put things in their proper place, instead of vomiting them in random conversations where they don’t belong.

Butter, or the good stuff I’ve learned

Aside from the constant love and support of my family as I struggled through this year, developing a writing habit has been the butter. Butter makes everything richer, easier to swallow. Here are the big takeaways from this year:

You have to understand yourself before you can understand others.
Stop being so disappointed in yourself so you can stop being disappointed in others.
When you love yourself fully, you listen to your tears, are compassionate about your shortcomings, and understand your anxiety as a gift from your better, wiser self.
Love and fear can be in the same room at the same time, but fear cannot be the one making any decisions.

Writing is how I introduce myself to myself. It is how I find out things I thought I had forgotten. It is how I discover what I really think, and how I get rid of all the stuff that doesn’t matter.

Some of the most relevant books I read this year by Elizabeth Gilbert, Ann Lamott, and Stephen King allow me to put things in perspective.

The Cinnamon Roll, or A Year of Rachel What If

If I could eat anything for breakfast, without guilt, or gaining lots of weight, it would be warm gooey cinnamon rolls. There is butter all through those babies. In fact, maybe 2020 will be the year of the cinnamon rolls.

As I think about this last year, I wouldn’t take back a single pancake. While considering what to call the blog a year ago, I settled on Rachel What If because what if is the very beginning. It’s the place where all good stories start.

I’ve been reading Stephen King’s book On Writing, and this morning, he reminded me again why the name of my blog is so appropriate. He says on page 169, “The most interesting situations can usually be expressed as a What If question.” Reading this at this time, I know it’s more than a coincedence. The year of writing that began with a What If question: What if I am a writer? It’s pretty cool to have lived a year of it.

Look what I just found laying around the house. Coincidence? I think not.

How to be a beginner: A girl’s guide to snowmobiling and other scary stuff.

My forearms are aching a little as I write this, and my right thumb is pretty sore. I finally got that floating feeling I think you’re supposed to get when your sled is gliding along the surface of mad powder. You couldn’t have asked for a better day. Blue skies, layer shedding heat, and stuck city. Being stuck on a snowmobile is great, as long as it’s not you. If no one is getting stuck, either the snow isn’t great, or everyone is playing it too safe (no one is playing it too safe, except maybe me.) Although my sled somehow found itself submerged a handful of times throughout the day, I still walked away from the day with a deep pleasure and satisfaction that I skillfully and gracefully (I only mumbled a few inappropriate words) made it through another fear-crushing day.

Snowmobiling scares me. In a “what if I die today” kind of way. I’m sure I don’t have to explain the many, many things you can think of that could turn a beautiful day in the back-country into a serious nightmare. Still, there seems to be a big part of me that craves this adventure. People who know me would most likely not describe me as one who “lives on the edge.” According to the Aerosmith version, I’m not. I have realized however the importance of taking risks, and confronting your fears. So, here, in no particular order, are a few things that are critical to success when beginning snowmobiling, or anything else that scares you to death.

Ride with the Big Boys…and Girls

For several obvious reasons, it’s best to do things like this with a group of people. Not just any people, but the ones who know what they are doing. My husband has been riding snowmobiles, and other motorized fun machines, since he could stand up. He speaks the language, diagnoses the problems, and inspires the competition. Most importantly, he loves it. It is a part of who he is. Words can hardly express the reverence and respect he has for the untouched parts of the world he gets to experience on a machine. These are the people to learn from. They live for and love what they do, and they do it on a regular basis. They also welcome those who are willing to try. But, you’ve got to be out for the right reasons. Be ready to fail, ask for help, and be humble enough to follow direction. Don’t let your ego get in the way.

D.B.A.I.

Don’t Be An Idiot. I know this may seem harsh, but it’s been a running joke in my family over the last few months. It’s kind of like Jeff Foxworthy’s old line “Here’s your sign.” Last week, a foot of heavy, wet, -perfect for playing in- snow had dropped overnight and I had to go to work. I was also running late, and knew it would be a long, slow drive on icy roads. When I went out to start my car, the door handles wouldn’t budge. My car was covered in ice and snow. I stomped back into the house and asked for a “little help.” My husband kindly came out and tried pulling all the door handles. I looked at him with raised eyebrows, thinking “How am I supposed to get to work with my doors frozen shut?” Finally, my 17 year old son asked if it was possible the doors were locked. What? Much to his delight, my doors magically and effortlessly opened after pushing the unlock button on the remote. D.B.A.I.

It is pretty funny when we do stupid things like my “frozen door” incident. All laughing aside, when you are in the back-country, or trying out new things, it’s best to do a little research first. Years ago, I found an article in a snowmobile magazine explaining, in detail, the steps for getting your machine unstuck. Going to battle with a 500 pound machine, waist deep in snow, can be defeating and debilitating. Aside from the right tools, and more hands, it helps if you have a little background knowledge. Because I had spent a little time reading up on a skill I would inevitably need, I am able to get myself out of some difficult situations. As I mentioned before, your going to need the help, but no one wants to do all the heavy lifting for you all the time. Don’t be an idiot.

Get New Goggles!

There’s nothing worse than fogged up goggles. On my last ride, I had to stop several times to wipe the fog out of my goggles. I tried riding without them, but it was snowing so hard I still couldn’t see the trail. “Just breathe less,” I kept telling myself. Really, breathe less? Anyway, my wonderful husband bought me a sparkly new pair of goggles, and I tried them out yesterday. I rode for about 10 minutes and was pretty happy to find that I could breathe and not fog up. To top it off, I also realized I could remove the protective film from the inside of the goggles and see clearly! I could see and breathe! Let’s not over complicate things. Remove the obstacles to joy. It could be some really simple things that are keeping you from amazing experiences and finding your talent.

I previously wrote a blog post where I discovered my need to make meaning out of every experience. Snowmobiling is something I never thought I would get good at or even enjoy. I still cry almost every time I go, but I also laugh, scream, and shout things inside my helmet I would never in my regular life. We all carry fears, rational or otherwise, that could be keeping us from our greatest potential. I will probably never be the best rider on the mountain but that isn’t my goal. I go because I know I need the adventure and the challenge. If I can do this, I can do other things, and I can inspire others to follow that path.

Would you share your fear-crushing story in the comments? Thanks for reading!