Last week I drove my son to his high school graduation ceremony. It was quite different from the usual gala celebration marked by masks, distancing, and everything we learned to do. Sitting in a car parked on a sleepy street behind the school, waiting for him to return, I could not help go back in time to my own high school graduation, or matura in Polish. It was a big deal. First, a few months before, we had to write trial exams. If you pass, you will be allowed to take the real thing in May and June. Math and Polish were mandatory, and on top of that, each student was asked to choose two more subjects to complete the set. Of course, those four major tests were accompanied by the marks on all other courses taken in grade 12. It was a lot of work to graduate, not to mention to get good enough marks to try one’s luck at post-secondary institutions.

At the time, elementary school covered grades one to eight. After that, students could choose either a public high school or a specialized trade school to give the student the high school diploma or a trade certificate. I went to a regular, general high school located a few hundred meters from my home. It was a large structure with a red-brick facade and rhythmical windows giving it a pretty modern look. It was built in 1932. The school operated until 1942 when it becomes a military hospital. The building was partly destroyed in 1945. However, it was quickly renovated, and its original purpose resumed. My parents moved to an apartment adjacent to my old high school, and when we visit them in the summer, I often go with my son to play basketball or ultimate on the same courtyard I played, and on which my father played.

When I went to drop off my application at the main office located on the first floor, the old lady behind the counter said: "Aha, Ronczewski... well, your father was a handful." Yes, there are some perks to growing up in a small town. Once enrolled, students could choose a regular program or, for instance, an enhanced math program or one with a chemistry/biology focus. Either way, we all had to get through four years of math, physics, chemistry, history, geography, biology, Polish, PE, art, one additional language -English, French, German or Russian, the army training class—it was the 80s. The Soviet block was still strong—and lastly, the application of practical skills: cooking, woodworking or sawing. This is a pretty complete list of things to learn. Thinking about this now, I realize that there was not a single post-secondary school I could not apply to. Of course, there was a question of marks and passing entry exams, but nothing was missing in the curriculum that would stop me from becoming a doctor, an engineer or an artist. I decided to try my luck on on the last of these. High school was all about getting a full range of basic knowledge, from the multitude of sports to music classes, art or experiments in physics and chemistry. We were allowed to sample, to try if we like it or not. There was no option to skip courses or to settle on a much narrower path. It was all about the range of learning.

It was all very different. Was it better? I don't know. It was forty years ago. Perhaps we will always compare and see the past as a better version of the present, at least when we look at education. I understand that the school my son went to offered a high level of flexibility in choosing courses. However, it's all based on the number of credits required to graduate. On the one hand, the ability to tailor your courses is excellent, but frankly, it is tough to make the right decisions at this age. For instance, not taking chemistry in grade 11 will eventually lead to most science-based university programs being out of reach. Or focusing on science will not give you credits for the art-based programs. The system is geared towards an early choice and a narrow career path which, in my opinion, is a big mistake—a mistake with long-lasting consequences. My son told me that he knows students who needed to take only one class in grade 12 and still graduate. One class! Can you imagine? If you take away the gowns, caps and tassels, the crossing the stage and finally, the prom ball, which this year is not happening anyway, what is left? Is it still a big deal? Perhaps.

The high school graduation isn’t my sole inspiration for writing this post. I am reading Range by David Epstein. A fantastic book about the choices we made and discovering what we genuinely like to work on. Epstein brings in examples from tennis to chess to the way of solving problems using analogies. And at the end, he clearly shows that individuals, and teams for that matter, who can discover innovative solutions to complex problems use a wide range of views and knowledge.

First, we heard about the T-shaped people (a good base knowledge combined with one specialization), then the N and M-shape individuals. It seems that the one or two specializations are not as important as the knowledge fabric covering as much area as possible. The range is what matters the most. We need more "hyphens" or "dashes," people who comfortably dive into problem-solving in a setting that uses different approaches - not just one view. Here is a quote from the book:

"When all the members of the laboratory have the same knowledge at their disposal, then when a problem arises, a group of similar minded individuals will not provide more information to make analogies than a single individual."

At Ibbaka Talent, we were able to collect, catalogue and describe thousands of skills. This collection alone is a perfect place to start thinking about our own skills. It opens doors to finding more skills to analyzing what type of work brings joy and a high level of effectiveness. What roles and jobs match skill profiles? What kind of team would enhance my own abilities, and, in return, what could I contribute to the team effort?

Recently, Ibbaka Talent launched the Design Thinking Open Competency Model. We invite people to start using it, make modifications, collaborate and build on it. When you combine Skill Profiles with a Competency Modeling Environment, you get a solid foundation of tools to uncover hidden career paths, skills and learning resources to overcome the specialization problem. Yes, I do think specialization is a problem. When you hear jokes about the left-ear doctor, it means that something is missing. And it starts with our education. Instead of opening all possible doors, we close them one by one in the name of giving a choice and supporting freedom. But we forget that true freedom doesn't come from doing less work. It comes from wide-open views on all matters and a conscious decision that, yes, I may need to do more work and study harder. It is my choice, though. Therefore I am free.

We need far more range to bridge the narrow view, which is getting thinner year after year.