The Lucky Green String

Every year, St. Patrick’s Day turned the open floor into a sea of plastic shamrocks and forced cheer. There was a potluck, a “wear green or get pinched” joke that refused to die, and the inevitable moment when someone would nudge him and say, “C’mon, you’re Irish, right? Say something in Gaelic!” He wasn’t. His last name just sounded like it could be on a pub sign. By the time March rolled around this year, Liam had already decided: he would keep his head down, get his work done, and wait for the decorations to come down.

On the morning of March 17, he arrived early to avoid the crowd. The office was quiet except for the hum of the lights. He dropped his bag at his desk and noticed a new bulletin board by the break room. Across the top, in crooked green letters, someone had pinned: “WHAT LUCK MEANS TO ME.” Underneath was a basket filled with small pieces of green string, each tied to a safety pin. A handwritten note said, “Take a string, share a story, pin it when you’re ready.”

How to connect with AgileDad:

- [website] ⁠https://www.agiledad.com/⁠

- [instagram] ⁠https://www.instagram.com/agile_coach/⁠

- [facebook] ⁠https://www.facebook.com/RealAgileDad/⁠

- [Linkedin] ⁠https://www.linkedin.com/in/leehenson/

Is Agile Coaching a Waste of Money?

Around the world, software organizations are desperately trying to improve how their teams build and deliver software. Companies will hire herds of “wise sage” coaches to bring them out of the Dark Ages but are often disappointed when nothing extraordinary happens. Despite pouring loads of money into coaching efforts, their applications still fail to perform, their customers are still not having their needs met, and it still takes forever to get an idea to become reality. This project is 50% over budget, that one has missed three delivery dates now, and nothing seems to be going as planned. While all this is going on, agile coaches are hard at work “making the world a better place.”

How to connect with AgileDad:

- [website] ⁠https://www.agiledad.com/⁠

- [instagram] ⁠https://www.instagram.com/agile_coach/⁠

- [facebook] ⁠https://www.facebook.com/RealAgileDad/⁠

- [Linkedin] ⁠https://www.linkedin.com/in/leehenson/

Celebrating PI Day!

“I finally see where I belong” often starts quietly, almost by accident. A student wanders into a Pi Day event because there’s free pie, not because they think math has anything to do with them. They expect to feel like an outsider again—another room where the “real” math people will do the talking. But as they listen, they hear a guest speaker casually mention being the first in their family to go to college, or struggling with math in middle school, or switching careers into STEM later in life. The stories sound less like polished genius and more like persistence, doubt, and small, stubborn steps forward.

As the activities unfold, the room feels different from a normal class. There’s laughter during a silly pi‑recitation contest, teams arguing over who measured a circle more accurately, someone proudly wearing a homemade π shirt. Instead of being tested, everyone is invited to play: to estimate, to experiment, to be wrong and then correct themselves. In that environment, the student stops seeing math as a gate guarded by a few brilliant people and starts seeing it as a language that anyone can pick up, slowly, with practice.

What makes Pi Day powerful in this story isn’t the number itself; it’s the way the day reframes who “gets” to enjoy math. The student notices a teacher cheering loudest for the kid who improved their pi‑digits record from 7 to 15, not just for the one who recites 200. They hear peers admit, “I thought this was going to be boring, but this is actually kind of fun.” For someone who has spent years feeling like they’re on the outside of every math conversation, that small, shared enthusiasm signals something profound: you don’t have to be the best to belong here.

By the end of the day, nothing magical has happened to their test scores. What has changed is the story they tell themselves. Instead of “I’m not a math person,” it becomes “I’m a person learning math, and people like me are welcome at the table.” That internal shift doesn’t show up on a Pi Day poster, but it quietly shapes their future choices—raising a hand one more time, signing up for the next course, or even mentoring someone else who feels out of place. In that moment, surrounded by digits of π and crumbs of pie, they finally see where they belong—and it’s in the circle, not outside it.

How to connect with AgileDad:

- [website] ⁠https://www.agiledad.com/⁠

- [instagram] ⁠https://www.instagram.com/agile_coach/⁠

- [facebook] ⁠https://www.facebook.com/RealAgileDad/⁠

- [Linkedin] ⁠https://www.linkedin.com/in/leehenson/