That's Not My Job

A coworker saw me sorting trash out of recycling bins in the hallway and asked what I was doing. I told her I was helping out our recycling coordinator—a tiny older teacher who pushes a giant bin around the entire school twice a week. The look on her face said it all: Why are you doing someone else's job?

Here's what I wanted to say: There isn't a magic trash fairy. It's a real person. A coworker we should respect enough to make her work a little easier. Sorting your own bin takes thirty seconds. Sorting everyone's takes hours.

But this moment got me thinking about something bigger.

The Pattern I Keep Seeing

I've been noticing this everywhere lately:

People do exactly what's required and nothing more. Someone sees a problem and waits for someone else to fix it. We spend more energy talking about what needs to happen than it would take to just do something about it.

And then there's the phrase I hear constantly: "Someone should do something about that."

I've been asking myself: What if we're all waiting for that someone?

What I'm Realizing About Ownership

This connects to something I teach about bringing your own value, but I'm realizing it applies beyond just showing up for yourself. It's about showing up for shared spaces too.

When we see something that needs doing and think "not my job," we're essentially lurking through shared responsibility. Waiting for someone else to care enough to act.

Here's what I'm learning: When we don't take ownership, it either becomes someone else's burden or it just doesn't get done. The culture we're building—whether at work, at home, or in our relationships—gets shaped by those small choices.

I think about it like investment versus debt. Ownership is investing in the culture you want to be part of. Avoidance creates debt that someone has to pay eventually.

And I catch myself doing this too. I've been cycling through all the times I could have owned something and didn't. All the moments I decided it wasn't my problem.

Someone Who Got This Right

I worked with a coach who understood ownership completely. Our weightroom was a disaster: old equipment, neglected spaces, nothing working quite right. He didn't wait for budget approval or permission. He just started building.

He ripped up floors, installed new ones, and found deals on used equipment. He turned a swampy field into a legitimate throwing pitch. He shoveled dirt, built retaining walls, and did work no one asked him to do.

He didn't get paid extra. He did it because it mattered, and he refused to wait for someone else to care.

Watching him showed me what ownership actually looks like. Not waiting. Not hiding behind "that's not my job." Just seeing what needs to happen and choosing to be part of making it happen.

What This Actually Means

Here's what's been hitting me: This isn't really about recycling bins or weightrooms.

It's about how we show up for everything that matters. The relationship that's struggling. The underperforming team. The problem in our community that everyone complains about, but no one addresses.

I think we tell ourselves that these things aren't "our job" because we're afraid of the responsibility. Or we're waiting for the right person to fix it. Or we're just too tired to take on one more thing.

But the life we actually want doesn't get built by someone else. It gets built by us deciding that if something matters enough, we're going to do something about it.

And maybe that's the difference between lurking through our lives and actually living them. Not taking on everything, but taking ownership of the things that matter to us.

The Question I'm Sitting With

When I catch myself thinking "Someone should do something about that," I'm trying to pause and wonder: What if that someone is me?

Not because I'm responsible for fixing everything, but because maybe ownership is how we stop waiting for the life we want and start building it.

I'm still figuring this out. But I know the recycling bin moment changed something for me.

What's one thing you've been waiting for "someone" to handle? I'm curious what this brings up for you.

This work is meant to be reflective and shared. If you enjoyed it, let me know. I read every response. If you think someone else will enjoy it, please share!

-Ricky