This article is adapted from Ted's podcast episode 359: Dedication to Gratitude (Process and Leadership).

The Mixtape Method

I was out running the other day when a memory hit me so hard I actually stopped mid-stride. It was 1983. I was eleven years old. And I was holding a cassette tape that my best friend Gus had just made for me.

One song. Terrible quality. Recorded off the radio, then recorded again from that recording. But it was the most valuable thing I owned. Because Gus had dedicated it to me.

That memory sparked something, and by the time I got home from that run, I knew exactly what I needed to share with you. Not just about gratitude, which we all know matters. But about dedicated gratitude, the kind that stops you in your tracks decades later because someone saw you and made the effort to show it.

The kind that changes everything.

When Gratitude Becomes Compliance

Let me start with what doesn't work, because I've seen this play out too many times in organizations I work with.

Picture a leader sitting at their desk with a spreadsheet open. In that spreadsheet are all the names of people in their organization. Next to each name is a checkbox. The task? Send everyone a gratitude card. Make sure everyone gets recognized. Check the boxes. Prove you did it. Sounds good in theory, right? Everyone gets appreciated. Nobody feels left out. The data shows 100% completion.

Except the staff figured it out. They realized the cards weren't genuine expressions of gratitude. They were compliance steps in a bigger process. The moment gratitude becomes a task to check off, it loses its power entirely. I'm not saying we shouldn't be systematic about appreciation. We absolutely should. But there's a massive difference between creating genuine opportunities for recognition and treating gratitude like a performance metric.

The difference is dedication.

A Fifth Grader and the Labor of Love

For those of you who didn't grow up in the cassette tape era, let me paint you a picture of what it meant to make a mixtape in 1983. My eleventh birthday changed my life. My grandma gave me a tape recorder because she'd watched me play with hers every time I visited. My Aunt Marcia, the queen of creative recycling, gave me a stack of records she no longer listened to. Elton John. Supertramp. The Beatles. Blood, Sweat, and Tears.

I already had a record player in my room, but now I had the power to make my own tapes. To curate my own musical experience. To have control over what I listened to and when. You have to understand what this meant in an era before playlists, before streaming, before the internet. Making a 60-minute mixtape took all day. Literally all day.

You'd sit by the radio for hours waiting for a single song. You'd position the tape recorder right next to the speaker, hit record, and pray nobody walked in yelling about dinner during the chorus. You'd play records, hit record, then stop and rewind if the quality wasn't right or if someone interrupted. The sound quality was terrible. But it didn't matter.

Because you were in control. Because you were creating something. Because every song on that tape was there for a reason.

My friend and neighbor Gus had a tape recorder too, and we'd spend entire afternoons making tapes together. We'd bring over our records and 45s, share them, record from each other's collections. We'd make exchanges, trading tapes like currency. But getting new music was the real challenge.

The Dedication Line

If you wanted music that wasn't on the radio every hour, you had one option: call the radio station and request it. Now, in 2025, this is going to sound absolutely insane. But stay with me.

We had one family phone. Connected to the wall with a cord. No call waiting. No caller ID. If the line was busy, you heard this awful beeping sound and had to hang up and try again.

After 7 p.m., the radio station would take requests. For us, it was WKTI 94.5 FM. And when you called, you almost always got that busy signal. So you'd call back. And again. And again. Twenty or thirty times. Sometimes you and your friend would take turns, both trying to get through. And then, once in a great while, someone would answer.

"Dedication line. What's the song? Who's it for? Who's it from?"

You had to be ready. As a kid, something would come over you and you'd instinctively disguise your voice. I have no idea why, but I felt like my request had a better chance if I sounded like an adult. The DJ would answer and I'd say, "This is for Julie from Mark. I'd like to hear Rio by Duran Duran."

Julie was my mom's name. Mark was just an alias I used because I was worried a friend might recognize my voice. I never wanted to be weird about it. One particular night, Gus and I were trying desperately to get Rio recorded for the mixtape we were making. I finally got through.

"WKTI, what's your song? Who's it for? Who's it from?"

"Rio by Duran Duran for Julie from Mark."

The DJ laughed. "Kid, you don't have to pretend." Then he hung up. Gus and I freaked out like we were in trouble, busted for our charade. But we waited. We sat there for what seemed like forever. And then we heard it.

"Well, there's a young man named Mark out there somewhere who was a little nervous to dedicate this song to his crush Julie."

The song started. The DJ talked over the intro like they always did. Then, just as the vocals kicked in, he stopped talking. Gus and I hit record. Click. We were silently jumping around the room, celebrating that we'd finally gotten our song after waiting for hours. And then, just as the song was wrapping up, my tape recorder stopped. Click.

I was crushed. I didn't get the whole song. I ran out of tape.

Gus smiled because he had enough left to capture the entire thing. The song was over. My shot was gone. Culture Club came on next and we quickly flipped our tapes over to record that too, because who wouldn't want to figure out what a karma chameleon is? But I was devastated.

The Dedication That Lasted a Lifetime

The next day, Gus and I were out in the driveway playing basketball before school like we did every morning. Whoever hosted at their house got to choose the music, and that day it was Gus's turn. He walked out with his tape player. Then he handed me a new cassette.

"I made this last night," he said. "It's for you."

I plugged in the player. Hit play. The tape hissed. Then I heard Gus's voice. "Turn it up all the way, Teddy."

And then I heard it. "This is a dedication to Ted from Gus." Rio kicked in.

He had made a new tape from the tape we'd recorded the night before. A recording of a recording. He'd dedicated it to me, just like the radio station dedicates songs. It was the only song on the entire tape.

"Let's go make some more mixes after school tonight," he said. "We can start with your new one."

He saw that I needed a boost. He was thoughtful and generous enough to make me my own dedicated tape. He said it was because we were best friends.

That is dedicated gratitude.

And I still remember it forty years later.

The Science Behind the Feeling

That memory from 1983 matters because it teaches us something essential about how gratitude actually works. Not gratitude as a checkbox. Not gratitude as a strategy. But gratitude as a genuine, dedicated expression of seeing someone and showing them they matter. Research backs this up in powerful ways. When people regularly receive genuine appreciation, several things happen:

Trust increases dramatically. Gratitude signals to people that you see what they're doing. It creates psychological safety. People who feel appreciated are more likely to share information, take interpersonal risks, and build stronger bonds with others.

Relationships strengthen. Gratitude activates reciprocal behavior. When you show someone genuine appreciation, they're more likely to show appreciation to others. Teams that regularly practice authentic recognition have more cooperation and less conflict because people know they're coming from a position of seeing each other's strengths.

Engagement skyrockets. People who feel valued at work report being significantly more motivated and committed. Recognition is consistently one of the top drivers of effort across every career field. When you know someone sees your contribution and values it, you naturally want to contribute more.

Personal well-being improves. Both giving and receiving gratitude hits dopamine. It makes everyone feel good. It reduces burnout because people understand where they stand. Grateful teams have higher resilience when working through challenging times together.

Performance rises. When you know where you stand and someone tells you you're doing good work, you do more of it. Simple as that.

Retention increases. This is especially important for those of you working in schools. When you dedicate time for gratitude with your students, those students have a greater reason to come to school. They have more faith in you, more trust in you. And here's what you cannot forget: when they trust you and know you see them for who they are and what they bring to the world, they're never going to want to miss being around you.

That's how we increase attendance. When they never want to miss being around you, they learn more, grow more, and go into their future stronger.

Culture transforms. Gratitude practices reinforce shared values and community. They increase morale. Most importantly, they allow people to be genuine and authentic because they see others recognizing them for who they truly are.

But here's the key: all of this only works when the gratitude is dedicated. When it's specific. When it's personal. When it requires effort and intention. When it's the equivalent of making someone a mixtape.

The Mixtape Method

So what if we took the mixtape concept and applied it to gratitude today? What if we made showing appreciation require some effort, some creativity, some personalization? What if we turned it into something memorable instead of another generic "good job" message? This Thanksgiving, I'm trying something new. I'm calling it the Dedication Playlist method, and here's how it works.

I'm sending a text to all the members of my family and all of our guests. In that text, I'm assigning each person another person to dedicate a song to. Then I'm asking them to send me:

• The song title
• The artist
• The reason they're dedicating that song to their assigned person

Then I'm going to compile all those songs into a single playlist. We're going to play it during Thanksgiving dinner, or dessert, or games. I'll also create a sheet showing all the songs, who they're dedicated to, and why they were chosen for that person. Then we'll invite others at the table to add other reasons why we love and appreciate each person.

Every member of our celebration will hear their song and the why behind it. I can assure you it's going to be awesome. Do you know why I know that?

Because I know how it feels to have someone dedicate something to you. I remember that amazing feeling when the radio station would call out a song I'd nervously dedicated to a girl I liked. I remember being eleven and having Gus dedicate a song to me that he'd recorded off a recording from the radio. The quality was terrible. But it didn't matter.

It felt amazing. Thoughtful. Intentional. Meaningful. Both people end up feeling grateful and appreciated. That's what dedicated gratitude does.

Beyond the Holiday Table

Now, you don't have to wait for Thanksgiving to do this. You can apply the Dedication Playlist method anywhere:

In your workplace: Have team members dedicate songs to each other during team meetings, explaining what that person brings to the team and why the song represents them.

In your classroom: Students can dedicate songs to classmates, celebrating what makes each person unique and valued in the learning community.

In your family: Make it a monthly tradition where different family members get to dedicate songs to each other, building a growing playlist of your family's story.

In your leadership: Dedicate songs to people you lead, publicly sharing why they matter and what they contribute that others might not always see.

The beauty of this method is that it requires effort. You can't just check a box. You have to think about the person. You have to consider what song represents them or your relationship. You have to articulate why. You have to be vulnerable enough to share it publicly. Just like making a mixtape in 1983, it takes time and intention. And that's exactly why it works.

Three Questions for Your Journey

As you think about how you're going to practice dedicated gratitude, I want you to consider three questions:

What song would you dedicate to someone you love, and why? Take a moment right now and think about it. Who's the person? What's the song? What would you say about why you chose it for them? Don't just think it. Write it down. Better yet, send it to them.

What process can you playfully implement to help others soar with your appreciation? How can you build regular, creative opportunities for recognition that don't feel like compliance but instead feel like celebration? What's your version of the mixtape?

What is your process for genuine and playful recognition of your gratitude? Not the generic stuff. Not the checkbox stuff. But the real, dedicated, "I see you and here's proof" kind of gratitude?

The Buffalo Way

Here's what I believe about gratitude and leadership: we are all leaders because a leader is anyone who has influence over another person. Every day, every week, every minute, every second, we're influencing others through our actions, our attitudes, our processes.

And part of being a good leader is being a good follower. Taking the lead from others, following the mission, collaborating, holding ourselves accountable, being resilient, and choosing to be engaged in the work we do. Because it is, after all, a choice.

Empathy guides all of it. Wondering what it would be like to be the people around us. Putting ourselves in position to really engage with the emotions and feelings of people we support and serve so we can do what's best for them. We do that by reflecting each day, asking ourselves: What has gone well today? What should I change for tomorrow?

Because each and every day, we are buffalo leaders who charge into the storms we face. And buffalo leaders understand something essential: we make the world better by dedicating ourselves to elevating others. When we show people they matter, when we make the effort to demonstrate genuine appreciation, when we dedicate our gratitude to them in ways they'll remember, we give them the courage to charge into their own storms.

We reinforce their relationship with themselves and let them know where they stand so they can stand confidently in their own life and leadership.

Your Challenge This Week

So here's what I want you to do. Don't just read this and move on. Actually do something.

This week, dedicate a song to someone and tell them why. It doesn't have to be complicated. Send them a text with the song title, artist, and a sentence or two about what they mean to you and why this song makes you think of them.

Then take it further. Try the Dedication Playlist method at your next team meeting, family dinner, or in your classroom. Create space for people to celebrate each other in creative, memorable ways.

Make gratitude require some effort. Make it personal. Make it dedicated. Because generic appreciation is like elevator music. It's there, but nobody really hears it. 

Dedicated gratitude is like a mixtape from your best friend. It's personal. It took effort. It shows you were seen. And it lasts forever.

The Song I'm Dedicating to You

I can dedicate this entire episode to you. To the buffalo leaders like you who step into storms for yourself and others. Who take time each week to listen to these ideas about how we can grow as leaders. The buffalo leaders who aren't afraid to be innovative, optimistic, and caring. Who make the world a better place.

From Ted to you, here's why: You're amazing. You're going to do great things this week. You're going to do great things today. And as long as you keep remembering the three things you have control over, your happiness, your engagement, and your choices, you're going to do great things as a leader forever.

So you know what? Regardless of what you're doing this week, let's go shake the world. Because when we dedicate ourselves to seeing others, to showing them they matter, to making the effort that proves we notice their light, we don't just change their day.

We change their trajectory. Just like an eleven-year-old kid with a tape recorder and a best friend who saw him, really saw him, and made him a mixtape. That's dedicated gratitude. That's smart thinking.

Now go make someone a mixtape. However that looks in your world, whatever that means in your context, go dedicate your appreciation to someone who needs to hear it. They're waiting for their song. And you're the one who gets to play it for them.