2 posts from March 2008

I'm so ready for the end of school I can't stand it.  I'm becoming a worse teacher because of it.  I've stopped writing lesson plans (I still prepare for my lessons, just on scratch paper).  I've become a worse disciplinarian because I don't want to stay after school and hold detention.  I do very little work outside of school (which means I have to be super-efficient during school).  But despite all these negatives, I'm also starting to do some reflection on my two years.  I feel like if there's one thing I did well, it was being available for my students.  I know so much about their personal lives because I've taken time to ask questions, drive them home, and speak with their parents.  I'm going to miss being an open ear to so many of them. 
I'm also dreading that conversation when I tell my students I'm leaving.  The majority of them won't care I'm sure.  I'll be just another teacher who didn't have the conviction to stick it out -- another teacher they feel they drove off (and they're partially right).  But several of them will be sad and disappointed I'm sure.  And so will I.  I've been going over the words in my head, and I've been debating whether to tell them the real reasons why I'm leaving or to sugarcoat it.  I feel like they deserve the truth, but I'm not sure they could fully comprehend it. 
Two events coming up that I'm also looking forward to, I guess in part as a way to say goodbye: prom and graduation.  Last year's prom sucked because we were the only suckers who actually showed up at the time the invitation said, thus sitting there by ourselves for 1 1/2 hours before we finally called it quits just as everyone was showing up.  And graduation as the culmination.  There are only a few seniors who I feel very close to.  I'm afraid I'll get emotional, but I do want them to know that I'll carry their memories with me.  I'm a little scared to think about them out in the real world.  But I guess (just like the parent most of them don't have) I'll have to let them go.

I think the two biggest keys to being a principal (one of which my own principal possesses a wealth, the other of which he is sorely missing) are communication skills and brutal honesty.  I realize that those two may seem contradictory, given that generally when one is being brutally honest, he is not necessarily choosing his words carefully.  However, I see them as operating in two separate spheres. 

      In order to be an effective principal, you simply must delegate authority and power.  There is no way you alone can run everything that goes on within the school smoothly.  Therefore, you must make it abundantly clear to your subordinates what and, almost more importantly, how they are responsible for.  I think my principal is pretty clear in what he is asking for most of the time, but he is not nearly specific enough in how he wants it executed.  For example, I know that students are not allowed to come back up the hallway in the morning once they go down to their homeroom; that has been stressed on numerous occasions.  However, I do not know what to do if someone is caught coming back up, because they have obviously already slipped by undetected, but may be returning to their original homeroom or even to the office.  Am I supposed to send them back to a room where they are not scheduled to be?  This lack of communication causes more headaches among the faculty at my school than is necessary.

      I also think that communication skills go both ways.  Not only must you, as an effective principal, disseminate your knowledge and instructions, but you must be willing to receive feedback from those who are following your orders.  You must admit fallacy and be willing to tweak or modify your plans when something is obviously not working.  However, if you are not willing to take advice or suggestions from the people who are on the front lines and know best, it seems you are destined to repeat and expound the same problems again.

      Brutal honesty is something I still struggle with.  Even after two years of teaching (and admittedly, my backbone has strengthened somewhat considerably), I still have a problem telling people, whether they are students, peers, or administrators, exactly what they need to hear.  I’m too much of a softy, and often my language is misinterpreted or not taken nearly as seriously as it should be.  This could definitely be a problem as a principal. Can you imagine the different responses of a student when giving the following commands: “Son, tuck your shirt in now” vs. “Excuse me sir, but do you realize your shirt is untucked?”  I generally fall into the latter category.  I recognize it, but there is still something genetically coded in my personality that fights against coming across as a jerk, even when that is completely necessary.  And being a jerk is okay (to some extent) as a principal.  As my principal so often reminds us, he has “no friends in this business.”

      But I also believe that brutal honesty extends beyond the relationships with students.  When addressing statistics, changes in school culture, discipline problems, or teacher apathy and incompetence, brutal honesty must be the only policy.  Otherwise, you risk another month, semester, or even year of mediocrity.