The president of a local university agreed to step down after 20-plus years at the helm. His top-down attitude and fierce leadership style were no longer acceptable.
A principal complained that teachers politely listen to her curriculum ideas but implement them only sporadically.
A superintendent told me that it's difficult to get anything done these days. "Everything is a battle," he said.
A common thread in these situations is that leaders have less authority than they did in the past. Authority is different from power: We still have power to make decisions that affect teachers and students, but it's hard to get the consent and support of others, which is necessary if we want to get big things done.
Too often these days, people don't assume that leaders are knowledgeable or sincere. That's true in politics, business, and, alas, in schools. Our societal expectations have changed. Virtually all the education leaders that I know are people of wisdom and integrity. But too often they're operating in a climate of cynicism and distrust. What can be done?
Maintaining Relationships
Our authority stems from our relationships with others; they need to know that we're on their side even if they don't always agree with our decisions. Consequently, the most important leadership skill is listening. In reality, even if we always hear, we don't always listen. Hearing is merely auditory; listening means taking time to understand and consider others' perspectives. When we listen to others, we let them know that we respect them. However well we think we listen, we can do better; it's that important.
We must also recognize that relationships require ongoing reinvestment. We cannot just assume our teachers will trust that we work from a shared vision that keeps their interests in mind. How do your teachers know what you believe and value? When was the last time you talked about your vision for your school with your faculty? Try beginning the year each fall with a State of the School talk that includes what you believe and hope to see.
A focus on relationships is especially important in today's score-obsessed culture. Yes, test scores are important—but they only capture a piece of a child's growth. Our faculty needs to know that we see students as more than percentiles and teachers as more than people who teach to tests. Think about beginning a faculty meeting by giving everyone an index card and asking them to write their conclusion to the sentence, "When I think of my students, I believe … " Have teachers share their comments aloud—with you reading yours first. This exercise will engender a valuable dialogue and can be a consensus-building step.
Sharing and Listening
Isolation diminishes authority, so it's important to share and share some more. People often want to know what's happening even if it doesn't directly affect them. What's being talked about at the central office? How do attendance rates and discipline patterns compare to a year ago? What new strategies are you trying? What are you reading? It's also valuable to create opportunities for teachers to share what they're doing with the rest of the faculty. This sets the stage for everyone to learn with and from one another.
Throughout the year, I send out surveys to solicit teachers' thoughts on what's happening at school and on my performance. Better than surveys, however, is bringing people together and listening to them. Last year, I convened teams of teachers for "Joyful Learning, Joyful Teaching" meetings. I asked them how I could help ensure that joy was the norm at our school. I recently convened a group of teachers and asked them what they thought about our school climate. The discussion was framed around two questions: "Does our climate support student growth?" and "Does our climate support your growth?" Most of what I heard I already knew, but I also heard some things that worry me. Many of my teachers feel there are too many curricular thrusts and directions, and they're concerned that we keep adding things to their plate.
As essential as listening is, it's only the beginning. Unless we communicate what we have learned, others might think that their voices didn't matter. I wrote a joyful update memo to the faculty after last year's meetings, for example, summarizing what teachers said about fostering joy and what I would do—and I will also share the information and plans from the school climate meeting. Hearing without listening can be worse than not hearing at all, so it's important to let people know how we'll use what we learn from them.
Authority doesn't come from a title, degree, or position. It comes because others believe in us and trust us. They know we care, and they know we listen. This can build up over time, but it can erode quite quickly. Every year, we need to reinvest in our relationships with our faculty. What can you do to show that you've listened?
