Entry #30: New leadership position will require
more listening, more reflection, more trust

I found out this week that I will be the Program Support Teacher (PST) for my school next year. Lots of people are asking me what my new position entails. They want to know what I'll be doing and frankly, so do I.

I'm excited by the possibility of designing a position which has in its very title the notion of support or teaming. I thought I'd be all about teaming this year, but my roster of 300-plus students laid those notions to rest pretty dramatically.

Next year I won't teach any classes without another teacher. I plan to develop a roster that allows me to work with each school community one day per week. My idea is to team with our eighth grade advisors in support of their students' exit projects.

In addition, I will have responsibility for organizing our professional development program, including the ongoing CPI model of peer coaching and technology integration. I've been trying to do these things this year, but it has been very difficult because my roster hasn't allowed me the mobility the work requires.

My principal wants me to attend team meetings and work with our new and struggling teachers. I am anxious to share the strategies I have learned in my trainings and experiences as a Critical Friends Coach, but I am aware of the pitfalls of setting myself up as a "fixer."

My biggest questions are about building the trust needed to really impact on our school's overall program. I know from experience that successful teaming is synonomous with trust and that trust takes time. I am also painfully aware of my tendency to rush the process, given the urgency of our kids' needs.

I just got a twinge -- you know, the kind that makes you wonder if the last thing you wrote was true. So the question is, do I rush because of the kids or do I rush because of my personality? Which came first, their needs or my impatience?

I know I need to unpack this one, I've been carrying it around for a long, long time. It's that old "does the end justify the means" thing, but with a very important twist.

As I see it, I can hold up the needs of our students and justify almost anything, including steamrolling over other peoples' learning and working styles, or I can really take this leadership question seriously and respect the needs of my peers.

Writing that last statement wasn't too hard, but living it will really put me to the test. Finding and respecting a happy medium that allows me to be enthusiastic without being overbearing will be critical.

Too much "North" isn't a good thing

A few weeks ago in Chicago, I facilitated an activity called "Compass Points". While most people are a combination of styles, the activity requires you to select a dominant direction. I reluctantly joined the Northern group. You probably know us as the task-oriented folks that want everything done and want it done yesterday.

While everybody needs a little North for efficiency's sake, too much can really mess things up. Unless, of course, you prefer working alone.

In any case, safe in our little group of Northerners, we were charged with looking at how others see us. We were also asked to examine the ways we see others. One of the guys chuckled as he admitted that he sees folks who ask "too many questions" as "just trying to stall and avoid the work."

Major "ouch" time! Even though we could all identify with this colleague's feelings, what he said didn't sound very respectful of others. So the question becomes one of actually being able to read and appreciate other people. Accepting questioning as legitimate and serving a purpose, as opposed to seeing it as a delaying tactic.

The implications for working in groups is staggering, and the impact on my teaching is equally profound.

I have always been frustrated with other peoples' silences when they're asked if they have any questions, whether those people are adults or adolescents. I hate finding out, after the fact, that this one or that one doesn't agree or doesn't understand.

In my teaching this has forced me to look at finding ways to check for understanding along the way, but as a team member or leader, I have often just felt frustrated and sorry for myself.

After all, I've reasoned, if I take responsibility for exposing my questions or positions, shouldn't they do the same? I have not acknowledged -- or understood as legitimate -- the different processing rates that we all possess.

A taste of our own medicine

Lately, I've been doing a lot of work about inclusion. As I read more about learning disabilities, I understand or question much more about different learning abilities or styles.

If so many really talented people -- artists, inventors, scientists and statesmen -- were considered learning disabled, shouldn't that mean that something's wrong with our definition of normal or desirable? Don't we need more folks who think critically and creatively?

As I watched the video F.A.T. City the other night, I was amazed at the simulations that were presented. In this PBS video, an expert treats a class of professionals and parents like learning disabled kids.

He's impatient with them, he barks questions in rapid fire. He's sarcastic and his tone is degrading. People fumble and give up. Highly educated people are unable to function effectively -- and these are adults.

The question which hangs in the air is, how do kids feel when we treat them in these ways? When we assume that "they just need to try harder?" When we act as though LD stands for "lazy and dumb," is it any wonder they shut down or resent our "good intentions"?

The video goes on to show examples of actual misperceptions which some learners have. It shows that even if you're not speaking very quickly, it can seem that way to those who need more time.

When I was in high school I developed a serious case of math anxiety. I had very poor teachers who moved very quickly because I was in fast-track classes. These teachers did not like a lot of questions, and way back then no one was talking about constructivism or authenticated instruction.

I learned to hide my confusion most of the time. I was extremely anxious and embarassed by my difficulty. It was probably the first time in my life that I had ever felt dumb.

By the time I was a senior, I was mature and secure enough to realize that I needed to ask for help. I was moved into track two math class and I began to understand algebra, but the damage was already done.

Fourteen years later, I attended Community College and had a wonderful math teacher. Following his lead, I could solve equations with four variables. He made everything real, and it all made sense. I even enjoyed math again. I felt smart.

Personal styles and mutual growth

So what do these lessons mean for teaming? I understand math anxiety; I've been there and don't want to go back. Have I only been responsive to learning patterns which I share? Have I unintentionally dismissed the learning styles and work habits of my peers as less than legitimate?

I have been aware for a long time that I just click with some folks and that together we can race ahead and accomplish a great deal. Experience has shown me that I've needed to "rein myself in" with others. Some colleagues have decided to look past my "intensity" (to put it nicely) and put up with me so we can accomplish our work.

But I know that I have lost some colleagues and co-workers along the way. I think I've always known that it was a two-way street, that it wasn't just their fault, that our working relationship was less than effective. But I haven't been clear on just what I was doing wrong.

Even the concept of "reining myself in" sounds strange to me now. It implies I could be going faster without you. If my emphasis is on the speed rather than the mutual growth, I will continue to have these problems and our work will suffer. Something tells me I'll be chewing on this one for a long time. But I do know that listening more and reflecting before I present full-blown proposals and plans of work will be key first steps.

I'm thinking that the Small Learning Communities should decide what they think is best, in terms of the themes and classes I should be rostered to support. Once those decisions are made I'll be free to gather resources and team with the designated teachers.

It will be important to respect the fact that I will be visiting in other teachers' classrooms. Not having my own space is going to be strange, and not having my own kids is going to require some getting used to in the beginning. The best way to deal with all of these concerns will probably be to have some honest conversations within each community. Sometimes, I can give the impression that I have it all together, and that can cut against equitable peer coaching.

My bluff and bluster has carried me through many a stressful situation, but it has sometimes cost me the active support and sharing from colleagues that I crave.

Explicit conversations about teaming, our norms and expectations, should help to get us started on what I hope will be a very productive path for teachers and for students.

We will all need to practice the art of self-forgiveness. If we take our mistakes as opportunities to grow instead of seeing them as things to hide, we'll be ahead of the game from Day One. Who knows? Maybe a few teachers will be interested in keeping journals and sharing entries once in a while. I know how important this diary writing has been for me. Perhaps others would be willing to give it a whirl.

Maybe I'll go first and share this entry.


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