Monday, May 27, 2019

The Innovator's Mindset, Chapter 5: Learn, Lead, Innovate

"We manage things. We lead people. That is how we will empower them." - Stephen R. Covey

I have said for years that schools model a shopping mall where each storefront (classroom) is its own entity and there is little interaction between spaces. In a mall, the retail manager may regularly frequent the food court and the food court staff my recognize the manager buying their cheesesteak or coffee, but there is likely little observation of the other's business in what makes for success.

I have characterized my role as a librarian as a go-between, able to view the whole scene and facilitate interaction. More often than not, there is little sharing except within grade levels. Everyone sticks to their own small setting and barrels ahead. It's the way things have always been done. Why change?

What does it take to break that paradigm?

A visionary school leader is one who leads and empowers teachers, not manage them. Years ago, an assistant principal would park his car at the front entrance and record teachers who were as little as a minute or two late. I had a collection of these three-part forms reminding me that I was to report at 7:30 and was observed arriving at 7:32. The language on these forms was defeatist and insulting. This principal - and the whole administrative team as a whole - saw teachers as things to be managed. The state eventually disbanded the school board and took over the district.  Visionary leaders don't micromanage and sweat small stuff. I was very blessed this year to be in a building were administrators would see my work with kids, offer praise, and ask me what they could do to help me grow and reach kids.

An empathetic school leader is willing to roll up sleeves and remember that they were once classroom teachers but are still teachers in a different setting. They know that children are imperfect little creatures, and not every kid is going to "play the game" when their teacher is being observed. They value time, and know there are moments where mental health moments are crucial.

Last September, I travelled to Atlanta to visit a friend I have known since we were four years old. Mike and I lived near each other. His mother raised me as much as my own mother. We played football together, and as offensive linemen we were part of that tight brotherhood. Linemen never get the glory. We don't record statistics. We support those players who DO get the stats, and without five guys working as a unit the whole team suffers. Mike was a state champion and All-American in high school, was recruited by Michigan, Florida State and other big schools, yet chose to attend the University of Missouri, a nod to his mom (Mizzou '63) and a chance for her to attend every one of his games.

His office bookshelf (he's a principal now) showcases four helmets (Jefferson City High, Mizzou, the Cleveland Browns, and the Atlanta Falcons...he had a "cup of coffee" in the NFL for a couple seasons but used his time to get his teaching certificate), books, and a collection of toys and figurines, particularly Star Wars and Jurassic Park.

It's a cool office, but he doesn't spend much time there. We walked the halls and he took time to clean off the tops of lockers (being 6'5" helps with that), follow up with kids on what THEY needed to share, and offering encouraging words to teachers. He prefers to be addressed as "coach" and not "doctor."

A young teacher asked me for insight into this hulking bear of a principal.

"That's simple," I replied. "He is a leader and not a manager. If there is a job to be done, he is the first man in and last one out. He's a coach above all."

Mike also models learning. One morning, he was up early making breakfast and I remembered how he taught the FACS (Family and Consumer Science) kids the art of making scrambled eggs. He and his wife, Ashley, have two boys - one a lineman at Coastal Carolina and the other a tight end being recruited - and the task of feeding them is a task unto itself. When I returned to St. Louis, I approached the FACS teacher and told her I wanted to push in with a lesson on the art and science of barbecue.

I had a presentation where I delved into the regional differences of barbecue cuisine, flavor profiles, cuts of meat, and other aspects. I also brought pulled pork and smoked brisket. The joy I received when a girl took a bite of that beautiful brisket  and said "Mr. Sanders...THIS IS SO GOOD!" was a winner. She showed the smoke ring, the perfect bark, and recapped what I taught her. I knew that I had modeled learning that day.

These are just several examples of what an innovative school leader embodies. We all have the opportunities to lead if we see ourselves as leaders and not managers.


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