When ASCD President Kay Awalt Musgrove recalls her first years of teaching in the 1960s, she mostly remembers William.
At the start of the school year, William crawled atop desks, made Tarzan-like sounds, and had severe problems eating, speaking, and getting along with others. His IQ tested at 71, just above the cutoff for getting extra help in school. As Musgrove persevered in learning more about William and his family, she discovered that his first experience outside the home was, in fact, her classroom. Although his father worked as a clerk, his reclusive mother never left the house, and neither had William prior to attending class. Further, his parents fed him baby food because they were worried he might choke on solids.
But while Musgrove was literally teaching William how to chew, she was also teaching him how to read. He devoured books, she says, so she gave him a constant supply and spent time answering his questions about what he read. At the end of the year, William scored 126 on an IQ test.
"To a young, inexperienced teacher there was no hope for William—the cards were stacked against him on all fronts," Musgrove recalls. "But William taught me to never give up. William taught me that reading can open doors where only walls existed before. He taught me that education was where I wanted to be."
The Skill of Listening
In her current job as associate superintendent of schools for Franklin Special School District outside of Nashville, Tenn., Musgrove is in charge of curriculum and professional development. She still places primacy on making a difference—for school administrators, teachers, and students—drawing on the skills she learned as a principal. And of her 34 years in education, it is her tenure as a principal that makes Musgrove most proud.
Her doctoral dissertation at Vanderbilt University focused on how principals create stress for teachers. When Musgrove became an elementary school principal she vowed that she wouldn't enter the pool of statistics she had studied. Support, not stress, for teachers became her rule. If a teacher absolutely needed workbooks, which were housed 10 miles away, Musgrove herself would drive to get them.
Musgrove, who has been both a National Distinguished Principal and a Tennessee Elementary Principal of the Year, says successful principals know their weaknesses and try to grow through professional development. Taking a tip from a workshop, she made it her trademark as principal to greet students and parents daily in the morning and afternoon carpool lines through "rain, sleet, and all types of bad weather," she laughs.
A Pivotal Point
Musgrove credits her two children with having had an enormous influence on who she is today. In 1982, Musgrove lost her 17-year-old daughter, Stacy Awalt, to leukemia after a long illness.
"It was a pivotal point in my life. You learn that there's an awful lot to life and yet it's very short," says Musgrove.
Just after his sister's death, Musgrove's son Brad Awalt, then in 7th grade, went outside to throw his football around. When Musgrove gently suggested that football "might not be the thing to be doing right then and there," Brad replied, "Mom, you have to do it your way, and I have to do it my way."
Musgrove applied the unintentional lesson her son gave her to her life in education. "I try to use that [approach] to understand why others do what they do," she says, to accept that "it does not have to be what I would do."
The death of her daughter also made Musgrove more aware of the importance of living life fully, of making use of challenges and opportunities, and encouraging teachers to do the same.
Teachers, Be Bold
"I'm pro-teacher," asserts Musgrove. "The most important person in education is the classroom teacher. Everything needs to revolve around those teachers so they can get the job done." But, she adds, teachers need to move out of their "comfort zone" and take "bold steps" to meet the needs of all children, especially in light of, or in spite of, the current climate of accountability.
A bold teacher might be one who has promoted individualized learning for gifted students amid "ordered chaos," Musgrove says, or one who involved the whole community in a meaningful Black History Month celebration for a school that is 80 percent white. In the latter instance, teachers, families, and community members shared stories, danced with drums, andlistened to songs that highlighted the African American experience.
"Those students will remember all of this—the people, the songs, the activity—far more than any textbook reading," emphasizes Musgrove.
Our Cabin Here at Home
Outside of her school day, Musgrove and her husband of two years, Bob, are building an A-frame house on a wooded hill that they jokingly call "our cabin here at home." Rather than drive 200 miles to a weekend getaway, Musgrove says, the two just decided to make their new home and their retreat-in-the-woods one and the same—and seven miles from work.
As a school district leader and ASCD president, however, there may be little time for retiring in wooded seclusion, Musgrove admits. She wants to get the word out to educators about ASCD's opportunities for "professional development and personal growth."
As Musgrove herself puts it, "Those of us who are in leadership positions must take responsibility to recognize and encourage future leaders."
