When I was a classroom teacher, I used to get a big kick out of meeting parents at conferences. I'd be there, talking to an adult, and I'd recognize all the mannerisms and expressions of someone else I had come to know well: their child. I delighted in seeing the reflection of the child in the adult.
I have been similarly intrigued by my observations in my current work as a staff developer with the Teachers College Reading and Writing Project. I have come to know many schools well: by the way the children move through the hallways—silently, boys and girls in neat, separate lines, or in noisy, uneven clumps. I can read schools by the look of the bulletin boards and the way the classrooms are arranged. When I get to know the principal, I realize that, essentially, the school's characteristics are a reflection of the educational values of its leader.
Reinventing Leadership
Around the United States, we're seeing institutes dedicated to leadership reform, and courses with titles like "Reinventing Leadership." In the wake of systemwide moves away from traditional, bureaucratic roles for administrators, many principals are struggling to redefine their place in schools. Several years ago, a principal of a school that was piloting shared decision making said to me, "My job is obsolete now. The teachers are running the school, and there is no place for the principal as leader anymore."
Although some people might cheer at such a statement, I disagree with the premise. What this principal failed to understand is how great the impact of the school leader can be—even when the leadership is shared. Many leaders are unaware of this and, further, unaware that many of the important consequences of leadership style are the unintended ones. What these unintended consequences reveal about the leader is nothing less than his or her most basic educational values.
If we wish to encourage certain educational values in children, we should consider how those values are being played out, or not being played out, in the behavior of leaders in our schools.
For example, most administrators today claim to respect the intelligence of all children. Most favor an educational climate that encourages risk-taking and collaboration. Yet many of these same administrators do not put teachers in charge of solving day-to-day problems in the schools. They come up with the solutions themselves, the teachers carry them out—and the annual evaluation attests to the teachers' compliance. Regardless of these leaders' stated beliefs, their leadership style shows that they do not trust people or believe in collaborative education.
The Essence of a Leader
Leadership style is determined by deep-seated values and beliefs about how people learn. Leaders may call their leadership style whatever they wish—transactive, transformational, top-down, bottom-up—but ultimately, their deep-seated values and beliefs are mirrored throughout the school. One can know the essence of the school leader, then, by looking at the tone and educational environment of the school.
An encouraging style. When Ms. M., the principal of P.S. 333, walks around the school, she sees classrooms where children are encouraged and expected to take responsibility—and there are real consequences for those who don't follow through. School staff spend a lot of time talking about encouraging independence and responsibility; these are values that bind them together (Sergiovanni 1994). Central to this conversation is Ms. M.'s encouragement of the teachers.
Ms. M. makes a weekly list of upcoming school events, committee meetings, and current concerns, ranging from how to spend some extra money for classroom libraries to organizing parent-teacher night. Teachers receive a copy of this list in their mailboxes, and it is posted in the school office. All teacher input is welcome, but teachers must be responsible for taking further initiative. If they don't like the materials that were ordered, but didn't bother to attend the meeting about supplies, they're stuck with making the best of it. Ms. M.'s leadership style, and what you see in the classroom, reflect one another.
Too swamped to get involved. Mr. S., principal of P.S. 888, rarely leaves his office. He is too swamped with paperwork. He leaves the day-to-day running of the school to the two assistant principals. Administrators make decisions about the science fair, the reading curriculum, and the environmental poster competition. In theory, a teacher committee then okays these decisions, but no teacher ever dissents. "The administration wouldn't listen anyway," they tell me. Instead, the teachers vote with their feet: "My class didn't have enough time," "It didn't fit in with my theme. . . ." The administrators get angry, and mutter about lack of follow-through.
In my work, I help teachers follow a workshop approach to the teaching of writing. When I describe individual or even small-group instruction, teachers look at me like I'm crazy. "How long ago did you teach?" one young teacher said to me. "No, the class sizes are too big. Whole-group instruction is the only way to control the class. These kids wouldn't follow through otherwise."
Where did these teachers get this message? Probably not in graduate school. And not from their principal—not verbally. After all, Mr. S. has told me many times how much he likes my writing program's emphasis on the individual. Nonverbally, however, he communicates that he believes in a factory model of education.
Resistant to change. Dr. G., principal of P.S. 999, is gruff yet motherly, with traditional educational values. Development of skills and a sense of responsibility rank high on her list of priorities. She cites her students' good test scores as a testament to the school's success. She views herself as the educational leader, and, as such, always puts one or two suggestions for improvement in every teacher evaluation.
Yet as I work with teachers at this school, I often encounter a resistance born of fear. A teacher might say, "I didn't do this while you were gone because I was afraid it wasn't right." And when I would ask, "You've been teaching for 20 years—what does your instinct tell you?" the teacher might respond, "Well, it might not be how Dr. G. wants us to do it." Even veterans are often afraid to use their intelligence, to make a teaching move, without checking with the principal.
I often suggest to Dr. G. that she should hold schoolwide discussions about learning issues. Her response: "My teachers aren't ready for that conversation."
My teachers aren't ready. . . . This is an oft-repeated refrain, as in "My kids aren't ready." Many times I have seen teachers try to engage the children in open-ended discussions, only to face the children's silence. But how can the teachers engage kids in that kind of conversation? They have no model for it in their own working lives.
If Dr. G. could see what I see, it might lead her to question some aspects of her leadership style. But it also might not: She might prefer order and predictability to the kind of messiness that usually goes along with collaborative, open-ended education. In any case, I wanted Dr. G. to know that children's failure to take risks, their "give-the-teacher-what-she-wants" approach to schoolwork, is an unintended consequence of her leadership style. Does Dr. G. think that this reflects her true educational values? If so, well and good; if not, the school is a mirror to closely examine those values and the ways they are communicated.
Let's Talk About It
Communities are places where people are "bound to values and bond together" in pursuit of those values (Sergiovanni 1996). The best way to see those values take shape in a school is to have frequent conversations about them. Otherwise, the values in the heart of the leader, stated or unstated, will find expression in institutional practice unchecked. Don't dismiss utterances such as: "These teachers aren't ready" or "They never follow through—I have to treat them like children." The teachers may never hear these murmurs, but they will echo them in their teaching style.
Earlier, I stated that leadership style is more a by-product of deeply held values, than a consciously chosen path. But school leaders are not prisoners of the past; they do have the power to consciously alter their approach to education.
According to Lieberman, Falk, and Alexander (1994), "Good kindergarten practice is good leadership practice. It's about acknowledging that each person has different gifts, strengths, and concerns and then finding a way to utilize them. It's about giving teachers a sense of understanding, empathy, partnership, and belonging."
Sensitivity to the role of leader means both examining practice and examining the values that determine practice. Leaders who look to the school to be a reflection of their educational beliefs must recognize the consequences—intended and unintended—and use them in rethinking their leadership.
