The word has come to us via the NAIS February E-Bulletin that David Mallery has left us. As with the loss of Ted Sizer, I am shaken.
Anyone who ever met David or who attended any of his extraordinary programs for teachers and administrators automatically moved into the category of "Friend of David." His uncanny ability to remember and place faces and names is legendary, but I believe this stemmed from his deep, consuming interest in the individual stories that identify and differentiate us all. To receive a call from David about an article he had seen was to be reminded of how much he cared about teaching as a profession, about teachers as a group, but above all about each individual teacher in the independent school world--and he seemed to know and think about most of us.
I first met David when I attended the Experienced Pro Seminar nearly 20 years ago. The program triggered the first real crisis of faith I had ever had as a teacher, and when I told David about this years later (I kept coming back to Philadelphia for more, because those crises of faith in turn provoked soul-searching that strengthened my belief in myself as a teacher), the ensuing conversation was one of the most significant I have ever had.
David Mallery inspired just about everything I have done with regard to thinking and writing and speaking about this profession. He holds a place in the acknowledgments of both An Admirable Faculty (the NAIS book on hiring and professional development) and The Intentional Teacher (about being an independent school teacher), but above all he holds a place in my head and my heart as the foremost example of what I have strived to accomplish in my work and musings on behalf of those who labor in independent schools--and as one of the finest, warmest people I shall ever know.
RIP, my friend.
NOTE: NAIS is collecting memories of David here.
Continue...
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
MIddle Management--A New Vision
Arguably the most interesting and compelling article on leadership and management that I've encountered in the past few years is "What Makes Leaders Succeed" in the November 2009 Korn/Ferry Briefings. Essentially a summary of a longer scholarly schedule to appear in a future issue of Leadership Quarterly, the article lays out the results of research into the effectiveness of certain kinds of managerial behaviors.
In a nutshell, the authors of the study (titled "Testing the Leadership Pipeline")--Robert B. Kaiser, S. Bartholomew Craig, Darren Overfield (all of Kaplan DeVries Inc.) and Preston Yarborough of the University of North Carolina at Greensboro)--have researched and identified the leadership skills and styles that are most likely to be effective for "executive," "middle management," and "supervisory" leaders. It turns out, in a latter-day echo of the Peter Principle, that the most effective behaviors at each level are quite different; the Korn/Ferry summary even has a nifty graphic to illustrate this that only my respect for copyright laws prevents me from inserting into this post.
In all the reading and work I have done on school change, I have been struck over the years by what I have come to call "The Department Heads Problem," the tendency of many school administrators to lay at the door of department chairs at least some of the responsibility for foot-dragging that slows and sometimes stalls change initiatives. The summary, and the graphic, started me wondering. (See some earlier blog posts on this topic.)
In our schools we often regard department chairs as "middle managers," and so I wondered how the positive traits identified by Kaiser et al. played out in my anecdotal experience; they didn't, quite. So I sent Robert Kaiser an email asking just how he and the authors of the study would define middle management, in schools and in business.
I was pleased when Kaiser responded not just with a quick answer--middle managers are "responsible for managing other managers...most functional heads are considered middle managers, too"--but also with a copy of the full study, which has kept me busy, and I have to say enthralled, for a day now.
By the definitions Kaiser et al. have drawn from the literature and set forth in the full study, "middle managers" in independent schools are NOT department chairs but rather virtually all members of what schools regard as their administrative teams or cabinets. The only real "executive" in most schools is the head of school, responsible to the board and the key player in enunciating and setting in motion implementation efforts for strategic plans. While a few schools may have associate heads or other "senior administrators" who function at an executive level, in most smaller schools even assistant heads are essentially middle managers, charged with oversight of either important school functions (finance and operations, admissions, development) or the leadership of academic divisions.
Department heads, in this schema, are "supervisors," not middle managers. Interestingly, the behavioral qualities associated with effectiveness at this level are "Learning Agility" and "Work-Life Balance." Predictably, "Abrasiveness" is highly correlated with non-effectiveness, but so is--get this--"Supportive Leadership." By the terms of "Testing the Leadership Pipeline," effective supervisors--department heads, mostly--are characterized by quickness of apprehension and the ability to compartmentalize work and personal life. Somewhat strangely, "Directive Leadership," "Empowering Leadership," and "Lack of Follow-Through" are neutral factors.
Schools are human places, where we put huge emphasis on such qualities as supportiveness and "empowering" others--these are the things that we like to think we are best at. And yet, for the hundreds of supervisors in both for-profit and non-profit organizations studied by Kaiser and his team, these things don't much matter at what in schools is the analogous level, except insofar as supportiveness actually interferes with effectiveness. One imagines that many department heads, newly risen from the faculty ranks, might easily err on the side of being supportive of department members when a more matter-of-fact, nearly directive style is called for.
Empowering Leadership and (whew!) Abrasiveness are the negative factors for effective middle managers, but Supportive Leadership joins Directive Leadership and Learning Agility as positive factors; Lack of Follow-Through and Work-Life Balance are neutral. This made a whole lot of sense to me as I shifted my definition of middle manager upward to the administrators I have known and the work we are asked to do in schools. But being a directive leader can be a tough transition for a teacher-leader in whose world the gentle, supportive cajole is often the most effective tactic.
At the executive, or head of school level, Empowering Leadership--effective delegation--becomes a key skill, but Learning Agility is paramount, more important than for middle managers or supervisors. Directive Leadership (one thinks perhaps of micromanagement), Work-Life Balance, and (finally!) Lack of Follow-Through are strong negatives. Supportive Leadership and Abrasiveness are neutrals.
Much of the point of "Testing the Leadership Pipeline" is about the challenges leaders face when making transitions from level to level, and the simple schematic makes it easy to see what these might be.
For schools, in particular, the paper speaks to the importance of making careful choices when hiring or promoting, at every level. While the literature cited suggests a failure rate of about half of executive appointments, the failure levels at middle managerial and supervisory levels are not insignificant. How schools prepare staff for upward transitions is critical not just to the success of the individual but, of course, to the overall success of the institution.
I would strongly urge anyone involved with hiring and orienting department heads, school administrators, and heads to check out the summary and to seek out the finished paper when it is published. In it lies considerable wisdom, backed by extensive research, and a tremendous resource for independent school management as a whole. The premises and points could drive a whole new approach to recruiting and training school leaders.
I want to underscore that the point of the paper is not just about filtering or screening people, rejecting some and advancing others based only on personality traits. The big idea is that people can be helped to grow in known and necessary ways in order to be successful.
Continue...
In a nutshell, the authors of the study (titled "Testing the Leadership Pipeline")--Robert B. Kaiser, S. Bartholomew Craig, Darren Overfield (all of Kaplan DeVries Inc.) and Preston Yarborough of the University of North Carolina at Greensboro)--have researched and identified the leadership skills and styles that are most likely to be effective for "executive," "middle management," and "supervisory" leaders. It turns out, in a latter-day echo of the Peter Principle, that the most effective behaviors at each level are quite different; the Korn/Ferry summary even has a nifty graphic to illustrate this that only my respect for copyright laws prevents me from inserting into this post.
In all the reading and work I have done on school change, I have been struck over the years by what I have come to call "The Department Heads Problem," the tendency of many school administrators to lay at the door of department chairs at least some of the responsibility for foot-dragging that slows and sometimes stalls change initiatives. The summary, and the graphic, started me wondering. (See some earlier blog posts on this topic.)
In our schools we often regard department chairs as "middle managers," and so I wondered how the positive traits identified by Kaiser et al. played out in my anecdotal experience; they didn't, quite. So I sent Robert Kaiser an email asking just how he and the authors of the study would define middle management, in schools and in business.
I was pleased when Kaiser responded not just with a quick answer--middle managers are "responsible for managing other managers...most functional heads are considered middle managers, too"--but also with a copy of the full study, which has kept me busy, and I have to say enthralled, for a day now.
By the definitions Kaiser et al. have drawn from the literature and set forth in the full study, "middle managers" in independent schools are NOT department chairs but rather virtually all members of what schools regard as their administrative teams or cabinets. The only real "executive" in most schools is the head of school, responsible to the board and the key player in enunciating and setting in motion implementation efforts for strategic plans. While a few schools may have associate heads or other "senior administrators" who function at an executive level, in most smaller schools even assistant heads are essentially middle managers, charged with oversight of either important school functions (finance and operations, admissions, development) or the leadership of academic divisions.
Department heads, in this schema, are "supervisors," not middle managers. Interestingly, the behavioral qualities associated with effectiveness at this level are "Learning Agility" and "Work-Life Balance." Predictably, "Abrasiveness" is highly correlated with non-effectiveness, but so is--get this--"Supportive Leadership." By the terms of "Testing the Leadership Pipeline," effective supervisors--department heads, mostly--are characterized by quickness of apprehension and the ability to compartmentalize work and personal life. Somewhat strangely, "Directive Leadership," "Empowering Leadership," and "Lack of Follow-Through" are neutral factors.
Schools are human places, where we put huge emphasis on such qualities as supportiveness and "empowering" others--these are the things that we like to think we are best at. And yet, for the hundreds of supervisors in both for-profit and non-profit organizations studied by Kaiser and his team, these things don't much matter at what in schools is the analogous level, except insofar as supportiveness actually interferes with effectiveness. One imagines that many department heads, newly risen from the faculty ranks, might easily err on the side of being supportive of department members when a more matter-of-fact, nearly directive style is called for.
Empowering Leadership and (whew!) Abrasiveness are the negative factors for effective middle managers, but Supportive Leadership joins Directive Leadership and Learning Agility as positive factors; Lack of Follow-Through and Work-Life Balance are neutral. This made a whole lot of sense to me as I shifted my definition of middle manager upward to the administrators I have known and the work we are asked to do in schools. But being a directive leader can be a tough transition for a teacher-leader in whose world the gentle, supportive cajole is often the most effective tactic.
At the executive, or head of school level, Empowering Leadership--effective delegation--becomes a key skill, but Learning Agility is paramount, more important than for middle managers or supervisors. Directive Leadership (one thinks perhaps of micromanagement), Work-Life Balance, and (finally!) Lack of Follow-Through are strong negatives. Supportive Leadership and Abrasiveness are neutrals.
Much of the point of "Testing the Leadership Pipeline" is about the challenges leaders face when making transitions from level to level, and the simple schematic makes it easy to see what these might be.
For schools, in particular, the paper speaks to the importance of making careful choices when hiring or promoting, at every level. While the literature cited suggests a failure rate of about half of executive appointments, the failure levels at middle managerial and supervisory levels are not insignificant. How schools prepare staff for upward transitions is critical not just to the success of the individual but, of course, to the overall success of the institution.
I would strongly urge anyone involved with hiring and orienting department heads, school administrators, and heads to check out the summary and to seek out the finished paper when it is published. In it lies considerable wisdom, backed by extensive research, and a tremendous resource for independent school management as a whole. The premises and points could drive a whole new approach to recruiting and training school leaders.
I want to underscore that the point of the paper is not just about filtering or screening people, rejecting some and advancing others based only on personality traits. The big idea is that people can be helped to grow in known and necessary ways in order to be successful.
Continue...
Friday, November 6, 2009
THE INTENTIONAL TEACHER--book available at last!
(I apologize to readers of the New Progressive blog for the more-or-less duplicate postings.)
Shameless self-promotion, but I guess that's okay here:
The Intentional Teacher: Forging a Great Career in the Independent School Classroom is at last available. Although the book can be ordered by phone directly from the publisher, Avocus Publishing (800-345-6665; their website is undergoing renovation), the best way to purchase at this point is from Amazon.
The book is intended for aspiring and working teachers as well as for administrators, mentors, and others who hire and support teachers in their schools; I suspect that the latter may be the larger market. There are chapters on
* what it takes to be a teacher
* finding a job
* getting to know students
* classroom management
* planning
* setting standards
* feedback
* working with families
* diversity and equity
* advising and supervising outside the classroom
* coaching
* child and adolescent development
* curriculum and pedagogy
* professional behavior
* the teacher's role in the school
* career paths
There is a resource section for each chapter and a few useful templates--unit design, project planning, daily planning--that should be useful.
The educational philosophy underlying the book is New Progressive in every way; it's about building relationships with students and creating learning experiences in the Understanding by Design/Project Zero mode that are purposeful, engaging, exciting, and challenging. The independent school focus is really about making the most of one's personal and professional capacities in an environment that often calls upon teachers to play many roles in students' lives.
The sticker price is $26.95. Avocus has produced a number of books on independent school issues, and I have to say they have put this one together very nicely.
Continue...
Shameless self-promotion, but I guess that's okay here:
The Intentional Teacher: Forging a Great Career in the Independent School Classroom is at last available. Although the book can be ordered by phone directly from the publisher, Avocus Publishing (800-345-6665; their website is undergoing renovation), the best way to purchase at this point is from Amazon.
The book is intended for aspiring and working teachers as well as for administrators, mentors, and others who hire and support teachers in their schools; I suspect that the latter may be the larger market. There are chapters on
* what it takes to be a teacher
* finding a job
* getting to know students
* classroom management
* planning
* setting standards
* feedback
* working with families
* diversity and equity
* advising and supervising outside the classroom
* coaching
* child and adolescent development
* curriculum and pedagogy
* professional behavior
* the teacher's role in the school
* career paths
There is a resource section for each chapter and a few useful templates--unit design, project planning, daily planning--that should be useful.
The educational philosophy underlying the book is New Progressive in every way; it's about building relationships with students and creating learning experiences in the Understanding by Design/Project Zero mode that are purposeful, engaging, exciting, and challenging. The independent school focus is really about making the most of one's personal and professional capacities in an environment that often calls upon teachers to play many roles in students' lives.
The sticker price is $26.95. Avocus has produced a number of books on independent school issues, and I have to say they have put this one together very nicely.
Continue...
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Change--a new management philosophy?
Like Charlie Brown's sister Sally in the musical, I am developing a new philosophy about change issues. Having recently done yet another survey of the field involving schools that have embarked on "21st-century learning" initiatives, I wonder whether it it might be time for schools to revise some of their strategies for program change.
I'm not talking about slowing down, or scrapping the work. I'm thinking more about the schools where "initiatives," "innovative thinking," "roll-outs," and other language borrowed from the high-tech, financial services, and NGO sectors has taken hold to the point that faculty, students, and families feel as they are being swept along from one of those ultracool, ultrahip Apple product introduction extravaganzas to the next. There has been something of a trend, driven by the steady drumbeat of gurus and strategic planning consultants, toward treating schools as if they are living manifestations of Guy Kawasaki's engaging and seductive blog posts or possibly the bridge of the latest Starship Enterprise as Admiral Kirk and his crew ooh and ah over the capabilities of this latest wonder.
And schools should be those places--where intellectual excitement, incisive analysis, creativity, and extravagantly innovative thinking are taking place, are nourished, and are rewarded. But I'm beginning to think that it might be better--and make those new initiatives take root and bear fruit more quickly--if leaders did a little less ballyhoo-ing and paid a little more attention to connecting schools' traditional values and ways to the "new work" that we have to be all about doing. In other words, don't slow down, but lay off the wild and woolly language; not everyone in the school has read Clayton Christensen or even Daniel Pink. Don't guilt trip or try so hard to out-cool those who aren't as evolved as you are.
In my new thinking about change, whether it involves curriculum and assessment, technology (which is really a set of tools that can be useful in curriculum and assessment), or professional culture in general, it's not about roll-outs or coming up with groovy language to describe the work that schools need to be doing. When the academic administrators show up waving the latest manifesto of the brave new world around, not a few people are going to retreat. It's not that they aren't excited about going forward and doing the right thing, but often enough there is an unintended--and I stress unintended--implication that current ways are obsolete, gone the way of the dodo, stupid, even. We shouldn't be surprised that practitioners of current ways get noodgy at the thought that they are obsolete, dodo-ish, stupid, even.
Instead, schools might be looking for ways to build in the new work in ways that feel at least more organic than roll-outs and to talk about this work in ways that, while it acknowledges Ted Talk smartness, is grounded in the values and the ways in which the school has been steeped all along.
In other words, don't keep talking about the work and how it represents a departure from business as usual. Don't keep throwing out those quotes about how the way school is currently done is criminal, 19th-century, and shortsighted--stupid, even.
Just do the work.
How? The same way we've been launching initiatives and rolling out new programs forever:
1) Assemble an administrative body that shares a vision and is deeply versed in and committed to ways of achieving this vision.
2) Make a plan for bringing the elements of this vision to life in the work and practice of the school. Find some experts, set aside some professional development time, gather the resources that will be needed to make it all work.
3) Build in some accountability structures, and allow no escape or opt-out. You want to create a set of core competencies and grade-level benchmarks? Put the right people in a room, give them time, guidance, sustenance, and above all clear goals--"deliverables," to use the corporate-speak that should only be used sparingly and among friends. Give the people doing the work clear feedback on how their work relates to expectations. Make the work interactive, but make it happen.
You want to have teachers using project-based learning? Devote the next professional day to training people in what this actually is, and how to design worthy projects, and make devising a project-based unit or major activity one of the required goals for this year's evaluation. Give the teachers time and resources--including feedback mechanisms--for doing this work.
Schools have traditionally been places of autonomy for teachers, and they must own the curriculum. But schools that adapt to changing ideas of educational best practice will thrive, and those that stay stuck in one place will not. I believe that schools that push themselves forward through intentional and mandatory institutional work are going to be perceived as more viable and more responsive to 21st-century exigencies than those that allow their teachers to mosey along as an all-volunteer army, some doing exciting, great things and some holding tight to the status quo.
It may be that the best way to engage teachers in participating in this intentional and mandatory work is to make the case for the work in language that echoes the traditional spirit of the school rather than in terms of a launch from Spaceship Earth that must happen because the 21st century (or Daniel Pink) demands it.
Again, don't get me wrong here. The 21st century (and the estimable and right-on Daniel Pink) DO demand that schools find new ways to do things, and fast. But consider eschewing the roll-out or the launch or the references to the Futurist du jour and keep the language and purpose of the work grounded in continuing the great work and program development that have always been hallmarks of the school's commitment to providing an excellent educational experience for its students. Remind faculty and everyone else that the school has always had a responsibility to incorporate new ideas about best practice into its ways; that's how the school has built its fine reputation, and that's how the school aims to keep it. "This is what we do."
This may feel like a little white lie, especially in schools that have been dozing through the curricular, cultural, and technological revolutions of the past three or four decades. But it is never too late to catch up, and dozers actually have the advantage of having made fewer false starts than those that have jumped at every new idea.
Maybe this sounds crazy, or perhaps it's so obvious as to be utterly banal, but for a while, at least, I want to hear less about "21st-century learning" and more about the work that schools are doing help their faculties incorporate the kinds of practices and mores that the 21st century requires, just as they did for the 20th, 19th, 18th, and in a few cases on this continent the 17th centuries.
There really shouldn't be anything so special about this, now, should there?
Continue...
I'm not talking about slowing down, or scrapping the work. I'm thinking more about the schools where "initiatives," "innovative thinking," "roll-outs," and other language borrowed from the high-tech, financial services, and NGO sectors has taken hold to the point that faculty, students, and families feel as they are being swept along from one of those ultracool, ultrahip Apple product introduction extravaganzas to the next. There has been something of a trend, driven by the steady drumbeat of gurus and strategic planning consultants, toward treating schools as if they are living manifestations of Guy Kawasaki's engaging and seductive blog posts or possibly the bridge of the latest Starship Enterprise as Admiral Kirk and his crew ooh and ah over the capabilities of this latest wonder.
And schools should be those places--where intellectual excitement, incisive analysis, creativity, and extravagantly innovative thinking are taking place, are nourished, and are rewarded. But I'm beginning to think that it might be better--and make those new initiatives take root and bear fruit more quickly--if leaders did a little less ballyhoo-ing and paid a little more attention to connecting schools' traditional values and ways to the "new work" that we have to be all about doing. In other words, don't slow down, but lay off the wild and woolly language; not everyone in the school has read Clayton Christensen or even Daniel Pink. Don't guilt trip or try so hard to out-cool those who aren't as evolved as you are.
In my new thinking about change, whether it involves curriculum and assessment, technology (which is really a set of tools that can be useful in curriculum and assessment), or professional culture in general, it's not about roll-outs or coming up with groovy language to describe the work that schools need to be doing. When the academic administrators show up waving the latest manifesto of the brave new world around, not a few people are going to retreat. It's not that they aren't excited about going forward and doing the right thing, but often enough there is an unintended--and I stress unintended--implication that current ways are obsolete, gone the way of the dodo, stupid, even. We shouldn't be surprised that practitioners of current ways get noodgy at the thought that they are obsolete, dodo-ish, stupid, even.
Instead, schools might be looking for ways to build in the new work in ways that feel at least more organic than roll-outs and to talk about this work in ways that, while it acknowledges Ted Talk smartness, is grounded in the values and the ways in which the school has been steeped all along.
In other words, don't keep talking about the work and how it represents a departure from business as usual. Don't keep throwing out those quotes about how the way school is currently done is criminal, 19th-century, and shortsighted--stupid, even.
Just do the work.
How? The same way we've been launching initiatives and rolling out new programs forever:
1) Assemble an administrative body that shares a vision and is deeply versed in and committed to ways of achieving this vision.
2) Make a plan for bringing the elements of this vision to life in the work and practice of the school. Find some experts, set aside some professional development time, gather the resources that will be needed to make it all work.
3) Build in some accountability structures, and allow no escape or opt-out. You want to create a set of core competencies and grade-level benchmarks? Put the right people in a room, give them time, guidance, sustenance, and above all clear goals--"deliverables," to use the corporate-speak that should only be used sparingly and among friends. Give the people doing the work clear feedback on how their work relates to expectations. Make the work interactive, but make it happen.
You want to have teachers using project-based learning? Devote the next professional day to training people in what this actually is, and how to design worthy projects, and make devising a project-based unit or major activity one of the required goals for this year's evaluation. Give the teachers time and resources--including feedback mechanisms--for doing this work.
Schools have traditionally been places of autonomy for teachers, and they must own the curriculum. But schools that adapt to changing ideas of educational best practice will thrive, and those that stay stuck in one place will not. I believe that schools that push themselves forward through intentional and mandatory institutional work are going to be perceived as more viable and more responsive to 21st-century exigencies than those that allow their teachers to mosey along as an all-volunteer army, some doing exciting, great things and some holding tight to the status quo.
It may be that the best way to engage teachers in participating in this intentional and mandatory work is to make the case for the work in language that echoes the traditional spirit of the school rather than in terms of a launch from Spaceship Earth that must happen because the 21st century (or Daniel Pink) demands it.
Again, don't get me wrong here. The 21st century (and the estimable and right-on Daniel Pink) DO demand that schools find new ways to do things, and fast. But consider eschewing the roll-out or the launch or the references to the Futurist du jour and keep the language and purpose of the work grounded in continuing the great work and program development that have always been hallmarks of the school's commitment to providing an excellent educational experience for its students. Remind faculty and everyone else that the school has always had a responsibility to incorporate new ideas about best practice into its ways; that's how the school has built its fine reputation, and that's how the school aims to keep it. "This is what we do."
This may feel like a little white lie, especially in schools that have been dozing through the curricular, cultural, and technological revolutions of the past three or four decades. But it is never too late to catch up, and dozers actually have the advantage of having made fewer false starts than those that have jumped at every new idea.
Maybe this sounds crazy, or perhaps it's so obvious as to be utterly banal, but for a while, at least, I want to hear less about "21st-century learning" and more about the work that schools are doing help their faculties incorporate the kinds of practices and mores that the 21st century requires, just as they did for the 20th, 19th, 18th, and in a few cases on this continent the 17th centuries.
There really shouldn't be anything so special about this, now, should there?
Continue...
Monday, August 24, 2009
A Culture of Mentorship
Well, school's not quite ready to start, but I am, and after a tragically long lay-off from this blog it's time to start thinking about how schools can build faculty competencies and do a better job at that thing we are supposed to do. Our new faculty just completed the new-and-improved 3-day Teaching All Kinds of Minds program to hone their differentiation chops, and this afternoon the big work starts: they meet with their department heads to start working on and reviewing their curriculum and lesson plans for the first month of school, followed by three more days of sessions on school culture and procedures. Last week we also handed them their hardcopies of the Teacher's Guide to Life and Work, 2009-10 edition; they have been able to access this through our new teacher wiki (sorry, access for our folks only, but I'll blog about it later) since July.
We focus on making the orientation program into a real immersion into school culture. The program tomorrow starts with an in-depth, anecdotal school tour where we meet administrators and otherwise see the school from the inside out; we even have a session just on the odd lingo our school uses. (QUICK HINT FOR MAKING THE NEW YEAR A SUCCESS FOR NEW TEACHERS: Start making a little glossary of these terms for your own school, and see how quickly you need to add pages.) By the time it's all over, all the new faculty in both divisions will have met a pretty good range of their colleagues as well as people in administrative functions that bear on their work directly and indirectly, and so when full faculty meetings start next week no one will feel like a stranger.
For the past couple of years we have de-emphasized the artificial "here's your mentor/blind date" thing. Great mentorship programs are built from the ground up and cost serious money when you start easing teaching loads for mentors and new folks and trying to schedule common planning time; I'm all for programs like this, but most schools, particularly in a tough economy, can't afford them. Instead, what we have been aiming for is a "CULTURE OF MENTORSHIP," in which department chairs, divisional and departmental colleagues, class deans, and others in a position to do so understand the needs of each new cohort of teachers and pick up the reins constantly to check in, observe, offer feedback, help, support, and guide the new people into the fabric of the faculty's professional life.
Building a culture of mentorship requires that we be especially explicit and intentional about this. Each group that meets--department chairs, deans--needs to be reminded that "it takes a village to make a teacher successful." It turns out that each previous year's new teacher cohort can be helpful here, too, and we debrief with them pretty regularly throughout their first year. Last year our new teachers took a couple of afternoon retreats with a small group of what we call Lead Teachers--teachers who have piloted program ideas and who have become an important in-house professional development resource for all faculty.
The worry, of course, is that a teacher here or an issue there might slip through the cracks, and we have to keep working on how we do this. But I think that overall the model has some real advantages over the old "blind date" model, which sometimes worked out very well but just as often fizzled after the first couple of weeks of school. I think that all the pre-service work that we do really contributes to success, as no teacher enters our building without a really good grounding not only in the professional and educational culture of the school but also in the critical "who's who" questions: Where do I go for help? What can I expect from (that person or that function)? This matters a great deal.
I still hear stories of schools with half-day orientations for new teachers, or where the half-day program is proudly announced to have become a full day. I don't think that is anywhere near enough time or enough exposure to key people and key roles to truly "orient" a new teacher. I worry that one-on-one mentorship programs added to over-short orientations serve more to isolate new teachers or create a sense of urgent dependency than to give them the confidence and basic knowledge they will need to succeed from Day One.
A culture of mentorship is really another term for a professional learning community, and it would be nice to think that all of our schools would be focused on creating this kind of environment and culture for their faculties. In the meantime, we have to work hard to build in the structures (where we can) and the intention (everywhere) to make coming into a new school as seamless and as success-focused as possible.
Continue...
We focus on making the orientation program into a real immersion into school culture. The program tomorrow starts with an in-depth, anecdotal school tour where we meet administrators and otherwise see the school from the inside out; we even have a session just on the odd lingo our school uses. (QUICK HINT FOR MAKING THE NEW YEAR A SUCCESS FOR NEW TEACHERS: Start making a little glossary of these terms for your own school, and see how quickly you need to add pages.) By the time it's all over, all the new faculty in both divisions will have met a pretty good range of their colleagues as well as people in administrative functions that bear on their work directly and indirectly, and so when full faculty meetings start next week no one will feel like a stranger.
For the past couple of years we have de-emphasized the artificial "here's your mentor/blind date" thing. Great mentorship programs are built from the ground up and cost serious money when you start easing teaching loads for mentors and new folks and trying to schedule common planning time; I'm all for programs like this, but most schools, particularly in a tough economy, can't afford them. Instead, what we have been aiming for is a "CULTURE OF MENTORSHIP," in which department chairs, divisional and departmental colleagues, class deans, and others in a position to do so understand the needs of each new cohort of teachers and pick up the reins constantly to check in, observe, offer feedback, help, support, and guide the new people into the fabric of the faculty's professional life.
Building a culture of mentorship requires that we be especially explicit and intentional about this. Each group that meets--department chairs, deans--needs to be reminded that "it takes a village to make a teacher successful." It turns out that each previous year's new teacher cohort can be helpful here, too, and we debrief with them pretty regularly throughout their first year. Last year our new teachers took a couple of afternoon retreats with a small group of what we call Lead Teachers--teachers who have piloted program ideas and who have become an important in-house professional development resource for all faculty.
The worry, of course, is that a teacher here or an issue there might slip through the cracks, and we have to keep working on how we do this. But I think that overall the model has some real advantages over the old "blind date" model, which sometimes worked out very well but just as often fizzled after the first couple of weeks of school. I think that all the pre-service work that we do really contributes to success, as no teacher enters our building without a really good grounding not only in the professional and educational culture of the school but also in the critical "who's who" questions: Where do I go for help? What can I expect from (that person or that function)? This matters a great deal.
I still hear stories of schools with half-day orientations for new teachers, or where the half-day program is proudly announced to have become a full day. I don't think that is anywhere near enough time or enough exposure to key people and key roles to truly "orient" a new teacher. I worry that one-on-one mentorship programs added to over-short orientations serve more to isolate new teachers or create a sense of urgent dependency than to give them the confidence and basic knowledge they will need to succeed from Day One.
A culture of mentorship is really another term for a professional learning community, and it would be nice to think that all of our schools would be focused on creating this kind of environment and culture for their faculties. In the meantime, we have to work hard to build in the structures (where we can) and the intention (everywhere) to make coming into a new school as seamless and as success-focused as possible.
Continue...
Monday, May 25, 2009
School year's end approaches. No breathers yet, but maybe soon
It's been a crazy month once again, settling our seniors into their college choices, going through the final edits of The Intentional Teacher: Forging a Great Career in the Independent School Classroom--scheduled for publication some time this summer--and continuing work on the NAIS Financial Sustainability series monographs. (Reminder: If you work at an NAIS member school you can create a member profile to obtain access to all of these, plus some other great resources.)
A couple of lingering wait-list questions remain for the students, but on the whole the year was almost surprisingly good. One suspects that ability to pay may have tinted the waters more than in the past--mostly on the positive side for students--but we don't see wholesale disaster or selling out yet. I'm happy for the kids, who all seem pretty happy with their choices and eager to get on with it. Tough to be a senior in the last weeks of the year, but it's less than two weeks now before commencement; they'll make it.
As for The Intentional Teacher, it's my book on how to become, be, and grow as an independent school teacher. It has chapters on everything from getting hired to classroom management to curriculum design, and--as Billy Mays might say--much, much more. There is also a huge resource section. The book is available for pre-order at Avocus Publishing, 4 White Brook Road, Gilsum, NH 03448--the people who have published a number of books on independent school (and early on, particularly boarding school) topics.
I'm up to fourteen of these NAIS advisories right now, having just completed pieces on independent school-public/charter school partnerships, maintaining calm at the board level in hard times, and when and how to close down an independent school.
The last topic is just terribly sad, and it's possible that some readers here will have experienced it first-hand. The message is to make the decision early and to do it right; I'm watching my spouse's old Girl Scout camp (where she and I worked for a number of summers) go through this--we think; the GS council involved seems to be doing everything too late and in secret--and I can vouch for both the pain and the imperative that this task be done with sensitivity and integrity. Two of the Girl Scout camps at which I worked, including one I loved dearly, have been closed, and I still feel the pain. I've watched a couple of schools face the prospect of closure, and that has been even more tragic.
Anyhow, I think these last three advisories should go online at some point in the next week or two.
All this is to say that I've been a poor provider of content--much less wisdom--here, but there is some light at the end of the tunnel come July (still have a couple of school visits, some more writing, and a college trip to Ireland and the UK with our 17-year-old between now and then), and I plan on stocking up on Admirable Faculty ideas then.
In the meantime, may your school year end well and your plans for a new faculty orientation program include handing out copies of The Intentional Teacher (shameless plug) and perhaps something extra special, like a "Welcome to YourSchool" website. More on this soon.
Continue...
A couple of lingering wait-list questions remain for the students, but on the whole the year was almost surprisingly good. One suspects that ability to pay may have tinted the waters more than in the past--mostly on the positive side for students--but we don't see wholesale disaster or selling out yet. I'm happy for the kids, who all seem pretty happy with their choices and eager to get on with it. Tough to be a senior in the last weeks of the year, but it's less than two weeks now before commencement; they'll make it.
As for The Intentional Teacher, it's my book on how to become, be, and grow as an independent school teacher. It has chapters on everything from getting hired to classroom management to curriculum design, and--as Billy Mays might say--much, much more. There is also a huge resource section. The book is available for pre-order at Avocus Publishing, 4 White Brook Road, Gilsum, NH 03448--the people who have published a number of books on independent school (and early on, particularly boarding school) topics.
I'm up to fourteen of these NAIS advisories right now, having just completed pieces on independent school-public/charter school partnerships, maintaining calm at the board level in hard times, and when and how to close down an independent school.
The last topic is just terribly sad, and it's possible that some readers here will have experienced it first-hand. The message is to make the decision early and to do it right; I'm watching my spouse's old Girl Scout camp (where she and I worked for a number of summers) go through this--we think; the GS council involved seems to be doing everything too late and in secret--and I can vouch for both the pain and the imperative that this task be done with sensitivity and integrity. Two of the Girl Scout camps at which I worked, including one I loved dearly, have been closed, and I still feel the pain. I've watched a couple of schools face the prospect of closure, and that has been even more tragic.
Anyhow, I think these last three advisories should go online at some point in the next week or two.
All this is to say that I've been a poor provider of content--much less wisdom--here, but there is some light at the end of the tunnel come July (still have a couple of school visits, some more writing, and a college trip to Ireland and the UK with our 17-year-old between now and then), and I plan on stocking up on Admirable Faculty ideas then.
In the meantime, may your school year end well and your plans for a new faculty orientation program include handing out copies of The Intentional Teacher (shameless plug) and perhaps something extra special, like a "Welcome to YourSchool" website. More on this soon.
Continue...
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