Jay-Z
I‘ve just started reading a couple of books quasi-simultaneously: Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire and The Speed of Trust by Stephen M. R. Covey. While both seem a little incongruous, both served points about leadership we often lose in the midst of ego-lifting and pontificating.
The trust of the people in the leaders reflects the confidence of the leaders in the people.
- Paulo Freire
and
The difference between a high- and low-trust relationship is palpable! Take communication. In a high-trust relationship, you can say the wrong thing, and people will still get your meaning. In a low-trust relationship, you can be very measured, even precise, and they’ll still misinterpret you.
- Stephen M. R. Covey
And in an instant, it came to me: I’ve been forgetting what real leadership looks like, and have been nervous about my upcoming opportunity for all the wrong reasons. Even with the leadership training I’ve had since I was in middle school, I forgot those principles because a) not everyone around me has the same ideas about leadership around me and b) I almost let the idea of being a leader in the midst of a staff much more venerable than I get in the way.
Then, something clicked.
I’m not sure whether it was the Jamaican sun toasting my shins or my switch to Raisin Bran in the morning, but I decided on a few tenets for myself:
1) I’m going to be courageous about everything and anything I do with my work at school.
2) I’m going to remain as positive and affable as possible in my work.
3) I’m going to communicate in a transparent and efficient fashion, letting those who have expertise share it and letting everyone in the conversation.
I don’t have these problems on a regular level, but it’s been said many times that I need to either enhance or enact on these qualities more often. My writing at this point in my life is stronger than my speaking (there were a couple of points in my life where the opposite was true), and the more I see on my plate, the more I realize how full and groggy I’m going to be after having my fill. Nonetheless, if I believe strongly enough in the mission of helping children excel in the school, then I need to do the best job possible in the role I’m filling.
And if everyone considers this as my true and only motive, then the aforementioned gossip, hate, and mischief will dissipate. After all, I’m as confident that they believe in this mission as much as I do. That’s important.
Mr. V, who’s on a mission …
Rugrats, with Tommy taking the lead
A few things come to mind when I’m asked about school leadership. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention some of the school schemas I’ve already been a part of and I’ve witnessed in other schools. In all instances, the critical component wasn’t how much money the above department had allocated to the school’s funds (though that’s a part), it wasn’t how many people there were in the administrative party or how big the staff was as a whole. It wasn’t how aesthetically pleasing the school was, or whether the school grade was an A or an F, or how many “visitors” crawled the hallways of the establishment.
It isn’t how much some higher authority says your school is good just so they can publicize how well your school’s doing for their own benefit or so they can move a charter school right on the bottom floor without neither your principal or the parents of that school actually knowing. It’s not even about what the “data” shows. A part of me also wants to say, regardless of what people have observed about my current place of employ, that the efficacy of teacher professionalism doesn’t rank the highest in importance, even when that goes a long way in making sure that ships continue to sail with 3-4 different captains.
It’s about how the kids feel when they come to the school. Are they learning? Do they feel welcome, safe, and energetic about going to school? Too many of us throw out the words “student-centered” and “student-focused” but don’t actually implement that. I’m partially to blame for that as well. While I think students need discipline and structure, they also need buy-in and a voice in the system. The effective schools that I’ve heard of and seen at least feel like they have a vested interest in attending AND participating in everything from the minute they come in the school to the minute they step out the school, and extra kudos to those who leave after that last bell ring.
And a big part of me has also tried to wrap my head around the idea of power structures and how they affect our students. At the end of the day, whether principal, teacher, janitor, or paraprofessional, we have to move in unison for a vision that directly tells students, “We’re thinking about you.” Everything else trickles down the ladder, not up it …
Jose, who has to give Scott McLeod his props for starting the Leadership Day Movement, even if I’m a little late …
Kirk and Spock
Sometime after I saw the movie Star Trek, my girlfriend and I sat in a diner and chit-chatted about education as usual, when the issue of “getting things done” came up. Of course, there’s now a million GTD and DIY-themed sites out there, helping you get from point A to point B for anything, thus making anyone into a virtual Angus McGyver. But this conversation? A little different.
Often, the problem stems from the idea of what people can’t do. You’ll have a row of instructional leaders from all the departments suggest one thing and get about a million rebuttals, most of them just a front to protect the speaker of said rebuttal from any further responsibility. “How will we raise test scores?” the principal will say, and the leaders will, one at a time, come up with something and counter-argue themselves before someone else gets to. Here, it’s on the principal to be like, “Everyone, just listen. No arguments against and for. Just throw out suggestions.”
In the outside world, we see that all the time. When a group of people want to make a movement in one way, there’s always a set of negators waiting on the fringe. While a little dissention is necessary to keep people balanced, we also need to see that fringe as a group of people who can easily turn virulent, and thus incapable of moving that group forward into their one vision. (That whole vision thing is important, too).
My girlfriend’s dealing with a similar situation (or maybe a little more caustic). And she just pops out with,
“My question isn’t why we can’t get this done. It’s ‘How can we get this done?’”
This moment reminded me instantly of some of the philosophical struggles I’ve dealt with, and that coincidentally, Aracelis Girmay posed a day later at the Acentos Poetry Workshop. Let’s ask that second question first, under the assumption that the first question’s been answered. Regardless of how you interpreted the first (implicit and not directly stated) question, the second question will prompt a much different response, almost as if you’re forced to respond in the affirmative.
We often look at certain people and wonder why that person, even if that person is standing right in the mirror, and pontificate on all the challenges that person’s going to face and whether they’ll be able to handle it. But people who are ready will always elicit the following: “Just watch. Don’t ask why I did. Rather, take notes as to how I did.”
Jose, who wants to follow this idea up more tomorrow …
Luz loved writing about education so much, she decided to give us another nugget of wisdom. Once again, Luz …
The transition began four years when I saw the chaos that was around me in the school I had been working in for six years. Even though it wasn’t always the perfect setting, there was a sense of solidarity and commitment from my colleagues. I had the privilege of having many mentors in said building who took me under their wing and helped to mold me. From them, I learned that as a teacher I had to make sure that my students were my first priority and not the latest mandates imposed upon us by a continuous changing at the district, region, NYCDOE, and state level.
Unfortunately, due to the latter, I had the privilege of meeting many administrators who added a title to their name and which carried no weight because they possessed no said qualifications of leadership. Positions had been assigned due to political connections either at the district or city level. Others had graduated from the District University of Leadership and had earned the 18 credits on paper which were needed to obtain state certification to be a building leader. Last but not least, we also had administrators who graduated from an educational leadership program, a pilot program. Yet, we still had administrators in said building whom had earned their positions by putting in the time, working hard, and their commitment to the kids, and even to themselves.
The school was undergoing a tremendous change with all the requirements we had to meet in order to remove our names from “THAT” list, the new state guidelines, and an unstable leadership. In spite of all this, the majority of the teachers worked together and maintained a semblance of stability for our students. Even though we knew things were very questionable, we also knew we had a job to do. At times, teacher morale was low therefore some of us would rally the troops and provide that moral support in these desperate times. Especially because some veteran teachers that had been teaching over fifteen years suddenly found themselves being observed, written up, threatened with a letter in their files, and felt a certain disrespect by the new administration – those whom had been in the classroom for a minute or two and had not earned their accreditation with the staff.
This was an ongoing battle both at the administrative level and the staff. The established administrators had earned their respect from many of us since not only had they put their time in but had also been teachers themselves. We found ourselves sitting in meetings in which the new administrators did not know about English language learners yet insisted directing the ELA, ESL, and bilingual teachers as to how to do their job. Conversations ranged from what color should the words for our word walls be, the reading assessments kits, weekly grade level meetings, and professional development after school. We heard from the new administrators how one has to create incentives and make them understand the relevance of what they learn.
An example that was shared with us was about a student who had difficulty reading but his incentive was not only the sports car his dad would buy him, but the business he would one day inherit. My colleagues and I sat there in silence trying to make the connection between our students whose reality at the time was the following: 1st and/or 2nd generation American-Latinos, immigrants to this country like their parents, lived in an economically diverse neighborhood, and who were below their respective reading grade level. Did this administrator not realize who our students were? Yet, this same administrator went after teachers whom were veterans and had more combined years of teaching than said person was alive. Another strategic device was for administrators to come into our classrooms with a checklist which consisted of the following: word walls, students’ work, labeled libraries, labeled notebook bins, bulletin boards up-to-date, information posted, and of course to see if we were teaching. It became a constant interruption during instruction that even my students would roll their eyes and have an attitude since we had “Big Brother” (or “Big Sister”) was watching us.
Even though I comprehend and acknowledge that the level of bureaucracy can often interfere with leadership, I do not justify incompetence as being a core requirement like I had personally witnessed in said environment. In order to lead, one does not have to micromanage teachers nor disrespect them and attempt to threaten them by putting a letter in their file because one is demanding respect when it has not been earned. Instead, have conversations with staff members and listen and address their concerns, especially when there is hesitation to try the new “miracle” curriculum.
I am not saying that teachers do not have to sometimes refresh their techniques and learn new approaches but there is finesse as to how this is done. It is easy to target those teachers whom won’t fight back unlike those teachers, whom are known not to do their job for various reasons, yet are still working and earning a paycheck because creating a paper trail is an on-going process. If these teachers are detrimental to the students, then make sure that there is a follow through because mediocrity is not acceptable. There is no need to walk around with a checklist to see if your building is in order since as a leader your vision of what the building and classroom should look like is transparent to everyone; but most importantly, the stakeholders of your school, are also aligned to this vision. It is not an easy task to undertake for those who have decided to embark on the path of educational leadership, yet is very necessary in order to transform our schools, inspire our students, and motivate our teachers.
Luz, who’d love to hear your enlightened opinions about all of this …
Get your New York Yankees wallpaper here and here courtesy of yours truly. You’re welcome.
I’m not losing any fat, but I’m definitely gaining muscle. Thus, my weight is still the same, but I feel different.
It’s worth noting that the one group my blog is popular with is … teachers. And teachers of all colors. With people who I’m typically associated with at first sight, not so much. And that goes for the web and in real life.
With that said, if you’d like to nominate me for the Black Weblog Awards, feel free. Yes, it’s open to anyone.
I think it’s about time someone actually wrote something about forcing the change of the guard as far as community leadership is concerned. For example, Jesse, Bill, and Al have been the stalwarts of the old guard for decades now for decades. We need a change, and people don’t feel like they’re doing us right. And sometimes, I think the same thing about the blogosphere too.
The #1 quality I bring to the classroom is passion. Whether I’m animated or settled, it’s my drive and passion that keep me getting up every day and into that classroom to teach math. True indeed. Thanks for asking, Tracy. I’ll write more about this soon, but that’s my immediate answer.
I miss her. I really do. Hope she’s doing well.
Met up with 2 friends this week. Definitely exciting stuff to come from them.
One of my big non-negotiables is insulting women for being women. Basically, we can’t talk about educating or re-educating anyone if you speak of women in sexist terms. For example, in the Black in America special by CNN, the big trend that came up was the trend of successful Black men dating White women. I personally have no issue with interracial relationships; date who you please or who pleases you. Yet, some Black women who simply state that they want a Black man often get admonished (!) for it, as if 1) they’re undeserving of a successful Black man and 2) they complain so much that it’s no wonder why those men would never go out with them. “Well maybe you should stop complaining, and maybe you should be more like ____ or ____.” It’s bull, people. It’s implicitly bitter and misogynist, and anyone making those arguments ought to take a hard look at themselves in the mirror. (That was just an example, because it’s happening a lot in other arenas, too.)
Women have a right to preference just like men do. It’s not the difference between beggars and choosers. It’s about love. There’s a difference between limiting one’s options and having a preference for someone. Love. Love. Love.
jose, who believes in holding up a mirror to yourself, and not just for admiration …
p.s. – If you’re referring to a group of people that identify themselves as Latino, the plural form is Latinos not Latino’s. Once you use the latter, you instantly lose 1/2 of your credibility. The other 1/2 is just in case you make an honest effort to correct that. I know some of these people only care about Latinos as a voting bloc and not as a people, but please …
You say you want a revolution, well you know we all want to change the world.
My annoyance right now stems from the idea of leadership, and how my definition of it has changes vastly everyday. On the one end, I wanted to believe I was a leader. I do my part as a teacher and motivator for my kids, and even the students who’ve graduated and tell me how much their lives have changed as a result of my teaching. That’s all well and good.
Yet, I’m at a struggle with the term leadership because unfortunately, we often have people in leadership positions who are more concerned with how they look than the actual cause, and that can only spell disaster for our movement. Everyone can instantly point to the very top like Dubya and Co., whose company seems to get smaller by the semester. It’s bad enough his party often complains about the lower class being lazy; their leader takes vacations like they’re going out of style.
I even throw shade at people like Al Sharpton for his backing of Bill O’Reilly of all people. I’m having a hard time with the idea that he’s so ingrained in the history of the African Diaspora that it’s like the man can diss everyone but Malcolm and Martin and still be a point of discussion.
After all, the younger version of himself, along with Jesse Jackson, Nikki, Lennon, Gil-Scott, Cesar, Che, and the like all call us back to a time when people really looked at themselves and decided to make a conscious decision to sacrifice themselves for the sake of others. My girl once said we should be ashamed at the complacency we’ve reached in our society. Yet, that self-sacrifice isn’t always a prosperous journey: some of these very leaders came to the point where they gave in to their own vices, thinking they had lost their souls after so many losses.
So in some ways, I guess it’s only right that we have a form of revolutionary talk that’s self-aggrandizing. It’s easy if you don’t have to do much to look revolutionary, speak it, dress it, or play the part, so long as you don’t get hurt or it doesn’t interfere with your business, whether that business is women or profit. If you could write a poem about how you are the conduit to the aforementioned greats, get a bunch of points from random people not based on quality but performance, and become popular all over America for it, wouldn’t you? If you could write a blog about how evil Republicans are, win a bunch of web awards, and continuously point at how revolutionary you are, couldn’t you? If you could sit down and spit blurbs with a media head so you’re made into the saving face of a major incident, would you take that chance?
This isn’t to say that anyone with communication skills isn’t tempted to try it. I’ll admit to having forgotten my purpose for writing sometimes, but that’s only led to trouble. In my former weblog community, that’s exactly what happened. Many of us were a little more concerned about comments and responses than thorough feedback and honest writing. Not to say that weblogs should be these awesome pieces of literature, but I do think they need to be fresh and real.
That died though, and now no one’s writing as much for it anymore. And a lot of the writers who I considered thorough either left or just stopped blogging. The movement I thought was building up there slowly drifted, because there was more concern about rank and pomp than real dialogue. So in this new age of communication, I wonder how much more concerned we are with the actual movement we’re trying to create instead of rankings, listings, and widgets, for the only purpose that serves is really ephemeral. A real revolution will come from the peoples’ hearts and minds.
Until then, peace is what I’m after more than anything. The road to the revolution is paved with good intentions, too, but too many people are quick to dishonor the bodies that went with it.
… because you know it’s gonna be, alright …
jose, who’s honestly disenchanted with a lot, but I keep on keeping on …
p.s. – Check my “about me” page. If you know me personally, it might even be about you.
by Jose on March 10, 2007 · 2 comments
in Uncategorized
This morning, after waking up from a much-needed hangover-induced nap, I decided to make my rounds on the Internets. I got to AM’s blog and came upon one post in particular that I loved. It was Taylor Mali’s performance of “What Teachers Make”, a poem about the difference between a corporate 9-5 job and working in the K-12 educational system.
Naturally, I loved the subject matter and the poem itself, because every good teacher knows how much of their person they extend to these kids; even more so, they go above and beyond their pay to provide something for them, whether it’s inspiration, supplies, or a much needed wake-up call.
I bring this up because yesterday, I went to a leadership meeting as a guest speaker at my school. Apparently, when asked who the kids thought was a leader, but that wasn’t famous, a good portion of them chose me. Naturally, I’m humbled by the selection; this is not to say I didn’t expect that I made some effect on the kids, but honestly, I’m really into my job.
The counselor who organizes the meetings handed me questions that the kids asked me, and I laughed, mainly because they were so … boring. They weren’t used to asking real questions that mattered; that comes with age / maturity. So I wrote some notes down before the meeting that I thought would be critical in the kids’ understanding of what it takes to be a leader, and how I arrived where I am now.
I told them the story of the young, Black/Latino male making his way through the hood but turning right around and making a difference in another hood. I told them the struggles I went through to get there, and how, through places like the Nativity Mission School, I became the man I am today. I told them how the ideas of service and generosity always make the best leaders. The first question that came from these kids?
“Mr. Vilson, what’s your age?”
I stood befuddled. Then I remembered that these kids couldn’t see past the more shallow topics, which only meant one thing; I had to stop being polite and start getting gangsta. As soon as I made it plainly aware that I wouldn’t answer the more personal questions, the 8th graders stepped up and asked serious questions that I hoped I could expound on.
That’s when I realized what it meant to be a real teacher. We discussed everything from basketball, music, the n-word, Dominican and Haitian relations, the Iraq war, my poetry, and who they thought I could most relate to as a student in the school. It was probably one of my happiest and proudest moments as a teacher; giving these kids the wisdom I wished to impart on them when they were in my classroom. And what’s more, it was the first time in a few days I had a room full of kids in complete silence. Ahhh …
What’s more, though, it helped me realize why I put up with everything I do, day in and day out. I care a lot about the kids and how well they do despite themselves and their environments. Everyday is a chance to start something new and break a trend that’s held Blacks and Latinos back. Here’s hoping I continue to remember moments like these when times get rough …
jose, signing off
