As much as “helicopter” parents, setting tuition in these troubled times, STEM education, sustainability, the “new normal,” and a host of other worthy topics are part of the reality of independent school life---and will return to keep us busy after three consecutive snow days here in the East---they are not what is most on my mind at blogging time. I am thinking about John Lennon, and I miss him.
Oh, I have missed the man, and the music that might have been, since that December night in 1980 when my generation lost much of its youthfulness, along with one of its greatest icons, there on the sidewalk in front of the Dakota apartment. Time the Great Healer as well as the infrequency of hearing his songs served to dull the sorrow over the years, but this December’s series of T.V. specials commemorating both Lennon’s 70th birthday and the 30th anniversary of his death revived the images, the melodies, and the voice-- and with all of that, the sense of loss.
We could have used John Lennon’s voice these days. In an era of political polarity not unlike his world of the late 1960’s and ‘70’s, when viewers hear one version of reality on MSNBC and a diametrically opposed take by switching channels to FOX, Lennon would have again sung out on behalf of many of us, “Just gimme some truth!” (A blog entry I read recently asserted that “Lennon would have loved Wiki-Leaks!” ) At a time when the question of who’s right and who’s wrong too often comes down to who can get in the last word, I’m quite sure that Lennon the Gadfly-Minstrel would be prodding the demagogues of our day and calling out the hypocrites. Above all, on CD’s or in statements to the media, he would still be sharing his hopes for finding what really matters in life—whether it be peace, universal brotherhood, love that’s “all you need” to change a troubled world, or the tranquility of time spent raising an infant son.
John Lennon was no paragon of virtue, and he probably would recoil from the notion of being considered a role model. However, I believe that any of us aging Beatles fans (and others) who happen to be heads of schools can learn much from the search for truth and higher meaning that Lennon carried out through his art and activism.
The first lesson is the importance of acknowledging our flaws and limitations. Lennon was nothing if not introspective and self-aware. He explored the human condition in his songs, and knew from his own heartbreak and anger that he was not immune from it. He discovered in himself a “nowhere man” who was lost; in time he found his way home, literally, and in doing so found ultimate truth. As school heads, we have been chosen to lead on the basis of many good qualities, but let’s face it: we cannot do it all. We have to walk humbly, delegate wisely, reflect routinely, leverage our strengths, and see weaknesses as opportunities for progress towards higher ground.
We should also embrace opportunities to speak out, to be activist and counter-cultural as necessary, keeping our school’s mission statement ever before us as our North Star; therein lies the second lesson from Lennon. When bigotry and cruelty of any form take place in our school communities, we simply cannot allow them to go unaddressed. If it is acceptable in the prevailing culture for parents to allow underage drinking or other illegal drug use in their homes—or even to join in the activity with the kids—it is absolutely right for the school to confront the issue. If teachers, coaches, staff, or other administrators consistently fall short of the school’s expectations, it is our responsibility as heads to hold them accountable and if necessary, to replace them. There are times when we must play the roles of Lennon-esque “irritant” to systems that are no longer serving the mission effectively, and change agent for the school overall. No doubt we will wind up irritating some colleagues at the same time, most likely folks who will be quick to remind us that “we didn’t used to do things that way.”
A final lesson hearkens back to how I began this series of thoughts, and in the weeks since my December reminiscences about John Lennon, it has evolved into a New Year’s resolution of sorts. It is simply this: Commit myself ever more fervently to work that matters, that is genuine and true, and whose effects are lasting and significant. Don’t simply go through the motions, but seek better relationships, a better school, a better society—with passion and a sense of urgency. Our vocation in service of young people is just such a thing of great meaning and timeless truth. Whether or not the responsibilities of headship allow us to remain as connected with students as we once did as full-time teachers, our focus nevertheless has to remain on them and their best interests as we seek to advance every facet of our schools on their behalf. In order to allow kids to attain the highest vision of who they can be while under our care, we must guarantee that the school attains the highest vision of what it can be. As educators and as school leaders, that must be OUR truth.
In a recent meeting of our board’s Strategic Planning Committee, a wise colleague looked over the list of hundreds of action steps associated with close to forty objectives that fall under the seven major areas of the Plan, and asked precisely the right question: “So what???” He was asserting that it is one thing to methodically complete each of those action steps and cross them off the list, but it is something else—of much greater significance---to move the school forward in overarching, transformative ways. The discussion that evening has led us to devise indices of school progress, the metrics that will tell us if the proverbial needle is really moving in areas of meaning and importance… or if we are just going in circles. Perhaps that is part of what Lennon meant when he wrote in “Watching the Wheels,” one of his last songs and an ode to his final years as house-husband and father, away from the limelight: “No longer riding on the merry-go-round…I just had to let it go. I just had to let it go.”
Thank you, John. The lessons of your life are not lost on us. R.I.P.
Richard O'Hara is President of The John Carroll School (Bel Air, Maryland; grades 9-12). You can send him email at [email protected].
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