Introit

Endings - Happy and Sad

Happy Endings: another NAIS Annual Conference, a chance to meet new people -- including a number of folks in the Aspiring Heads fellowship, an opportunity to reconnect with familiar faces and ongoing acquaintances, a learning opportunity in many sessions, a chance to see a unique community on the harbor across the bridge from Washington, D.C. Also happy: looking forward to the next NAIS Annual Conference I can attend, even if it's not next year's in Seattle. Though the quality of the overall conference can vary from year to year, I find the connections, reconnections, and session attendance very stimulative and often generative. It rejuvenates me, serving as a remind of why I love independent education.

Sad Endings: speaking with two people from two very different schools, both of which are closing at the end of this school year. At one, the entire administration has been let go already, as the school doesn't have the funds to pay them for the remainder of the year. What is more, the bondholders (the school had debt, which is no surprise to readers of my posts on debt issues) want the property sooner rather than later, so the school has had to accelerate its academic calendar in order to graduate the students before the bondholders take over the property. At the other, the decision to close was announced in recent weeks, and they are in closing mode, which will take the next six months or so. It is difficult to imagine the emotional drain on a leader who, with the board, must shut down operations, place students in other schools, and assist faculty and staff with job searches, etc. The silver lining, perhaps, is that the pain resulting from closure has an end-point in sight; at other schools that are struggling to stay afloat -- usually due in part or exclusively due to debt issues, the pain will continue in the form of more rounds of downsizing, reduction or elimination of benefits, salary reductions, and the like. Death by a thousand cuts; a kind of torture that prolongs the feelings of wounded-ness rather than provide for well-being and sobriety.

Paradigm for Professional Development

In thinking about professional development lately, and dovetailing with Mark Crotty's thoughtful post yesterday, I'd like to offer the following visual paradigm for professional development. Its construction is meant to facilitate application in most independent schools.

I would very much welcome feedback from readers, including suggestions for emendations, about its potential as a useful paradigm.

  Download Professional Development Paradigm

 

 

 

 

 

Successful Professional Development

Successful PD is a comprehensive, scheduled, and sustainable program.

For all the talk about sustainability in independent school circles, it makes sense that a professional development program with "meat on the bones" would have to be sustainable -- in other words, it needs to occur 1) frequently and 2) over a sustained period of time so that theory and praxis may come together in the classroom.

So, it should be sustained. It should also be collaborative, which is easily accomplished, given the proliferation of Web 2.0 tools nowadays. If your idea of PD is to sit the entire faculty in an auditorium and speak at them for 2 hours, then expect them to go out an apply the idea(s) covered that day, I'm willing to bet that you are mostly disappointed with the results. We know that our students don't learn best in that format, so why do we force faculty to do it? PD needs to be facilitated; that is best done in smaller, intimate settings so that applications of PD foci can be dealt with in discipline-specific or program-specific ways. Teachers needs hands-on PD activities as much as they need the theoretical aspect. Why would we choose to avoid collaboration as a means of application of PD?

Sustained. Collaborative. How about intensive? Shouldn't it be intense? By intensive, I mean that it ought to have deep purpose that is best reached/realized by faculty really getting into the meat of what the PD is about. That can't be accomplished in a two-hour sermon in an auditorium. There needs to be organization (overall) and work toward a common objective: what would we like to see with the PD? Surely this cannot be accomplished in one single day; rather, the PD exercise needs to be spread out over time, perhaps over four to six weeks, with follow-up.

Sustained. Collaborative. Intensive. Why not laden with opportunity? Shouldn't there be ample opportunity for faculty members to practice what they've acquired during PD? If we only offer a day of PD here and there, and offer it the way we've been offering it, how can faculty members find opportunity to put theory into practice?

To be successful, PD needs to be meaningful. Thinking of Tom Peters' search for excellence, it really is about getting back to basics. PD needs meaning. Let's provide it.

 

Stacked Platforms

Steven Johnson, in his recent publication, Where Good Ideas Come From: The Natural History of Innovation, posits that "the most generative platforms come in stacks" (189). He goes on to provide examples, most notably the layered platform of the Web, yet also cultures and the creative arts. His point is that good ideas are built upon, layer by layer, and that, eventually, the "something" that transcends yet binds these layers ends up creating innovation and power, simultaneously. Of course, the catch is that there is some sort of organizing principle that makes it all work, and that the organizing principle itself may end up being redesigned by those using it. Very thought-provoking.

One parallel for schools is the platform stack that we call the faculty. Consider all the layers of faculty in your school; these layers are not simple, by any stretch of the imagination. What is the level of functionality of the faculty? In other words, can the faculty function as a whole and as separate parts, and at different times and for different reasons? Surely it happens already, but what is that organizing principle that makes it work? Is there an absence of such an organizing principle? Are faculty members more wedded to a division, or to the school as a whole? Where do they find inspiration and satisfaction of the soul? Are they generative, as a group? Where do they find time to be generative, and who organizes that?

Questions for your school: does your faculty "platform stack" work well? What organizing principle transcends the stack itself? Do traditional models of faculty organization provide the kind of applications and (sometimes) innovations in curriculum and instruction that you'd like to see (think: department, division, discipline, grade level)? Those units may be functional and utilitarian, but do they provide full faculty alignment with school mission, or is it really a hit-or-miss approach?

And here's one last thought: do those units provide or promote leadership within the faculty? If not, where is leadership promoted? From where / from whom?

Is your faculty "generative"?

Millenials in Independent Schools

One of the really positive things that Millenials bring to the table in independent schools is their flexibility and their natural proclivity to be open to innovation. They also prefer frequent communication and interaction with everyone in the workplace; this style, of course, can clash with other generations who do not hold those same views. Yet it has other (potential) repercussions as well.

This difference in styles may contribute to an issue that the Pew Research Center has highlighted: that Millenials are less likely to view their current jobs as long-term commitments. These and other complex data regarding the Millenials and their approach to work, as outlined in the Pew study, suggest strongly that independent schools need to consider how to manage them and how to help them grow, both being retention strategies.

The growth aspect in particular is extremely significant, as Millenials will be doing the heavy lifting in independent schools in about ten years (if not sooner, for some of them, given the wide range of ages involved). How we help them to grow into school leaders is of profound importance. We need to figure out how to provide them with projects that are meaningful to them, but which also help the school: it has to be a partnership of the individual and the community. Such projects need to provide Millenials with the opportunity to earn their stripes through good, challenging work, and not merely reward them with the appearance of merit. There has to be genuine substance there.

 

Pernicious Narcissism and the Self-Esteem Question

Jeff Pfeffer, professor of organizational behavior at Stanford, had a great article in today's Financial Times, "The Narcissistic World of the MBA Student" (November 8, 2010). Much of what Pfeffer had to say is relevant to success and leadership in education, whether on the part of the students (the focus of Pfeffer's article) or the adults.

When Pfeffer looks at MBA students who are entering the workforce, he is rather concerned with what he sees:

1. a remarkable sense of entitlement
2. a reluctance to face honest feedback and the consequences of one's own actions
3. an unwillingness to engage in the competition that characterizes organizational life

He points to a study that shows a "dramatic increase" in narcissistic personality traits among college students, between 1982 and 2009. The markers are "an inability to take the perspective of others, a dependence on others for affirmation, and valuing one's self regardless of real achievements while seeking constant praise."

What Pfeffer is getting at, it seems to me, is the self-esteem question at the K-12 level. How much do we praise students for? Is it endless? Is there a point after which it becomes harmful to the well-being of the student? In other words, does a relentless pursuit of increasing self-esteem in K-12 students lead--in some way--to relentless narcissism at a later date?

The self-esteem question is one of those things that we have discussed for many years in independent schools. How much is just right, when is it too much, when is it not enough? What are the consequences of not enough?

Pfeffer proposes some changes to business schools in order to better prepare graduates for entry into the real world of work. Some suggestions are things that we do already in K-12 independent schools, such as teaching students that there are consequences for their actions when it comes to academic rules of conduct (think: cheating and the role of an honor code). One suggestion that compels, however, is that "students need to learn the principles of power", including teaching them how to build and maintain social networks: not merely the online social networks, but in-person networks that surround them daily.

Of course, the principles of power include things that we're doing well in our schools: giving students the ability to see the world through another's point of view (helps to garner influence), teaching them how to balance ambition, drive, and persistence (skills that will help them in task groups with hierarchy), and helping students to be resilient when it comes to setbacks, which we all experience.

Poor Collaboration

Did you know that 78% of chief financial officers (recent poll, 2010) do not feel that their organizations are effective at fostering collaboration? That's a remarkable figure.  I would wager that independent schools are a bit better than that, but not by much. We talk with great frequency about collaboration, but rare are the times when we actually move in that direction. We end up blaming the schedule...and the reasons spiral downward from there.

What is more, only 21% of organizations have made investments in programs or technologies that are collaborative, or that promote collaboration. In other words, 8 of 10 organizations aren't doing anything to promote a collaborative culture.

Given what organizational design experts and researchers in management science point out regarding how collaboration results in innovation, how might we move the "collaboration agenda" forward? How can we move from "smart talk" to "action"? How do we execute such a plan?

I would submit that some form of incentive should play a role, but it shouldn't be a monetary one, necessarily or exclusively. Dan Pink does a great job of highlighting how monetary incentives are not the true driver of individuals; meaningful, purposeful work ("intrinsic motivation") is the real driver.

Might independent schools reconsider leadership development or professional development by creating collaborative spaces (e.g., social networking, project-based wikis, or even a piece of--gasp!--scheduled time) that encourage cross-divisional teamwork on common issues. In a sense, this approach would re-invent task forces and subcommittees, creating instead project-based teams. Heads of school would find out quickly who was "driven" (a la Dan Pink) and who wasn't! Plus, the teams would stand a good chance of designing solutions to existing issues, especially if failure was congratulated: try, try, and try again. In such teams and in such spaces, there would be no harm in getting things wrong. Through failure, the teams would hone their ideas; even if they produced nothing, there would be no monetary loss for the school. The incentive for each employee, to come back to my earlier point, would be the sheer joy of participating more fully in the work of the school, providing even more of a sense of ownership in the process of "how we do school." Ownership builds (increases) loyalty, and loyalty builds (increases) internal marketing, which we can't afford to be without in this day and age.

Time to Competence

In your school, what is the "time to competence"? In other words, how much time does your department chair, division head, or head of school provide an employee to reach competence in his or her area?

With all the changes surrounding us right now, it could be argued that independent schools, being schools for which families (consumers) must pay tuition, need to assure themselves and their communities that they are the top of their game. To do so, school personnel must be at the top of their game; they must be at a level of competence that is agreed upon by those responsible for performance evaulations.

Of course, not everyone is "at competence." When that occurs, what steps does your school take to illuminate the pathway to competence for a particular individual? Additionally, how much time is the school willing to provide that person to attain competence? In an economic environment in which every business (schools included) is competing for a consumer's discretionary dollars, how long can your school afford to let someone attain competence?

Put another way, how can your school reduce time to competence?

This is a cultural issue more than it is a personnel issue. You can hire the best and brightest (if you're lucky), but you can also build a culture of competence that encourages personnel to attain competence in an informed and supportive manner. When "competence" changes as a result of emerging technologies and/or leading practices, does your culture have the flexibility to support and encourage "time to competence"?

Do you have the leaders in place to facilitate that shift? After all, schools can't manage their way to competence; they must lead the way.

On Evaluations

Evaluations--annual performance evaluations--tend to elicit one of three feelings in faculty: tepid interest, intense skepticism, outright dismissal. I suppose that there is a fourth category, that of joyous espousal, but that has to be the rarest of them all!

Why are evaluations such anathema to faculty members? Is the turn-off due to a certain kind of evaluation, such as a perfunctory check-list, or does it have something to do with the very philosophy behind an evaluation, namely that a person who is not the teacher (i.e., an administrator, whether department chair or division head) is judging the teacher's classroom performance, collegial wherewithal, engagement in school life, and so on? Is the actual heart of the issue the notion of being judged on one's work and on one's engagement in the life of the school? Are evaluations perceived as inherently undemocratic and biased?

Yet they remain a necessary evil, since, in some capacity, the leadership of the school needs to have a handle on what's being done and what's not being done. The mission of the school must be met, must be in evidence, which is really what an evaluation serves to highlight.

A perfunctory check-list seems to treat faculty as cogs in a machine, even though some of the points may provide the kind of information needed. The vast majority of schools ask faculty members to write a self-evaluation as well; in some schools, the self-evaluation is the sole instrument of evaluation, whereas in other schools, it serves as a complement to a shorter form that includes basic mission-focused criteria.

The problem with relying solely on a self-evaluation, of course, is that it too is flawed as an evaluative instrument, since the subjectivity has shifted from another party (the administrator) to the teacher. Writing an annual evaluation from the perspective of intense navel-gazing does not provide the school with a sense of comparison, as it eliminates what can be gained from looking outward as well, whether to other teachers within the walls or to other teachers outside the institution.

When it comes down to it, faculty members do not like to be judged or compared because, when they are, it is seen as an attack on their uniqueness as a person; after all, teaching is a way of life, it isn't a job with a well-defined, time-card-oriented beginning and end each day. In a sense, then, who they are as people comes into play with an evaluation.

Yet they exist, and we cannot seem to find a better way to determine, on an annual basis, how we are meeting the mission of the school.

For all the talk about disruptive innovations (and I'm a fan of this kind of thinking), we haven't begun to see a disruptive evaluation. Is that because, by their nature, evaluations cannot be disruptive? Or is it because we're frightened by what that might look like? Can it be done? If so, does someone oversee it? Is that person an administrator? If so, does that evaluation system simply perpetuate what exists currently?

For me, I believe in the value of annual evaluations, despite their imperfections. However, I believe also that there needs to be only a minimum of check-list or short answer options; a healthy dose of self-evaluating prose helps to flesh out how the faculty member is meeting the mission of the school. In other words, the two must exist in concert, even though it may not be a harmonious marriage. Yet I would welcome some disruptive thinking on how schools might evaluate faculty and staff, perhaps something that is more emotionally intelligent.

Key Questions for Cultivating Creative Leaders

1. How are you fostering creativity and borderless thinking on your leadership team?

2. Are you radically rethinking leadership development to rapidly close the effectiveness gap?

3. Do you integrate leadership development with emerging business opportunities to better prepare leaders for the future?

Although many schools continue to deal with the effects of the economy, we need to be concerned about future leadership within our schools. What is your school doing vis-à-vis formation of future leaders?

Courtesy of Working Beyond Borders: The IBM Global Chief Human Resource Officer Study (2010).