By Thomas Evans/Spin Education
Being perfectionists, or at least having a compulsion leading in that direction, is a part of what gets people into the head’s office. Living with that private compulsion is bad enough, but it is exacerbated by our schools’ preoccupation with improvement, evaluation, self-evaluation, and ultimately, EXCELLENCE. Ironically, this can get carried to the extreme and become part of what gets good people out of the head’s office. Our paying such homage to becoming always better than good, sensitive, kind, and effective, makes heads feel that they don’t measure up.
THE HEAD’S LAMENT:
“When I’m right, no one remembers. When I’m wrong, no one forgets.”
We acknowledge privately, professionally, and ceremonially that the perfect head is nowhere to be found. On a private level we heads know our imperfections only too well. We improve upon what we can and quietly lament the rest. At the professional level, our associations offer conferences that help those who attend to deal with problems of imperfect leadership. As for ceremony, I remember well the installation of the new head at a prestigious school, where the late Reverend John Verdery reminded the dignitaries attending of the school community’s obligation to support its new leader, even when wrong. He likened this relationship to a marriage in which the partners grow together in confronting challenges and resolving differences.
How many guests applauded enthusiastically and forgot quickly? Back in our schools, on a real day-to-day basis, is there adequate acknowledgment that Mr. Perfect isn’t in any school? We’ve all see those formal letters from board chairmen announcing the selection of the new head. There is the “delighted” part at the beginning, and in the middle the section on accomplishments, usually accompanied by a paragraph about the perfect spouse and beautiful children. The closing talks about how fortunate the school is. The letter makes everyone feel warm. There’s excellence here!
I dream about a letter that has an additional section, which could read as follows:
“By the way, we at Parkington Academy got, when we hired Mr. John Doe, a package deal. While he is the best candidate we could have hoped to attract, he has several personal and professional weaknesses (in this job, they become indistinguishable!) that he discussed in detail with the Selection Committee.
“He believes unrealistically in the ability of adults, individually and collectively, to arrive at decisions in children’s and the school’s best interests most of the time. If you should blunder badly, his apparent weakness is the inability to make some forceful decision that would have prevented the mess in the first place.
“He hates delivering bad news, so his procrastination here is awful. If you have really blown it, if you’re lucky, you’ll sense his disapproval before he actually talks to you about it. (That gives you time to correct something—if that’s what’s needed).
“He encourages ridiculous ideas when he should not. This reflects his slightly dreamy, even naïve nature that encourages all initiatives and possibilities, however far-fetched. Keep your requests within reason so he isn’t sidetracked from the important things.
“Despite the Board’s charge to him that he run the school, his style is misleading. He solicits ideas and opinions, which gives people a reassuring sense of his democratic approach. Until, of course, he listens even to a majority of “yes’s” and still says “No!” That doesn’t mean he didn’t listen. He just said “no.”
“He’s not always clear in explaining his role. Just when you think he’s your intellectual leader, championing an educational issue, he’ll turn business man, charged as he is with keeping our financial house in order.
“He’s wordy. Not intentionally, of course, but heads want to be sure that everybody understands everything. With kindergarteners and their grandparents expecting clear communication, clarity and brevity may be mutually exclusive.
“He’s rarely where you want him to be, when you want him to be there, and in the receptive mood you want him to be in. Given the pressures on your time, this becomes a serious shortcoming of his. Be patient. Schedule an appointment if you have to. That door’s ability to be closed protects your privacy, too.
“His time management leaves lots to be desired. He wants people to meet their deadlines, but he struggles to meet his own. If he’d only close his door more forcefully and be inaccessible for once, his day wouldn’t be such a series of interruptions and he’d get important things done on time.
“He’s slippery as can be in providing answers about difficult personnel decisions. In fact, his reluctance to discuss any details will convince at least a few people that he has undoubtedly been unfair. He’ll be fair as he can be, but we’re not hiring Solomon.
“These are only starters–a few headlines. I’m sure you’ll find more irritants. I bring them to your attention because when the honeymoon is over, we don’t expect to catalog all his flaws and re-make the man in some influential constituent’s ‘perfect image’ . . . or worse, when we find that we can’t, reconvene the Search Committee to find a new head just like the one at so and so’s daughter’s school, where the ever-so-statesmanlike head just doesn’t have Doe’s problems.
“He may not have Doe’s problems; he has his own. And may his school be just as humane in addressing them as I know we will be in accepting Doe, with his particular strengths and weaknesses.”
Editors’ note: Thomas Reid, my now-former head of school at Palmer Trinity in Miami, Florida, recently shared with me this piece from his colleague, Thomas Evans, which was originally written in 1990. I found Mr. Evans’s insight as timely as ever, and I reached out to him for his permission to publish the piece on Spin Education.