By Tom White
I’ve never had an existential crises. Frankly, I’ve never had the time for it. But this past year has caused me to do a lot of thinking about my role as a teacher leader and how it aligns with – and conflicts with – my role as a teacher.
Teacher leadership, according to my personal definition, is when a practicing teacher goes beyond working with his students and does something to affect change in the broader context of education. Teacher leadership is incredibly important; policy and executive decisions are being made all the time and everywhere by various stakeholders, many of whom have never taught and most of whom aren’t currently teaching. It’s imperative that current, practicing teachers are at the table when these decision are made.
But there’s an inherent problem built into teacher leadership: time. Actually two problems: time and energy. Most decisions are discussed and made during the workday, and those days are usually not in July. Teachers are expected to be elsewhere during those times, and if they’re aren’t elsewhere it’s because they wrote elaborate plans for someone who’s far less qualified so that their classroom culture doesn’t completely collapse while they’re gone.
For me, that has always been a major barrier for teacher leadership. I’ve always tried to take on no more than I can handle. But I’ve also tried to take on no less than I can handle; because I firmly believe in the value of having a practicing teacher working with other stakeholders on important work.
But then this year happened.
Most teachers will tell you that 20% of the students take up 80% of a teacher’s time and energy. That’s a nice way of saying that one out of five students are “high-maintenance,” which is a nice way of saying that four out of five students can generally behave themselves.
So about one out of five kiddos takes a little extra effort on behalf of the teacher. But in reality, it’s more like three to seven. When it’s seven, you want to celebrate. You want to kiss the teachers in the grade below you and you want the year to last forever. But when one out of three of your students are high-maintenance, you want to kick the teachers below you and you want the year to last a week.
This year I have ten “high maintenance kids” in a class of 29 fourth graders. That’s a little more than one in three. I can handle it, but like I tell my wife when she asks how my day went, “It was fine, but it wasn’t pretty.” Having a tough class is tough. You’re on edge. You can’t let your guard down. You have to constantly and relentlessly hold every kid accountable for every infraction. It’s exhausting, but it works. My class looks – to an outsider – like the epitome of classroom management. But to the people who work with them while I’m gone: the substitutes, the PE teacher, the music teacher; it’s the epitome of dysfunction.
I wake up ready to change the world. I come home exhausted.
And that’s a problem for someone trying to be a teacher leader. I need time and energy to do that work, and I need it after I do my day job. And sometimes I just don’t have it.
Fortunately, I have the next best things.
First of all, I have the advantage of perspective. I have thirty-plus years of teaching behind me; I’ve been here before and I’ve survived thrived. This class is definitely not the easiest class I’ve ever worked with, but they’re not the toughest. Not by a long shot. I can clearly remember the third-grade class I had in 96-97. I don’t want to, but I can.
Secondly, I’m pretty good at classroom management. I can be rigid and I can be strict. It’s not my preferred modus operandi, but I can channel Vince Lombardi if I need to. And there have been many times this year when I’ve needed to.
Finally, the colleagues with whom I collaborate on teacher leadership projects get it. They value the teacher’s voice at the table and they understand that teaching itself is what all of this is all about. They’re willing to pick up some of the slack when and if one of us teachers needs to devote more time and energy to teaching. At least I hope they are.
So this is one of those years. Normally, I’m able to spend 95% of my time and energy on teaching and the other 5% on teacher leadership. But not this year. These kids need more of me.
And they’ll get it.
Tom, Reading your post on a quiet Sunday afternoon transported me to tomorrow — another tiring Monday. I am having one of those 1 to 3 high needs years you describe. I have felt discouraged about becoming so skeptical of leadership opportunities that excited me before school started. Your post comes as a timely reminder I have colleagues who will understand that my class needs me instead. These kids will only be 6th graders once, and they come first. Leadership can wait. Still, I haven’t given up entirely. Sometimes leadership feeds me so well, I can recover from the ‘fine, but not pretty’ days before I get home to tell my family the story. It really depends on what it is: Writing from my practice or professional learning communities, bring it on! Policy discussions, not so much. If I choose well, I think I can pull off a 98 to 2 ratio teaching to leadership ratio. Thanks for the perspective and may you channel Vince Lombardi tomorrow as needed. And may you say yes to the just-right leadership opportunities that come your way.
I agree with Mark, hybrid roles sound great, but in practice, I’ve never seen a hybrid teacher who only does two half-jobs. Part of the reason is probably the types of people who are attracted to teacher leadership.
But my point wasn’t about finding relief from stress. I’ll be fine. My point is that teacher leadership is important, but not as important as teaching. Fortunately, non-teaching educators, like the people I work with, understand that all too well and are always very supportive when a teacher leader has to yield to the demands of the day-job from time to time.
Tom,
I read a terrific book called “Cultivating Teacher Renewal,” by Barbara Larivee. It was essential reading a couple of years ago when I was also feeling exhausted, and it can transform your experience of teaching.
The high needs students are worthy of our best efforts, just as much as the kids who are “good” at school. Yes – we could consider lowering teacher:student ratios. And we could advocate for school readiness: student should arrive at school well-rested, well-fed, well-loved, and curious. And my favorite: the hybrid teacher.
Hybrid teachers spend 1/2 of their time in the classroom and 1/2 of their time working on curriculum, instruction, assessment or POLICY. How great would it be to have energized teachers who have the time and energy to cultivate the policy that enriches and extends teachers’ stewardship of the profession? Everything from what we learn, how we learn, how we know we learned, and the policies that foster student and staff engagement would be up for research, examination, modification and dissemination.
Although I love the idea of the hybrid teacher, I think what is most important is personal wellness. If we are to sustain teacher leaders and transform public education so that it is a healthy experience for students and staff, then we need to sustain ourselves as individuals. There’s no way that teachers will be able to change the world until we change ourselves. Our wellness is primary, and a good place to start. Best wishes.
Gamal, you are right that the hybrid model can be the best of both worlds, if… There are so many statements that follow that if.
I was in a hyrbid role the last three years as a high school English teacher and TOSA. The hybrid model seems to work better at secondary where there are more discrete breaks (I could have 3 periods of one role, three periods of the other). The challenge comes back to time even in that role… and the added issue that not only might we have higher-need students, we have high-maintenance colleagues or administrators. Working with adults is far more difficult (imo) than working with kids.
One key to the success of any kind of teacher leadership is the answer to this question: Is the teacher allowed to innovate or is the teacher carrying out pre-determined tasks? Rephrased: is the teacher posed a problem to solve or is the teacher given a solution to implement? The former is leadership, the latter is administrative delegation of duties. My hybrid role evolved from serving one building (where I felt I had less room for innovation) to being a central district role (where I am given wider range for innovation)… which in part are what factored in my decision to take a full-time district TOSA role instead of continuing in the hybrid position. Leaving the classroom was a decision it took me about six months to make, and I’m still doubting it, but I know that my hybrid identity was not sustainable. I plan to return to the classroom after my work at central office is accomplished.
I also agree that personal wellness is something that we have to be reminded about. Those of us driven toward teacher leadership often go that route because we see something we want to help improve…and usually there’s some deep drive to steer bigger systems toward justice, equity, or just plain reasonableness. When that crusade becomes our whole life, sometimes it doesn’t hurt to step back and remind ourselves that this is, in fact, also a job for earning a paycheck…a paycheck we use to raise a family or live a full life in those few hours outside our work day.