By Mark

In the last few days, it seems I've received easily a dozen Outlook meeting requests–those convenient little emails which, once clicked the right way, immediately update your calendar and thereby run your life.

Lately, though, every single time I hovered over the "accept" button, I was greeted by another dialog box warning me about this new appointment: "Conflicts with another appointment on your calendar."

Microsoft Outlook is trying to tell me something.

I think it is trying to tell me I need to start "declining" meeting requests. I wish the dialog box were more direct: "Say no."

So, I sat down and made a list of my school-related obligations not directly related to the teaching of my classes.

I counted a total of nine completely separate obligations representing nine totally different circles of influence and responsibility within my building, district, and local union.

Then, from my list of nine, I made a series of concentric circles, with an all-too-lifelike stick-figure in the middle–the word "ME" in the stick figure's body. Closest to stick-figure me were the obligations about which I felt the most interest and passion. Further away, those obligations I engage in because of honest interest, but about which I have to pep-talk myself into being passionate about prior to every meeting. conventiently, every group or meeting except two could be boiled into a catchy acronym.

Immediately, three of the obligations seemed clearly poised to fall off the target. One of these I had fallen into by inadvertently speaking at a meeting and then being–somehow, I'm not sure how–folded into the group via that same Microsoft Outlook meeting request tool which now seemed to be interested in my liberation. Another of these obligations is a committee whose aims I see great value in, but which I cannot seem to muster enthusiasm about. The third is rather innocuous, not particularly time consuming at all, and is more a think-tank than anything else.

I take it as a sign of what I am interpreting as my reputation and value to my building and district that I keep finding myself being called upon as a "teacher-leader" in these capacities–and I realize that can easily come across as totally and egregiously arrogant, which generally describes me well, but which is not how I intend that above statement to come across. I'm willing to speak my mind in a way which tends toward the more diplomatic, so maybe that's part of it, since others may be more reticent to do the same.

And perhaps there is also some arrogance behind my reasoning for not stepping aside–there is the sentiment, however illogical, that if I or other teachers step away from these leadership roles that the void will remain unfilled and the teacher voice will gradually fade into silence–replaced by other voices, other stakeholders, or no voice at all. We're all busy. None of us is going around searching for more meetings, special projects, or crusades to champion. Nonetheless, I feel guilty when I hear about an under-attended union meeting or a tech session where only three teachers showed up. I tell myself I can't do everything, yet I keep hearing myself agreeing to try.

While I wrestle with all this, I've begun proactively working with a couple of colleagues to step into what is presently my role in various groups, gradually delegating more and more responsibility and cultivating their leadership potential however I can.

But this doesn't change the reality that I simply need to bow out gracefully, and soon, from some of these outer obligations–and say "no" to the new ones which I see coming down the pike.

And I've never been good at that, which is how I got myself in this position in the first place.