through time-wasting vexations I came across a request from a new Headteacher, asking experienced leaders to provide their top tip for the upcoming challenge.
Now I’m not a regular Twitter user or reader, but I was intrigued by the helpful epithets either thoughtfully or casually offered. As a school Head of many, many years I scrolled through to see how many contributors had proffered a version of my personal one-line useful epithet. I was surprised to find that amongst the more than 100 replies, I could not see one which chimed with my own. Indeed, I found a few which positively jarred.
Those which seemed most out of kilter with my view of School Leadership slipped easily into the clumsy category of “youwon’t find this easy or enjoy it, but you will have to do this”. I was left wondering if there were really that many Heads who couldn’t find things that might enthuse our innocent designate. I’ve mixed with many Heads who love the job and say so, but many more who actively
discourage aspirants, accidentally or not, from applying to what is being painted as the most pressured, lonely job that could be imagined. Ouch.
Of course, unless a Head is blessed with extreme good fortune, Zen-like calm or blissful ignorance, there will be days when an alternative profession, any alternative profession, would be a persuasive attraction. Some days pan out like some malevolent game of bingo. They do. There are days when you just have to speculate that ‘surely nothing else can go wrong’, and we all know how that ends.
So how can a Head prepare for days, weeks, or even years which even a goat would find hard to swallow? Days where the
responsibility to make a decision, to carry one out or to observe the out of control
environment would challenge all but an adrenalin addict. Days that don’t balance.
So, what’s my advice? What can help a Head to feel that no matter what hits, there is a way to cope and maintain one’s mental health?
It’s this. If Headship always feels like a lonely job, then you are probably doing it wrong.
I remember trying to help a colleague who was struggling with the emotional toll that the job sometimes inflicts, and he was reflecting
on his need to bolt stuff onto his life to help him relax through the stress that was his and his alone. I walked with him through corridors of the school and couldn’t help noticing that whilst his presence was acknowledged by people passing, nothing was ‘friendly’. The interactions were best described as business- like; professional. And short. Very short. A smile not given or received. When I
mentioned this during our discussion later, he confirmed that he did not feel the need to be friendly, as these people were not his friends. Incidentally, I was reminded of the comedian R.D. Hunter who, when asked why people always smiled at him, replied that it was because he was smiling at them.
I’m not suggesting Cheshire Cat lessons for all, but a smile is an indication for students and staff that a school is a happy place to be, or that all is ok. It also chimes with a model that encourages others to see leadership as a happy job. Most importantly if reflects a particular value-base which enshrines that how people feel at work is important. Apparently it is still not commonly accepted how vital emotional engagement is for learning and resilience and this works at all levels in school.
These days there are leaders who separate themselves from others with a perceived dour aloofness. They profess to be immune from
stress, partly because they feel they should carry out their duties in a cold and
mechanistic fashion, not realising that their lack of symptoms of stress could mean that they are carriers of the condition in the school, or often nowadays, schools. These leaders often justify their emotional
separation by regarding it as being essential to their ability to cope.
Those of us who favour school environments which manifest a symbiotic learning culture quietly shrivel when we come across leaders who get through by ensuring that staff are always reminded who is the top of the food chain. That’s a lonely place, which discourages people popping in to check if the predator-in- chief needs to see a friendly face.
Working back from a need to avoid loneliness involves trying to envision just what it would feel like and look like to be leading a symbiotic school. It does not involve ducking the
responsibility of unpopular decisions, but rather fostering an environment where displaying warmth is not a vice or a chink in the professional armour. The benefits are massive in sustainability, approachability, communication and the all-powerful
emotional engagement. The development of a culture of inter-dependency by listening and asking for help and support should surely be modelled by the people who carry the most
responsibility for encouraging teachers and leaders to do those very things. Many school leaders do this outside of their school, but whilst this might be incredibly useful or even essential, there is something lost if these activities result in distance growing from the
hive of their own school. Leaders should understand that people need a “bestfriend” at their workplace in order to thrive, but there is less information out there about how happy leaders can be if they choose not to apply this to themselves.