The Byproduct

The Byproduct

By Tom Balitewicz

Doctoral Student of Educational Leadership

Bayh College of Education

Indiana State University

&

Ryan Donlan

Assistant Professor of Educational Leadership

Bayh College of Education

Indiana State University

            In the late 1800’s, before the advent of the Edison light bulb and the electrical current to illuminate it, humans unshrouded the darkness with the power of hand-held lamps fueled by kerosene, a refined product of oil.  The earth was perforated with thousands of wells with the intention of drawing millions of barrels of oil to create light in homes during a time when most of humankind was still living by a solar clock.  Kerosene was king during the reign of John D. Rockefeller’s Standard Oil.

            For years, Rockefeller dominated the industry … eventually, a magnate on the world stage. However, much to Rockefeller’s chagrin, an Edison invention, paired with Tesla’s alternating current power, created inexpensive, stable and seemingly permanent light throughout a home or city. Ultimately, these inventions would supplant the kerosene lamp. Realizing his empire was in peril, Rockefeller turned again to his rivers of petroleum, extracting from the earth in the midst of his own personal crisis, a new byproduct, gasoline.

           

            We served as principals in two different decades, yet our experiences with the byproducts of our profession found similarity in their evolutionary development, albeit through tragedy. 

One of us served as principal on December 14, 2012, when one of most horrific events in American history occurred at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, Connecticut.  The loss of innocent lives was incomprehensible, and the reverberations of the tragedy are still felt today. The aftermath was sadly reminiscent of the school shooting at Columbine High School, in Columbine, Colorado, on April 20, 1999, when another of us served in a similar capacity.  Through the ripple effects of both experiences, a reevaluation and reconfiguration of school security and the principalship took place across every school district in the United States.  Both Sandy Hook and Columbine, as well as the hundreds of tragedies that did not garner national headlines, created professional byproducts that we experience in the principalship today.

            One of the many changes expected in schools across our nation was the limitation of public access to school buildings, particularly as it pertained to traffic through student entrances in the morning and afternoon, as well as during the school day. Principals were charged with ensuring that without fail, entrances were better supervised; staff member were stationed at schoolhouse doors not only to welcome students as they entered into school, but also to visibly scan for those who could pose a threat. During the days, doors were locked.

            This came as an intrusion into many of our routines.  Some of us at the secondary level disliked the job at the beginning, as standing by a door for 70 minutes each morning seemed “oddly elementary.”  Others candidly shared it was a waste of “our valuable time.”

What about families who needed our return calls? 

What about parents needing our time before rushing to work? 

What about the hallways or commons areas that needed patrolling? 

What about supervision for morning detention? 

What about ..?

Prior to such national events, it seemed that for principals, our mornings were “ours.”  We would arrive at school early to plan for the day, to return correspondence, to push paper and pencil, and to review the building for cleanliness.  With our changing circumstances, the principalship became more scripted from without.  We embraced our new responsibilities as best we could for the safety of our children. Some of us thought, especially in the wake of the first tragedy, What the heck, eventually the dust will settle, and with some good fortune, we can get back to normal.

We know now that this probably will not be the case.

            As with both Columbine and Newtown, the first week or so had profound relevance to all involved in the “new normal.” Even though these towns were thousands of miles away from us, many in our care were shaken. Some students were fearful to attend school; many families were afraid to send them.  Thus, a principal’s presence at the front door had a calming effect on most everyone.  A principal standing by a door communicated security; it represented the notion, “Not on my watch!”

            In both circumstances, with the first couple weeks of each tragedy in the rearview mirror, students segued into their developmentally appropriate, catatonic states in the morning. As a result, it seemed that our newfound morning jobs lost their luster. 

Front door duty became a bit boring for the principal. 

A new game was needed; new byproducts needed manufacture. 

We needed Gasoline.

In both of our leadership circumstances, a decade apart, a similar byproduct seemed to emerge within us.  It involved using our time at the front door as a teachable moment – one in which we would teach ourselves a thing or two; one in which we would teach others.  One in which all would learn as a result.

Whether through greeting everyone who entered with a robust “Good morning” or through challenging ourselves to manufacture something positive from each day’s better-than-yesterday’s door challenge, it was GAME ON!  Not only did we find that our new game resulted in more positive connections with students and the families, we found that it also had a positive effect upon the acuity with which we could serve as diagnosticians of learning.

A school-readiness check-up presented itself to our principalships each day. 

Students, over time, learned to expect our daily greetings; many even depended on them.  Little would they know we were teaching, learning, gauging, and referring.  On days we could not be by the door, students would share that they missed our morning banter.  One student even told her mom that she had to be dropped off at Door Two because that is “where [her principal] was,” and it was her ritual to say “Hello” in the morning.

Byproducts such as these have allowed leadership to perform exploratory surgery into lives of students, establishing authentic connections that have allowed for higher levels of understanding and trust. These byproducts also have given us an opportunity to demonstrate the caring spirit that we have for all of our students. They have invited us into deepened leadership efficacy through better ways of knowing.

Principals at the door certainly enhance security, but with our new game, we can also enhance acuity as well. Each morning, we are better able to see our students who are dropped off in Escalades, as well as those deposited in Chrysler K’s.  We now better see the warm embrace between child and parent, or conversely the slammed door that stomps to the schoolhouse. Either way, as principals, our new byproduct now allows us to be the first to influence “what happens next” in a child’s life.

The merits of gasoline are, at times, debated, but couldn't we say that it is much more useful in society today than our original use of kerosene? Would this be similar in evolutionary circumstance to the fact that our new byproduct in K-12 leadership is now much more rich, rewarding, and results-driven, than that which we led with prior?

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Tom Balitewicz and Ryan Donlan welcome the opportunity to learn more about the ways in which you connect with your students for deepened abilities as diagnosticians of learning.  Will you please consider contacting them at tbalitewicz@sycamores.indstate.edu or at ryan.donlan@indstate.edu. They would definitely enjoy the conversation!

What Would Atticus Do?

What Would Atticus Do?

By Maria Woodke

Doctoral Student of Educational Leadership

Bayh College of Education

Indiana State University

&

Ryan Donlan

Assistant Professor of Educational Leadership

Bayh College of Education

Indiana State University

An endearing classic for many generations is the novel To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee.  Lee’s characters are rich in development, offering a mosaic of qualities found in the spectrum of humanity, especially her main character, Atticus Finch. Personifying the author’s optimism in the potential of humanity, Atticus represents those qualities that we all wish more of us would possess … those transcending “self” toward something greater.

Atticus, a lawyer in 1930’s fictional Maycomb, Georgia, is intelligent, kind, scrupulous, and genuine.  He shows courage in taking the difficult, yet necessary actions of which others are too ignorant or afraid.  He leads with a quiet dignity … by example, both in his community and through the rearing of his children.   Atticus teaches his children to empathize and to find the best qualities in others, even when it is most challenging.  He teaches them one of the greatest habits that one can display over a lifetime – to forgive in advance.

In a particularly poignant scene, a man angry with Atticus has spit upon him for representing a black man in a rape trial.  To his daughter, Atticus says, “If you can learn a simple trick, Scout, you’ll get along a lot better with all kinds of folks. You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view—until you climb into his skin and walk around in it” (Lee, 1960, p. 22).

Atticus could see that the man’s actions did not negate the good he had within; Atticus chose, rather, to forgive in advance, as the man acted only upon what he knew. He was not inherently evil; he was only as good as circumstance would allow. 

Just how powerful could be the combination of Atticus’s qualities if applied to K-12 leadership? 

Those of us successful in K-12 leadership often fancy ourselves reflective practitioners, analyzing aspects of our professional performance with effort while tucking away ideas for growth continually. When things get a bit personal, we admit hesitantly the possession of our hidden, pride-protected zones kept under lock and key, those stubborn areas inhibiting our abilities to delve satisfactorily into our actions … certainly into our motivations. 

We often proclaim, with conviction, “We are right!” with our foundations rocked when “found out” otherwise, especially by ourselves. Yet, the best in us recognize limitation; our most honest looking glasses acknowledge fallibility.  In these circumstances, the strongest peer into our reflections, saying, “Yep, that’s part of the me that makes, me, Me.”

Given our imperfections, what do we do when confronted with colleagues unlike ourselves, those who do not share our visions, philosophies, or beliefs about education, let alone what is best for students?  What do we do when challenged by those who make decisions that we believe will have adverse affects?  How do we act when individuals behave in a manner not befitting team, as we would captain such?

            More importantly, how does our authenticity measure up to that quintessential leader, Atticus Finch?  Where is the sweet spot between the leadership characteristics of altruism and utilitarianism, one that allows egoism to travel pensively, if not honestly?

Some of us are fortunate to say with confidence and truthful resolve that we display many of the qualities of Atticus’s character.  We are the ones who work successfully amidst the most difficult of relationships, those monthly, weekly, or even daily tests of our professionalism.

We are the ones who, more often than not, balance the “ism’s” above.

Yet, consider what Atticus said to Scout about truly understanding a person – the part about considering everything through the other person’s point of view: 

How many of us do that? 

How many of us lead while being not about us?

How many of us understand where others stand in terms of where they sit? 

How many of us are equipped to climb into skin-most-foreign and walk about? 

            Buckingham & Coffman (1999) offered advice on how we can disagree, agreeably, with colleagues.  They maintain that great managers know “people don’t change much” and urge managers not to “waste time trying to put in what was left out” but to “try to draw out what was left in,” for “that is hard enough” (p. 57). Many in our profession spend time trying to put into others what was left out and unwittingly discount much of what we should be doing to draw out their best.

Is that what Atticus would do?

            Buckingham & Coffman (1999) noted actions that could be interpreted as part of the playbook of Atticus Finch, although with our making this connection for them, post-publication. They said, “Great managers look inward.  They look inside the company, into each individual, into the differences in style, goals, needs, and motivations of each person . . . these subtle differences guide them toward the right way to release each person’s unique talents into performance” (p. 141).

 

What would we see if we took the time for this inward focus?  Would we better be able to model in leadership what Atticus modeled to Scout through restraint, humanity, and parenthood?  Could we better forgive in advance?  How would our profession benefit if more often than not, we were to engage in what Buckingham & Coffman (1999) called the “conscious act” of “finding each person’s strengths and then focusing on those strengths” (p. 143)?

We believe that’s what Atticus would do, and we can’t think of a better act to follow. 

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This Ed. Leadershop collaborative contribution is an outgrowth of an original piece by Maria Woodke that she prepared for the Department of Educational Leadership in the Bayh College of Education at Indiana State University.  If you would like to contact Maria Woodke, or her 2^nd author of this collaborative piece, Ryan Donlan, please feel free to do so at awoodke@sycamores.indstate.edu or ryan.donlan@indstate.edu. They would be interested in hearing your thoughts on the influence of Atticus Finch on contemporary educational leadership.

Making Meaning of Moment

Making Meaning of Moment

By Dr. Ryan Donlan

Assistant Professor

Department of Educational Leadership

Bayh College of Education

Indiana State University

St. Paddy’s Day Parade weekend for years brought to the Donlan household an annual yard ritual.  In the first thaw of early spring in mid-Michigan, I has my perennial opportunity to grab a canine scoop and clear out a winter’s worth of “Weimaraner” from the back yard. 

It wasn’t the most scenic of jobs, yet it was actually a momentary stay against confusion, a nice respite from life’s professional challenges.

As I picked up one dropping at a time amidst hundreds, I enjoyed the moment and the pause in calendar that the day allowed.

As I often share: Let’s not wish away the present.  As when we are done with this college degree, this professional position, or in a larger context … this chapter of our lives, what’s next?  For many of us, we’ll be greeted by growing children who will consider us as more ATM’s than those to ask advice.  We’ll all be a tick-tock or two closer to our demise.  Yet that’s ok.

I write today to implore K-12 educators to pause, prioritize, and make meaning of moment, while asking ourselves, “How are we spending the gift of current circumstance?”  A presentation last week to a great bunch of school leaders got me thinking,  Are we running the risk of minimalizing the moments of today, brokered instead with too much a focus on the future? 

Examples would include:

Hoping that this troublesome group of students will graduate so that we will be done dealing with their parents.

Awaiting faculty members’ retirement so that we can have some more young energy in those classrooms.

Yearning to get beyond this principalship into a superintendency.

Spending our evenings doing tomorrow’s deskwork, rather than with families.

One day, I’m betting that we will look back upon the lives we led this school year, both professionally and personally, with one of two metaphorical constructs crossing our minds – Gold or October.  Consider the following:

Looking through our mind’s eye with Gold, we might someday reflect on the words of Robert Frost (Latham, 1972) in Nothing Gold Can Stay (1923), as did S. E. Hinton’s characters Johnny and Ponyboy in The Outsiders (1967 book and 1983 film adaptation) about the temporality of life circumstance, especially that which is dear to us. 

Consider Frost’s words:

Nature's first green is gold,


Her hardest hue to hold.


Her early leaf's a flower;


But only so an hour.


Then leaf subsides to leaf,


So Eden sank to grief,


So dawn goes down to day


Nothing gold can stay.

Since Gold is so temporary and fleeting … since it can’t stay, as Frost noted … wouldn’t it be sad if we didn’t even pause to savor present circumstance that we are now experiencing? 

Our children wanting a bit of our time.

Our dog wagging for that mid-evening walk.

A call to our parents, who are long-into retirement.

How will we feel, upon reflection, if have not made meaning of moment, if we have not tended to the those things in life right now that are calling our name … asking for our time …  such as faith, family, or the fabric of our community that exists outside school. 

Are we making meaning of moment this year, as we live our professional calendars?

Another way we might look back upon our lives, someday, is through the mind’s eye of October, which can provide a glimpse of how we might feel if we DO make meaning of moment.

We’ll still experience a degree of sadness, possibly, as we reflect upon times gone by, yet through October, we are better able to look backward with a sense of satisfaction. Through October, we’ll be able to look forward with hope.

Consider lyrics written by Johnny Mercer and Barry Manilow in When October Goes (1984). 

And when October goes


The snow begins to fly


Above the smoky roofs


I watch the planes go by

The children running home
beneath a twilight sky


Oh, for the fun of them


When I was one of them

And when October goes


The same old dream appears


And you are in my arms


To share the happy years

I turn my head away
 to hide the helpless tears


Oh, how I hate
 to see October go

I should be over it now I know


It doesn't matter much how old I grow


I hate to see October go

The watching of planes, the memories of children playing, and the thinking back upon someone who was once in our arms – memories that provide us comfort, albeit with a chapter of our lives that has gone the way of October. 

Two things about October serve as harbingers of life’s gifts: [The 1^st] – the fact that we made meaning of moment while life was presenting itself, thus creating those positive memories; [The 2^nd] – that fact that the seasonal nature of October presupposes a spring and summer prior, AND one that visits us perennially. 

That’s the hope. 

As K-12 educators, not only do we have the opportunity to make meaning of moment over and over again throughout our lives, we have the obligation of teaching those with whom we work and learn the same. 

Nothing is gone for any of us, ad-infinitum, just because we let something slip by unattended.  There’s still hope for us, no matter life’s resume.

A friend and colleague, a K-12 superintendent, recently asked leaders in his school district to spend a weekend at home, rather than [as they often did] working in their offices at school.  His expectation, as well, was that work would not be taken home. 

I applaud strong leadership that models and encourages making meaning of moment.  Through such, we’re saving lives.

References

Latham, E., & Thompson, L. (Eds.). (1972). The Robert Frost reader: Poetry and prose. New York, NY: Owl Books.

Manilow, B., & Mercer, J. H. (1984). When October goes. Universal Music Publishing Group & The Johnny Mercer Foundation.

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Dr. Ryan Donlan strives to make meaning of the moment, with better grades given for effort than for performance.  If anything he has written piques your interests or spurs reflection, please feel free to contact him at (989) 450-0272 or at ryan.donlan@indstate.edu.

Transformational Coaching in 3-D Leadership

Transformational Coaching in 3-D Leadership

By Dr. Ryan Donlan

Assistant Professor

Department of Educational Leadership

Bayh College of Education

Indiana State University

At our local soccer association’s field this past week, I sat-on-edge for the Donlan family’s most riveting match. Our son Sean (9) and daughter Katelyn (8) had their first-ever team face-off.  As parents, we tried to keep things friendly, amidst big brother’s big talk.

            The game was quick, intense, and hard-hitting, as little kids’ soccer goes.  Fifty-five minutes had passed, and much to our surprise, Katelyn’s team was wiping the field with Sean’s. 

They were up 4 – 1 … with only five minutes ‘til the whistle.

Not a pleasureful ride home, we thought.

Sean, typically a more reserved defensive player, was positioned outside on offense – “right wing.”  To our elation, he exploded into action, kicking three, fact-action goals in the remaining minutes of play. 

The whistle blew; it was over.

A tie.

We couldn’t have been more delighted, proud of both kids and happy for Sean’s personal circumstance.  Yet, I couldn’t help but thinking, Where the heck did that come from!?!

            I pondered Sean’s development as a player this past year.  Formerly content to run with the pack, he was now stepping-up with good ball handling, a smooth tempo, and targeted contribution.  Admittedly, he’s not often a clutch player; what we witnessed in Donlan vs. Donlan was really unique.   Yet something special was afoot. 

Thinking of Coach’s decision to trust Sean on offense with a game gone awry, I was confident that he knew something about Sean, team chemistry, the game, and the dynamic that existed on the field more deeply than we.  I also noticed that when he made his typical player rotation late in the game, he didn’t pull Sean, as scheduled. 

Over the course of the season, Coach has shown an ability to read those on the team who are sometimes apprehensive, yet need opportunity, even when they don’t know they want it.  Coach knows the players better than they know themselves, at times … bringing about a healthy transformation in those who follow his lead, certainly in my son. 

Coach knows how to lead and when to act.  He seems to do this three-dimensionally, as I’ll share shortly.

Can school leaders accomplish the same?  Can they bring about a transformation in others, even at times when their followers or teammates do not recognize their own potential?  Can school leaders foster clutch play when the stakes are high, inviting followers to step beyond prior performance?  Can they lead “3-D”?

The notion of leader-as-coach is not really anything new, yet the notion of transformational coaching in 3-D leadership may very well be.

The Ohio State Studies, beginning in the 1950’s, offered researchers quadrants of leadership behavior on a matrix with two axes: The X-axis including those behaviors in which leaders initiated structure, and the Y-axis including those behaviors that more of consideration.  Leaders in the upper-right-hand quadrant were found to exhibit high degrees of both behaviors, and thus provided some initial descriptions of what some of us have later referred to as coach-like leadership (Northouse, 2004).   

Around the same time, The Institute for Social Research at the University of Michigan was studying leader behavior, particularly as it had an impact on small groups.  Researchers made the distinction of production orientation and employee orientation in leadership.  At first, these orientations were envisioned to be on two separate ends of the same continuum, with a leader leaning toward one orientation or the other; however, as studies continued, these orientations were envisioned as independent entities so that leaders could be oriented toward both at the same time (Northouse, 2004).

            Blake & Mouton in the 1960’s provided a managerial grid, in which they noted a leader’s concern for production along the X-axis and a concern for people along the Y-axis.  Those in the top right quadrant were termed, Team Leaders, getting us closer to this notion of coach (Northouse, 2004).

Hersey & Blanchard wrote of situational leadership in the 1980s, including the notion of a leader’s directive behavior on the X-axis and supportive behavior on the Y-axis, with those found in the upper-right-hand quadrant known to have a coaching style.  Of great value in their model was the consideration of followers in determining the type of leadership style or behavior to be employed (Northouse, 2004). 

Whitaker, Miller, & Donlan (2014) offer their own conceptual model of leadership, illustrating through the sketch-work of a new principal, a leader’s concern for accountability along the X-axis and concern for a school’s climate along the Y-axis. They note that those leaders in the upper-right-hand quadrant who employ a both/and approach to their school leadership are Pathfinders.

These contributors have offered our profession helpful and practical models of leader-as-coach.  Yet, can we deepen these models?  Can we make what is two-dimensional, three-dimensional?

We can, by looking beyond a leader’s behavior as that which rests inside a given quadrant of any theorist’s two-dimensional matrix, or beyond a leader’s behavior that moves between and among the quadrants, toward leadership that can drill deep in a three-dimensional sense, no matter where positioned.  This ability of leaders to drill deep is indicative of the leader-as-coach’s scientific knowledge or visceral intuition about those on the team that runs deeper than the norm. 

It is transformational coaching in 3-D leadership.

Transformational coaching in 3-D leadership’s first level of depth is a coach’s ability to read what team members offer, such as interpreting their words, tones, gestures, postures, and facial expressions. Based upon these interpretations (situational analyses), action is taken.  The next level of depth is the coach’s ability to consider what people have done in the past and whether or not this is congruent with present circumstance. A deeper level yet is when a coach envisions what people have the potential to do, given present cues, past behavior, trends in performance, and current context with a slight degree of unpredictability.  Deepening circumstance even further includes a coach’s intuitive understanding of the human condition and much that is probable, given myriad circumstances of unpredictability and complexity, along with a bit of metaphysical happenstance. 

Our best leaders-as-coaches invite their teams into transformation by way of a three-dimensional understanding of themselves and others, deepening through action the relevance and impact of frameworks in general literature.  They are practitioners building theory inductively as they lead … as they transform.  In such, they are creating stepping-stones toward heightened efficacy in K-12 schools. 

References

Northouse, P. G. (2004). Leadership: Theory and practice (3^rd ed.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, Inc.

Whitaker, T., Miller, S., & Donlan, R. (2014). The secret solution: How one principal discovered the path to success. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Education.

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Dr. Ryan Donlan strives weekly to unpack the layers of leadership in creating better opportunities in K-12 schools and higher education. If you have had a story regarding an inspirational, three-dimensional coach-as-leader, will you please consider giving Dr. Donlan a call at (812) 237-8624 or writing him at ryan.donlan@indstate.edu.  He would very much be interested in hearing from you.