Wanting a
Space, Part I
By Dr. Ryan Donlan
Assistant Professor
Department of Educational
Leadership
Bayh College of Education
Indiana State University
There I was, face-to-face
with my new adversary subsequent to the scream of two 3rd-grade
girls (my daughter and her friend next door belting it out for all its worth) –
a 3-foot black Coluber constrictor atop my front porch.
Snakes fascinate
me. This black racer certainly did.
And … I have a healthy
respect, so I made sure to check its venom potential on-line before making contact. No venom to speak of, but I DID learn that he
bites.
The black racer
is not-at-all docile. He’s very quick, slithering
left and right as I approached. Though
gloved-up, garden-style, I thought, “Too bad I left my stick-proof,
law-enforcement-grade gloves for my K-12 successor and her vehicle searches. Those would have come in handy.”
It was now
man-versus-reptile.
As I chased him
across the porch and into the adjacent bushes, he then “went perpendicular,” climbing
a weeping, ornamental tree near our berm’s corner. Slithering up branches and watching
me all the while, he s-curved his
head and neck (if snake’s have a neck), ready to strike, as I got near.
This was all happening
to the delight of my children, who were jazzed that I was on-the-job,
addressing this snake-issue.
As he fortified himself
within the branches, I decided to stand down, finding him later that evening burying
half of himself, head-down, in our mulch, again near the front porch, adjacent
to where my son, Sean, digs holes in our yard for his golf’s short-game.
Hmmm
… I thought (alone now, as our children were at soccer practice), having Sean, Katelyn, or the girl next door bitten
was not my idea of good parenting or neighborliness.
I could chop him in half, I considered. No, that
just wouldn’t be right. I then flashed back
to my years in K-12, which helped me decide what I must do.
Neighbors
probably watched from their windows with delight as I used a plastic
snatch-‘em-up tool (probably procured at the county fair, the Covered Bridge
Festival, a Monster Truck cub scout event, or in a holiday stocking stuffer
from my most-eclectic father) to “encourage” this snake to another part of our
property.
After a few
dodges and parries … relocation successful.
Family
saved.
Neighbors
satisfied.
Respectful co-existence,
person-to-reptile assured.
That respectful co-existence part was very
important to me, as I settled into a front porch rocker.
My thoughts again
went back to K-12. I pondered this
snake; then of another thing that fascinated me, yet at the same time could be foul, nasty, and certainly not with my best
interest at heart … something that intermittently dared me into its
personal space with an intent of self-righteous striking … yet something that
often exposed its vulnerability, giving me a choice about what to do when
confronting it …
K-12 Parents.
I remembered the
one who arrived at the school to discuss her son’s suspension, wearing a shirt
that said, “F$ck You and the Horse You
Rode In ON.” The shirt didn’t have a dollar sign.
I remembered the
dad who shared with me over the telephone, “Ryan, if it weren’t for the five
warrants out for my arrest, I’d come up to that school right now and kick your A@s!”
I remembered the
overindulgent business type who Rotary’d with my superintendent and whose son
organized a sit-down strike in my high school.
While I pondered a good-ole’ fashioned kick to this boy’s behind, my
boss suggested that I turn this one into a “Win/Win.” That one
really got under my skin.
I remembered
these … and more.
Then, something
occurred to me: These folks were just
like my snake.
They were trying
to bite me while I was in their personal space and in doing so, they were most
assuredly in mine.
Yet, could it
have been that they were simply Wanting a
Space?
Could they have
simply wanted a space to live their lives, and through circumstance, we were bumping
into each other? Could these folks have
been doing the best they could with what they had, even if it felt short of my
expectations?
I think so.
And it is often a
parent’s nature to strike at obstacles, if they have no greater resources. I perceived that they were reptilian, limited
and overindulgent, yet in considering my next move – chopping them in half or
using another implement to redirect – I often would pause and think of their positive
characteristics, as people deserving of my effort:
They
were working hard to make present circumstances work, as they were dealing with
the hand they were dealt;
They
needed a place to live, and because of geography, they were forced into a
relationship with ME;
They
loved their offspring and were simply trying to provide them with a good life
in the context of what they knew and believed.
And I was in
actuality, an obstacle to them. I was
the snake. I was providing more than a
distraction; I was providing barriers to their preferred paths of least
resistance, affixed between their present and future.
It didn’t matter
who was right; what mattered was, “What Was.”
Did I at times,
chop? Yep.
Did I more often,
move to co-exist? Assuredly.
In dealing with others
who are very much different from ourselves, shouldn’t we, at times, ask, “What
are we doing for those who are poised to strike, yet just Wanting a Space?”
The how of the answer is for future
conversation.
_______________________________________________________________________
Dr.
Ryan Donlan is pondering snake charming and other aerobic exercises of leadership
and looks forward to sharing strategies for handling those who are difficult in
future weeks. If you can help him unearth
what he seeks and provide additional information for our readership, will you
please consider contact him at (812) 237-8624 or at ryan.donlan@indstate.edu.