Listen. I fully appreciate the middle aged-ness of myself. Truly. However, this blog is about being TRANSPARENT as well, right? Not only am I a “seasoned” leader…I also might be have watched the “Eras” tour an OBNOXIOUS amount of times since it has come out.
It’s the perfect thing to have playing in the background while I cook, clean or… scroll. And if you know me, you know I’m not that great at cooking or cleaning. (I like to think it’s ok because at least I am cute and funny…but MT says I’m not that funny. Sigh.)
Anyhoo…I’ve noticed here lately that there are some powerful lyrics that keep getting stuck in my head from Ms. Swift. And the application from them to my leadership experiences just can’t be denied, even I wanted to pretend to not be all Swift’sessed. For those who associate her with pop sugar and bouncy are in for a treat.
First up…in “All Too Well”, we have this gem:
“And you call me up again just to break me like a promiseSo casually cruel in the name of being honestI’m a crumpled up piece of paper lying here..”
Causally cruel. In the name of being honest.
We hear, frequently, that honesty and transparency in leadership is crucial. A necessary trait. Sometimes though, that honesty can be wielded like a sword. The person swinging that sword has the force field of being right, regardless of how deep it cuts.
Not seeing how it could apply?
I’ve written a lot about #thefirstyear, and all the things as a principal I’d gotten wrong and the adjustments I made thanks to the team around me. How though, did I know, how tragically terrible it was going?
I was on my way out to a meeting when I was pulled aside by members of my “team”. They asked me to sit in one of their offices, while the two of them broke the news. They had finally been compelled “in the name of being honest” to share information I needed to know.
The staff was unhappy. They were looking to leave. The scores and culture on the campus I’d been honored enough to be asked to lead was falling apart, because of me. Because of my leadership.
I was devastated.
But I was also confused. I managed to maintain composure and ask. Who? Who wanted to leave? What? What exactly had I done?
Well…they couldn’t tell me that. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
I vividly remember asking, “So what I am hearing is that I am a terrible principal…but you have nothing to offer in how I can get better? Or to change what I am doing?” They didn’t.
I can’t even articulate how devastating it is to not only hear that you’re a failure, but also that there wasn’t anything you could do about it. From people you thought were also on your “team”.
It was a pivotal moment in my principal’ing experience. If you’ve read this from ASCD, you know it didn’t get better right away. But, it did get better. It actually got a lot better before I left 6 years later.
I never forgot, however, how cutting that conversation was, even in all its rightness.
I used to tell my staff to always remember when talking to parents about a concern to always remember that the student you are so worked up over, for whatever reason, is most likely the most important thing in someone else’s world. If you go guns in blazing, no matter how right you are, you aren’t going to be heard.
You can be right all day long and lose every relationship you have.
So today’s lesson is this…worry less about being so honest, and care more about the relationship. YOu can, believe it or not, do both.
Swift singing &
