The best I have I give to my school.
That is the reality and nobility of selflessness and sacrifice that forms the measure of every great principal that I know. Though teachers get a lot of credit for the great work that they do (and they should), principals are too often overlooked or mischaracterized as school building managers.
Not the principals that I know.
The principals that I know and admire are true believers, deep thinkers, innovators, problem-solvers, teachers, motivators, mentors and care-givers to the children, faculty and staffs in their schools.
For those who have never been a principal, let’s take a look inside a school to better understand what is happening this morning.
School Principal: The Most Demanding Job in Education
- 7:28 a.m. You are frantically answering emails from the district office that came in overnight. Turns out a local legislator might be visiting today and the Superintendent of Schools will be tagging along. They will keep you posted as to their arrival time.
- 7:42 a.m. You’re in the bus circle, high-fiving the kids as they scurry off to class. Wait. Wait. The bus driver wants to see you. She flags you down to complain that a student keeps moving his seat and she wants you to solve the issue once and for all. You assure her that you will be back after school to speak with the students and put an end to this nonsense.
- 7:51 a.m. Wait. Someone is calling on the radio. We have a runner. An assistant principal just spotted him leaving campus near the flag pole. You pick up the pace a bit since it’s nearly 8 a.m. and things are about to get real. You head toward the loading dock behind the cafeteria because that’s where the runner likes to hide out.
- 7:54 a.m. On the way, you see a teacher who has missed the past three days because her father died and you stop just long enough to say: “We are here for you.” You know she’s hurting and you stay long enough that she doesn’t notice that you are cutting short the conversation so you can cut off the runner at the pass.
- 7:59 a.m. You find the kid.
- 8:01 a.m. You cut through the cafeteria to thank the staff for their good work and they offer to make you up a breakfast burrito. You say yes, but wait…the radio sounds again. A parent is in the Front Office and she is not happy. Her child got a detention for doing something that he didn’t do or that some other kid did or that he did but so did several other kids in the class and they didn’t get a referral or that he did alone but that the teacher exaggerated.
- 8:04 a.m. The meeting with the parent is going as well as it can, though the mother might still write to the Governor if you don’t rip up the referral.
- 8:09 a.m. The Superintendent is here and your secretary is giving you the signal. You focus on the parent, not wanting her to know that you must wrap up this conversation in the next two minutes with a handshake.
- 8:11 a.m. Things went well. She is not going to the Governor after all, nor to the Superintendent or the press, but only because you met with her. You make a note to yourself to mentor the kid personally. You force a smile and your secretary escorts the parent out in a strategic manner so as not to see the Superintendent.
- 8:12 a.m. The Superintendent can’t stay long but wants you to welcome the state legislator and explain why the new school reform bill is bad for schools. You do that quickly and with a broad smile. The legislator says he has never worked in a school and hasn’t visited one since he was a student, but he assures you that he has a relative who’s a teacher so he knows what it’s like out there.
- 8:21 a.m. The first bell rings and the Superintendent makes his way out.
- 8:23 a.m. The meeting went so fast that you never had time to tell your boss that you are personally leading a math team training today on formative assessment and authentic feedback to kids. You plop into your office chair and your secretary hands you the breakfast burrito that was delivered 20 minutes ago. It’s cold now, as is the coffee you brought with you an hour ago. You stare at it and realize this might be the only time today that you get a chance to eat.
- 8:24 a.m. You take a cold bite, as the radio clangs once more. They’re calling for you again. Two students are arguing in the courtyard. You run to help out, as you have a thousand times before.
- 8:26 a.m. You’re in full stride when your cell phone rings. It’s your spouse calling, wanting to know if you’ve had any time yet this morning to think about tonight’s dinner.
- 8:27 a.m. The first hour of your morning is complete.
- Provided in celebration of Principal Appreciation Month as a tribute to the brave few who are daring enough to lead our schools in this age of increasing accountability and cynicism and dwindling respect and honor: “Congrats to our principals for a job well done, even if no one is sure exactly what it is that you do.”
- 8:29 a.m. Your spouse calls back. So sorry to bother you…As for dinner, how about burritos?
