Reflecting on Reflection

I retired as a superintendent in New York two years ago. My wife and I moved to another part of the state, along the border with Vermont, after the birth of our only grandchild. Soon thereafter, I accepted the opportunity to resume my school leadership career as a principal in Vermont, just across the border. This enabled me to collect my pension in New York and my salary in Vermont.

I enjoy the return to leadership at the building level, but composing blog entries has been a struggle recently. This dormant period happens to coincide with my acceptance of a the principal's position a year and a half ago. 

The educational alchemist blog originated when I assumed the role of a school superintendent in 2010. I began to pen entries in earnest, offering perspectives on rising issues or simple reflections on daily activities. Entries during that fertile writing period averaged at east four posts a week. There was ample time to indulge in thought. The words surged forth and my fingers danced along keyboard. I enjoyed the exercise of expressing thoughts because it prompted me to examine what I experienced and reconstruct it in words. That introspection nurtured growth.

This weekend was the first time in weeks and weeks that I found, or made, the time to write. Whenever I questioned myself about the absence of posts I mustered several possible reasons, ranging from indifference, laziness, to a general lack of opportunity. I arrived at what I imagine to be the culprit. It was hidden within me, perhaps because I didn't want to confront the matter, perhaps it was due to an apparent simplicity of explanation that might render the reason too easy for the reader to dismiss, particularly if they are a school superintendent. 

That's the point of this blog entry. The daily role of the superintendent usually affords the district leader more time to reflect. While the schedule is cluttered with meetings, many of them (i.e. policy development, strategic planning, budget forecasting...) are focused on a linger view into the future and that proverbial "big picture."  

I never felt that assuming the role of a superintendent endowed me with greater knowledge or insight than I possessed as a principal. Instead, I explained the difference as a matter of a hierarchy of perspectives. That is, when I was a teacher, my view was limited, like someone sitting in a room with a lone window that narrowed the view outside to that single frame. When I became a principal, I found that I now had windows on two sides of the four walls. Therefore, I was able to see things that elude someone restricted to one window. When I became a superintendent, I discovered windows on all four walls. I wasn't any smarter, I just had views (i.e. on personnel, negotiations, budgets...) that was unavailable to most others.

We tend to limit ourselves because the realities of our day obscure our vision and opportunity to reflect. The constant assault of people, needs, conflict... whether it's a teacher contending with 25 learners all day or a principal addressing issues that pop up unexpectedly, like discipline, prevents one from pausing to reflect on our actions and words. There is an expression I learned in Texas that explains the situation - "When you're up to your ass in alligators, it's hard to remember your job was to drain the pool." 

This is not to say that a superintendent is immune from the unanticipated issue or surprising development (and I fully understand from experience that the extent and reach of such problems are deeper and farther), but they usually have more control over their time. Their todays do not necessarily hold their tomorrows hostage. 

As a principal, my day too often seems like one long game of "whack-a-mole," the carnival game where something pops up and you task is to use a mallet to hit it back down - except that as soon as one pops up and you nit  it, another pops up, then another, and another... Perhaps a classier way to describe it is the Greek myth of Sisyphus, the character who spent his day rolling a large boulder up a hill, only to have it roll back down and prompt another perpetual trek up the hill - again and again and all over again. In short, there's little time to sit back and reflect on whats happened and how you responded and learned from the issue.

This entry is an apologetic explanation of my intermittent blog posts, while reflecting on the issues that have limited my writing, and offering a perspective on a difference between the role of a principal and that of a superintendent.