Walking in His Footsteps – How to be a Great Adminstrator According to My Dad

You could say I’ve gone into the family business. Both my parents were educators for their entire careers. My mom was a Junior High teacher who, even after she has retired, continues to supply teach because she has a passion for learning and a heart for kids- especially Junior High. To see my mom, Dee, at 61, still able to swoop into a classroom and mesmerize kids by reading aloud or tap away through a SMART Notebook file like nobody’s business, makes me so proud. My dad, Glen, however, spent most of his career in Leadership. He was a Teacher Effectiveness consultant early in his career, and then moved into school-based leadership. We have kind of a legacy thing going on here at Hardisty- he was Assistant Principal and Principal here in the late 90’s. Talk about following in his footsteps!

I have always been super close with my dad, but when I entered into administration 3 years ago, our relationship deepened. We had a common ground that no one else in our family quite shared (my 3 sisters are all in Health Services). From the minute I decided I wanted to go into Education, my dad has been my trusted advisor with everything from helping me to get a permanent position to questioning techniques and strategies for classroom engagement. When I took on a leadership position and my view of school and my own responsibility began to change, however, my dad was there to guide me into the next stage of my career as mentor.I do already have wonderful mentors in my life. I adore my current and former principals, and just naturally surround myself with people that share my passion for education and leadership. But, there is something about our father-daughter relationship that allows for a rawness and honesty that a collegial relationship stops short of. When dealing with tough questions or problems, people tend to tell you what they would do in that situation. Having different perspectives is always valuable, but sometimes the solution that would be right for someone else just doesn’t suit me. The thing my dad does that no one else can is know my heart so well that he can take the problem, separate himself from solving it for me, and help me find a solution that is mine, that is me, and that I will ultimately be successful & confident implementing.

While professional reading has its place and I very much enjoy the resources put out through my PLN, when I look back at the defining moments in my career as an educator and administrator, my dad was the one who helped crystallize my moments of deep learning.

Lessons in Being an Administrator – From My Dad

You are stronger are than they are.

My dad first said this to me when I called him and mom in tears during my 1st student teaching round. I had planned an interactive review lesson that I was so excited about- and it went sideways. Badly. I was so hurt by how the kids behaved and took it as such a personal failure that they didn’t listen to me when I had worked so hard to do something nice for them. I was embarrassed in front of my cooperating teacher and I didn’t want to go back the next day. As I sobbed, my dad said those very words, “You are stronger than they are. They need you to be in control. Start over tomorrow. You can do it.” With tears still running down my face, I planned what I would do differently the next day. I went on to have a flawless rest of my practicum. As an administrator, this lesson still resonates on so many different levels. Whether its managing a classroom, dealing with chronic discipline problems, or even a colleague you aren’t seeing eye to eye with,in order to change their behaviour, sometimes its yours that has to change first. You have to be both strong and humble enough to be the one to change first.

Keep the main thing the main thing.

This came up when I first tried my hand at scheduling a K-9 timetable. In October. There were so many messages flying around me: ” No doubles! We should only have options in the afternoon! The should only be PE in the afternoon! You can’t have music 1st thing in the morning! Elementary teachers should only teach elementary and jr high should stick with junior high! You can’t have classes share a gym!” I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make everyone happy because I couldn’t make all the requests work with each other. My dad, who is a master scheduler and showed me how to be super good and fast at it, took one look at what i was trying to da and said, “This is where you become an administrator.You need to separate what is good for individuals and look at what is the right thing for kids and for the good of the whole school.” What is best for kids’ learning is my North Star, the “Main Thing” that helps me make decisions in the face of conflict.

Everything is scary the first time. But after that, you know what to do next time and it won’t be scary.

It seems like pretty straightforward advice, right? I was so scared the first time I called a parent to tell her I was suspending her kid. I had no clue if she was going to yell, scream, tell me I was an idiot, cry, or say thank you. I had everything written out, the file spread out in front of me so I could refer to it. It actually went ok. And so did the next one, and the next one. Sooner or later, I did catch the one where I got an earful, but I wasn’t afraid to make that call and I wasn’t afraid to stand my ground.

This particular piece of advice is something I put into play almost every day. Things that even a year ago seemed like big things that I was nervous about are now just things I do. Expulsions, Attendance Board, meetings with our Assistant Superintendent, dealing with Child Services, police, angry parents, protestors on the school lawn, etc. And now I am looking for things I haven’t done yet and talking with my principal so that he can help me with opportunities to get that exposure. The more “scary” things I knock off my list, the more I am ready to take on the next challenge. If I ever do become a principal, I’m going to need to know how to do a lot of things with no one there to catch me. Better try and get as many experiences under my belt as I can so that can be a confident and capable leader.

Your heart will break for kids, and it should. It means you care, and it means you will do the right thing for them.

The first 6 weeks I spent as an Assistant Principal, I was overwhelmed by the emotional need I was exposed to in my new position. Kids and parents gravitated to me for answers and help in areas I had no training or experience. As children confided their problems or parents sobbed on the phone asking me for advice, I felt like the more I tried to help, the more crisis i found. The burden of knowledge was breaking my heart and consuming my thoughts. I can’t do it! I can’t fix it all! I don’t know how. No one told me there was this much hurt. As I drove home from work one day, the tears started falling and they just wouldn’t stop. I called my dad to see if it ever stops hurting. I think may be I wanted to hear that it was just because I was new, or that I would become numb, or that it was unusual there were so many problems. Instead, my Daddy told me the truth.

In the most sympathetic and gentle way possible, the voice of experience revealed the bitter reality of what I signed up for. “I know its hard. There are things that you will see and hear that will make you sick or angry or feel incredibly sorry for a kid or their family.You will want to take them home so you can protect them and show them something better. Child Services will frustrate you. Parents will fight you.”

Well, yeah. I had already experienced this and that’s why I was crying. Great. It doesn’t get better, does it? Am I stupid for letting myself get sucked into other people’s lives? Am I a sucker for caring THIS MUCH? And then, “Your heart will never stop hurting for them, Tara, but what will happen is that you will start knowing what to do to help them. You will feel sorry for them, but you will stop feeling helpless. Sometimes you are the only one who can stand up for them. They may not realize until years later what you did for them, but they will know that you cared. You mustn’t ever become hardened to what happens to kids.”

Fast forward to last week. After a day of calls to Child Services, an afternoon with a Social Worker, and making plans with kids to keep them safe and who to call for help if they needed it over the weekend, I was on my way out the door feeling I had done everything I possibly could. A teacher who had been involved with the kids in these situations asked me how the day went I looked at her and before I could get the words out, I broke. We both broke. She emailed me later and asked, “Does it ever get easier?” I had the answer to this one. Thanks, Daddy.

In closing…

Some people have said that my dad helped get me where I am today, and that I had an unfair advantage having my dad as a principal. Damn straight. I ask him a zillion questions about leadership and school, and hiring, and teaching, and what to do in sticky situations ALL the time. I have unrestricted access to someone who can help me get better as an educator, a leader, a building manager, as a human being. Wouldn’t I be silly if I DIDN’T try to learn as much as I could and take advantage of the resources available to me?

Everything “school” is the passion I share with my dad. While some people can be handed a family business, education isn’t one of those kind of jobs. You have to walk willingly into this profession, and again when you take on a leadership role. I am so grateful to my dad that he is walking with me every step of the way.

I love you, Daddy. You have always been one of my best friends, and you always will be. I love when I meet people from other schools, and they know who I am because they know and respect you. I love how you still have a heart for kids, and volunteer whenever we need help at school. I love no matter how scared I am to do something, you have this unwavering belief that I will knock it out of the park. I love that you can see in me all the strength and potential I have yet to see in myself. You have never kept me wondering if you were proud of me. I hope you know that I am proud of you, and so very proud to be Glen Haug’s daughter.