Empowering Educators: Insights for Independent School Leaders

Welcome to Empowering Educators, your monthly source of inspiration, strategies, and insights designed specifically for the dedicated teachers, staff, and administrators of independent schools.

Authored by NCAIS's coach-in-residence, Michelle Bostian, each month we delve into pressing leadership topics, offering practical advice and thought-provoking perspectives to help you navigate the unique challenges of the independent school environment.

Whether you're leading a classroom, a department, or the entire school, our goal is to empower you with the knowledge and tools you need to foster a thriving educational community. Join us on this journey to elevate your leadership skills and make a lasting impact on your school.

Leadership and development consultants often emphasize the importance of recognizing strengths and understanding the consequences when these strengths are overdone. Let's apply this concept to America as a collective team. While our strengths—such as efficiency, innovation, and productivity—can drive significant progress, they can also lead to unintended consequences when taken to extremes.

American culture is characterized by a relentless drive for efficiency, innovation, and productivity. This focus is so ingrained that it’s often described as the driving force behind our work ethic. As my son's friend from Spain put it, "In America, you live to work. In my country, and across Europe, we work to live." A quick glance at global work statistics reveals that Americans work some of the highest hours annually. This drive for efficiency, while beneficial in many ways, contributes to a culture of intense polarization, particularly in politics. This polarization can be attributed to the very strength of efficiency that has been pushed to its limits.

Our pursuit of speed and productivity has many benefits, including increased wealth and advancement. However, this strength, when overdone, manifests in various aspects of our daily lives. One of the most prevalent ways it shows up is in our propensity for bias. We actively seek and even demand it, often without realizing it. On any given day, we might ask, "Is this spicy?", "Will that shot hurt?", or "Which car should I buy?" It is often more efficient to rely on the opinions and experiences of others than to sift through all the information ourselves.

Part of the reason we are so inclined to offer and seek opinions is the endorphin boost that accompanies it. When we provide an opinion or solve a problem for someone else, it triggers a small release of endorphins, making us feel good and reinforcing the behavior. This "efficiency" is not just about saving time; it also feeds our ego and provides a sense of immediate gratification. By giving an answer or offering advice, we experience a rush of satisfaction and validation, which makes the process of dispensing opinions almost addictive. It feels good to be the one with the answer, and it’s often more gratifying than allowing someone else to find their own solution.

While seeking bias can be helpful in some situations, such as when choosing an investment or evaluating a new product, it can also lead to problems. Bias has its place; it can expedite decision-making and provide reassurance. Yet, there are instances where it’s more beneficial to rely on our own judgment. Questions like, "How do I strike the right balance with technology for my family?", "What amount of research is necessary to choose the best dog breed for my family?", or "Which candidate should I vote for?" require deeper personal reflection and independent decision-making.

The issue isn’t about having or offering opinions; it’s about transparency and accountability. Brene Brown eloquently discusses this in her concept of “the story I’m making up.” She suggests that acknowledging and owning our biases can foster better relationships. By framing our perspectives as personal interpretations rather than universal truths, we can engage in more constructive and empathetic conversations.

For educators, the stakes are even higher. Teachers play a crucial role in shaping the minds and futures of their students. Their biases, whether acknowledged or not, can significantly impact students’ educational experiences and outcomes. It is especially challenging for educators to manage their biases because their deep-seated desire to guide students towards what they believe is the "right" answer can overshadow the importance of individual student needs and perspectives. Educators must recognize that their notion of the "right" answer may not always align with what is best for each student. Embracing this can help teachers create a more inclusive learning environment that respects and nurtures diverse viewpoints and encourages independent thought.

In summary, while our cultural drive for efficiency and productivity has its merits, when this strength becomes overdone, it can amplify our biases and contribute to societal divisions. The endorphin hit we get from giving our opinions feeds into this dynamic, making us more likely to dispense advice rather than wait for others to develop their own answers. For educators, managing these biases is crucial not only for personal growth but for fostering a learning environment that supports the diverse needs of students. Truly, we should all work to the standard expected of educators, resulting in stronger, more empathetic relationships and a society where we all seek well-considered conclusions.
The Mindtrap of Rightness: Cultivating Curiosity and Embracing Diverse Perspectives in Leadership

Mindtraps, or barriers to effective leadership, are explained well by Jennifer Garvey Berger in her book, "Unlocking Leadership Mindtraps." They are dangerous habits of thinking embedded in our minds, often dominating or guiding our decision-making. One of the mindtraps she references is “rightness.”

When you meet someone in the field of education (or coaching) and ask them who they are at their core, they often describe themselves as lifelong learners. They might share openly about their zest for discovery and insatiable interest in uncovering what they don’t know and the joy of shining the light for others to see as well. This passion point for educators—shining the light and watching others brighten with new knowledge—is central to their identity.

But beware of the attractive pull and self-gratification that comes with teaching. Don’t fall into the pit of rightness. When you shine the light, who determines what is to be revealed? To your eyes, it is a butterfly. To mine, a flying caterpillar. The true learning you might foster occurs when you give me the freedom and space to come to my own conclusions.

This sounds like the poetry and authentic intention of all teachers (and coaches) until we start talking about politics. That is when adults, in particular, fall prey to satisfying our rightness and feel compelled to convey our convictions of right and wrong.

It is natural. It is a habit of mind, as Berger writes, “It’s often a self-fulfilling prophecy. We’re sure we are right, and so we don’t notice (or we discard) any data that might suggest we are wrong.” She goes on to explain, “Our experience of rightness changes the way we treat other people.”

When you speak and evidence your bias through judgment about one person or another, one candidate or another, you are not only alienating another human being but also emphasizing your own limited ability to see a bigger picture. To let go of our rightness and allow for growth, we must humble ourselves, become aware of our humanness, and deeply trust that the learner before us will see reality—for them. We must trust that the perspectives, experiences, and discoveries of others might offer something to our own learning.

What if you listened with curious discovery to my description of the flying caterpillar and learned something new?

When you hear yourself saying, "I’m open-minded and everything, but I just can’t wrap my head around this," you are really saying, "I’m stuck in my rightness at the moment." It just means you need a bit more practice cultivating curiosity and imagining possibilities greater than you already know. It does not mean someone with a diverse political perspective is flawed or ignorant.

Standing under the light together, we can all lean into conversations of possibility and see what really lies before us.