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This page uses current thinking to reflect on the past. The material below was originally published by The National School Public Relations Association on the occasion of its 75th anniversary.
Things I now see differently
(and some things I now see for the first time)
Dr. William J. Banach
On most days, people head into
workplaces where they are confronted by a daily dose of challenges and
opportunities—one event after another.
Some are urgent; most are mundane.
But all of them keep us busy—too busy, in fact, to look around, make
observations, and think.
And, that is why we are all more
reactive than proactive. We simply don’t
see a lot of opportunities and threats, and we don’t reflect on what we are
doing because we’re too busy to look around, make observations, and think. As a result we often spend more time cleaning
up messes than capitalizing on opportunities.
Another downside of not observing
and reflecting on our thoughts is that it takes us longer to catch on. The fact that something is different or that something
didn’t go as expected usually dawns on us over time. On those occasions when it doesn’t dawn on
us, we hope that there is a benevolent soul willing to take us aside and explain
what happened. But, whether we eventually
figure out what is going on or someone has to explain it to us, our response is
usually the same: “Now I get it!”
This exclamation is usually followed
by a question: “Why didn’t someone tell
me this sooner?”
So, looking back, here are some
things that I now see differently and some things that I now see for the first
time.
My mentor told me that the
perception really is the reality,
that it is usually the little things that blind-side you, that it is impossible
to please all the people, that curriculum development is not the first priority
if buses are late and lunches are bad, and that there are some nasty people out
there. His cautions and insights proved
invaluable, and they helped me make “looking around” a lifetime habit.
His advice also caused me to wonder
why so much of formal education is not concerned with the little things that
can make all the difference. There are a
host of little things that should be discussed in the safety of a college
classroom. They should not be things
that you have to discover while tiptoeing through the work day.
Now
I get it!
Most
people don’t know what they’re trying to do. That’s pretty
direct. In his book William Ian Miller
says we are all “faking it” much more than anyone would care to admit. That may be a little more tactful, but not
much.
Look around. Many elementary teachers we’re never taught
how children learn to read or how to teach students to read. These teachers are in our classrooms, faking
it. Many are figuring it out as they
go. Sooner or later they will have an
insight or a friend who will tell them.
Then they’ll say, “Now I get
it!”
Sit with a principal or curriculum
director or any other administrator. Ask
them, “What are you trying to do here?” Most
have difficulty articulating an answer.
Many simply don’t know.
I once met with a group of
accreditation chairs. All of them raised
their hands when I asked how many were preparing a questionnaire to assess
parent opinion. Then I followed with,
“How many of you would say that you know what you are doing?” No hands.
When people can articulate a
mission, vision, and goals, they tend to know what they’re trying to do. Unfortunately, most people either don’t have
a mission, a vision, and goals or they can’t articulate them. What these people clearly communicate is that
they don’t know what they’re trying to do.
It’s
tough getting your act together. It’s
tougher keeping your act together. The nature of change may be the culprit in
both cases.
The nature of change has changed. Change is frequently more radical and less
linear. Further, most change that affects us is
generated by external forces. One
consequence of these factors is that the implications of many changes are difficult
to predict. This makes it tough to get
your act together unless you have a process through which you scan the
environment for changes and issues that have potential for impacting your
school.
And, unless you have a have a
planning process that is flexible enough to accommodate new discoveries,
enhanced techniques, or unconventional points of view, keeping your act
together is impossible (although you can probably fake it for a month or two!).
Most
educational decisions aren’t. Student enrollment in Nosedive School
District is dropping and—because state aid is tied to enrollment—the loss of
students is also draining the budget.
Much of the enrollment decline is happening because parents of
The decision to offer full-day
kindergarten wasn’t an “educational decision.”
It was an economic decision.
Why does a school district select an
architectural firm? Is it because the firm
can design a school that enhances the educational program? Or, is the firm selected because—all things
being equal —it generously wined and dined school board members?
Does the textbook that’s being
recommended for adoption best meet the educational needs of students, or is it
the textbook that has been diluted by special interest groups (aka textbook
censors) operating at the state level and, hence, is politically safe?
Think twice when people tell you
that they are making an educational decision.
It’s more likely to be an economic, political, or marketing decision.
Sometimes
people look but they don’t see; sometimes they listen but they don’t hear.
“How do you pronounce your name, Dr.
Banach?”
“It’s BAH-nik, like in bubonic
plague.”
Stepping to the podium my host
begins: “Now I’d like to introduce Dr.
William BAN-ich.”
There is research which suggests
that what people like to hear most is their name, properly pronounced. If that’s true, you should make sure that you
listen and hear (or make sure that
the people you introduce have names like Smith and Jones).
Here’s another example of not
hearing: Not long ago we conducted a
community-wide survey in a relatively large suburban school district. Included in the questionnaire was this
free-response question: If you could change one thing in the school
district, what one thing would you change?
The most frequent response was, “Get rid of the new report card.”
In grades 1-6 the school district
had replaced a traditional ABC report card with a four-page 11 by 17,
pillowcase-size document. The ABCs were
replaced by P (performing), A (achieving), and N (not achieving).
Parents disliked the new reporting
document because it was too complex and, more importantly, it deprived them of
a familiar referent, As and Bs and Cs.
How did the school district respond
to the survey result? In the words of
the curriculum director, “We had a committee work on this new report card for
over a year and we’ll be damned if we’re going to scrap it after all the work
that’s gone into it.”
This is listening but not
hearing. It’s also stupidity.
You
are compared to the best.
Much has been said about customer
service in recent years. Most of it
warrants our attention.
Our world is one of options, and
people typically choose the option that’s best for them. Today people “shop schools,” weighing all
their options before deciding where to send their children. Often, the factor that cements their decision
is how they were greeted and treated. If
you can’t clearly differentiate your school on the basis of price or program,
you had better attend to customer service.
(Even if you can differentiate your school on other attributes, you had
better attend to customer service!)
You have probably heard someone say
something like this: “The price was a
little lower at A, but the people were a lot nicer at B.” Do you think A or B got the business?
The best customer service that we
can recall becomes the standard by which we judge all others. People think about the best customer service
that they have received (or heard about) and measure every other option against
it.
When I walk into a school, I compare
the reception that I receive with reception that I receive at Disney
World. There everyone smiles and seems
genuinely interested in my well-being.
Disney World makes people feel special– like guests (which is what they
call them).
When I ask for something, I compare
the response that I get to the way that I am treated at Nordstrom’s. There, it seems, the sales people can’t do
enough to address my needs. They even
send you thank you cards a few days after you shop.
Think about the way the people in
your school greet people and address their needs. Compare how you perform to the best, today’s
benchmark for customer service.
It’s hard to see the big picture. Everyone talks about the importance of seeing
“the big picture.” In fact, odds are pretty
good that you have told someone that “We can’t lose sight of the big picture”
or “It’s important to think about the big picture.”
Superintendents and principals often
say that their staff doesn’t see the big picture. (In fact, many superintendents and principals
readily admit that they don’t see the
big picture.)
Most people don’t see the big
picture because they haven’t stepped back from the urgencies of the moment or
their daily assignments to think about it.
If you want to see the big picture, you’ll have to make a conscious
effort to look for it. If you want your
staff to see the big picture, you’ll have to help them make the same conscious
effort. Then you’ll have to spend time
discussing what you see. (Remember, if
you look, make sure you see!)
Here’s another thought related to
the big picture: Maybe there is no such
thing. Instead of a big picture, maybe
there is a big story that is
continually unfolding, verse by verse.
If that’s the case, then we should be listening instead of looking. And, we should make sure that we’re hearing
what is being said.
You
can’t build, fix, or change a system one piece at a time. A
system is a function of the interdependence of its parts. Change one part and you affect another (or
others). In the school business (and in
the private sector, too!) we routinely ignore this basic tenet of systems
theory.
When the test scores are low in
reading, we tend to focus on our reading program without regard to the
system. We pull the reading program out
of the system, we study it, we make changes, and then we reinsert the reading program
back into the system. We too frequently
do this without regard to the implications for professional development, the
budget, and the integration of curriculum components, to name three other parts
of the system.
Architects provide an interesting
model here. They don’t design houses one
room at a time. Rather, they look at the
entire system (the big picture!) as they make decisions about room size,
location, traffic patterns, flooring, and so forth.
If you want to build, fix, or change
a system, think systemically. Be an
architect. Be concerned about the
interaction of the parts of the system.
You may find that your reading scores are low not because reading
instruction is at fault, but because students don’t have enough time to learn
what is being taught.
Money
talks. Quick, name the top five school districts in
your state. Use any criteria that you
want to use.
How many of these five school
districts are in impoverished communities?
Odds are none of them are.
Better communities–economically
speaking–build better schools (which, in turn, build even better
communities). Money talks.
Yet, people often contend that you
can do more for less. This is true to a
point. Increased efficiencies are
possible in every organization, and staff can work smarter and harder. But there comes a point where less means
less.
If funding is cut, you might be able
to adjust by improving the way a service is delivered or by asking staff to
“give another 10%.” But by the time all
services are operating a maximum efficiency, staff will tire of giving
110%. Then the slide begins.
If it’s important–and education is
important!–it should be funded. Schools
that depend on bake sales, salmon derbies, 50-50 raffles, golf outings, selling
stadium naming rights, and other fund-raising schemes don’t do as well as
schools that are fully funded. The
reason: money talks.
Most
change is first social, then political, and finally economic.
Take air bags in cars. The
societal problem is that lots of people get killed in car crashes. The political solution is to install air
bags. But the economic reality is
expressed by this question: Who will pay the cost?
While the answer to this question was
being debated, two higher-end auto manufacturers attempted to create a
“marketing edge” by offering air bags as standard equipment. People bought them and liked them. The news media carried stories about these air
bag-equipped cars saving lives. This
tipped the equation. Soon air bags were
available in all cars. (Incidentally,
the answer to the economic question–Who will pay the cost?–is “you.” You wanted air bags and your money talked.)
Complicated
things break down. Sometimes people look at the options and
“special features” on consumer products and say, “There’s just one more thing
that can go wrong.” While this sounds
pessimistic, it is frequently true–the more complicated things are, the more
likely something will go wrong.
Think about your strategic
plan. If it is a three-to-five year plan
with hundreds of people involved and has more than five goals with more than
five objectives each, it’s likely to collapse of its own weight.
We tend to take good ideas (like
strategic planning) and make them too complicated. When we do that, the odds of something going
wrong escalate at the same rate as the odds of nothing happening as a result of
your planning. Simple things–both
process and product–are best.
Doing
more can mean doing less. If you really get your act together, you can
actually generate more output with less input.
Take planning. Some principals
believe that a unique mission statement, vision statement, and goals are needed
for school improvement initiatives, strategic planning, accreditation, state
accountability measures, and educational marketing. Not so.
If the vision of your school is to help all students achieve academic
success, why is something different needed for school improvement,
strategic planning, or any other purpose?
The key here is having a process and
a big picture perspective. If you have
an operating process, you can do a lot of things once and then recycle your
work to accommodate other initiatives or requirements. Of course, you’ll have to look at the big
picture and figure out how all the pieces go together.
What
gets tested really does matter. If pay, performance, and reputation are
determined by reading and math test scores, how much time will a school staff
spend on the fine arts?
School people are not stupid. If a state’s accountability program focuses
on two or three subjects, those subjects will receive inordinate
attention. For example, if the high
stakes game is to have the highest possible scores in reading, math, and
science, one can expect that reading, math, and science programs will be
analyzed and improved. If reading, math,
and science scores are the ones that will be reported by the news media, these
are the subject areas where there will be more professional development and
more time on task.
Unfortunately, when the focus is on
one, two, or three subjects, all other subjects receive less attention. In fact, sometimes subjects are dropped from
the curriculum because they aren’t tested and–in the eyes of some– “don’t
really matter.”
The problem, of course, is that many
of the things that don’t get tested do
matter. They are the subjects and
programs that often round out an education and produce a more knowledgeable
citizenry.
Perhaps we should identify the
essential ingredients of a quality educational program and treat all the
related subjects as if they’ll be tested.
Then what and how we teach would be what really matters.
Clueless
people don’t provide meaningful input. Under the banner of community engagement,
educators often seek professional advice from people who don’t have a clue.
I once worked with one of the
country’s leading career-technical centers.
The top two administrators at the center were retiring, and it seemed
like a good time to ask primary clients–the business people in the community–what
the career-tech center should look like a decade down the road.
We had a series of early morning
meetings during which we shared demographics, job trend information, social
forecasts, and a host of other data.
Then came the defining moment. We
said to the business people, “Given that we have a great career-tech center,
given that we want to keep ahead of the curve, and given all the information
that we have presented to you, what do you think the career-tech center should
look like in five or ten years?” The
response: “It really doesn’t matter to
us as long as your graduates are on time for work.”
We had spent thousands of dollars in
staff time working with the business community, and the return on the
investment was near zero. Why? Because we made a mistake. We should have presented the background
information that we did and then we should have said, “Given all this, here’s
what we think the career-tech center should look like in 5-10 years. Take a look at our thinking and help us
strengthen it.”
We should have realized that the
business people considered us to be the experts in curriculum and education
design. We should have presented our
thinking and engaged the business community to strengthen it. Then they could have reacted to our
educational proposal from their business point of view.
As a result of this experience, I
have a new planning premise: Never go to
people with a “blank sheet of paper.”
They might leave it blank (or they might put something on it that you can’t
do or shouldn’t do).
Everybody is busy.
“I can’t help you with that. I
already have too much to do.”
“I can’t handle another committee
assignment. There isn’t a spare minute
in my day.”
These are common refrains in today’s
work environment. Yet, there are always
people who can “find time.” Why is it
that some people are willing to take on a new assignment or work on a challenge
when everyone else is busy?
The answer to the question seems to
be unique to every individual. Hence, I’ve
come to believe that personal values drive all behavior all the time. People do what they do (or don’t do what they
don’t do) because they have something to gain (or lose) personally. This means that you have to match what you
want done with those who are interested in what you want done because people
find time for what they value… personally.
On
a good day we give communication great lip service. Management
guru Peter Drucker said, “Communication is the essence of organization.”
Everyone talks about the importance
of good communication. Administrators
vow to do more listening. Teachers say
they are going to improve the way they dialogue with parents. School board candidates promise to improve
communication if they are elected. And,
everyone cringes when they’re accused of precipitating a “communication
breakdown.”
Why is so much educational communication
unplanned and reactionary? Why is so
much communication little more than posting notices on a bulletin board (or in
a school newsletter)? Why is so little
attention given to the most important part of communication, listening?
I believe many educators simply
don’t know what good communication is.
Many more don’t know how to develop an effective, two-way communication
plan. And, few are willing to invest the
money and the energy that it takes to support a good communication program.
And, so, while we continuously talk
about the importance of communication, we usually give it little more than lip
service.
When
it comes to communication, more of the right thing is a good thing.
We’ve gotten better at print communication. We are working diligently to harness the
power of electronic communication. These
are good things and we should continue forging forward.
At the same time we know that relevant
information delivered one-on-one, face-to-face, is the right thing to do. We know that information delivered in this
manner has the most impact and is most likely to be understood. And, we know
that we should be doing more of this good thing. (Why do you think marketing people call the ideal
market “the market of one”?)
The key here is relevant information. What
we frequently fail to realize is that all messages have to get past an
intriguing device that all humans possess.
I call it the crap detector, and I think it is located just above the
pit of the stomach. This is the device
that listeners use to block or negate messages that are not believable.
Messages that promise eternal youth
tend to get snagged by the crap detector.
People say, “That’s just a bunch of crap!” The same is true for messages about products
which claim to help you lose 100 pounds in ten days, that promise to eliminate
cellulite deposits with a cream, or that tout used car dealers who care about
you. “Crap!” you say.
When we proclaim that our school is
the best in the state, the message is snagged by the crap detector. People know that only one school can be best
in the state and, so, they think: “There’s
no way that we are number one. That’s a
bunch of crap. We could be in the top
ten, but I know that we are not number one.”
Personal communication, messages
relevant to the receiver, and one-on-one listening are the right things. It would be a good thing if we could do more
of them.
Modeling
bad behavior is not good. Classroom teachers have always believed that
you have to model the behavior that you expect.
This is an important lesson for everyone in education.
School boards encourage and support
superintendents who install planning processes that result in goals for the
school district, the schools, and the staff.
But rarely do school boards set goals for themselves. This is modeling bad behavior. It leads people to ask: “If goals are good for everybody, why doesn’t
the school board have goals?”
When a principal says that a
district initiative is mundane and irrelevant or that a planning process is
“just more paperwork that won’t make a difference,” that’s modeling bad
behavior. Staff members aren’t motivated
by unmotivated leaders.
In the education business everyone
should be modeling something. For
example, the secretary should model efficiency, teachers should model life-long
learning, the principal should model effective leadership, the superintendent
should model enthusiasm, and the school board should model
professionalism. If the people in your
schools are not doing these things, they are probably modeling bad behavior.
If
it smells, pretty soon it will stink. We can learn some good and bad things from
business people. For the past several
years the public has been treated to news media accounts of corporate
wrong-doing. Pay-backs, personal greed, conflicts
of interest, and a host of illegal activities by one or a few people have
damaged or destroyed many businesses (and left shareholders penniless!). Looking back, it’s apparent that many of the
questionable activities smelled bad early on.
Over time, smelly things get worse, and eventually they really
stink. That’s when prosecutors knock on
the door.
I like to believe that most
educators are above such behavior. Yet,
if you sniff around, you might smell something.
If you do, fix it before it stinks.
(An old cliché proclaims that people sometimes make “a big stink over
nothing.” It is important to remember
that you don’t have to swindle millions to get people’s noses “bent out of
shape.” The littlest smell can turn into
the biggest stink!)
Effective
leaders help the inside see the outside. Cosmopolites are
people who venture between the system and its environment. They bring back information about “the
outside.”
If so much of the change that we
face today is generated by external forces, it makes good sense to attend to
the outside. Effective leaders do
this. They help those who don’t have
opportunities to venture beyond the system understand what is happening in the
external world and how it is likely to affect them. That helps the entire system evolve to higher
levels.
People
are your most valuable asset.
Many companies say this in their annual reports, only to treat their
employees like disposable parts or expendable resources.
In a knowledge-based economy,
competitive advantage comes from the brainpower people apply. It’s not as tangible an asset as a machine
bolted to the factory floor, but it is likely more valuable.
The same is true in schools. Staff salaries typically make up more than
90% of a school district’s budget. In
schools, people are programs; that is, you can’t have a program without
people. And, where do good teaching,
positive attitudes, and good customer relations come from? People.
Effective leaders invest in their
people. They provide them with
professional development opportunities.
They listen to them. And they seek
and support their ideas. The reason they
commit to people is pretty simple: You
can’t have an effective school if you have ineffective people.
Education
has customers. School people don’t like the word
“customer.” That aside, schools do have customers–lots of them.
Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary
defines a customer as someone that purchases a commodity or service or
patronizes an organization or uses its services.
This definition makes parents
customers. In most communities they can
send their children to your school or opt for a host of other educational options,
ranging from private and parochial schools to cyber-charters and
self-instruction. When people have the
freedom to purchase or use services, they are customers. The case for parents as customers is
completely closed when parents can use their money (or someone else’s money) to
send their children where ever they want for schooling.
Students are customers, too. And so are the business people who employ the
graduates of your career-technical program.
If you haven’t thought about
customer service, you should. The way
people (customers!) are treated determines what they think, and what they think
determines what they say… and what they say creates perceptions. (All this aside, it never hurts to be nice…
especially to a customer!)
The
perception is the reality.
What people think is often more important than what they know. People may know that your graduation rate is
good, but they may think that the staff is uncommitted and that their children dislike
school. What’s the reality in this
scenario? Everything! The graduate rate is good, the staff is
uncommitted, and children dislike school.
If people think that your school is
good, it’s good. Conversely, if they
think that your school is bad, it’s bad.
Schools and school people send out
signals continuously. Some signals
indicate good maintenance and solid leadership while others communicate noxious
messages such as, “We are the educational professionals, we know best, and we
shouldn’t be questioned.” These signals,
individually and collectively, shape perceptions.
Learn how to read the signals and
you’ll have insights into the perceptions.
Then you’ll know what’s really going on.
Education
is political; most educators aren’t. It’s not unreasonable to say that most
educational decisions are legislatively driven (and many are judicially defined
and enforced). Legislators determine the
amount of the state aid payout, when students must have certain immunizations,
that school buses must be painted “national school bus chrome” (the official color
of a school bus), which subjects are tested, who will be accountable for what,
and hundreds of other items.
Most educators don’t understand the
political process that affects their work every day. (It doesn’t work the way that we teach it in
our schools!) They don’t understand that
a resolution from 200 superintendents doesn’t carry as much weight as a few
telephone calls between two or three influential people. Nor do they appreciate the power of 5,000 upset
parents standing on the capitol steps.
As a result, most educators continually find themselves reacting to
legislative initiatives instead of proactively influencing them.
Education’s lobbyists face the same
problem as many legislators. Outside
major city school systems, most educational lobbying is done regionally or at
the state level. In both cases,
lobbyists try to represent the all the positions in their service area. This is usually fruitless because what is
good for one district may be bad for another.
So, trade-offs are made and legislation is adjusted to do the least
damage possible to the fewest number of schools. Instead of a rising tide that raises all
boats, schools end up in white-water turbulence that damages many, sinks some,
and allows a few to find safe haven.
The key here is education. At the school level make sure that your
elected officials know what you are trying to do (your vision) and what
legislation will help (or hurt) you.
Once you do that, you should support whatever regional and state
lobbying initiatives that you can and brace yourself to accommodate those that
you can’t.
Facts
and logic don’t sell anything. Chevy says its trucks are built “like a rock”
while the competition proclaims that its trucks are “built Ford tough.” There are not any facts here. And, it defies reasonable logic that you
would need a truck built like a rock to pick up a sheet of plywood from a
lumber yard. These messages are designed
to evoke an emotional response. They
contain few, if any, facts and logic-based propositions.
Most advertisers address emotions
because people think with their hearts and their stomachs, not their
heads. (If you thought with your head,
you wouldn’t own all the junk that you own!)
Research indicates that most people
don’t do a lot of thinking before they make decisions. They tend to make emotional decisions and
consciously justify them after the fact.
That’s why you tend to read ads for products that you already own–to justify
your purchase decisions.
In the school business we are often
tempted “to give people all the facts” and “to let them make up their own
minds.” There are two mistakes
here. First, people don’t want to be
burdened by the facts, even though they keep saying, “Give me the facts… just
the facts.” Second, there are so many
choices in today’s marketplace that people don’t want to make any more choices.
Their favored state would be to face no
choices. Their second favorite state
would be to receive help making choices.
People use emotions to move from the
agony of indecision to a less painful state.
We should recognize this by shifting the focus of our communication from
the square footage of the new science lab to the quality of the learning
environment that we have created. We
should show students achieving instead of overwhelming parents with test score
pie charts and statistics. In short, we
should help people understand education’s story instead of working so hard to
force-feed them facts and logic.
If
you wait for someone to tell you what to do, someone will.
While you wait for direction, you are creating a vacuum. Systems–like Mother Nature–abhor a
vacuum. When vacuums exist, they get
filled. When this happens it usually
means that someone is shaping your
professional destiny. You may also find
someone questioning your capacity to exercise leadership or “get the ball
rolling.”
Don’t just sit there. Do something.
Answers
describe the present. Questions define
the future. This suggests that we should be more
inquisitive.
When we ask questions, we begin
shaping our future. When we invite
people to join us, we gain ideas that we can use to build consensus for a
preferred tomorrow. That, in turn, will
make it easier to form coalitions that can turn community visions into
realities.
Psychologists, it seems, always
answer a question with a question.
(Q: “Is it okay to feel this
way?” A:
“What do you think?”) Maybe psychologists have discovered something
that we should adapt for our use.
(Q: “How can we improve our
communication with you?” A: “What are some ideas for improving
communication that haven’t worked in the past?”)
Why not present citizens with a
variety of educational scenarios? Then,
why not conduct a series of “Future Forums” in environments that are conducive
to thinking?
Start your “Future Forums” with some
facts and forecasts. Present your take
on the opportunities and challenges that change presents. Then ask people to raise questions about what
they have heard and what they are thinking.
Here are a dozen questions to get
things started:
1. What kind of education do we want for our
children?
2. Why is school less fun than it used to be?
3. How can technology leverage the capacity of
teachers?
4. What would spur staff creativity, innovation,
and risk-taking?
5. Is anyone in the public or private sectors
delivering education more effectively than we are?
6. Why does school have to start so early in the
morning?
7. Why can’t our school offer some classes
on-line?
8. Is the time that we invest in professional development making a difference?
9. What would be a desirable addition to the
educational program?
10.
What educational program or service should be phased out?
11.
What are our educational priorities?
12.
Do we have a vision for our school?
Answer these questions and you’ll be
defining your future. Best of all, you
won’t be doing it alone.
Keep your primary focus
forward
There are other observations that
could be added to our list. In fact, you
probably thought about some of your own while reading. And, that’s as it should be. You must keep observing and thinking continuously.
A word of caution here: Some people don’t focus on the future because
they are too busy looking in the rear view mirror. They are most concerned about who and what is
behind them. They enjoy what used to be
and the status quo.
But there is a difference between
being reflective and being paranoid.
Paranoid people keep looking “over their shoulder.” They advance toward an uncertain future by
running from a threatening past.
Reflective people make observations
and think about the implications of what they see. They use the past much as a race car driver
uses a rear view mirror. Traveling at triple-digit
speeds, race car drivers need a 360-degree view of their position. They need to glance in the mirror to assess
what’s behind them that might affect the outcome of the race. But their primary focus has to be forward… on
something defined before the start of the race.
And that, of course, is the finish line.