A continuation of Desert Island.
Previously, I discussed my affinity for Lost and seven desert island archetypes (Helpless, Complainer, Instantly Killed, Loner, Sidekick, Lemming, and Leader). I would like to explore how those archetypes crossover to education.
Helpless
While completing my administrative internship, my mentor principal insisted that I was explicit when communicating with staff. At the time, I felt the additional details were unnecessary and teachers could intuit the expectations. When I shared these thoughts with my mentor, she would simply mime a spoon going to her mouth, symbolizing that information needed to be spoon fed to teachers.
In my eight years as a principal, I’ve changed the metaphor from spoon feeding to hooking up to an IV drip, specifically because of the Helpless. It takes the Helpless years to adopt and implement mundane aspects of teaching. Taking attendance, accessing the teacher evaluation system, navigating classroom technology, bringing classroom data to Professional Learning Community (PLC) meetings, and other daily responsibilities can be an unscalable mountain – one that can only be summited with the aid of a sherpa (another teacher, an administrator, a student, etc.).
In education, initiatives change on a whim, technology gets added/removed, a new year brings new students and parents, and teachers are significantly more transient than thirty years ago. Knowing that the Helpless struggle even with the routine and recurring, throw in these variables and you might as well be asking them to provide principals with daily lesson plans written in Akkadian.
Complainer
I would take ten Helpless over one Complainer. Helpless need a little (a lot) of support with new school initiatives. Complainers list everything wrong with the initiative to you, anyone else who will listen, and even to people who don’t want to listen. Having an audience feeds Complainers, which makes them a lot like viruses. They spread their complaints across a building hoping to infect others, turning them into Complainer comrades.
Complainers have the unique ability to find fault in everything. I often joke that if you gave a Complainer $100 for no reason and then came back to them ten minutes later saying it was a mistake and could only be $95, they would complain about having to make change.
There is no correlation between bad teaching and complaining, which makes Complainers very dangerous. A strong veteran teacher who grows students, could be a school’s biggest Complainer. And, because of their teaching acumen, staff will listen to their rants.
Sometimes a principal needs to make the tough decision to cut ties with a Complainer, even when the Complainer is getting results. It’s akin to trading a valuable player in sports because he is a locker room problem.
Instantly Killed
All educators have been a part of a conversation that started with, “Remember that teacher…” or “What was the name of that instructional assistant?” Those are both referring to the Instantly Killed. They’re not around long enough to have any meaningful impact on a school, or for you to remember their name.
Most Instantly Killed are second career educators, stretch hires (sometimes you just need a body), or age extreme hires (really young or really seasoned). Second career educators don’t fully comprehend the burden of teaching. Stretch hires are shady from the get go, and leave under mysterious circumstances (usually, makes for the most entertaining stories). Super young hires haven’t made up their mind about what they want to do, so when greener pastures present themselves, they’re off. Similar to second career educators, seasoned hires aren’t prepared for the demands (physical and emotional) of education.
Like Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers or Cleveland Brown quarterbacks, the Instantly Killed are never here to stay.
Loner
Education is cyclical. What’s in today, is out tomorrow, and back again in five years. Loners have been around long enough to experience multiple cycles. Thus, they never get too high or too low when a new initiative arrives at their classroom door. They parse out anything of value and utilize their experience and expertise to fill in the gaps. Over many years, the Loner has streamlined this process, making it cumbersome for them to work with others. Others simply slow the Loner down.
A Loner doesn’t know if a new teammate is going to be an Instantly Killed, Complainer, or Helpless. Why put in the time and effort to support a colleague who will be gone in six months (Instantly Killed)? Why explain the benefits of a program to a colleague who will always look for its flaws (Complainer)? Why short change your own students because your time is wasted reexplaining the plan to a colleague (Helpless)?
Administration would love to utilize a Loner’s talent by making them a mentor or having their instruction observed by struggling teachers. But, Loners are reluctant to venture into these unsafe waters. Maybe the only hope is for a Loner to recognize a future Loner, and take them under their wing to show them how to avoid all the nonsense they’re destined to deal with.
Sidekick
Based on the context of the Desert Island post, a sidekick attaches themselves to the principal (if the principal falls into the Leader archetype [they may not]). On the island, we are unsure if the Sidekick has a mind of their own or are only a Leader’s hype man.
Suckup and yes man are two negative stereotypes associated with the Sidekick. The other staff see the Sidekick as someone who will do anything for the approval of the Leader. No one goes to the Sidekick with a question or for help, because they know they’ll only get regurgitated Leader jargon. Sidekicks are frequently bypassed, and staff go directly to the Leader for clarifications, questions, and concerns.
Challenges lead to ideas, which lead to discourse, which lead to disagreement, which lead to more conversations, and ultimately ends with refined ideas. If the Sidekick is only a yes man, the productive struggle of opposing views during conversation never helps develop well thought out solutions.
A Leader hopes that over time, and with experience, the Sidekick develops their own beliefs about teaching and learning. When the next problem arises, it’s the Sidekick who develops the initial response or counters what the Leader has proposed. This is a necessary step if the Sidekick ever hopes to become a Leader.
Lemming
In the original Desert Island post, the Lemming is a pretty harsh category to fall under. In schools, the Lemmings are invaluable members of the building. They’re the fuel that keeps the fire burning.
It’s important for a school to have strong leadership, creative teachers, and a culture that attracts and retains strong educators. But, it’s the glamourless jobs that are the heartbeat of the building. The teacher who writes sub plans for a teammate who is out sick. The instructional assistant who gets pulled away from her regular duties to support a student needing extra attention. The custodian who salts the ramps to the trailers on a snow day so that when kids return, they can enter their classrooms safely. The assistant principal who teaches a lesson, because the teacher needs to run out early to catch her daughter’s track meet.
Unfortunately, Lemmings rarely get praised. Their behind the scene efforts deserve to be applauded and recognized whenever possible.
Leader
Are they letting everyone down? I ended the Leader description on the Desert Island post with this question. This question is just as apt for the school leader. Never quite knowing if they’re meeting the needs of each archetype drives them.
The hardest, but possibly the most important, facet of being an effective leader is balance. The Leader needs to have the patience to support the Helpless, but the restraint to not always rush to their aid. The Leader needs to provide a platform for the Complainer to share concerns, but shut down frivolous assertions swiftly. The Leader needs to occasionally take a chance on unique hires, but recognize (and cut ties) when that hire turns out to be an Instantly Killed. The Leader needs to give autonomy to the Loner, but tap into their strengths to support struggling teachers. The Leader needs to utilize the Sidekick’s support to move initiatives forward, but provide them with opportunities to grow and develop their own educator lens. The Leader needs to lean on the Lemmings to get tasks completed, but praise them publicly for all that they do.
Who Am I?
Just like the modern desert island Leader is more complicated than they were thirty years ago. I don’t think I fall into any one category. There are times when the Loner in me prefers to remove myself from the politics of a large school district. While strong in some aspects of a Leader, I still struggle with not doing too much for the Helpless and providing too big of a platform for the Complainer.
In the Desert Island post, I joked about being a Lemming. After rereading each one of the school setting archetypes, I felt connected to the Lemming. Although a lot of what I do is habitual/rote/boring, it is necessary to ensure educators have everything they need to positively impact kids. Lemmings are integral, and I’d like to think I am too.