This is amazing.

How would you like to be a teacher for 55 years?

How would you like to be a principal of a middle school for 48 years?

Madeleine P. Brennan maintains Dyker Heights Intermediate School 201 in Brooklyn as something of a time capsule.

Female secretaries, guidance counselors and assistant principals are asked to wear dresses or skirts; teachers may wear slacks, but not dungarees; men all wear ties. The marble staircase shines; the hallways are painted a classic pale blue. Each year before Christmas, there is Rhinestone Week, in which Mrs. Brennan encourages staff members to rummage through their grandmothers’ things for old costume jewelry to wear.

But the prize artifact of the past is Mrs. Brennan herself, who has been principal of the school for 48 years, longer than most of her teachers have been alive — longer, experts believe, than any other principal in the country. When she first arrived to work at this imposing brick building in March 1963, John F. Kennedy was president, ZIP codes were not yet in use, and the nearby Verrazano-Narrows Bridge was still under construction.

She has outlasted more than a dozen schools chancellors, who made what she described as “little changes here and there,” and watched a student body dominated by the children of Italian immigrants transform into one that is 45 percent Asian-American and 18 percent Hispanic.

But as the city embarks on an overhaul of its middle schools, Mrs. Brennan believes that what works remains the same. Consistent rules and consequences. A dedicated, hard-working staff. A calendar stuffed with activities like a Shakespeare fair and an annual musical. Sincere care for your charges.

“Teenagers fascinate me,” Mrs. Brennan said in an interview in her pin-straight office. “They are peculiar ducks, neither fish nor fowl. And you have to love them to really work with them. If you don’t love them, you are up a tree.”

Read the whole thing.

If you had listened...

Dear Principal,

I bid you farewell as you leave our school. Not with fondness, unfortunately, but with a sense of sadness, frustration, and even anger at the way that our so-called "relationship" developed. Indeed I use this term with some sense that it is completely inappropriate, given that you have done everything in your power to avoid developing any sort of relationship with any of the staff but a covey of sycophants whose servile obsequiousness to your face was actually less revolting than their gleeful mockery of you behind your back.

I come not to mock, but to mourn.

Teachers make their livings partly by being heard. This is one of the great conundrums of education today, since their voices are usually the last ones to be sought out by those that influence policy. You certainly maintained this same pattern in your dealings with your staff. In your interview before your official hiring, you looked us straight in the eye and declared that you were going to "be there" for your staff and support us and set up all kinds of mechanisms to listen to us. As an aside, although it was obvious from the choices of the other finalists that you were "the annointed one," the proprieties were still observed and you were "interviewed by some select staff members." But listening is not a task that you were in any way invested in. And yes, listening can be a task. But it is a task that enables a leader to lead effectively. It is indicative of understanding that the work of any school is the work of all the people there from the maintenance staff and secretaries to the lunch ladies to the teachers and support personnel to the administrators.

It was perhaps cute (or actually a bit Stepford-wifely) that you wore a suit in our school colors even to that interview and then for the first solid year that you were with us. I didn't know they made that many kinds of suits in that color (you may not be able to lead a collie to kibble, but man, you certainly can SHOP). You wore these suits to transmit a symbolic emblem of your investment (monetarily and supposedly emotionally) in our school. But purchasing a uniform does not make you a member of a team. It is not what is on the outside that matters, to use the old cliche. A real leader's raiment is integrity, professionalism, openness, honesty, forthrightness, strength, discipline, vision, and cooperation.

The first thing you did upon ensconcing yourself in the principal's office was attempt to completely redo the daily schedule and course offerings. Now, to be fair, this may have been decreed by our well-intentioned but generally blindered superintendent and/or school board. But it would have been wiser to get your feet under you, see for yourself what things needed to be changed, and THEN moved from a position of first-hand knowledge.

If you were in any way self-reflective and honest with yourself, you would, I hope, realize that your first and greatest failure, before the lying and manipulation and supercilious contempt, was a hubristic failure to listen to people who truly were stakeholders in the school. Or, many many times, to even make an appearance in the hallways at least once a week. Sometimes, we even kept a tally to make sure we weren't imagining the H.G. Wells act.

We were there before you came. We are still here now that you are leaving. We will continue on in the task we have elected to take up-- the education of our fellow citizens and future workers-- and attempt to clean up the mess that has developed because there are no other options for those of us who truly care about this school.

Several people tried to dialogue with you in a positive way about policies and procedures and challenges facing the school. At first, these were vestigial challenges that could not have possibly been interpreted by you as implying any criticism or failures upon your administration, and yet you recoiled from listening as if your teachers were attempting to force you to watch some sort of existentialist French puppet show.

If you had listened perhaps you would have learned or been reminded of yet another crucial lesson for a leader: that those on your staff are PEOPLE who are deserving of being treated with respect and human decency. Countless examples of untruths and half-truths issued from your lips about dealings you had with your staff. You publicly humiliated people with your thoughtlessness and then had the nerve to warn THEM to maintain professionalism and decorum. YOU have driven more than one adult to tears. In front of students. Appalling.

Then there was your response in the face of crises, as I have previously talked about here. We had a few the last few years: natural disasters, tragic student illnesses, and crime waves that could happen at any school, and, if handled properly, are weathered by the school community with little long-term effect. But you didn't seem to be concerned with working with the staff to meet these challenges so much as you were concerned with aggrandizing your own sense of power and limiting the flow of information in a patent attempt to build up the mystique of that "power." Rather than be honest with the staff about situations in the school community, your favorite tactic was to call emergency meetings after school to ask staff to report "ANYTHING suspicious"-- ANYTHING-- while claiming that you could not tell that same staff the context regarding the crisis or concern. By the time staff got home from work, the local news organizations had released far more information about the incident at hand than you had shared with us. You claim that "the law" prevents you from being informative. YOU ARE WRONG, either through ignorance or flat-out dishonesty.

So much that was so wrong. Impugning the integrity of your staff. Behaving like a capricious martinet instead of a person of substance. Hatefulness and incomparable hubris. Farewell, Captain Queeg. Godspeed. Which is another way of saying that you should accelerate yourself out the door. For everyone's sake.

Bunker Mentality

It's once again been over two weeks since we've seen administrators anywhere in the building-- the crises just keep rolling along. I do not envy them. But it seems that even on days when there aren't hearings or meetings with parents, Our Dear Leader hunkers down behind closed doors and pulled shades.

Let me tell you, this is not a good thing to do.

Now, we've long ago given up the idea that a principal should be an instructional leader, although that would seem to be necessary with the district rolling out some new instructional initiative every month -- do not think that I exaggerate. But the kids are smelling the fear emanating from the central office better than the Predator did in that Arnold Schwarzenegger movie. And so are some of the more hard-hearted staff members.

But someone who has more than five seconds of experience in the field of education at the ground level needs to tell you: the problem with hiding in a bunker is more than just the fact that it's awfully hard to push the door back open after a while. There're several others.

1. While you are in there, you completely lose touch with what is going on out in the school. I wonder if the administrators have ef noticed that the more they hide, allegedly taking care of problems, problems multiply even faster?

2. The more you stay in there cowering away, the more irrelevant you appear to both staff and students. That is even worse than point number one, although point number one feeds into point number two.

3. Staying in the bunker appears cowardly since the staff has been left by your default to deal with all the blowback from the crisis du jour. This is especially ironic and deadly if you have previously taken an attitude that staff members are not to be trusted as professionals when THEY have been the ones holding down the fort while you try to decide how to respond.

In Plato's thought experiment known as the Cave, those who were kept in the cave, seeing only shadows projected on the walls of what they told were reality, had no idea what true reality was like. All they knew were distorted shadows. That's wherer any administrators end up who allow themselves to lose touch with their primary tasks.

Don't let this happen to you.

The blind man and the elephant

Yes, we have a new assistant principal. In this case, "new" actually does mean "two seconds older than a biscuit." Now, listen, everybody has to start somewhere, but so far, his naïveté is more startling than a nudist at an Amish barn raising.

Cases in point: he keeps inventing forms to fill out and reminds us every other day to visit the school wiki. Worse, he's making the secretaries crazy-- and anyone who knows anything knows that if the secretaries ain't happy, ain't NOBODY happy. Including me.

I am glad he's so enthusiastic. No, wait--I'm lying. And furthermore, I have to work on my resentment of the fact that he makes me feel about a hundred years old.

But when he insinuated that I should have somehow known that a student was gay from her appearance I did fix him with the Eye of Fury and gently but firmly suggest that judging kids based on appearance would make us no better than our students. Not to mention that if you make a big deal about something, you often imply that there is something WRONG with it. Not that there is anything wrong with it, as the line goes. I mean, I am pretty well known on campus, but I certainly don't know every kid on campus, much less the intimate details of their lives when I do not know them at all. This guy has nearly made me say, "Now listen here, sonny...." about seven times a week since school began.

And I am NOT that old.

He's a suitor! He's bona FIDE. And he's gone.

As I watch yet another beloved colleague of mine leave our district to become an administrator somewhere else, I will admit that I am feeling a bit bitter.

Of course, the news that my friend was leaving did not come as a complete surprise. We could see it coming from the moment that we were informed that some twenty-something year old dude was hired for the opening we had for an assistant principal. And why did we have an opening for an assistant principal? Because the AP was leaving after being passed over in favor of yet another outside candidate. And so the circle will be unbroken...

Now my friend had seemingly proved himself over and over again in his bona-fides for the job. We have a habit in our building of taking teachers with administrative certification out of their classrooms and placing substitutes in their stead so that they can then sub for administrators who are taking vacation days or at a workshop or out ill (Don't start with me about this!). This he had done cheerfully. He had also served as a principal in short term positions as needed. In each instance, all reviews were glowing. He's calm (I've never seen him get angry, I swear) but firm, he's reasonable, he's knowledgeable about how students behave in the classroom and the challenges of teaching because he's been there on the front lines for more than two seconds. He understands what steps an administrator must perform in order to make sure that the ability to teach and learn are foremost as the primary business of a school.

Perhaps that was what concerned the PTB. As we tried to understand this incomprehensible decision to hire a guy who had never stayed in any one position for more than two years, this did occur to some of us. As I look at the people responsible for the hiring decisions, I see no one who taught for more than five years. NOT ONE. And I have come to the sad realization that, with the addition of our newest administrator, all by my lonesome I will actually have more classroom teaching experience than all six of our building administrators. Combined. And I am NOT that old. Really (Not a gray hair on my head!)!

So why is there this trend to shy away from actual educators when looking for people to administer a school? Further, why is there this tendency in my district to raise up amazing administrators from our ranks-- for the benefit of surrounding school districts only, of course. No such thing as growing our own leaders around here.

I am truly amazed at the lack of judgment and foresight that keeps being demonstrated in these personnel decisions. I'm certainly glad I've never felt a particular yen to move into administration, because that would mean I would have to leave.

How do you keep your job as a teacher without actually showing up?

So there's this teacher who claims that she has all kinds of esoteric, bizarre health issues. She has been out of the classroom eight times as much as she has been in the classroom. Her students have been in the hands of short-term subs and permanent subs for the LAST FOUR YEARS.

She basically shows up for a couple of weeks each year and then disappears with symptoms of scurvy or trench foot or whatnot.

She has written no lesson plans, done no grading, done no teaching for nearly her entire tenure in our district. She has also discriminated against students who do not share her ethnicity.

By the way, while claiming to be so incapacitated that she cannot possibly come to work, she has been seen in the mall and has been in texting contact with some of her students. During the school day, even. It's really good to know that her thumbs are apparently the only working body parts she possesses, along with a very active VISA account filled with a salary she has not earned.

Needless to say, this is her tenure year, and she realizes that this pattern may impede her chance at receiving what is called a "permanent teaching contract."

So what strategy has she devised now?

Apparently, now she is claiming racial bias and a hostile work environment from her fellow teachers and colleagues who have been left to put a bright face on a bad situation for four... long... years. Right now, all that has been promised is that she won't return to this building next year.

Really? I guess I shouldn't be surprised if she ends up being an administrator three or four years from now. I mean, the last time we had a totally incompetent teacher on this team, she was promoted to principal and then moved to a neighboring school district as an assistant superintendent faster than you can say, "Nincompoop."

This kind of situation develops due to poor hiring decisions, refusal to admit that a mistake has been made, and laziness on the part of... everyone. I will be ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS if the administration doesn't do the grunt work and get the documentation to make sure students get the teacher they deserve.

With the best of intentions

Dear New Principal:

It's me, the Wizened Old Veteran of the Classroom here, trying once again to help you out, and I'll have to say it here, where maybe someone else can profit from your struggles:

Never judge a teacher based on ten seconds of walking past their class at the end of the day-- a day with a completely bizarre schedule that I know you had foisted upon you by Assistant Principal Mata Hari, who has his eye on getting a cushy central office job just as soon as he can possibly kiss the hindquarters of anyone with the letters Ed.D after his or her name manage it.

You need to get your assistants in line. One of them is actively trying to stab you in the back. One of them never shows up for supervision, and also ignores the behavior guide. I often watch this one leave her office, walk twenty feet, see a staff member, and then pirouette back toward her office, and then repeat this cycle five minutes later. One of them is getting fed up with being the go-to principal since she actually is consistent. One of them is busy trying to be "real" and trying to be friends with the students.

Stop talking to the kids as if they are actually little kids.

Stop talking to the adults as if they were little kids.

Give teachers more than one hour's warning before you demand some project or lesson or bunch of paperwork. We are also expected to spend our time teaching from bell to bell, and these two expectations do not go together.

We all want to see academic standards improve. But if you enrage 90% of the faculty through capricious little decisions that really don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world, well, I'm afraid we'll be looking at you, kid. As you ooze right out the door, tired and defeated. And you're a nice person. I feel for you.

You are also making me consider leaving teaching.

I can't believe those words just left my fingertips.

The Rise of the Roamin' Empire

So you know how in my previous post I talked about kids openly roaming the hallways while skipping class is a sign that the administration has abdicated their responsibilities?

A staff member approached an administrator and expressed concern about the Rise of the Roamin' Empire, as some of us like to call the parade in the hallways. The response?




A big ol' accusation of lese majeste: "Mind your own business, sirrah."

Hmm. Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.

Life lessons for principals: 5 signs that your school is not well

Well, given that I've been teaching for longer than one of my assistant principals has been alive ( not really, but almost!) advice is being offered, solicited or not. This goes out to all the administrators out there, even those who do NOT understand the photo illustration to my left here, which is an example of what NOT to do as well:

1. Walk out into the hallways right after the tardy bell rings. Are there more than one or two kids in the halls? Are those kids ambling, or scrambling? If the answer to either one of these is yes, then you and your staff are not in control of the amount of content being delivered to the students, and therefore the school is not doing its main job. You are not in control of the school. This means that you are not performing your main job, which is to ensure that instruction can take place.
1a. Let me be clear: the main job of a school is NOT to provide a bright clean place to hang out. It is not there to keep potential thugs or partiers off the streets. It is not there to provide social services such as meals, haircuts, or visits with health care professionals. A school must primarily exist to provide the opportunity to gain an education. A school must emphasize this as its main mission, or it will be merely a very expensive community center full of people who don't seem to know very much-- and that could include the staff, and that means YOU.

2. Walk out into the hallways fifteen minutes after class has begun, or ten minutes before the end of a class period. The last class period of the day is especially good for this. Are there kids wandering around (Wait! you interrupt. Don't you mean "students?" And the answer is, No, I do not. Just hanging out in a school does not make one a student any more than just hanging out at Cape Canaveral makes one an astronaut. But I digress.) Kids skipping class with impunity means that you and your staff are not in control of the amount of content being delivered to the students, and therefore the school is not doing its main job. You are not in control of the school. This means that you are not performing your main job, which is to ensure that instruction can take place.

3. Walk into the bathrooms. Smell smoke? If you want to see how much damage and panic can ensue from a real fire evacuation, just continue to ignore this, and then stand back and watch the fun. This means that you are not performing your secondary job, which is to ensure that the school is a safe and orderly place to be.

4. Does your school have a behavior code or guide? Do you regularly ignore or act unaware of the consequences prescribed in the behavior guide and merely "talk to" students with referrals or place them on "suspended sentences?" Do you then wonder why the staff either a) no longer trusts you or b) no longer enforces the behavior guide themselves? This means that you are not performing your secondary job, which is to ensure that the school is a safe and orderly place to be. Only have the rules you are going to enforce. Otherwise, stop pretending and get rid of the behavior guide.
4a. Really, you're a grown person and you want to be "friends" with adolescents? You need to be something much more valuable to them: an adult whose behavior they can predict and rely upon, and someone who cares enough to encourage them to better behavior and safer behavior by predictably responding to poor choices with correction and redirection. The kids really don't think that spineless poseurs are cool. They think they are chumps. And chumps make more work for themselves by not being clear about what the limits for behavior are, because kids will push until they find out those limits.

5. Do you make eye contact with staff when they are speaking with you? Do you respond to emails in a timely manner? Do you seek out information and then act upon it? If you want to be openly supercilious, then go work at some snooty retail outlet, where they seem to cultivate such disregard in their staff.



Just trying to be helpful. You should try it sometime.

Random bits of wisdom

Let's just say that, if I knew a new principal, I might suggest that this principal get out of his or her office and make his or her presence known among the staff. Because the staff is turning, my friend, and sometimes okay is not good enough.

Let's just say that, we need to all understand that, apparently, our district technology is nothing but a steaming pile of doo-doo and cannot be counted upon to do anything but swoon at the first sign of a high volume of usage. Like, maybe, a few dozen teachers trying to enter grades while the district is trying to administer a web-based assessment.

Let's just say that, we are now deep enough into the school year that, as they say, the HONEYMOON IS OVER. One of my good girls got sent down for FIGHTING???? Wha...?

Let's just say that, some people call me the space cowboy, some call me the gangster of love....

Ya feel me?

Principals' Life Lesson 24: Inspired Leadership

Just as so many schools of education and teacher training programs provide NO real-life, practical instruction for classroom management besides some packaged, theoretical or dated programming, it seems many principal-certification programs also lack instruction on how to guide and mentor teachers. One would think that anyone with a passing knowledge of life would understand that an atmosphere of teamwork, respect, and shared expertise foster the best chance at success in a school as well as in the business world. One would think that, but one would unfortunately often be wrong.

All too often, in my experience in the business world, the retail world, and the education world, "teamwork" has been a sham concept when mouthed by one's boss, interpreted as treating employees as mere tools. One in authority can bludgeon his or her followers with fear and intimidation, or can pursue one's own agenda without providing leadership at all, or can utilize one's employees as resources and professionals engaged in a common mission. I've had bosses who were fluffy kittens gamboling innocently within the coils of a rattlesnake poised to strike, I've had bosses who emulated George C. Scott as General Patton; I've had bosses who were Michael Scott, I've had bosses who were Ulysses Everett McGill, and I have had bosses who were doing their jobs not for joy but for money. But no matter what kind of boss one has, the boss sets the climate in the school.


Climate change isn't just something Al Gore is talking about. Climate change in schools is necessary if we are to keep up with the ever-increasing demands being placed upon the educational system in this country.

So just what do inspirational leaders do? What can truly inspirational teachers and principals and superintendents do? The most basic answer is: inspirational leaders share the burdens of the task at hand, they act as a resource for their employees, and they dedicate themselves to success by being real facilitators for their employees. From the UK, I found this in a report from the Department for Business Enterprise and Regulatory Reform, and I have tweaked this a bit:

1. They sincerely care for their people
Try to know WHO your staff members are as people. I will never forget how, when my grandmother died and I had to prepare to drive eleven hours across the country, my principal came to me and checked how I was. He put aside everything else and was there for me, and it only took five minutes. I also remember one day, when I hadn't slept for more than 3 hours at a stretch because I had a baby who couldn't sleep, my assistant principal intercepted me, saw the dark circles under my eyes, and drove me home. She then taught my classes herself until the sub arrived. When the principals model this, the teachers will do this for each other, too. And that's the way it should be.

2. Cooperate/involve everybody
A principal needs to trust his or her staff to be professionals (If someone is not a professional, deal with them rather than crafting punitive measures to be applied to everybody, please!). The principal job is incredibly demanding, and there are lots of balls to juggle. Learn to delegate, and be grateful for the help you receive. One of my greatest peeves is the way that many principals withhold important information from teachers (and, by the way, that is a violation of federal law), and how they huddle in groups in an attempt to ward off anyone approaching them. Principals who play favorites or ignore the input of the staff are shooting themselves in the foot. A principal must be willing to be a problem-solver and facilitator.

3. Name and appreciate the contributions of everybody
This flows from my comments on numbers 1 and 2. If you hide in your office all the time, you will be unable to appreciate what is done in the school. I once worked for an administration who came up with this adorable slogan: "It's not about the teaching, it's about the learning." After the English teacher in me got over the comma splice, I was incredibly insulted by this slogan. If it's not about the teaching, then why are teachers blamed for everything that happens? Then I got started making up sarcastic riffs on this stupid idea. But morale was the lowest I had experienced at this school after this little gem was published.

4. Create a climate of fun and create a space for enjoyment at work
If nothing but criticism-- and worse, disdain for teachers-- leaves your mouth or pervades your body language, everything will suffer. Try to knit the staff together as a team. Encourage teachers to form a softball team-- and show up for the games if you won't play yourself. Buy snacks for periodic happy hours. Have a hot dog roast after school. And for God's sake, on teacher appreciation day, don't throw trinkets at our heads, no matter what. I've had principals push the "Have Fun!" mantra, like from that FISH! book, but remain completely aloof from the staff.

5. Demonstrate authentic trust
I see this as two things: building trust and demonstrating trust.
A great administrator doesn't expect his or her staff to do anything he or she isn't willing to do. I once had a principal who expected every teacher to volunteer for two after-school duties each semester (for free) but he was never there. I have donated my musical talents for fundraisers for various student activities (requiring untold hours of practice after school besides the actual event)-- and seen the principal skip the event, not even making a token appearance. That sends a bad message. You're not expected to show up for everything, but rotate the events you do show up for each year, so that the people doing them can feel valued, at the very least. I also resent emails reminding us to enforce a certain policy and then watch principals not say a word as students walk by them or even hold conversations with them while violating the policy.
Likewise, to demonstrate that you do trust your staff, you have to give them substantive tasks to accomplish. Let go of the reins a bit! You'll make yourself happier and more healthy in the long run, believe me. Above all, don't be afraid to ask for help. We are all in this together, and we have to do the job of educating students together.

6. Never avoid an opportunity to listen
Examples of this would be: make eye contact when talking to people; don't read email during a conversation; endeavor to know what each of your employees has done/is doing; talk to your employees at times OTHER than when there is a problem, and be relaxed and comfortable in leaving your office and moving around the school. Don't use your secretary as a guard dog. Respond to emails properly, and promptly. Try walking up to a different person every day and asking how things are going, and if they have any needs you can meet. Then actually listen to the answer. Support your staff in the community-- and that includes in front of students and parents, even parents that are on the school board.

If you didn't love teaching, please don't become an administrator. If you taught for less than five years, please realize that there are teachers who are more experienced in instruction than you are, and utilize that and celebrate it. If you really want to create a great school, manage your staff with the intent to motivate them to excellence, and create a situation in which that is possible. Anything that interferes with that mission should be curtailed. Have a realistic, positive attitude, and that attitude will spread.

Principals' Life Lesson 23: Why new programs don't work

Listening to potential administrators lay out their plans to improve a school has made me feel compelled to offer some advice. The reason why I feel this compulsion is that, thus far, the people I have seen have about ten years less experience than I do in education and about 15 years' fewer experience as a teacher. Let's ignore the fact that you know I think that those two factors alone are a HORRIBLE idea, because we could go on all year long about that, and so we won't, since there is nothing I can do about this trend.

So here's the deal, from a wizened old veteran to all active and incipient administrators out there: The number one reason why new programs do not work in schools is due to bad professional development and training. We have talked about this before.

The number two reason is that there is not enough time, ownership, or energy allowed to teachers who are told to implement the new program.

It is this second reason that I would like to discuss. Administrators, think about what propelled you into administration (I will ignore those people who did it because they weren't good at teaching or who did it for the money-- and I wish I could ignore those people all the time, but I can't). Much of it was probably a feeling that you did not have enough time, autonomy and ownership of the conditions that shape the classroom experience. Remember that when you come up with four, five, six or even more new programs that you expect your teachers to implement.

If you are going to add a new task to your teachers' plates, then something else HAS GOT TO GO. There is only so much time and energy that a teacher can bring to the emotionally and physically demanding task of teaching. If you can't think of anything that can be taken away, then you really can't demand that another task be added. It's the brutal truth.

The bottom line for me as a teacher is making sure that the instruction opportunity that I provide is the very best that it can be. Paperwork to make administrators happy comes in a poor second in terms of time I will devote, because, ultimately, it is the experience that I help create for my students that is my primary job. Nothing drives me crazier than an administrator who suddenly wants me to give up a week of instructional time for some new plan that he went on a junket to someplace warm to learn. I plan weeks and months in advance. I balance this planning with trying to respond to individual students' needs. That has to come first. New programs are often met with open skepticism from their inception not because we are lazy but because we are already overburdened and short of time as it is (and if you think one of your teachers is lazy, by the way, deal with THAT person rather than placing restrictions and casting aspersions on all of us).

If administrators do not understand this, they will either get open rebellion and mockery from their staffs when they place yet one more demand upon us, or they will get half-hearted cooperation and ultimate failure for their programs. This also leads to the continual cascade of programs that fly through school as The Flavor of The Month, since "The last program didn't work." Consider please: was the last program actually given a chance to be implemented by truly giving your teachers the TIME they need to implement it?

Here's the point: administrators either respect their teachers and staff as professionals, or they don't. Professionals are given the tools they need to succeed by their management. Time, support and responsibility are three of the most important tools managers give to those they supervise. Administrators, you are managers for your teachers and staff. You would think I wouldn't have to say that, either, but I DO.

What we will discuss next week: administrators' attitudes for success.