Capstone Paper, Fall 2023

Much Ado about Noting

In the season 2 episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender, “Return to Omashu” (2006), protagonist Aang—a 12-year-old child gifted with the ability to manipulate, or “bend,” the elements of water, earth, fire, and air—enriches his understanding of jing with his friend Bumi, king of the city of Omashu:

BUMI: Listen to me, Aang. There are options in fighting called jing. It's a choice of how you direct your energy.

AANG: I know! There’s positive jing when you’re attacking and negative jing when you’re retreating.

BUMI: And neutral jing: When you do nothing.

AANG: There are three jings?

BUMI: Well, technically, there are eighty-five, but let’s just focus on the third. Neutral jing is the key to Earthbending. It involves listening and waiting for the right moment to strike. (DiMartino and Konietzko, 2006)

Effective leaders, like Earthbenders, listen and learn before taking action. Seldom has a leader been successful at making broad, sweeping changes to an organization without earning the trust and respect from colleagues up, down, and around. The old adage that “change moves at the speed of trust” especially holds true with respect to schools. Educationalist Robert Evans (2001) remarks that “[c]ultural change, increasingly seen not just as vital to certain programmatic changes in schools but as a goal in its own right, is an extraordinarily complex undertaking” (p. 17). He adds that “culture is conservative: it works to preserve the status quo. Changing it is vastly more difficult than is popularly imagined” (p. 17). Organizations move slowly because people do not fear change; rather, they fear pain. People seek not to do things differently because doing so requires will, effort, and time, which some might not have. Even so-called “progressive” schools, despite their inclination to want to move quickly towards becoming diverse and inclusive organizations, still face some of the same challenges as more traditional ones. Positive and negative jing abound omnidirectionally, with faculty, staff, students, and families arguing, even shouting, over, say, what culturally responsive education looks like within the space, or what texts to teach and whose histories to honor. The list goes on. However, an effective leader concentrates their energy towards neutral jing, listening and learning carefully and critically before acting. I would adjust Bumi’s claim about neutral jing; nothing is actually noting. Leaders expend a lot of energy gaining a deep understanding of a system or a problem. It may seem like nothing, but it is really a critical and deep reflective process that in turn can shape a school for the better.

A challenge with doing nothing or with noting is that in our current, polarized climate, we seem to seek individuals who can boldly and swiftly practice, preach, even pontificate, the values they espouse—and anything less than that can result in their ouster. We have seen this problem play out in the higher education space, most recently with the resignation of University of Pennsylvania president Liz Magill after a fraught congressional testimony and questioning from Republican representative Elise Stefanik of New York. Currently, one of the challenges school leaders face is navigating the politics of social justice. Professor Muhammad Khalifa (2018) calls upon leaders to tap into what he calls “community-based epistemologies” to effect positive change within schools (p. 59). However, communities are as complicated as the people that comprise them, and these nuances lead people to reconsider what makes a school effective in its work, for not everyone would agree on a certain kind of policy or approach to teaching and learning. Professor of Education Kenneth Strike (2007) notes that “[l]iberal democratic societies are often characterized by the tension between democratic decision making and individual freedom” (p. 8). Independent schools, as microcosms and products of liberal democratic societies, also face this same challenge: the contrast between working in community and individually. This tension is partly what puts the independent in independent schools, irrespective of how independent schools are not funded by tax dollars. Within a progressive, independent school in particular, which champions diversity, equity, and inclusion as a central tenet of its work, every individual on campus, from students and alumni, to faculty and staff, to families and friends, to administrators and trustees, has a different—and, at times, competing—view of how best to create a just and equitable environment here. Therefore, a Head of School would need to tread lightly, out of fear of being “canceled” for saying the wrong thing or for pushing the envelope too far. Alternatively, a leader would need to listen and ensure that all voices are heard and honored when making decisions.

These polemics shake out at my host institution in a variety of ways and from a slew of stakeholders, both younger and older. As the inaugural Director of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) at my school, I think of my role and responsibility as principal steward of culturally responsive leadership, modeling the efforts for our faculty and staff to meet the needs of our diverse community. This endeavor includes teaching our faculty, staff, families, and other critical stakeholders racial literacy, which Professor of Urban Education Howard C. Stevenson (2014) defines as “the ability to read, recast, and resolve racially stressful social interactions” (p. 4). Likewise, I hope to equip my students with racial self-efficacy, or “the belief that one can successfully meet racial demands and accomplish racial tasks” (Stevenson, 2014, p. 18). Of course, the work of a DEI Director is not limited to the work of race; it spans gender identity and expression, sexuality, national origin, language, perceived (dis)ability, to name a few. As a result of my efforts to build a big tent, ensuring all voices are heard and honored, I must also listen to the voices of those who might take issue with our Black Lives Matter and Pride flags flying at full-staff along with the national flags along Flag Row. This work becomes more complicated when others within the same institution feel that even holding space for these kinds of conversations elevates white supremacy or reifies oppression. To an outsider, I cannot win.

Thus, it behooves leaders now more than ever to build community across difference, because without any sense of cohesion amongst faculty and staff, the school falters. Building culture ideally begins with fostering trusting relationships amongst colleagues. In fact, long-time educator Judith Gaston-Fisher (2004) invites leaders to foster a sense of collegiality, which she defines as “informed, skilled communication resulting in trust and risk-taking,” in their schools (p. 163). She adds that this work is founded upon the “belief, support, and advancement of the mission statement of the school,” as well as centering the students in all decision-making (p. 163). If a department chair, let alone a Head of School, aims to build a culturally responsive faculty and staff, promoting a sense of collegiality must be, and remain, a top priority. Team members need to work well together if they wish to exchange ideas and practices, as well as share (in) learning with one another. Of course, congeniality—“enjoying the company of those like you whom you choose to admit to your select group” (p. 162)—is a bonus. However, at its core, collegiality is a verb, or, in Gaston-Fisher’s words, a “method”: It necessitates active participation on part of the faculty and staff within a school, notably with a leader as the guide on the side (p. 162). To that end, a leader must facilitate that work, as well as model the kind of approaches and skills required of faculty to work as a team. As above, so below: Whatever happens at the helm of an organization bleeds into and, as a result, influences the work happening amongst all the subordinates. Therefore, a leader will need to take responsibility for any forward momentum and likewise any missteps. 

Additionally, Gaston-Fisher warns that “the lack of collegiality [within an organization] … create[s] a lack of follow-through, [and v]ision without collegiality breeds stagnation” (p. 163). In a similar way, Susan Wheelan, et al. (2021), note, “Organization members need not only to know the words contained in the mission statement but also to understand and believe those words” (p. 6). Put another way, leadership is not something one has but does. Members must deeply internalize and live the mission in word and deed. Alignment matters a great deal, too; agreement is one thing, but it is important for members of a group to be aligned in what the organization believes in and acting upon that. Gaston-Fisher also notes that “[i]f growth and learning for all constituents of a school is to occur, collegiality and teamwork must be a part of that school’s foundation” (p. 159, emphasis original). Teamwork builds on collegiality; in fact, I would argue that any team worth its salt cannot function well, if at all, without any sense of cohesion amongst teammates. For example, at my host institution, the senior administrative team struggles to build any sense of collegiality; some members of the team seem to know their roles and responsibilities, while others feel like they know better than everyone else what the needs of the school are and thus tend to both overstep and undermine. As a result, meetings become fraught and silences feel equally tense and heavy. My Head of School tries to diffuse this tension with humor and joviality, but the root problem remains the same: No one on the team trusts one another to work with one another.

If I were the Head of School in this situation, I would change the way meetings operate to prioritize building leadership capacities within our team. Most of our hour-long weekly meetings begin with announcements and appreciations, which can take approximately up to one-third of the meeting’s duration. During leadership team meetings, spending this time frustrates members of our senior leadership team; likewise, in our once-monthly, all-school faculty meetings, colleagues either mock or disparage the ritual through rolling their eyes or climbing upon their soapboxes. While cultivating an attitude of gratitude is significant in building stronger systems within the school, it is only part of the equation. A strong Head of School would know that their “influence is even broader [in that they] work through other leaders in schools to influence what goes on inside of classrooms” (Supovitz, et al., 2010, p. 47). Independent schools tend to assign more power to principals, Division Heads, and Heads of School because they are the more public figures within an institution and for many the person they think of when they hear the term school leader. Therefore, as the institution’s most visible employee and to some chief teaching and learning officer, the Head of School should feel compelled to share strategies to build up the team and to channel their influence within the school. This work in turn benefits the students and their sense of belonging, as well as their learning. It also changes the model of leadership within the school, moving towards a more egalitarian system that makes everyone—teachers, paraprofessionals, and support staff—feel like they have a voice. 

Only after building teams and fostering trust within them can teachers engage more deeply in the work of educating all our students. In fact, one could argue that the key to high-quality literacy and social studies education begins and ends with winning the trust and respect of students and families. Muhammad Khalifa argues that “learning about and embracing community interests, and … humanizing students in school … can contribute to student achievement” (2018, p. 192). Historically, we have discussed the importance of meeting students where they are. Indeed, culturally responsive teachers try to stay current with popular culture and try to relate to students on that level. However, this work goes beyond knowing social media trends or popular culture; rather, culturally responsive teachers center the identities of their students in their work. National diversity practitioner and facilitator Dr. Liza Talusan (2021) calls this work “identity-conscious” education; any effective school leader can recognize the importance of centering identity in this work. Khalifa builds on Talusan’s observation, noting, “Educators learn how to connect curricula and instruction with the lived experiences of students; they establish trusting relationships that are needed if students decide to stay and learn from them” (p. 192, emphasis added). In independent schools, the fact that students and families can decide to leave the institution—and thus the teacher—adds a different dimension to Khalifa’s observation, as tuition dollars overwhelmingly influence fiduciary matters like teachers’ salaries.

Furthermore, Megan Tschannen-Moran (2004) emphasizes the role of student safety in the classroom. Aggressions towards minoritized students—micro and macro (cf. Stevenson, 2014)—can sow distrust in the leaders whose main responsibility above educating is protecting students: “Students who do not trust their teachers or fellow students cannot learn efficiently because they invest their energy in calculating ways to protect themselves instead of engaging in the learning process. If stories about how an administrator has failed to reliably protect the interests of a teacher or student circulate, a cycle of mistrust may begin to form as people begin to fear that they, too, might be victimized” (pp. 19–20). As a DEI Director, I know how important it is for students to feel safe at school. At my institution especially, which is composed predominantly of Black and brown students, their views of their teachers disproportionately inform and transform policy decisions at the administrative level. Their voice and advocacy led them to push the administrative team to rethink their hiring pool for the new Head of the Middle and Upper School; similarly, their push for change is also how the BLM and Pride flags made their way to Flag Row. While these are remarkable moments in our school’s history, students still feel unsafe here. In fact, the current Student Government Association Co-President, a senior who has attended the school since she was two, said to me in passing that our school is a hostile environment. According to her, the teachers’ distrust of the students leads students to reciprocate those feelings and vilify their educators, in turn perpetuating a series of policies that disempower students. In these conversations with her and other “lifers,” as we call them here, I have learned that being identity-conscious and culturally responsive is essential to producing the agents of change we hope to see reshape society.

How can we arrive at that point? For one, rethinking curriculum can help students feel known and valued, in turn promoting a sense of confidence and safety. Effective educators make their content relevant to all their students, centering the needs of minoritized people in the process. For example, the Humanities department conducts an annual review of its content each year, with colleagues asking one another which perspectives are heard, silenced, or muffled. This work reflects a deep commitment to ensuring representation in texts and histories throughout all grade levels. They wrestle with what Ronald Heifetz, et al. (2009), deem technical and adaptive challenges. Technical challenges feature “known solutions that can be implemented by current know-how. They can be resolved through the application of authoritative expertise and through the organization’s current structures, procedures, and ways of doing things” (p. 7, emphasis added). Meanwhile, an adaptive challenge requires “changes in people's priorities, beliefs, habits, and loyalties” (p. 7). Deciding what teachers instruct for which grade of course features elements of technical challenges: The team must rely on the school’s policies with respect to book ordering, course registration, and the like, which provide necessary and important protocols—if not guardrails—for teachers. Of course, the bulk of this work is an adaptive challenge, for it necessitates change on behalf of the individuals within a team—and the team itself. The department, which is overwhelmingly white and male, must become more racially literate so that they can dramatically improve the well-being and the work of students (Stevenson, 2014). Howard Stevenson astutely notes, “Schools are centers of racial socialization and represent the one place where social ethics, economic warfare, national politics, and racial conflict emerge, collide, erupt, or lay hidden daily”; therefore, our teachers must take up the mantle and not cower from these matters but put them front and center (p. 60). 

This effort requires a healthy, yet paradoxical blend of proaction and reaction. Amy Heineke and Jay McTighe note that “[t]eaching is a means to an end, and curriculum planning precedes instruction. The most successful teaching begins with clarity about desired learning outcomes and about the evidence that will show that learning has occurred” (Heineke and McTighe, 2018, p. 8, emphasis original). While effective teachers intricately plan out their courses and ensure that their students achieve their learning targets, one could argue that expert teachers also respond to the needs of the students at a given moment. Indeed, effective planning is one thing, but teachers at times need to toss out a well-developed lesson in favor of understanding their learners’ socioemotional needs. For instance, in the wake of tragedy, helping students to process whatever event might have occurred—locally or otherwise—supersedes any need to review academic content. An effective leader would make teachers feel comfortable to divert away from prioritizing academic content and center the students’ needs at that moment. Curriculum at that point becomes second to the student’s well-being; a good teacher should not be concerned with ignoring content for a day to instead support students in crisis. 

Taking matters a step further, curricular change can arguably be difficult because any issues in the system can lead to problems, especially given the tough relationship between meeting students’ needs and preparing them for college and career readiness. Long-time educational leaders Michael Fullan and Joanne Quinn (2016) observe, “Effective change processes shape and reshape good ideas as they build capacity and ownership among participants. There are two components: the quality of the idea and the quality of the process. Neglect one or the other and you will fail” (p. 14). Thankfully, in thinking how the Humanities department thinks through curriculum, both the ideas and process are high-quality. However, it succumbs to the same problems that the institution faces: consistency. The Humanities department, as with any professional learning community, illustrates what Richard DuFour calls “a grand design—a powerful new way of working together that profoundly affects the practices of schooling” (p. 11). It is about ideation and scheming, constructing a vision for what school can be and do for our students. However, “initiating and sustaining the concept requires hard work. It requires the school staff to focus on learning rather than teaching, work collaboratively on matters related to learning, and hold itself accountable for the kind of results that fuel continual forthcoming improvement” (DuFour, 2004, p. 11, emphasis added). My host institution has historically failed with the latter element because the teachers face temporal and financial constraints to do their jobs well. Ambition is one thing, though execution is another matter entirely. Juxtaposing this reality alongside our school’s vision for supporting our Black and brown students, one might notice that the two seldom conflate. The school falls to the level of its systems, which are ad hoc at best, and as a result, uphold policies and protocols that harm our minoritized students and families. An effective school leader must do all they can to ensure that the systems indeed hold up.

Linda Darling-Hammond (2013) frames this challenge of designing effective systems best: “If teaching is to be effective, policies that construct the learning environment and the teaching context must be addressed along with the qualities of individual teachers” (p. 14). The working conditions of our teachers and the learning conditions of our students are one and the same; thus, the Head of School must ensure that both are taken care of appropriately. That way, teachers feel empowered to instruct students in the ways of literacy and social studies, and students feel understood by the adults in their lives. With literacy especially, we must equip our students with the skills to decode letters, words, and paragraphs through a whole host of means. Moreover, students can and should become conversant in the language of each discipline. According to literacy experts P. David Pearson, et al. (2023), “content and the text that vary from one discipline to the next. So do the ways we talk about the disciplines, how we construct arguments (what counts as a claim and what counts as evidence), and even how we gain knowledge and how we evaluate the trustworthiness of evidence” (in Morrow, et al., p. 18). Teachers must then ensure that students can notice and internalize that “language and literacy practices either differ or are applied differently from one academic discipline to the next” (p. 17). The code-switching that results helps students understand the nuances of scientific, historical, even mathematical literacy (as distinct from numeracy); as a result, students will achieve scholastically and, ideally, understand the world around them in a whole host of contexts (Pearson, et al., in Morrow, et al., 2023). Great leaders enable and in turn lift up teachers to integrate a whole host of praxes to augment our students’ literacy.

Of course, no single method reigns supreme; strict, dutiful adherence to a practice or belief without any modicum of healthy curiosity or skepticism hurts teachers and students alike. Heidi Jacobs and Marie Alcock (2017) note, “Debates over curriculum content have raged between advocates for preselected essential topics and advocates for students’ freedom of choice. The sustained nature of this tension appears in present-day debates with roots in the past” (p. 65). For instance, “Current discussions frequently refer to the grip of decisions made in the latter part of the 19th century, and that point cannot be dismissed” (p. 65). We see this conflict play out in school board meetings, town halls, and even parent-teacher conferences. Indeed, these debates over what constitutes a holistic education have happened since the beginning of education. In fact, I have been seated at multiple sides of this debate. At my host institution, I have sat in meetings in which families rail against the school’s curriculum because it seemingly does not align with their religious values. However, seeing my Head of School Andrew Teller navigate these conversations gives me hope for the school and for the teachers within it. Framing matters within the school’s mission, history, and values, he invited a family to consider the repercussions of opting out of reading a text: “[I]t is our school’s policy that no student can opt out of reading an important work of literature (or any other text) because a character is an immigrant, a person of color, agender, or for any other reason. To do so would be to go against our School’s Mission and Values. Put differently, what message would we be sending our students if we allowed them to opt out of a book whose core purpose is to teach empathy in the face of a hate crime?” (Teller 2023). This invitation to consider deeply the value and influence of literature on children’s social and moral development reflects Teller’s resonant leadership in a real way. As Annie McKee, et al. (2008), define it, “Resonant leaders are attuned to themselves and to the needs, desires, and dreams of the people they lead” (p. 2). I applaud Teller’s responsiveness and centeredness in navigating this tough conversation with a family, and I seek to embody this approach in my own leadership. He noted, waited, and listened—like an Earthbender would—then struck with an appropriate level of intensity to ensure that he was clear about what our school stands for.

Leadership is complicated and nuanced. Effective change agents embrace multiple perspectives and gradients within a whole host of topics. They lean into the grey area, not cower from it. Currently, everyone seems to opine on what meaningful change in education looks like, and these perspectives only seem to be amplified in the Information Age. However, in the midst of this cacophonous din can a true leader who is able to listen emerge. Listening means noting; it means hearing each perspective and determining which ones need to be honored. Only through this simple, yet complicated act can meaningful change actually occur.

References

• Darling-Hammond, L. (2013). Getting Teacher Evaluation Right. Teachers College Press.

• DuFour, R. (2004). “What is a Professional Learning Community?” In Educational Leadership. 61(8). pp. 6-11.

• Ehasz, E. W. (Writer), and Spaulding, E. (Director). (2006, April 7). “Return to Omashu” (Season 2, Episode 3) [TV series episode]. In M. DiMartino and B. Konietzko (Executive Producers), Avatar: The Last Airbender. Nickelodeon.

• Evans, R. (2001). The Human Side of School Change: Reform, Resistance, and the Real-Life Problems of Innovation. Jossey-Bass.

• Fullan, M. and Quinn, J. (2016). Coherence. Corwin.

• Gaston Fisher, J. L. (2004). “Collegiality: A Catalyst for Growth Through Teacher Evaluation and Professional Development.” In P. F. Bassett & C. Thorn (Eds.), Looking Ahead: Independent School Issues & Answers (2nd ed., pp. 157-184). Avocus.

• Heineke, A. and McTighe, J. (2018). Understanding by Design in the Culturally and Linguistically Diverse Classroom. ASCD.

• Heifetz, R. A., Linsky, M., and Grashow, A. (2009). “The Theory Behind the Practice.” In The Practice of Adaptive Leadership: Tools and Tactics for Changing Your Organization and the World (pp. 1-28). Harvard Business Review Press.

• Jacobs, H. and Alcock, M. (2017). Bold Moves for Schools. ASCD.

• Khalifa, M. (2018). Culturally Responsive School Leadership. Harvard Education Press.

• McKee, A. Boyatzis, R., and Johnston, F. (2008). Becoming a Resonant Leader: Develop Your Emotional Intelligence, Renew Your Relationships, and Sustain Your Effectiveness. Harvard Business Review Press.

• Morrow, L. M., Morrell, E., and Casey, H. K. (2023). Best Practices in Literacy Instruction. 7th edition. Guilford Publications.

• Pak, K. and Ravitch, S. M. (2021). Critical Leadership Praxis for Educational and Social Change. Teachers College Press.

• Stevenson, H. (2014). Promoting Racial Literacy in Schools: Differences That Make a Difference. Teachers College Press.

• Strike, K. (2007). Ethical Leadership in Schools: Creating Community in an Environment of Accountability. Corwin Press.

• Supovitz, J., Sirinides, P., & May, H. (2010). “How Principals and Peers Influence Teaching and Learning.” In Education Administration Quarterly. 46 (1). pp. 31-56.

• Teller, A. (2023, February 16). Personal communication.

• Tschannen-Moran, M. (2004). Trust Matters: Leadership for Successful Schools. Jossey-Bass.

• Wheelan, S. A., Akerlund, M., & Jacobsson, C. (2021). Creating Effective Teams: A Guide for Members and Leaders (6th ed.). SAGE.