On trust

 Earlier this week, the man who was my first department chair, who first hired me as an English teacher, died. Fred was a just lovely person, who, as was mentioned today at his funeral, had a real heart for kids. He wanted students to do well, he worked to see them succeed, and he was always so happy when they did, in whatever context that was.

Lenny P. Zakim Bridge
Because bridges are about trust, too

I was thinking this week, though, that it wasn't only the students that Fred wanted to see succeed. As my first boss in education, Fred wanted me to do well. As I was hired a long-term part-time sub for someone who was out on medical leave, one could understand why maybe I wouldn't have gotten an investment in time from the department chair. But Fred, first, of course, cared about my students, and thus had to pay attention, but he also saw me, freshly minted MAT and licensure in hand, and he wanted me to be a good teacher. 

Among other things, that meant that he knew that I had probably the best teacher in the department next door, and he made sure I knew I could call on her anytime. It meant that he was in and out of my classroom a lot, unobtrusively. It meant that I knew I could call him in if I didn't know what to do, or needed help figuring how what to do, or if I just was overwhelmed or at a loss.

But the other thing that Fred did was trust me. I--wisely, given my experience!--didn't yet trust myself. But Fred and my other experienced colleagues were there to back me up, to give me feedback, to help me over the bumps, to answer my dumb questions and my hard ones, and to generally get me through those first months (and, eventually, first years). And that meant that I had space, also, to fail. 

I trusted Fred, and I trusted my colleagues. Ultimately, I also trusted my principal and my superintendent.

To get better at something, it has to be safe to fail. 

I see this said about students in classrooms: kids have to feel safe in order to learn. Kids have to know that they can try and not get it without that being the end in order to try again. It is, though, just as true when we are learning to do something as complicated as teaching, which juggles so many different kind of skills and practices. If you're a new teacher--or a new principal, or a new anything--you're going to sometimes get things wrong (hopefully, not in any way that's major!). You have to feel safe to try, and to fail, so you can get better.

And that's about trusting those who supervise you, and those who surround you, and those who supervise those who supervise you. 

Ultimately, education runs on trust.

As we prepare for the new year, I'd ask, particularly those of us in any kind of educational leadership: are we creating districts in which people trust one another?
And if not, what are we doing about that?