You get to have it the way that you want it
It was really fun to go back into the classroom this past spring after a couple of years away.
Not only was it a Covid-era triumph to be face to face with a group of young people again, it was an opportunity to flex my leadership chops and see how they were functioning. Could I still create a container that would allow each person in the room to feel safe contributing, be heard, and learn?
And could I do it in such a way that I wasn’t totally drained at the end of the day?
That may seem like a tall order, but the truth is that it’s actually easier to create a classroom environment that functions well when it works for me and my needs as a leader first. In other words, if I ensured that I could feel safe and be heard, I would be in the best position to foster that experience for my students.
As a teacher, I have specific preferences because as a person, I have specific preferences. That doesn’t mean that I get to do what I want all the time. None of us do. But my classroom gets to be the way that I want it. I can manage it in a way that allows me to do my best work.
Though that could be construed as selfishness or self-centeredness, it’s not. This is the most important part: My classroom gets to be the way I want it to be so that I can show up with love and generosity and give all of my students what they need in order to be their best selves.
Ironically, it’s not about me. It’s about them.
So my students had to learn that when I’m leading a meeting, we don’t talk over each other and that I require silence when I’m speaking. They had to learn that if they wanted to speak, they could raise their hands. And they had to learn that if they were going to try to sneak in a joke at an inappropriate time, it better be one that made me laugh.
For most of you reading this, that’s going to seem normal. But to this generation of kids, who have spent 1/6 to 1/7 of their lives adapting to a global pandemic in which they’ve spent very little time in a classroom setting, it didn’t. As a matter of fact, these restrictions seemed harmful and draconian to them, and they pushed back harder than any group I’ve seen in my twenty-plus years in education.
That reaction caused me to question whether the way I had always done things was still workable. Was I old and out of touch? Did I have to do it their way instead of my own after all these years? And if I couldn’t have my classroom the way that I needed it to be, how would I survive the semester?
I did a lot of soul-searching, and I did make some adaptations. I handed off the music classes to another teacher who didn’t mind if the students played their instruments the whole time he was giving instruction. I shortened the morning and afternoon meetings. We gave the kids more time outdoors. And by mid-semester, we were able to make masks optional.
But then, I doubled down on challenging the students to conduct themselves courteously during those shorter group meetings. Not only was it necessary for me to do my best work, it was a skill they would need in any future school environment. And it was the only way to ensure that no student would be belittled or cut down by a casual comment made out of turn.
Complying with these standards remained difficult for the group all the way to the end of the semester, but they did it. They learned how. And I’m incredibly proud of them. By May, we had a group that could laugh together, listen to each other, collaborate, and connect. It was no longer “adults vs. kids.” We were a team.
Of course, I learned, too. I learned that I’m not always going to be given support and encouragement for getting my needs met. I learned that I can’t take it for granted that the people I’m leading understand that leadership is an act of service, not a power trip. Part of the work was to explicitly share with them what I was trying to do and why. Even more importantly, I needed to show them, consistently, that I cared.
Not every leader these students encounter will have the same requirements, but I hope they are able to come to each new situation with a measure of respect and courtesy, knowing that the person who has the floor has an important role to play. And I hope they still feel empowered to speak up and ask for what they need, too.
As a leader, you get to have things the way that you want them, whether that’s in a workplace or your own home. It may take you some experimentation to figure out the way that you want things to be, and not everyone is going to like it when you do. But that’s the best way for you to be able to show up and serve others with joy, confidence, and a sense of safety — and before too long, to allow them to do the same.