A couple of months ago, I had a conversation with another leader who was listening to some of my frustrations about how the school year was going. This school year is unique as we just opened a new building with over 450 students in kindergarten through eighth grade, consolidating three different elementary and middle campuses from different neighborhoods across New York. While there are always challenges in leadership, opening a new facility brings its own set of twists and turns.
In this conversation, I shared that I was frustrated about our staff culture and morale. Amid consolidation and changes to our school structure, we experienced multiple staff leaving. We often discuss the negative impact of high teacher turnover on students, but when people leave a school community, everyone feels it. Staff are expected to fill in the gaps, and leaders have to come up with contingency plans to ensure that students are still getting instruction. I felt helpless — there were so many factors outside of my control that made teachers decide to leave. In response, she said something so simple that profoundly changed my thinking at that moment: their morale is your morale.
At first, I thought, obviously. But when she probed me about what was at the root of how I was feeling — and my own feelings about the job — I didn’t know why I was feeling the way I was feeling. So, we sat together and wrote down all the things that I felt were getting in the way of being able to turn things in a different direction for my school on a whiteboard. Some of the curriculum materials we purchased had not yet been delivered. Our schoolwide systems, like arrival and dismissal, needed adjusting now that we had spent a few weeks in our new building. We were over-enrolled by almost 100 students. Some issues were technical challenges we were already working to solve, and others had less apparent solutions.
Once I finally felt that I had written everything down, she asked me what was the biggest thing impacting my own feelings about the job. I scanned the list and eventually landed on something that caused a lump to form in my throat. I knew the thing that was making me feel the worst, but I didn’t want to admit it. It felt hard to do anything about staff morale when my morale was taking a hit because of the turnover. I didn’t want to appear weak or emotional. But I also knew it would be unproductive to sit in my feelings of defeat rather than get to the root of my challenges.
I grew up in a failing public school district. I had some teachers who seemed distant and unprepared. I also had teachers who built relationships with us as students, held us to high expectations, and built a joy for learning. I know how devastating a mediocre teacher can be for a child’s future and how powerful an excellent teacher can be. There is a saying I believe in when it comes to hiring: There is no such thing as a unicorn. No one person you hire will ever be perfect or a silver bullet for a tough situation, and it’s unfair to expect that. But when I hire someone, it’s because I believe that person has a contribution to make to our community and our kids. I don’t believe in hiring someone to be a warm body in a classroom.
Circumstances Beyond My Control
It is easy as a leader to distance yourself from resignations on your team. I have seen countless memes and pithy LinkedIn posts that advance the narrative that people don’t quit organizations; they quit leaders. I felt like I was failing my students and staff as a leader because teachers were leaving. I felt defensive about it. When people started leaving, it felt like I was not doing a good job — or maybe that I was not working hard enough.
The unfortunate truth is that, in addition to the unique challenges my school was facing, we are also dealing with a teacher shortage across the education sector. It’s hard to find good people. Sometimes, people just aren’t aligned with the vision of the school. Sometimes, people have life circumstances that lead them in a different direction in their careers. These are the things we tell ourselves when we deal with resignation, and while they are true, they don’t erase the sting of tough teacher transitions. In the days and weeks after our conversation, I continued to ruminate on why these resignations impacted me so much.
Despite what it may look like sometimes to those we lead, as principals, there is a lot that is not in our immediate control. Then why do I feel so hurt or frustrated when dealing with high turnover? Because even though there are plenty of things I cannot control, I still have a responsibility. I feel a responsibility for putting the right person in front of kids every day.
Failing Forward
The truth is, I don’t have all the answers, and I’m not the only principal – or leader, for that matter – to have challenges with staff retention. Some business leaders have tracked the so-called “Great Resignation” back nearly a decade, even before the pandemic. This essay isn’t about whether I agree with that principle or why people resign. No, this is about how challenging it is to deal with the shame of experiencing resignations and how I am learning to cope with moments of failure in leadership.
My colleague was supportive and understanding. As school leaders, we go through this. She pushed me not to be so hard on myself, which I have been known to do. I am learning from this experience that it’s important to have balance. It’s okay to admit that a transition on your team is disappointing. The reason failure feels so hard for me to accept in this work is because of how important and personal it is. Without acknowledging the moments where I am falling short of my own expectations, I deny myself the opportunity to grow and get better. My job as a school leader is to create the conditions for my students and teachers to achieve every day while trying my best to navigate those circumstances that are out of my control. To do this, I cannot dwell on shame or failure for too long because it distracts me from my larger vision. I have to focus on what is within my locus of control and aligned with my purpose as a leader, which is to work toward building excellent schools for my students.
