Professional Application, Research Paper Example

Abstract

The process of entering an unfamiliar school in the role of principal is an implicitly daunting one, and a variety of social, ethical, and cultural challenges will most certainly be encountered. Leadership in an educational environment demands levels of understanding and sensitivity as essential as the pragmatic, supervisory skills required by the position, and the new principal must learn the terrain even as he steps in to exercise authority over it. The added component of replacing a popular administrator who has died renders this assuming of command an even more complex affair, one marked by a greater presence of emotional factors. In such a scenario, only a tempered awareness and acknowledgment of the unique circumstance can ease the transition process. In confronting and respecting the realities, emotional and practical, the new principal establishes a respected presence through consideration and a simultaneous focus on the school’s immediate needs.

Overview of the Scenario

A principal with any experience at all in guiding a school has a clear sense of the many aspects the position manifests. Ordinary preconceptions to the contrary, he has come to understand in the course of his work how administrative responsibilities and obligations to the less tangible elements of the school are not mutually exclusive arenas; rather, they dramatically influence one another, and in the daily life of the continually evolving environment that is a school. Education, at any level, is an intensely personal experience, and the principal must always be mindful that his decisions, even of the most strictly administrative kind, eventually translate to that intimate, and crucially important, experience.

In my circumstance, I am entering into a middle school that has just lost its esteemed and well-liked principal through death. This individual had been in place as principal for eight years and, in scholastic life, the span is appreciably lengthy; students entering in the early grades have graduated under his authority, young people have replaced them, and this generational component must have served to substantiate the presence this principal enjoyed. It is as well likely, as happens in such situations, that the regard he enjoyed was exponentially enlarged; as the teachers relied upon and respected him, so too were the students influenced along these favorable lines.

My task is difficult, and a further issue of which I have been made aware is that the principal’s demise and my assuming the position are factors falling within a week of the school’s spring achievement testing. The timing is, all things considered, unfortunate at best. Nonetheless, I do not regard this task as insurmountable, by any means. In fact, as I approach my entry into this school, I perceive that the challenges inherent in the circumstances may well provide extraordinary opportunities.

I understand, first and foremost, that my job is to help this school succeed. To accomplish this, I must enter into it with both a commitment to enabling superior school performance and, just as crucially, an openness to understand the social and emotional state of the school as a whole. I must, in effect, learn as I go, for to take on this role with a preconceived plan of action would indicate a severe disregard for those under my charge, and quite possibly undermine my best intentions, as the school’s realities may greatly differ from my expectations. In a very real sense, my homework lies before me, and it is of a kind I may only complete as instruction comes to me.

Ethical Considerations

As I contemplate this transition, it appears evident to me that the greatest issue I must accept, and consequently address, is that of the ethics surrounding my entry into this troubled school. How I approach this is pivotal, as the ethics I determine to be in place will then dictate how I may most effectively deal with the social and cultural repercussions and opportunities inherent in this unique situation.

In a general sense, I am faced with a dilemma as old as humanity, that of supplanting a known and cared for person. An irrefutable fact lies before me, one defined succinctly as “…the rational impossibility of replacing a human being” (Schwab, 2010, p. 124). As is commonly understood, it cannot be done. Societies bury kings and families bury parents, and the necessities and emotional motivations that demand replacement do little to eviscerate the impact of the deceased. I am aware that my circumstance is neither as intimate as that of the mourning family, nor as culturally impactful as that of a people gripped by a national loss and urgently in need of an heir, as it were, to the throne. Nonetheless, and in ethical terms, the same components of grief are manifested and play substantial roles in how I may be perceived.

Respect, as I consider it, is the key, and by this I refer to the respect I must evince to the teachers, the students, and to the greater community. It may be argued that assuming my duties with a stoic focus on only the educational realities present would best serve the school. There is validity to this approach; it confirms my status as a newcomer, and one who cannot truly empathize with the loss felt by the school, and it reinforces the strategic and authoritative requirements of the position. The former, in fact, conveys a tacit regard for the feelings I may not genuinely understand, and this in itself is a form of emotional response. The latter, clearly, cannot be impugned because it is what I am ultimately in place to accomplish.

I am disinclined, however, to take so narrow a course. Grief is in intricate matter, always, yet one reliable component to it is the absolute need it has to be acknowledged. As disastrous, and most likely insulting, it would be for me to enter into the school expressing an inappropriate degree of sorrow for the passing of someone I certainly never knew,  it would be perceived as equally disrespectful for me to ignore whatever levels of feeling surround this principal’s death. Ethically, I am bound to demonstrate respect for these feelings, for a failure to do so would be interpreted as an immediate withholding of respect for these people with whom I must interact, and rely upon.

Moreover, as I enter into this school prepared to demonstrate an appropriate sensitivity to its state of mourning, I must fully anticipate that, as in other arenas of life, the grief I witness will take a wide variety of forms. A middle school is a relatively complex organization, and I expect to encounter complex layers of reaction to this principal’s unexpected demise. There will most likely be excessive grief displayed by the teachers and staff who worked most closely with him, as it is equally probable that the student body, with exceptions running to either extreme, will be uniformly saddened in the manner adolescents typically are, when death comes near to home; that is, there is ordinarily confusion infusing the other emotional elements of insouciance, suppressed sadness, and something like mistrust.

As inherently impossible to foresee as these responses will be, it is all the more imperative I maintain a “middle-ground” of response myself. It may evolve that, in short order, I will hear opinions of the deceased principal not favorable to his memory, just as I will most certainly be privy to effusive expressions of his better qualities. My position is not to judge emotion, or the various emotional aftermaths of the death. My obligation is to accept it as much as possible, for grief in any manifestation, and even that of denial and/or latent dislike, requires space in which to be expressed. For the good of the school and to better implement the progress we need to achieve, I must allow this. In accepting what is placed before me in these terms, I facilitate the process and assist in the ending of the grief: “Because the grieving process is intensified when closure does not occur, it is advisable to work toward closure in our relationships with others” (Zastrow, Kirst-Ashman, 2009, p. 630).

Another ethical consideration is at play here, however, and it is one as imperative as my need to be sensitive to the mourning stages. It relates to the ethics of my position itself, and to the responsibilities I have consented to take on, and I may not permit grieving to eclipse the actual functioning of the school. This is, in essence, the ethical line I must tread from the onset of my entry into the school, for to set aside the purpose of my placement there would be as disrespectful to the school as an utter disregard for the sadness which has overtaken them.

This, in fact, is something I plan to articulate to the teachers and the staff, as will be more definitively outlined shortly. It is historically a fact, and a rather intimidating one, that a degree of diplomatic skill is necessary under such complex and emotional circumstances; the person in my position, that of stepping into a leadership role vacated by death, must manage to convey sincere appreciation for all that the deceased meant to the organization, yet simultaneously make clear that the work must continue. This, I believe, can be best conveyed by affirming to the teachers and staff that the duty to go on and do the best for the school was a hallmark of their late principal’s persona, and that to diminish this responsibility, even in grief, would be a sad and disrespectful manner of expressing loss. If this principal was indeed honored and well-liked, it was largely due to the commitment to the school we must now carry on.

Not unexpectedly, the greatest challenge for me in relating these sentiments lies in honest expression free from cliché. Even a trace of insincerity detected by those experiencing a loss is anathema to them, and there is an apologetic component in this task before me. Like an apology, I am obligated to relate a level of authentic understanding which must be taken on faith, and my intent must be both unequivocally focused on the realities of those around me, as well as sympathetic. I am in place to bring this school back together as a whole, as it were, and stabilize what has become undone, and a poor presentation of my attitude  “…may escalate destabilization if…it is viewed as insincere, belated, grudging, or even insulting” (Steyaert, Van Looy, 2010, p. 104).

Ethically, then, I approach this on what I believe to be a firm platform. As stated, I cannot in any meaningful way know the degrees and range of emotional response to the principal’s demise I will encounter.  However, by adhering to a determination to observe, then respond, I give whatever grieving is at play an appropriate freedom of expression, even as I assimilate it and gauge, as I must, how to lead my school into moving beyond it.

Social and Cultural Issues

A factor in this situation that benefits me, albeit as viewed in a perhaps cold-blooded fashion, is how the role of principal itself typically impacts on the life of a school. It is unique, certainly, and the benefit to me derives from its authority, which implies distance. More precisely, the role of principal enjoys what I prefer to think of as the luxury of perspective.

Any school’s culture is composed of the vital, mutable elements brought to it by faculty and student body. Neither, essentially, wields more influence in cultural terms than the other, yet the acknowledged thrust of what defines the culture, or the living environment, arises from the teaching staff: “The most influential part of a culture is the people that comprise the school, and the most influential people… are usually teachers” (Guthrie, Schuermann, 2010, p. 114). The teachers are intermediaries and leaders, subordinates and chief instruments, and are ultimately the source of the school’s productivity.

They are as well the connecting element between the administration and the student body and, in this particular circumstance, they are my most promising aides in moving the school through this difficult period. This cannot be achieved, however, with my exercising a keen awareness of how each teacher maintained a relationship with the former principal. I must ascertain this as best I can, in my own process of immersing myself into the position, for these relationships will provide invaluable information as to how the school’s culture has evolved, what expectations are in place for the future, and what, if any, active measures need to be taken in regard to marking the career, and death, of my predecessor.

To employ an even more cold-blooded perspective, the measures of grief  I witness will tell me a great deal, and without any deliberate effort to gain the knowledge. My assumption, based on what has already been conveyed to me, is that the principal now gone was greatly liked. This of itself, however, reveals little. From it, too many further assumptions are possible; he may have been popular because he gave free rein to his teaching staff, or he may have enjoyed their friendship because he mandated strict controls which released them from unwelcome responsibilities. The principal sets the tone and the pace, through the teachers. In a reverse sort of strategy, then, I must seek to learn from their reactions to his death just how he orchestrated the life of the school, and to what degrees of success.

To this end, and as part of my planned approach, I am determined to conduct individual interviews with my teachers. As may be apparent, various social issues will be addressed in this process as well, for the inner workings of their interactions with the late principal will manifest themselves to me in how they approach me. A more casual mode of relationship will be evident as having been preferred by both parties if I am greeted in such a manner, as a history of formality will be evident if my teachers address me on such terms. They will, it is to be expected, simply respond to me as the new principal in the way in which the old principal set out as most desirable.

Before I even begin to assess how effective or worthwhile whatever social construct was in place with my predecessor, I have far more important work before me. Each teacher, spoken with privately, has a wealth of information to pass on, both consciously and otherwise. Each will convey their philosophies of teaching and their feelings regarding their profession in our school. I will as well, I am quite sure, hear of deficiencies in supplies, equipment, scheduling, and a host of other elements with which teachers must deal. This I accept expansively, if judiciously; from my experience, the teacher who does not want more support is the teacher who cares less. I am eager to learn of their ideas of their needs, even as I must inform them of school budget realities.

As the teachers will hear from me in no uncertain terms, I need them, as I need to understand what their own concerns are: “As the role of school principal has evolved from one of manager to instructional leader, the importance of teacher recruitment, retention, and development has become a more central priority” (Laine, Lasagna, 2010, p. 3). ore than ever in educational history, roles are changing and lines are blurring. In serving my new school as principal, I must serve the needs of my teachers.

If addressing my staff collectively will initially demand the skills of a diplomat, this part of my integration process will call upon a certain analytical ability. I may not take too much upon myself in this regard, and run the danger of drawing conclusions which may be wholly unjustified. As with my openness in taking in the state of mourning the school is in, I feel I must, first and foremost, listen. Later, I will be enabled to sift out the irrelevant or perhaps even untrue, equipped by further contact and increased experience within the school.

In speaking with my teachers individually, I automatically impart to them respect. This is something I feel obligated to set out from the start, for we can enjoy no good relations as professional educators if I, as the new leader, do not extend thus understanding. Most essential as regards the school’s current state of being, and with a necessary focus on the important examinations shortly occurring, I will inquire of each teacher their opinions on how the school may best achieve the greatest success under the circumstances. I have, in fact, a plan in mind, which will be defined shortly, and I am eager to learn how each teacher will respond to it.

Timing, I am well aware is a critical issue here. One week is a regrettably brief space of time for a school to accept the death of a principal, take in a new one, and simultaneously prepare for pivotal testing. Consequently, my strategy admits to this limitation, and the interviews I arrange with my teaching staff will be of necessity brief. Each, however, will nonetheless serve several valuable purposes: mutual respect will be exchanged, and subsequently taken as a given; a sense of the teacher’s feelings regarding both school and job will, at least partially, be made evident to me; and I can establish, with each interview, a further link in the chain of reuniting my staff after an adversity. They will understand that, while the terrain has shifted, we remain in place to carry out the goals which first inspired us to join the school. In this manner, social, cultural, and professional concerns meet and are, if, again, briefly, confronted and addressed.

Strategy and Plan

Given the conditions under which I am taking on my new position, marked by both a recent and impactful death of the school leader and an imminent and important examination phase for the students, I am committed to entering with an agenda both structured and open-ended. Only through this seemingly contradictory approach, I believe, can I address the school’s immediate concerns and commence my own involvement with it appropriately, and strongly.

As crucial as any specific action I have in mind to undertake is what, for lack of a better word, I must call my attitude. There will be emotional currents running through this school, perhaps even betrayed by a lack of actual emotion. There may be excess grief in evidence, or I may encounter a too rapid acceptance of the former principal’s death, which of itself indicates issues in the school’s history. I must enter into it with a willingness to listen and watch, and then take the time to assess the realities. Any premature expectation of a social or cultural condition would most likely impede, if not irreparably damage, my goals, both immediate and long-term. The school, the teachers, the staff, and the students will educate me as to how I may best proceed.

On a more tangible level, I will hold a meeting for myself, the administrative staff, and the teachers. This will not be lengthy, and it will be, in fact, less of a meeting and more of an introductory monologue. Given the parameters of timing we face, this must be arranged as quickly as possible, and within my first day or two. In other circumstances, I would prefer more time to acclimate before even setting up this introduction, but that is not a luxury I possess. What matters here is that I convey to these people my own sense of what they themselves are experiencing; namely, that one, extremely unfortunate state of flux must be followed directly by another, and that they must receive me into their social and professional midst before the shock of what requires my presence has time to dissipate. In relating this, all I can do is infuse it with sincerity, and never condescend to affirm that “I know how they feel”.

Then, I will orchestrate the personal interviews with the teachers, to be arranged as efficiently as the time constraints and their own schedules will permit. As stated, these will be my opportunities to assess the individual personalities, commitment levels, and concerns of each teacher. My agenda here, however, is also to empower them by requesting their insight; I feel that a school assembly is in order, in which I make myself known to the student body and address, as with the staff, the loss their school has so recently suffered, and my hope that excelling in the upcoming examinations will be their means of expressing admiration and affection for their former principal. I am set upon having this assembly, yet I know as well that each teacher may better guide me in how to go about it. They know the students, and they knew the principal; suggestions on approach, duration, and other elements of my assembly, even those I choose to discard, will be further, and valuable, information about the life of the school.

As to the assembly, I am aware that I have no time to inspire a great deal of increased study. Rather, I may use this opportunity to evince my respect for the students, even as I employ that respect as an incentive to urge them onto greater performance. I will assert that I have faith in their abilities, as I believe as well that they know they can do no greater honor to their late principal’s memory than by excelling on their work.

All of this strategy embodies the philosophy I bring to this assignment: in confronting and respecting the realities of this school, emotional and practical, the new principal establishes a respected presence through consideration and a simultaneous focus on the school’s immediate needs.

References

Guthrie, J. W., and Schuermann, P. (2010.) Leading Schools to Success: Constructing and Sustaining High-Performance Learning Cultures. Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE Publications, Inc.

Laine, S. W., and Lasagna, M. (2010.) Improving Teacher Quality: A Guide for Education Leaders. San Francisco, CA: John Wiley & Sons Publishers, Inc.

Schwab, G. (2010.) Haunting Legacies: Violent Histories and Transgenerational Trauma. New York, NY: Columbia University press.

Steyaert, C., and Van Looy, B. (2010.) Relational Practices, Participative Organizing. Bingley, UK: Emerald Group Publishing.

Zastrow, C., and Kirst-Ashman, K. K. (2009.) Understanding Human Behavior and the Social Environment. Belmont, CA: Cengage Learning.