How the Job Has Changed: Thirty Years a Principal

Kids are kids, and they’re the great constant in my profession. They're honest, quirky, hard-working, and lazy-- rascally at times, but then again,  sometimes charming. They appreciate attention, like to be teased, but want to be taken seriously. They're the reason I've been a principal for so long.  

Even so, the job has changed since I first started as principal in 1989. For one, families have undergone significant changes: no longer is there an army of mothers who can volunteer at the school as in years past. Schools must fill in by increasing the size of administrative staffs to compensate. 

I was speaking recently to a relative of mine from a different city,  and she was unhappy with her daughter's principal. The principal “doesn’t know the children” and “doesn’t communicate well.” I asked her how big the school was, and she said about 600 kids. Guessing, I asked her if the "administrative staff" was part of the problem--the "assistant principals, finance director, advancement director, receptionist or office manager.” She looked at me blankly, and said “What do you mean? It’s the principal and her secretary.” I had guessed correctly. “Not possible anymore," I said.  "They could be amazing, but it's too much for two people. That’s the problem.” 

I don’t think people fully appreciate this fact.  A friend of mine, a well-regarded principal of a large elementary school, told me that recently she was helping in the school parking lot at dismissal time and was approached by a mother.  She asked the principal if her daughter seemed to be responding well to the recent change in medication dosages.   Wisely, the principal said "I only see your daughter briefly each day. Send me an email, " she said, "to remind me to check with her teachers who are with her each day."  The principal later admitted to me , smiling, that she had no idea who the mother was, much less the child she was talking about, and looked forward to getting the email to find out!

Parents love that principals are in classrooms, walk the hallways,  and are seen frequently in the school parking lots or playgrounds.  They want the principal to know their child personally! But they also want the principal to have relationships with donors and members of the community,  so as to raise money effectively.  They may grumble if they don’t see the principal at enough athletic events.  This "inside-outside" tug of war is felt by every principal I know. 

Parents, of course, have always had high expectations. But the difference is that since both parents are now working, the team of magnificent mothers who used to volunteer—women who would plan and execute events, cover classes, give sage counsel, help with mailings, know when to intervene and when to stand back— are not able to help us as much anymore, and these functions must be now be absorbed by the school. Too often, we’ve not added to our staffs proportionately, leading to stressed out secretaries, administrators and unhappy parents. There's not enough of us, in many cases, to go around. 

Parents, too, have changed. Perhaps less certain of their relationships with their children, they feel a more urgent need to “defend” their child against a teacher who grades in a challenging way, or who may tell their child a blunt truth. When I first began as principal my  “go to” talk with teenagers for minor transgressions was “Can I expect that we will settle this matter now, between us, or do we need to involve your parents, too?” “No, please don’t involve my parents, “ the teen would plead. “I’ll do better.” But for many teens today, that is no longer a threat. One teen girl brazenly said to me not so long ago: “Please call them. They will take my side.” She was right! I find myself in meetings with parents today that I rarely had twenty years ago. In a previous school, I asked a long time Dean of Students how his job had changed over the years. He was quick to answer: a big portion of his day is now talking with parents, helping them accept or support the school’s discipline for their child, and counseling them how to handle their child at home. 

Another big difference: Schools must be much more intentional about communications, even while navigating the various platforms that parents use.  Would that all used the same social media platforms, but we don’t!  And because there is SO much competition for our attention, it’s hard for schools to “box out under the basket” to grab hold of parents’ attention. 

It’s a sign of the times: we email out a weekly newsletter, keep 2 updated school calendars (for athletics and other events), have 3 active social media sites,  stock full of pictures and events, keep current a beautiful, information-laden web page, and make grades available to both parents and students on line, “24/7.”  But on every survey I’ve ever conducted in the last 15 years, parents inevitably say “The school needs to improve its communications.” 

It was somewhere in the late 1990’s when email became the common means of communicating. I remember it was hailed as a huge time saver, and indeed it was: Instead of hand writing a letter, giving it to my secretary to type, letting me check the typed letter for mistakes, and then making “white out” corrections—a process that could take two people a combined 60 minutes of work—I could rip off an email in 5 minutes and never involve anyone else. 

But we all know what happened next, right? We bury each other with emails, and expect the recipient to respond quickly!  I now spend nearly two hours a day simply responding to 50-100 emails I get (and I never spent that much time writing letters)! 

In fact, I find myself spending much more time behind the desk, which sounds, intuitively, to be a bad thing, but I’m convinced it’s probably wise.  Part of it is email,  but part of it is generating content for social media sites, or school publications, or how we describe ourselves on web pages or school brochures. It’s telling many stories! Language matters, and often, we in Catholic schools don’t spend enough time crafting our words or our written speech to communicate the fantastic things our schools can do in our kids’ lives. And if we don’t fill the spaces with good news—nature does indeed abhor a vacuum; people will fill the silence with gossip and negativity. 

One thing hasn't changed:  In the end, it’s still about relationships! The most effective way to address an unpleasant email is not to send back a witty refutation, but to invite that person to meet with you. It’s always been that way. But in an odd sort of way, these meetings may prove more effective than they’ve ever been before: I’ve found people are TRULY grateful that we’re taking the time to meet with them, given how rare face to face meetings have become. That gives us some momentum for a meeting of the minds, or at least, a detente!