Thursday, April 28, 2011

Why I didn’t mind spending two hours on something that’s “not my job”

This week we’ve been doing STAR testing at my school.  It is the battery of standardized tests used to measure how good a school and its teachers are.  I will eventually post a tirade of sorts on the many reasons STAR tests don’t really do what they're supposed to but that’s for another time.  This is a story about me realizing how much the old adage, “leadership is service,” is true.

Administering these tests is a bit of a bureaucratic nightmare.  Every student takes between two and five tests on different subjects.  Each subject has a number of different tests the student may take (different kinds of math, science, and history, for example).  You have to figure out who’s taking what test, where they’re taking it, get the right booklets and answer documents in the right spots, make sure the correct bubbles are filled in…there’s a lot to it. 

Tuesday was day two of the testing and most of our students had finished all their tests but we still had about sixty left.  Some had just one part of one test to do, others had three full tests.  Other students had no tests left.  We had to figure out how to schedule the next day.  What teachers would give tests?  What tests did students still have to take?  What was the best way to schedule the test takers?  What if they finished the tests before our brunch break – where do they go then?  What about the kids who don’t have any tests?  How can we schedule them so they are able to do fruitful work?  These questions and more presented themselves, and I found myself working with Wendy, the teacher who runs point on these things, to sort it all out.

We spent a little over two hours, along with one other teacher, sorting all this out.  Wendy is a real live teacher.  She has all the responsibilities a real live teacher does, but she’s taken it upon herself to organize the standardized testing process at our school.  This is a crazy amount of work that is usually done by administrators like Vice Principals – but we don’t have those at our school.  So Wendy volunteers to do it, and she does a great job.

There was no command or directive given to me and the other teacher that helped Wendy sort that stuff out.  We all had other things to do that weren’t getting done.  We were all frustrated and flummoxed (it is so awesome that I just used that word) by the process as we tried to sort through the spreadsheets, schedules, and test booklets.  But we did it – even though our boss never “told us to do it” and it wasn’t in our job description.  And I realized, somewhere towards the end, that a few things were true about this situation:

At no point in the process was I frustrated at other people for not doing it.

When I do things out of a sense of obligation or “I have to” or even frustration that “well someone has to do it,” that experience is almost always accompanied by some measure of frustration and annoyance.  I spend my time wondering what important things other people have to attend to that keeps them from helping.  I think of how awesome I am that I’m doing it and they’re not, and I hope they realize what a favor I’m doing them by bearing this burden for them.  None of these thoughts occurred to me. This is not because I’m a moral exemplar.  I noticed it because it's out of the ordinary. 

I was following a leader without her even asking me to.

A big part of the reason I wasn’t bugged was because I had the distinct sense that I was helping take some of the load off of Wendy – and it was my pleasure to do so.  But it wasn’t a charity thing.  She was leading the way – it was going to be done whether or not I helped – and I wanted to be a part of it.  She had cast no vision, she had recruited no volunteers – but I wanted to help because of who she is.  This helped me internalize something I’ve heard for years:

Leadership is influence and servanthood, not position and organizational power.

Wendy’s job title is “teacher,” just like most of us.  Ask anybody at our school and they will tell you Wendy loves them.  How do they know?  Not because she says it (although that is true).  It’s because she takes a genuine interest in people.  She asks about their life.  She shares her own.  She asks for ways to help.  She offers suggestions in a tactful way that makes it clear she only wants to be a blessing if you want her to.  She asks for your suggestions and input, making it clear that no matter where you land on the organizational power spectrum that she can learn something from you.  She volunteers to take work on her shoulders and happily does it.  She doesn’t guilt people into helping – she just makes it happen.

These are all the things a leader does.  Wendy would probably balk a little at being described as such, but I’m learning a lot about leadership by watching her example.  She could benefit from being more willing to ask others for help, but here’s the thing: if they don’t help she’s not bitter about it.

She’s built influence unconsciously through the way she shows care for others on a daily basis, and the way she pushes forward to get the job done.  This isn’t a deliberate effort on her part to build influence and be a leader – it’s just who she is.   

Leadership is the fruit of who you are.

Too often I think of leadership as a set of skills that allows me to build influence and accomplish goals.  That leads to insincere relationships and frustration when others don’t do what you want them to.  I see in Wendy something I aspire to: genuine care and investment in others.  She doesn’t do it thinking it makes her a good leader.  She never read a book that says the real way to gain influence with people is to show that you care.  It’s just who she is.  The fruit of that is people sacrificing to serve with her – and honestly to serve her a little bit.  I think STAR tests are stupid and I don’t believe in them, but because I believe in Wendy I was willing to do it.

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