Steering the Ship

Guest blog by Liz. D. Bennett, Secondary English Language Arts Coordinator in Mansfield ISD.

Jay Shetty’s words on the Daily Jay described a trend in education that for a long time I associated with trepidation: goal setting. I remember returning one August to the campus’ back-to-school meeting. The excitement I felt was overshadowed by the presentation that was on display. The title slide read, “Campus One Thing.” I had no idea what a one thing was, but I already got the feeling it would impact my entire year. To keep a long story short, the campus one thing was our goal for the year. It was the one thing that a principal should focus on that would create gains for the campus. There is nothing inherently wrong about establishing goals and holding high expectations, but as the year unfurled, the one thing dominated my life: increasing exam scores. My classroom was an endless rotating door of visitors, as the administrative team conducted their learning walks, documenting the implementation of the one thing. I sat in countless planning meetings, calibration sessions, and data discussions. I won’t argue that it made me a better teacher, but I was fortunate in that regard, not everyone is. 

Establishing a deliberate goal, a destination if you will, could close gaps, so long as leadership steers us towards our goal. In order for a one thing to be successful, it needs an unceasing, vigilant captain at the wheel. Sometimes we have a destination in mind, but we have no idea how to steer the ship towards it, resulting in avoidance rather than approaching our goal. 

Avoidance Goals

Avoidance goals are similar to punishment avoidance. In other words, we decide to strive towards a thing in order to avoid a negative consequence. While approaching goals are about embracing the journey, rather than just getting to the end result. Let’s take a closer look through the lens of students. 

Avoidance goals are no different than students submitting their work on time, in order to avoid a grade penalty. When I taught AP Literature, I was struck by the motivation my students had. Earning College Credit was a huge motivator, but it wasn’t the only reward students were scrambling towards–academic scholarships, class rank, and even reputations all played a pivotal role. Being an excellent student was an identity for my students and the pressure was high. It might shock some people to learn that these students had charted a very clear course towards a goal, usually a college of choice and a career.  

Like most secondary teachers, I worried about what all of this pressure was really doing to the health of my students, but I marveled at their ability to set and move towards clearly defined goals. Some of their goals were quite lofty, some were filled with hope, and yes, some were unrealistic, but they had them and they had some ideas of how to move towards them. In other words, they had a map, a route, and sometimes a compass to guide them along the way. 

As a teacher, one of my goals was to produce better writers. The writing was formulaic and would not garner the results students needed in order to achieve their goals of earning college credit. Ironically, they told me they would be willing to take risks, if they weren’t so risky to take. I took a cue from Whose Line Is It Anyway and started implementing Drew Carey’s infamous line, “the points are made up and the scores don’t matter,” because in the end, they really don’t. It’s not as if we submit a H.S. transcript in order to qualify for a home loan, or to buy a car, or to get married. Once we cross that stage, that chapter is firmly closed.  

At first glance, that probably seems irresponsible when class rank still impacts school admission and some potential scholarships. It wasn’t that students couldn’t earn grades that reflected their work. It was that rather than penalizing students, I began to reward them for their progress. This required a monumental shift in classroom culture and more work for all involved. Rather than handing back rubrics with scores and setting a due date for corrections, we studied examples that peers had produced. We quantified what made them good, identified steps that could be reproduced, listened to the peers that were doing well, and then everyone was invited to make improvements. The shift was almost immediate: Rather than students correcting their work to earn a grade, they were improving their work because they wanted to get better, because there was suddenly hope that they were making strides towards their destination: college credit. Without realizing it, we had charted a clear journey, if you will, towards a tangible destination: They were moving from an avoidance goal, avoiding a failing grade, towards an approaching goal, understanding how to write, which would give them a fighting chance on the AP exam and in college. 

The game changer boiled down to three things: (a) Safety nets: We created an environment where risk taking was rewarded, not punished. (B) Feedback: Students gained constant, constructive feedback that tied directly toward their goal. (C) Buy in: Students contributed to the class discussions and helped identify areas of need. As the expert in the room, I determined what we did next to address those areas of need. That was the fun part! Now did every student gain college credit. No, because not every student started in the same place, but did every student make progress–absolutely! Essentially, we steered the ship in the right direction.

How do we apply this to a campus? How do we, as instructional leaders, given everything we’re facing, motivate our team of educators towards running to a goal, rather than from it? 

Approaching Goals

Let’s continue to leverage the insight students offer: My students had a common vision, which was earning college credit. While I like to think they grew comfortable with poetry, and maybe found a favorite one, at the end of the year they expected to sit for the AP College Board exam and have a fighting chance. 

This is similar to the one thing. As a leader, principals consider the needs of students and the campus. Based on these needs, they establish a goal (a destination) and chart a path to get there. In my district, principals present these plans, along with their data, their progress monitoring protocols, and more. However, mid-way through the year, most plans unravel after making contact with teams of teachers. As principals presented their mid-way point check-in for their one thing, I found myself reflecting: were they running towards a goal, or running away, avoiding the destination, lost at sea? The tell-tale signs of leaders who approached goals versus leaders who avoided them became very clear during these mid-way check-ins. 

Let’s consider the three elements towards approaching a gold:  

1. Common Vision: Get On Board 

Just like the AP Literature students were united in their efforts to gain college credit, teachers have to be united in the campus goal. Every step, every action, must move the campus towards that goal. If we muddy the waters, if we pile on additional things, if we shift the goal post too many times, we lose our team of teachers. If we take the time to establish a common vision in August, we must stay consistent and remind ourselves and teachers of that common vision. The AP Literature students were very good at reminding themselves and me of the common vision. The date of the College Board exam was on my calendar. We even made a countdown in the spring. This kept me honest. If I only had twelve class sessions left, they had to count. My students didn’t want “fluff,” they wanted my best in those twelve class sessions. 

How does this translate into leadership? : 

I sat with a team recently who couldn’t make heads or tails of their one thing. Considering that it’s March, I was alarmed. How could they suddenly lose sight of their one thing? The team had definitely had their back-to-school meetings in August and had even engaged in a short, tailored professional development session for their one thing. I know, because I designed and delivered it. However, since the beginning of October, there had been no follow ups, no additional check-ins, no clarifying meetings on progress and progress measures, and no follow up professional development to support this one thing.

Instead, the team had been dragged through the mud through random data meetings; meetings that were sometimes scheduled on a Friday afternoon, meetings that appeared on their calendars before a major deadline. The not-so-good-type that involved finger-pointing and blame. Since the initial goal setting in August, new goals had emerged, but the team had not been informed. Instead the team was held accountable for the shifting goal post. How did the new goal come about? I couldn’t answer this question. It was news to me and I was the district specialist that should have been partnered with the principal to offer support and yet I was in the dark. It wasn’t that we had several stops added to our destination. It was as if the destination, the goal, had been forgotten entirely. The teachers felt like they were lost at sea, and so did I. 

As I reflected, it occurred to me that the problem was that we were running from the one thing, rather than towards a one thing. There were many issues on this campus, many possible one things. It wasn’t that this principal didn’t want to communicate what the focus was, but rather that they wanted to fix all of the issues now. They wanted to fix everything and had too many measures in place. Anytime the principal uncovered an issue, a new goal was established and piled on top of pre-existing goals. Essentially the administrative team wanted a fleet of ships.  

As an administrative team, they had lost sight of their vision and goal, of how long it would take to create effective and lasting change. Principals are absolutely under severe pressure to produce results and that pressure trickles into campus culture and impacts classrooms. More often than not, the battle is staying consistent and communicating the common goal. It’s not that the goal can’t change–of course it can be revised. Goals can be modified, but we must communicate when and how that occurs if we want “the crew” to continue to work efficiently. In other words, being the captain that steers the ship means keeping a clear route in mind. 

2. Safety Nets: All Hands on Deck

Do teachers have the freedom to try something new and fail? This team did not think so. This team had been dinged in walk through observations, they had been torn apart in data meetings, and if engagement and instruction didn’t fit into a certain parameter, it was deemed bad. In other words, the ship wasn’t moving and it was their fault the winds had died down. 

Rather than partnering with teachers to approach the goal, the principal and administrative team was running away from the consequences of not reaching the goal because there were too many goals to reach. They gathered evidence for why the goal wasn’t working in the hopes that upper administration would feel sympathetic and accept that the students, the teachers, the feeder pattern, the finances, the weather, the ship, the whatever, were all to blame. Fear drove the one thing and no one was willing to batten down the hatches and ride the wave.  

Do we celebrate progress no matter how small? Even if the progress is underwhelming, it’s still progress. And no matter how small, we can document growth, we can prove we are approaching a goal. Which really brings us to the idea of a deadline. For my AP Literature students, their deadline was May. For a campus we can take a breath and ensure that we have given ourselves enough time to make strides, which in some cases can take years. It can take up to five years before we see the fruits of our labor. If the journey is going to be a long one, I say we prepare with enough provisions, rather than switching our goal year-to-year. We plan rounds of ongoing professional development; we create descriptors of success for year one, year two, year three, etc; we establish protocols and guidelines for collecting data; we create a timeline with regular check-ins; and we communicate so much that every teacher on the campus is invested and can share the vision of the campus to all stakeholders. 

Rather than being afraid to explain this to upper administration, I think we need to remember that they have also sat in the captain’s chair. Upper Administration was looking for a clear, mapped out journey, not a silver bullet.  

3. Feedback: Giving Wide Berth

Are we providing real feedback, or sweeping generalizations? Does that feedback get us back on track, running towards our goal? This goes back to the idea of establishing descriptors, protocols, and timelines. Teachers aren’t deliberately sabotaging campus goals. They certainly don’t want to sit in meetings just to be blamed. What they require is communication. 

The most successful campuses have leaders, who have a system of clear communication. In AP Literature, College Board provided that communication with clearly defined skills my students needed to master, along with rubrics that have descriptors and ranges of success. I utilized this to give my students specific feedback. If the captain of the ship doesn’t have a clear vision with attainable descriptors of success, how can he/she provide actionable feedback? 

Consider what a crew needs to know in order to turn the corner? You may find they’re on board if they receive regular updates about how the campus is progressing. What’s working? What’s not working? Without feedback, teachers will continue operating in the only way they know how, which may feel like sabotage or a lack of compliance.

Something to consider is that we must leave room to maneuver when the feedback indicates a slight change to our course. This can be frustrating, but it is definitely part of staying right on track. If the feedback is generic, that doesn’t help anyone attain a skill, or get to the next stage. As a result, you lose time and that wasted time can lead us back to avoidance. Feedback only works if we have hope that we can get to the next step. In other words, what does the compass tell us? Do we know where we’re going? Can I trust you to get me there? If not, I’ll find a different ship that can get me to that destination. 

Approaching Our Destination 

In no way am I claiming that this is the magic formula, but it will help us turn the corner. My high school students have taught me that they are willing to work towards something when it is clearly communicated and there is hope. Teachers are no different.

My hope is that our instructional leaders take a collective breath and then a long, deep exhalation. Look around at all of the maps, constellation charts, weather reports and slowly file them away. Take a moment, or several moments, to consider what is the destination for your campus? How do we get there? Be realistic about what it will take and what skills does your crew have, versus what skills they will need? Gather what you need: the people, the supplies, the protocols to run a tight ship. 

Will there be obstacles along the way–of course! I expect nothing short of epic battles at sea, because the map does say, “here there be monsters.” But we’re educators. Monsters don’t scare us. Monsters should be scared of us. 

Plot your course, and with confidence and time, steers towards it.