Lessons Learned in the Principal’s Office

I got called to the principals office.

It was my seventh year of teaching. I was teaching a class of third grade students and my principal was walking down the hall, asking each of us if we had completed entering our grades for the week in the online gradebook.

The expectation was that we submit one grade per subject per week, making for a total of ten grades per subject per quarter.

Honestly, it was a pretty reasonable expectation.

Also, I hadn’t met it.

When she came to my room to talk to me about it, I handled it about as well as my seven year old handles any inquiries into his screen time usage.

“Look,” I said, “It’s a super busy time and we are being asked to do so many things.”

If memory serves, I went on to give a very convincing argument for why the expectation was unreasonable and therefore I was justified in not having met it. My principal heard me and said, “OK, I understand. I’ll look at how much is on your plate.” And she walked away.

Success. Point argued and won. Right?

Well, not exactly. Later that morning my principal called me into her office.

“Rachel, I wanted to talk with you about our conversation this morning. I hear you about how much is on your plate right now and I think you’re right. I’ve been thinking a lot about it and you made a good point. There’s a lot that is being expected of you right now.”

So far so good.

“I also wanted to talk to you because I think that part of why you were upset is because when I asked you about your grades being entered, you knew you hadn’t done them, and you got mad that I called you out about it.”

Damn.

There I was in the principal’s office, a grown woman, with all my stuff laid out on the table. And she was right. She was completely right.

What sticks with me about this moment, apart from the master class it is on having difficult conversations, is that it was the first and possibly only time I remember being truly coached by one of my principals.

I had been applauded and evaluated. I had been reprimanded and I had been recommended. But it was the first time a principal took the time to really teach me.

I still think of it as one of the most formative learning moments in my career.

When I think back on that moment, I realize that she could have left the conversation in the hallway. It would have been a lot easier. It would have been what I would have been tempted to do.

She also could have come back in anger or with a note in my file.

Possibly worst of all, she could have brushed it aside. She could have brushed me aside.

But she didn’t do any of those things.

My principal cared enough about me to want me to do and be better. So with kindness and without shaming, she held a mirror up for me and asked me to take a better look.

I have been coaching people for over six years now, and I often find myself coming back to this moment.

Not only did that conversation in the office make me a better person, it has made me a better coach.

My principal taught me that my job isn’t to judge or to flatter. My job isn’t to ignore or to criticize. My job isn’t even to solve other people’s problems.

My job is to care about people and want them to be better. And then to hold up a mirror.

(And thank you, Mrs. Reeves)