A Message from our Department Host

Dr. Nicholas J. Pace
Department Host & Professor of Educational Leadership

Several months ago, I felt incredibly fortunate to be selected to participate in the Provost's Leadership Academy at UNI. The group brought together an amazing group of faculty and staff from across the University to engage in a process of reflecting on the meaning and purpose of their work and build capacity to make differences in the lives of others.

We've met as a large group a couple times, in addition to some smaller group activities that explore issues and ideas on a deeper level. We've read, discussed, and reflected on a wide range of topics, from the leadership art of asking effective questions, to the way bureaucracies can limit growth, to effective mentoring and the role of higher education in an increasingly diverse, complex world. We've explored authenticity, power, time, and life balance. I'm beyond impressed by the talent and passion in the group.

We recently read an article published by Margaret J. Wheatley entitled Leadership in the Age of Complexity: From Hero to Host. The piece appears on her website and was also published in the Winter 2011 issue of Resurgence Magazine.

Wheatley asks why we’re drawn to heroes. She says we believe heroes have the answers and know what to do. She notes that people often like to be told what to do and that it can be easier to submit to the will of a heroic leader than stepping forward ourselves. When we step forward into the arena, we own both the potential for failure and the vulnerability that comes with it.

She further argues that in our complex world, it’s fantasy to expect heroic leaders to grab ahold of our complex and interconnected problems and do much with them. Because the answers are almost never simple, well-intentioned leaders often wind up generating even more chaos. Sometimes that comes from a lack of buy-in from those impacted by the heroes' attempt to solve problems. Wheatley argues for shifting the view of the leader from hero to host, and it’s squarely in line with one of our program’s core values--Leader of Service.

Her description of the hero was not unfamiliar. I remember anxiously serving as a young principal, intent on demonstrating that I was up to the myriad tasks that came my way. I was (and am) well acquainted with the Mask of Confidence new leaders put on in new roles. Many times I've asked students how they distinguish between that mask and another--the Mask of Competence, as we assume new roles when the stakes are high.

Wheatley writes, “Many of us can get caught up in acting like heroes, not from power drives, but from our good intentions and desires to help” and offers some quick ways to self-check. I invite you to take a look.

You’re acting as a hero when you believe that if you just work harder, you’ll fix things; that if you just get smarter or learn a new technique, you’ll be able to solve problems for others. You’re acting as a hero if you take on more and more projects and have less time for projects and causes and have less time for relationships. You’re playing the hero if you believe that you can save the situation, the person, the world.

The description fit me perfectly as a young principal. Truth be told, it still applies more than I might like to admit, despite knowing better.

I’ve revisited Wheatley’s test several times recently and am working to apply her wisdom to my current role as department head. As a visual reminder, I asked our graduate assistant to change the name card on my office door from Department Head to Department Host. I hope the change will serve as a symbolic and visual reminder.

If I fall into the hero’s trap, I’m not building capacity in others, I’m stifling it. If I’m so determined to learn new techniques that I fail to nurture relationships, I’m neglecting them. If I arrogantly think I can save the project, person or world…well, I’m just wrong.

I invite you to consider your own situation and practice as it relates to the difference between hero and host.

Perhaps you’ll find the questions useful. In the meantime, keep striving, dreaming and reflecting. That constant process reminds me of guidance from another wise woman, my mom, who likes to invoke the Dutch Proverb, “We are too soon old and too late smart.”

Happy hosting.

Hang In There -- Grad School is Worth It!

Dr. Sue Alborn-Yilek

Assistant Professor/Coordinator of the Principal Preparation Program

“I don’t know if I want to be a principal” my aspiring principal student said after having interviewed her principal and superintendent to gain their perspectives on the role and responsibilities of the principal.

An image of another young teacher filled my mind. She had been a successful English teacher -- mother of two itty-bitty babes and wife to her “soul mate” farmer-husband -- with no ambition of going to graduate school. She and her husband were simple people, dreamers with great big hearts, and, together, they had built a strong family foundation. All they had to do was stay the course and the American dream would be theirs!

But then the unthinkable happened! The husband did not come home one night and, nine days later, she pulled him out of a nearby lake. Her dream exploded!

Well, that was my dream and I was that teacher!

Four years elapsed as I grappled with my new reality. Struggling to support my family on a teacher’s salary and upon the nudging of my principal and superintendent who saw leadership capacity in me, I joined a cohort of aspiring principals.

“You will be great,” they told me. But, I was not so sure.

Is this the direction for me, I wondered. Do I have what it takes to juggle parenting, working, and completing a grueling set of courses for the principalship?

If you have ever asked yourself the same questions, perhaps my life experience will benefit you.

1. Be still and listen to your heart.

I felt I was ready to serve in a leadership role and, though others were encouraging me, I couldn’t always hear them amid my noisy life. I needed to be still and listen to my heart as it was then that I could hear the voice of my beloved, “G for G, my dear, and never look back.” So, I’d take off on a run and, the more I ran, the better I felt. As negative energy escaped my body, new thoughts filled my head. In fact, I can remember the exact moment I made the decision to attend graduate school. I’d ground out the last mile on a crunchy gravel road and, as I arrived at the top of the hill, I felt this rush of energy. “I’m going for it,” I told myself and that was it.

2. Embrace your vulnerability -- and your cohort.

I am not going to lie. I like being in control and my first class in the principal prep program was a time of reckoning. Though my professors exuded friendship and good will and I was learning a ton, the work was arduous and my mind was elsewhere.

For me, grad school was an extremely vulnerable time. I was learning how to live and raise a family, alone. I was learning how to fix a leaky pipe, drive a tractor and empty mouse traps. I had moved off the farm and into town and my friendship circle was changing. So many people depended on me – my children, my husband’s grieving family, our farming partners - and I couldn’t hold them up hard as I tried. At times, I felt like a hero and at others I felt like a smuck. I had bought into grad school as a viable and inspiring career option but I questioned how much novelty my system could handle.

Brene Brown’s vulnerability research had yet to surface but I did know enough about myself to conclude that, in times of trouble when I knew not where to turn, my best response had always been to surround myself with positive and inspiring people willing to share their ideas in a comfortable and caring environment. This is who my new cohort had become.  Together, we would “cooperate and graduate” and, when I felt like giving up,I would remind myself I did not want to let them go.

3. Re-engage like never before.

Grad school required me to go deep and it will you, too. I re-visited long-standing worldviews and, like a turtle coming out of its shell, began to see the light on many issues for the first time. I had been in command of my English classroom but had not an understanding nor, probably, an appreciation for the work of my building principal. The deeper I dove into the content, the more I wanted to wrap my loving arms around every principal I knew. In fact, one of the benefactors of such love was my very own high school principal who received a letter from me during my program thanking him for the service and guidance and direction he provided me during those high school years. He was surprised -- and delighted -- to receive my letter and our old friendship rekindled!

I was still a mom first and a worker/graduate student second but, had I not been all-in and re-engaged like never before, I would not have benefited from my excellent instruction nor engaged in the content at the core of the program.

So, here I am, 25 years later and well into a career as a building principal, central office administrator and now university professor, reflecting on one of my students. If you are like me and all the others who have questioned whether they can endure, my advice is to “hang in there.” Challenging times are what define us and make us who we are today.

Go for greatness and know always I look forward to seeing you on the other side!