It starts in elementary school, even as early as preschool. The almost rabid desire to be the leader starts young. The teacher has to award the role of leader in the most fair way possible, systematically alternating the position on a daily basis. Why is this post so sought after? It’s the perks that drive kids to daydream of the day they get to be “line leader.” This perks package includes getting to lead the line down the hall with the distinction of being first. First to music, first to the lunch room, and the first one out for recess. Best of all, the line leader walks at the front with the most revered leader of all, the queen of the classroom, the ruler supreme…the teacher.
It’s no wonder so many of us wanted to grow up and become teachers; who wouldn’t want the prized role of “line leader” as a permanent position? As a “permanent line leader” myself I have led not-so-straight or especially quiet lines through our building for various reasons for over twenty years. As a young teacher, I was most proud when my line was silent and moved noiselessly from point A to point B. This is no small feat in a middle school, mind you. I had to master a backward walk, enabling me to keep a watchful eye on any child considering an “extra” drink break when we passed the drinking fountain and to monitor rising noise levels with a quiet shush paired with the all important eye contact.
My “no-fail” line protocol took a serious hit when I had the stroke two years ago. After nearly two months in the hospital and a summer spent in outpatient physical and cognitive therapy, I was given permission to return to work with no limitations. Last year when I first returned, I wanted to appear normal and vibrant to my students and peers, so I did without the cane. I moved carefully and deliberately down the rowdy, loud and crowded halls. Needless to say, my usual line practices took a hit.
I didn’t want to hold my whole class up by forcing them to walk behind me, so I did something “unthinkable” for my pre-stroke self, I let them go AHEAD of me. Of course, I explained my expectations for responsible hallway movement and emphasized how important it was to demonstrate responsibility given this new freedom. The students seemed to stand a little straighter and proudly nodded in agreement, anxiously anticipating this thrilling new prospect of walking themselves down the hall. They did very well, and I was reminded of how fun it is to travel with the pack. At the back of the line, I could catch snatches of little whispered conversations around me. I had two or three sweeties who lagged behind to just walk with me. When I eventually made it to the library, my students were already taking care of business, checking out books, searching the stacks for the next book in their series, and reading, totally lost in the world of story. The back of the line may be my new favorite spot. It’s such a change of pace and an entirely new perspective.
Who knew you don’t have to be in front to lead? You can lead from anywhere! That epiphany and my reading of “The Leader in Me” has pushed me to consider how I view my students and how I can negotiate our culture’s obsession with the buzzword of “leadership.” I’ve started looking more deeply at the specific gifts my students exhibit, pushing myself to consider where and how they lead. I appreciate the children who wave their hands in front of me, always ready to show me they know the answer. I’m in awe of their energy and excitement for learning. They are the students I would traditionally classify as leaders in the class. This year I pushed myself to consider a new type of leader; I pushed myself to look for leaders in a new way.
At the start of the school year I kicked off an activity called, “Tag, You’re IT!” The activity challenges me to notice the natural gifts and talents of the kids in my classes. I celebrate what I notice as a talent in a child by creating a tag I post in the classroom. For instance, Amanda took a story start she had worked on in class and finished it at home, publishing a book cover and illustrations. I made a tag for Amanda and recognized her “ability to make the learning her own.” Kyle fashioned a stand to block the sun’s direct rays on our document projector. He was tagged for his “leading in problem solving skills.” Liz stayed in the office and explained assignments to a child who’d missed class for two days, and I tagged her for “being empathetic and nurturing.” Sometimes kids help me, telling me all about their talents like the young lady who brought me her sketchbook and showed me all the drawings she’d done. I was marveling at her drawing talent when she said, “Do you think you should make a tag for me?” Why, of course!
Once I’ve posted 8-10 student tags, I turn the tags into lunch pass necklaces. The kids like joining me for lunch in the classroom, and they especially appreciate the dessert I share with all of them. This work of closely watching for and revealing the talents of my students has shaped for me the true meaning of leadership.
A real leader doesn’t make you follow him/her; a true leader pays attention and sends you off on a path selected just for you, one meant to best use your gifts and talents.