If all goes according to plan, I will defend my doctoral dissertation prior to the New Year. I won’t deny it, I’m pretty jazzed. This will be one of my proudest personal accomplishments. It’s been “a long and winding road” between changing topics, stalling out in my second chapter, struggling to find school districts willing to cooperate with my research after a successful proposal defense, a hiatus during my first several months in Alaska, a false research start when a cooperating district turned out to not meet research criteria, and bouts of writer’s block.

Here’s the thing, though. When it’s all finished, I will be a Dr. instead of a Mr. Two of my closest friends and former colleagues are finished and are Dr.’s instead of Mr.’s. What deep pedagogical knowledge and magical administrative powers do they possess that I do not? None. Please, don’t get me wrong, They worked hard and deserve their titles. I’m envious that I’m not there yet. The difference is, all three of us had lengthy papers to write. They’re finished with their papers. I’m not quite done yet.

If and when the day comes that I find myself searching for my next career challenge, no doubt the change in title will be a boon, particularly if that next position is at a higher administrative level. It has certainly been a worthwhile pursuit and it has also come with a superintendent’s endorsement. When I look back on our doctoral coursework and the lessons learned in pursuit of the title, I am reminded of the process I went through earning my administrative certification. That coursework made me deeply reflect on my practice and philosophy as a teacher. This process has inspired new depths of reflection about the role and significance of a principal.

Getting my administrative certification made me a better and more purposeful teacher. I believe this process has made me a better and more thoughtful principal.

Cultural Observation: Enough with pumpkin spice flavored things! Seriously.

No job description can fully depict the myriad activities in which a principal engages on a daily basis. First and foremost, the safety of all is paramount. After safety, there is the educational leadership side — the ongoing improvement of teaching and learning, coaching teachers, advocating for students. Professional development is a critical responsibility, inextricably linked with teacher and student growth. There is the human resources side — hiring, supervision and evaluation, and contract administration. Student management, for better or worse, takes up a chunk of time, particularly with middle schoolers.

Then there is the contractual codicil many of us revel in, “…and other duties as assigned.” Throughout my administrative career I have prided myself on the little things that make up “other duties as assigned.” In the past that has included putting the bleachers away after an evening basketball game, picking up hallway detritus, pushing a wheelchair halfway across a baseball field, re-filling the water cooler, and organizing the staff holiday meal. At Highland Tech, a small school with a small staff and no daytime custodian, “other duties” has taken on a whole new meaning. These days I make the staff coffee every morning, then clean the pot and re-stock the mugs. I move furniture, regulate the building temperature, adjust the school clocks (manually), and manage the lost and found.

Most days I unlock the front doors and turn the lights on and very often I lock the doors and turn the lights off at the end of the day. Before school started I painted and reassembled classrooms, hung bulletin boards and clocks, moved bookcases and anchored them to the walls, and even assembled a new gas grill purchased for us by our PTSO. I believe my most important job as a principal is ensuring the physical and emotional safety of my students and staff on a daily basis. My second most critical responsibility is educational leadership. But at the end of the day, I do enjoy rolling up my sleeves and doing whatever needs to be done. “That’s not my job” is not in my vocabulary, nor in the vocabulary of the best principals I’ve worked with during my career.

Cultural Observation: The greatest failure of technology in the last twenty years is far and away the car alarm. I don’t know if this is a living in a city as opposed to a suburb thing, but not an evening goes by when I don’t hear an alarm and not a weekend day goes by when I don’t hear four of them. Not once do I, nor does anybody else think, “Oh no, some poor soul is having his automobile burgled. Quick, someone contact the proper authorities!” No, what every person in the neighborhood is thinking is “Come on !#@!!!&*%$#!!!”