Are teacher leaders wizards or masons?
The mason throws the mortar and trowels it smooth, lays the brick and taps it level. Each brick contributes incrementally to the wall, which defines the room, and room-by-room the house is built. The mason stands back and admires a job well done. A novice driving through the neighborhood marvels at the talent it took to build the house.
But the mason’s and the novice’s admiration aren’t the same. The mind of the novice skips from an empty lot to the completed structure and sees its creation as some kind of magic. But the mason knows that the whole deserves respect because of the inspiration and discipline that each step required.
Edison described the steps as the perspiration that makes up 90% of genius. Woody Allen said something, it’s disputed exactly what, about how most of success comes from showing up – taking the steps, if you will.
As the mason builds a house, the teacher builds a career. At any point one teacher may look back and say, “So far, so good. What does my next step require?” But another looks back and says, “This can’t be right.”
My friend Megan Allen’s accomplishments include being a National Board Certified Teacher, a Florida State Teacher of the Year, and a Center for Teacher Quality Teacherpreneur. She currently works as the developer and director of the masters program in teacher leadership at Mount Holyoke College in Massachusetts.
Clearly, if Megan Allen looks at the career she’s built and says this can’t be right, something’s going on. And she recently published two articles in EDweek to explain that what’s going on is called Imposter Syndrome.
Imposter syndrome manifests itself as feelings of being a fake, in spite of numerous successes and accomplishments.
Megan dedicates The Big Bad Wolf of Leadership: Imposter Syndrome to research on imposter syndrome. Her Tips to Conquer the Big Bad Wolf of Imposter Syndrome include focusing on the work at hand, owning your accomplishments, and (my favorite) acting early in new situations to break your internal ice. She concludes that tackling Imposter Syndrome head on can lead to courage – the mastery of fear, not the absence of fear (to paraphrase her Mark Twain quote, emphasis added).
But I don’t see Imposter Syndrome as the Big Bad Wolf. Rather, it’s a welcome humility check that takes two forms. First, it shifts one’s understanding of an accomplishment from that held by the novice to that held by the mason. For example, I often get invited into teacher leader networks by people I’ve worked with in other settings. Whenever that happens I feel like I’ll be exposed as the mere mortal among a wand of wizards. But after joining the network and getting a peek behind the curtain, I see that masons outnumber wizards by a large margin. And I realize I wasn’t invited for my magic but for the mortar I’ll throw and the bricks I’ll lay.
(A related and happy result of this kind of thinking is that I’m rarely afraid of anyone anymore, in spite of their titles or status, because I know they’re not wizards, either. At best they’ve just laid a few more bricks, or perhaps some different bricks, than I have.)
The second form of humility comes when I’m explicitly recognized for an accomplishment, like being named a Leader in Education by Raytheon Missile Systems. Although honored, happy, and thankful, I felt like neither a fake nor a god. And moments after receiving the news, I thought of others who deserve recognition as much as I do. And that results in me seeing the recognition as a call to raise the bar on what I expect from myself, not as an award for a job well done.
And far from being a burden, having a reason to raise the bar is a welcome tool because every day when I face an ordinary choice I’m motivated to ask an extraordinary question: What would a Leader In Education do?
The answer to which is – lay the next brick at tap it level.