I have now spent over twenty years in association work, along with additional years serving on the board of some associations. While all of these organizations have been school-related, I have always maintained that the work of leading a school association possesses a very different flavor from actually working in a school. It is vital, of course, to have the school experience—if nothing else you know many of the issues and can talk the language—but a great deal of the substance and tone of the work differs from the rough and tumble, as well as the deep joys, of school life.
While one benefits from the larger perspective in association work, the unique vantage point of working with a number of schools, one is no longer embedded in a particular place of learning.
That is the essential tradeoff—gaining the perspective while relinquishing the lack of a connection with an ongoing community—something which rests well with some people in doing this work, but not with others.
As I approach the end of my time leading this association, I have been thinking about the many things that an association of ours can do, as well as cannot do. What power do we have, as well as what power we do not have?
Let’s start with the lack of power.
We, as a voluntary association, have no power to force schools to be members. We do not accredit or certify, and frequently we have to compete for schools’ membership dollars with associations that bestow some type of official recognition in return. The value proposition must be compelling, in order to merit consideration by school leaders. We are about focusing on mission, and we all know how easy it is to sidestep that most foundational component of a school. Similarly, as we are often called in to work on particular problems in our schools, oftentimes that call comes only when things have gotten to a point that there is little we can do as a mediating force. To lead a voluntary association is to experience, on a regular basis, a certain lack of power in many circumstances.
Our authority, our power, if you will, resides elsewhere. Call it moral authority, consultative power, or the power of a national perspective, the essence of our authority must come from experience, wisdom, and perspective, rather than bestowing any stamp of approval.
From what I have seen, an association like ours can provide a lot to our schools, among them:
The power of backup and confirmation.
We are called upon regularly to give perspective to what a school may be going through. Given our knowledge of and experience with schools, we generally speak with authority when a representative of a school calls to see if an issue confronting them is common among other schools. The question, “Are other Episcopal schools facing this?” is a regular one, and there is at least some relief when an individual school understands that it is hardly alone in experiencing an emerging issue or when that nagging problem just does not seem to go away.
On some occasions, a school contacts us in the hope that we have a specific policy to back up their position. In this case, a school yearns for some type of confirmation to which they can point and around which they can substantiate their decision or policy. More often than not there is not such a policy, per se. We can only share what we do know from what we have learned and heard from other schools, along with the data they provide us. As much as we might like to provide policy back-up to all the requests we receive, helping to give weight to decisions that must be made, it is not always possible.
Language bearer and interpreter.
Over the years I have been amazed how frequently, when a school talks about its Episcopal identity on its website, there is something from NAES that is quoted. This, along with the ongoing requests we receive from our members regarding what to say about Episcopal identity and how best to present it, tells me that one of the most important things we do is help equip schools to find the language that captures what they understand to be their identity as Episcopal schools.
There is a growing need among our membership to develop language which captures who we are as Episcopal schools in accessible, compelling ways. Families look at our schools with less and less understanding of what the Episcopal tradition is about, so we cannot assume that what we know about our school community and its lived identity can be easily understood by those not familiar with it.
Rather than supply stock language or phrases that supposedly fit all of our schools, our task is to help our member schools develop the language that captures their best understanding of that identity, what truly resonates with their common life. What will be communicated most effectively are those descriptions that capture a school’s understanding of what it already is, what it is already doing. Otherwise, you are asking a school to take an external understanding of Episcopal identity and incorporate it, from the outside in. As purveyors in the language business, our task is to help find that identity in a school where it already exists, seeking to capture its life and vibrancy and then convey it to the larger world.
Sometimes, whether it be with the language of Episcopal identity, or more general ways in which they go about their respective business, schools and churches can operate in different spheres of meaning and practice.
Sometimes, whether it be with the language of Episcopal identity, or more general ways in which they go about their respective business, schools and churches can operate in different spheres of meaning and practice. Which finds us frequently doing something we are uniquely positioned to do in such relationships—help interpret one to the other. While there is, fortunately, tremendous overlap in mission and commitment, the two entities can at times seem miles apart in their understanding of each other. Our interpretive work, hopefully, can help close some of that gap.
Listener/sounding board.
No small amount of our work is done through listening. As schools share their struggles with us, quite frequently all they are seeking is a listening ear, someone outside of the system who can hear the issues and give some type of perspective to the issue at hand. This is a particularly crucial need of our school leaders, people who frequently do not have someone “in-house” to whom they can turn to in order to provide a reality check, a confirmation of their concern, or simply talk through ways in which a problem might be addressed.
As with many of you, I have had the frequent experience of concluding a call or Zoom meeting, complete with participants’ expressions of appreciation for how helpful I’ve been, wondering just what I actually did (or perhaps they were just being polite). Chances are that the most impactful thing I did was listen. In this day and age that is not something we can take for granted.
Convening.
I have come to understand that there is a certain power, a certain authority, which has to do with convening, with bringing a variety of people together in common concern and experience. It is something that an association like ours can do that schools, on their own, have a more difficult time doing. It is more than simply scheduling something and offering it to our membership. It involves making the right space for such a gathering, framing the issues that are to be addressed, being mindful of the diversity of the gathering, and building upon what have been the common issues that bring a sense of urgency to the gathering. Convening offers yet one more opportunity of overcoming isolation—including the tendency of schools to operate as islands unto themselves—and putting the challenges of school life into a broader context.
At no time has our convening authority been more important than during this pandemic, when isolation became even more acute. The opportunity of chaplains to come together and talk about matters that very few other people in their schools would understand, for DEIJ directors to have the chance to put words to the common experience of feeling siloed in their schools, or of ECE directors being able to take time from their multiple tasks and view their roles in a totality, are all testimony, in the midst of tumultuous times, to the value of convening.
Noticing.
I have taken a great many school tours during my time at NAES, and it has been so satisfying to see how much people love to talk about and show me their schools. To take a tour of a school with its head is to experience the pride that person feels in the buildings, the people, and the programs. Alternately, to step into a classroom, even when there are no students, and hear a teacher talk with such enthusiasm about what his or her students are learning, is to be wonderfully reminded of what joy people take in their work, in being in this particular place.
All the guest needs to do is notice, to allow the host to exude the pride of this particular place. As people in schools, as human beings, we need outsiders to notice, to express an interest in what we are doing and how. Colleagues inside the school may be too busy to notice, those from other schools are too entrenched in the competitiveness of being noticed themselves. Someone from an association, who comes with knowledge of the larger framework, can bestow a type of “official noticing” that we all need. What’s more, when one gets to know the school better and better, that noticing can take place at conferences or similar gatherings, when one can ask how things are going and inquire about particulars in that school with a unique degree of authority.
It is remarkable how important the noticing role is. Perhaps that is because noticing is at the very heart of what we do as educators—notice our students, notice the subject matter, notice—again and again—why we love this work. Teachers, at their best, take notice. The degree to which we, as an association, take notice of what they are doing is to highlight their fundamental role with students, parents, and colleagues.
We learn what the issues are through noticing, we shape our programming through noticing, and we learn what we can do as well as not do as we go about taking notice. NAES, through large and small ways, can help schools take notice, once again, of their fundamental mission and its grounding in our core values and beliefs.