It’s the kind of wisdom that comes from admitting you don’t know everything.
Written by Faustin Weber, president, Prince of Peace Catholic Schools, Catholic Diocese of Dallas, [email protected]
“I was so much older then. I’m younger than that now.” crooned Bob Dylan in his song ‘My Back Pages.’
Dylan is reflecting on how, in his youth, he thought he knew everything and saw the world in black and white. He now realizes that this “rigid idealism” was a kind of premature aging—an intellectual and emotional stiffness.
He’s claims he is “younger now” because he’s let go of that rigid idealism. He’s more open, humble, and willing to let people be who they are. It’s the kind of wisdom that comes from admitting you don’t know everything.
That’s certainly true for me as I reflect on my first years as principal and compare to myself today. I was just 27 when I first became principal. Thirty-six years later, after leading four Catholic schools, what would my 63-year-old self have to say to my younger self?
Plenty!
Here are three quick takeaways:
First, gosh I was cocky! I had it all figured out. It’s the kind of cockiness, I quickly learned, that comes from the lowest level of self-awareness, that “you don’t know what you don’t know.” But becoming a principal is good humility training, and I soon moved to a higher level of awareness, that “I knew that I didn’t know”— by Thanksgiving of that first year. Only then, as my decisions crashed around me, was I open to seeking help and advice.
Second, I thought being a good leader meant I needed to project decisiveness and confidence, so I made quick (rash) decisions to compensate for the fact I felt neither. I didn’t consult enough people; I didn’t practice what I now call “strategic patience;” I was the proverbial bull in the China shop. My leadership suffered as a result.
Third, I didn’t give myself enough room to make decisions when I wrote policy handbooks. I spelled out the exact consequence for “crimes” before they happened. I don’t do that anymore, because it removes my pastoral discretion on how to best help a kid grow from their mistake. As an example, I no longer say “Students in possession of or under the influence of alcohol or illegal drugs on campus or at a school event WILL BE expelled. Instead, I say “WILL BE LIABLE FOR expulsion” so that I have the flexibility to do something else if warranted.
Want to be humbled? Go back and critique an earlier version of you! We do the best we can, but we make a lot of mistakes! Fortunately, God “writes straight with crooked lines” (St. Teresa of Avila).
I look forward to talking to new principals in greater depth this November at the inaugural NCEA New Building Leader Academy, held in conjunction with the School Building Leader Summit. I hope to see you there.
