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IT was another get-together for former teaching colleagues.
While the third round of teh tarik was being served by the amiable mamak restaurant proprietor, my old friend Dilla suddenly said: “Out of all the principals you have worked under, who do you think was the best?
“Was there anyone who stood out for their special brand of leadership? Maybe someone you looked up to?”
There were a couple of “Hmms” around the table. After a few minutes, Linda, who retired almost five years ago, said: “Not really, no, although there were one or two who may have come close.
“But to be fair to them, perhaps I never stayed long enough in any school to actually be able to judge their leadership. Or perhaps the principals themselves never did.”
There was a brief silence and finally, Usha, another ex-colleague, said with a sigh: “It’s true. When you think about it, they were not terrible leaders. They generally knew their job requirements, the expectations of those above them in the state education departments or ministry, and they mostly did try to get their job done.”
“One or two weren’t too bad,” said another colleague. “While I wouldn’t have given high points for visionary leadership, they kept the whole school mechanism going.
“They were trying their best, even if it didn’t result in any major school transformations. But none of us teachers really complained about less-than-competent leadership.
“We were too busy with our own teaching duties. Principals come and go but school goes on forever.”
The conversation then turned to the topic of the principals whom we did remember. Almost all of us were familiar with the phrase “If you don’t respect me, respect my chair”.
“In all my 27 years of teaching, I have respected seven different chairs,” said Linda with a laugh.
After that, there was a hearty recollection of amusing anecdotes related to previous school principals.
One remembered her ex-principal of 30 years ago who, apart from her role as a school leader, ran a brisk business selling homemade kuih bahulu on the side.
It was common to see staff come out of the principal’s office with a sheepish grin on their faces, holding a jar of bahulu.
Laila, who had taught for 20 years in an all-boys school, remembered her former principal who converted almost a whole year of co-curricular sessions into planting, weeding, cleaning and painting activities in the single-minded pursuit of school beautification.
“Looking back, after all these efforts, our school did look a whole lot better and became a more conducive learning environment. So, in her own way, she did make an impact on education,” said Laila.
The conversation then shifted to the topic of “horrible bosses”, as Linda put it.
“These were the principals from hell,” said Linda, “thoughtless, egotistic, self-seeking, and usually always incompetent.”
It was a little depressing to note that in our collective 100 or more years of teaching, none of us remembered any particularly inspiring school leader.
But to be fair, perhaps none of us had the opportunity to work under principals who possessed true leadership qualities – those who were visionary, and understood the true value of education beyond school rankings or examination achievements.
Or perhaps it was us who could not recognise the finer qualities of true educational leadership among the school leaders we had worked with.
Maybe we had been too caught up in the tyranny of daily teaching duties to appreciate the complexities – the challenges our leaders faced, the resistance from staff and subordinates who were prejudiced or closed-minded, and who had already made up their minds to dislike whoever filled the leadership seat in the school.
But isn’t that also true of other educational institutions? How many institutes of higher learning in the country actually have individuals in leadership positions with the conviction that education is the cornerstone and the building block for the nation’s progress?
In the scramble for university and school rankings, the chase for enrolment numbers or the enhancement of personal career agendas, many educational leaders may opt for convenient or diluted interpretations of academic excellence, thereby compromising quality.
To some extent, we are all familiar with phrases associated with preferred and less-preferred types of leadership, ranging from instructional and transformative leadership to authoritarian and laissez-faire styles.
But the truth is no single educational leader fits completely into any leadership mould. Depending on the situation or demands placed upon them, leaders often have to shift from one role to another.
And this can sometimes lead to unfair judgements of their leadership capabilities.
So, before we either praise someone’s fantastic leadership or criticise it harshly, we should ask ourselves whether the verdict we are pronouncing is truly about them or about ourselves.
Dr G. Mallika Vasugi, who currently teaches at a local university, provides insights into the teaching profession. The views expressed here are the writer’s own.
