Education Week - February 7, 2024 - 20

Why I Told an Excellent Teacher
It Was Time to Leave
A good leader must have honest conversations-even when it feels hard
By Matthew Ebert
S
peaking the truth when others aren't ready to
hear it can feel impossible. Engaging in difficult
conversations can make your heart race and
your mouth dry. However, if you're going to
build and curate a healthy organization, there
will be times when leaders must tell the truth,
despite it being the last thing they want to do.
Leadership means being honest. Leadership means
recognizing what people need even if it goes against the
organization's immediate need.
Sometimes, it means telling an excellent teacher that it's
time to leave.
Which brings me back nine years-to Michael.
Michael was in his eighth year of teaching, and I had just
become the principal of his school. He was smart, held high
expectations, was an excellent teacher, worked incredibly
hard, and had voted for me to get the job.
He was also done teaching but didn't know it yet.
I saw it. Others did, too.
Michael arrived early and left late. Every moment was
urgent. Michael struggled in team meetings when folks didn't
agree with his positions. He once told the school secretary that
he didn't like being interrupted for questions about attendance
during class because " you wouldn't interrupt a firefighter. "
Michael felt like he was fighting fires every day.
We should all want someone with Michael's passion
teaching our kids. He expected the best out of himself and
others at all times. Michael's passion was a gift.
That's where Michael existed. All heart, all the time. His
reality was one where the challenges of our community were
personal.
But without healthy limits, passion can destroy a person.
Passion, especially in the daily struggle for educational equity,
requires pacing.
Michael and I established a relationship during our weekly
one-on-one check-ins. We would talk about all manner
of topics ranging from life to love to dogs and to teaching.
We built trust and a mutual respect. We laughed. We
commiserated. Michael knew that I cared about him, and I
knew that he trusted me.
Then, in the middle of the year, I told Michael that I thought
he was done teaching-he just didn't know it yet.
Just like that. In no uncertain terms. It wasn't easy. I was
scared about the conversation and the implications. I was
worried that my words would shatter the world that he had
crafted for himself. I was nervous that it would create a rift in
our community and would negatively impact our team.
But I knew it had to be done. For Michael, for the team, and
for the kids.
I told him what I saw. His passion had overtaken his
perspective and made him unable to see or sustain the big
picture. He couldn't continue existing like this, and, if he did, it
would eventually hurt our kids, our adults, and him. He wasn't
healthy and he wasn't happy. He deserved to be both.
Michael was surprised by my remark. When we talked
it through, he understood my perspective, even if he didn't
agree. We continued our wonderful relationship (which we still
maintain). He completed the year with our school. Giving his
all, every day.
At the end of the year, a close friend offered Michael a
teaching position at another school. Michael was conflicted
about leaving. I encouraged him to go.
He took the job.
The next year, he left that school.
Then, he went to one more.
Then, he left teaching.
He was done. He knew it.
When Michael began his career, someone should have been
honest and said, " The fire will still be there tomorrow. " You
have to take care of yourself first. You have to prioritize your
own needs, and we're going to show you how.
Leaders should have told Michael to slow down. To pace
himself. To breathe. To pick his head up, look around, and
understand that there is more to this life than his classroom.
They should have told Michael that his best would look
different each day because he was a living, breathing person.
No one expected him or needed him to be perfect. They just
needed him to be whole.
That's what a culture of care will do-allow you to have the
difficult conversations and still move forward together. When
20 | EDUCATION WEEK | February 7, 2024 | www.edweek.org/opinion
people know that you truly care about them, it's amazing how
honest you can be.
I tried to do that for Michael, but I was too late. When I met
him, he was already done. The most human thing I could do
for him was to tell him the truth-even if he wasn't ready to
hear it. That was kindness. That was caring.
I spoke to Michael recently. He's happier than ever. He's
pursuing a variety of interests and has cultivated a full life
outside of work. He's whole now.
I asked Michael what he would tell his past self. " It's tough
not to slip into cliché: 'It's a marathon, not a sprint.' 'You
can't be good for students if you aren't good for yourself,' "
Michael shared. " Maybe it would have been most effective to
frame it in the context of modeling for students. As much as
I would have wanted for them to have a healthy school/life
balance, I certainly didn't provide a strong blueprint for them.
Unfortunately, I'm honestly not sure past-Michael would be
able to hear the advice, but that doesn't make it any less true. "
The key to long-term success for organizations is developing
and curating a culture of care. It means creating a foundation
of trust through honest conversations. It takes leaders who are
willing to understand that organizations are best served by
healthy, growing individuals. It means creating space for those
individuals to evolve in ways that may even have them leave
your school.
And it means telling the truth, to people you care about,
even when it's hard.
EBERT has more than 20 years of experience in education,
primarily focused on school leadership in urban settings.
Now the founder of Ebert Educational Consulting, he has
previously been a teacher, a director of academic innovation,
an academy leader, and a school principal.
The Principal Is In In this biweekly
column, principals and other
authorities on school leadership offer
timely and timeless advice for their
peers. Interested in contributing? Email
AskAPrincipal@educationweek.org.
Vanessa Solis/Education Week via Canva
http://www.edweek.org/opinion
Education Week - February 7, 2024

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