Hair, the End Papers – Part One

Subsequent to posting my latest blog article, I wrote to a few friends announcing my latest bon mot. I even emailed them a draft to avoid the embarrassment that Passaging had not been listed among their “favorites.”

In response, I received the following from Beatrice, “For a blog purporting to be about leadership development, you seemingly strayed from target, all for a follicular metaphor albeit not without an attempt at humor.”

She’s like that, all purporting, seemingly, follicular and albeit. And, I might add, not always accurate in either her criticism or her facts. Case in point, follicular. Webster informs me that my posting was about “the flexible protein strand,” not the follicle from which it grows. Ha to you Beatrice! Though, not to lose one of my few readers, let me unwind my thoughts a bit more.

Why this format? Why tell a story first?

Parables are efficient and compact, sometimes even interesting, and as a teaching tool -- not without precedent.


Stories provide a way for the reader to observe – and by reflecting on our observations, open us to greater understanding, in this case the essence of adolescence. If we high school educators want to assist in the development of leadership, we need to look at the stories around us, we need to look for the little signs of imminent leadership not merely the splash events of iabmocloawid, an ancient Iroquoian term roughly translated to mean: I’m a Big-Man-On-Campus-Look-at What-I’m-Doing.

This past week I observed a meeting of all our juniors in what our school calls the Living Room. Among its many oddities, this room has no door blocking off hallway sounds or nosy spectators. The Grade Head was appealing to the juniors’ deep sense of peer respect and kindness as they processed a difficult event that had happened at school recently.

Coming in late to the meeting, a group of boys, including Orin, straggled onto the steps leading down into the living room; he like the others listened respectfully, repressing his usual impish humor. When an even later student came in, Orin, while moving over to make space, noticed that the curtain had not been fully closed. He considered the situation and quietly reached over and closed the curtain.

Did this little thing really show such enough great leadership for me to write about it so extensively? Perhaps not by the usual norms. He did not “make us proud” by getting up to address his class, nor did he cynically disrupt from the edges; both more obviously acts that lead others. Orin did nothing so overt. He merely perceived the need for community privacy, quietly reached over, and closed the curtain. So little, so easy – though no one else sitting on those steps thought to do that, including some teachers (and myself). Orin flexed seedling leadership muscle by this one small act. It witnessed a growing habit of leadership that Orin is developing.

He:

a) Identified a problem,
b) Conceived a solution, and then
c) Acted to solve the problem.

Leadership is many things, but these three form the very foundation of the leadership act and the leadership habit of mind. Gathering others into the project will complete the four corners upon which adult leadership will be built.

One might argue that this happened despite the school; at school but not because of the school. True, sort of; except for a few related responses. First, no one thought his act was strange; it was part of the culture of the school. Secondly, it was noticed. Thirdly, I later privately praised him. And last, I am now writing so that he and others can reflect on what this means.

By the way, his response was noteworthy. He did not look at me as if I were alien to his world. Instead he smiled his most glorious self-deprecating smile and merely said, “Thank you; that means a lot.”

Thank you Orin!