Finding Joy

Jump ahead three months. The hundred days are drawing to an end. You’ve heard every stakeholder’s story of woe, worked out who are allies and who are time vampires. You’ve observed some great things but also picked up a lot that needs work: policies that need rewriting, practices that need tightening, and perhaps teachers and families who need counselling. You’ve made a list. And revised it. Thrice. You’ve planned it on an Eisenhower matrix, but now it’s all on post-it notes so you can constantly rearrange as the priority tasks shift in and out of focus like figures in the mist. Each one seems urgent, time sensitive, the most pressing, until something even more pressing swims into view.

You wake up sweating, having dreamed of your post-it notes. You go to bed with the to do list undone and even longer. Was it fool’s gold you struck? Was this really what you signed on for when you accepted your first headship?

Well yes, it was. And to be honest, it won’t change much. All you can do is keep ploughing through the lists, taking it a day at a time whilst also keeping your strategic plan in mind and remembering to smile. It can feel overwhelming, and it can be hard to remember that initial sense of joy and celebration. Here’s how I try to find the joy amongst the grind.

Although I have a laptop, iPad, phone, and watch to keep me on track, I also keep a notebook where I record ideas, plans, and projects. On the front page, I wrote three big things I wanted to achieve as a Head and my one watchword, written large at the centre of my little success visual. The word is joy. That front page isn't a strategic plan; it's my own personal goal for leadership, my why. It’s helpful to look at it and remind myself of my goal every so often.

For me, joy often comes in seeing small steps add up into something big and powerful. Looking back through my notebook helps me to track change. Notes from meetings mark small steps on a colleague’s journey of growth. A draft outline reminds me that last year we held our first-ever school musical. Comments from community members, some funny, some just kind, remind me that I am making a difference on a personal level.

Growth is incremental. Just as geologists place yearly markers in the ice to track the movement of a glacier, go back through your notes and mindfully notice the changes you have made. Then, feel the joy that comes with knowing you are making a difference.

Football manager Marcelo Bielsa speaks about his belief in the power of the collective over the individual. Remember that you lead your school collective, and celebrate their successes. Team wins bring joy on a personal and group level, and sharing joy with others enhances the power and effect of the emotion.

Grade 6 asked me recently why we had a school 15th birthday party. “Why wouldn’t we?” was my answer. A simple party—some cake and drinks on a warm Friday after school—was an immensely joyful celebration of our journey as a school. Looking out at the families and faculty as I prepared to cut the cake with some enthusiastic young helpers, my heart was filled with joy. Is there still more to do? Of course, but being consciously mindful of moments like these helps refuel that sense of “can do” and purpose.

As a Head, very rarely do you get big, triumphant moments handed to you. The best thing to do is seek glimmers of joy, and avoid the triggers. Tell the time vampire that you’ve got 15 minutes to meet with them, then usher them out, and take joy in the fact that you controlled the situation. Find a task that is outward-facing—the newsletter, a policy document, or a handbook. Get it done and share it. That gives a sense of accomplishment which is quite tangible and can help reframe the sense of overwhelm.

And finally, embrace social connection. Life as a Head can be lonely, and you may not want to socialize with colleagues or parents. But research shows that connecting to your community socially goes a long way to preventing burnout in school leaders. A cup of coffee, a chat in the car park—these interactions ground us in the human relationships that really are why we chose this role in the first place.