Transitions

Over the course of the last semester, I've transitioned to my new role on campus:  away from 'Arts Director,' with a class load and on to 'Associate Head of School for Arts, Technology, and Administration.'  It's a mouthful, but fairly representative of the scope of my responsibilities.

It's fascinating to watch the reactions of other members of my community.  The reality, in my mind, hasn't shifted all that much.  I still do much of what I did before, only now I do more of it, if that makes sense.

The biggest shift I've felt centers on the changing relationships I have with faculty members and administrators on campus.  They're waiting, I assume, for guidelines regarding my hierarchical standing--where does this newly-titled thing fit in our reality?

Titles can be both barrier and catalyst...

I had an intriguing conversation with a colleague last night.  She mentioned that she didn't really know what my educational philosophy was, or what I thought about the art of teaching.  I suppose that's fair.  Her duties would rarely allow her to observe me with my students--which, I believe, is much more representative than any resume-driven, jargon-clouded, treatise I could vomit on to a piece of paper (Sorry.  Had to get that application fatigue out somehow).  My response surprised me.  I explained that teaching a choir class, or any music ensemble, is more about building community and consensus than about the training details.  The pedagogy, for choirs at least, has been well-tested and continually improved since the middle ages.  The core competency, the real center of ensemble, lies in convincing a group of diverse individuals to buy into the composer's vision and to simply trust each other (and, by extension, trust me).  That's what it's always been about.  That's what all great teaching is about.  It's also what good administrators should strive to do.

So, though I'm changing my role, my past experience still guides me. I have to make sure the title doesn't get in the way of the conversation.  I need to be sure that I'm helping my colleagues trust the vision, and through enthusiasm and compassion, hope that by extension, they can trust me too.