A few nights ago I woke to my one-and-a-half-year-old-daughter shouting, “Mommy…Mommy!”  I figured that she meant, “Daddy…Daddy!” so I peeled my eyes open and engaged in the ceremonial wait to determine if this was a call to action or a false alarm.  It was a call to action.  My forty-year-old body reminded me that it doesn’t appreciate lying down for a few hours before attempting to stand up again.  I moaned and I groaned (a science and a art), I pulled my self out of bed, and I zombie-walked to the kid’s room (embedding every Lego, puzzle piece, and Matchbox car in the bottom of foot along the way).

There she was.  An angel.  She was standing in her sleep sac, looking up at me with those big blue eyes through a tangle mess of matted hair, arms outstretched, and low and behold, the aches and pains melted away.  I was going to get to rock and snuggle.  What could be better than that!?

I lifted her out of the crib, rounded up the necessary accouterments (three little animal-themed “lovies”, a water bottle, and whatever tiny board book she brought to bed last night), and I carried her to the rocking chair.  We settled in, I gave her a squeeze and a kiss on the head, and then I naively closed my eyes and let my head fall against the back of the chair.  I was ready for a bit of a nap.

That’s when I felt the tiny dot of the tip of her index finger on the much less tiny dot of the tip of my nose, and that’s when I heard my angel of a daughter gleefully exclaim, “Honk!”  Foiled again!  So, we played “Honk” for a few minutes, giggled some, snuggled a bit more, and then we both returned to sleep in our own beds for the next few hours.

She wasn’t scared of the dark or rattled by a bad dream, she wanted to play, she wanted some one on one time, and she wanted my undivided attention.  It reminded me of a few important things regarding my work as an elementary school principal:

– My students generally seem more comfortable, responsive, and motivated to partner with me on learning when I actively seek to build meaningful relationships with each of them.

– It seems truly important that I work hard at knowing each of my students’ names, calling them by their respective names consistently, and actively engaging in enthusiastic dialogue with each of them as often as opportunities present (brief or extended).

– When I’m successful at spending more of my time in classrooms, cafeterias, and on playgrounds, than in meetings and offices, the culture of my school community seems enhanced and increasingly focused on positive progress surrounding teaching and learning.

– My favorite part of this job is the part where I get to be with the people I serve.  The more I can focus on that part, the more joy I experience in my professional life. Furthermore, I would argue that increasing joy enhances my capacity to lead well.

As an educational leader it’s important for me to always remember that kids want and need to be seen, heard, and valued.  In fact, it’s arguably the bottom line of everything that we’re trying to do at school.  Given the countless hours I spend reading about and reflecting on leadership and learning, I love that my one-year-old-daughter and a late night game of “Honk” are the things that keep me grounded in learning, growth, and an authentic mission-focused paradigm.  Go figure!  Go “Honk!”

Live.  Learn.  Lead.

Dream Big.  Work Hard.  Be Well.