Leading like the great conductors

Talgam uses the conductor as a metaphor for leadership in general. He suggests that the most effective conductors do not lead directly, but rather allow the artists to collaborate and create...to lead themselves. In his first clip, we watch a joyful and energetic man flailing his arms on stage. Be forewarned, I know absolutely NOTHING about classical music (or any music for that matter). When the clip is over, Talgam asks the audience, "who should we thank for this success?" Should the players be thanked? The audience? The conductor? Or perhaps all parties involved warrant thanks for the success of the performance. Talgam mentions that the conductor, the joyful arm-flailing man, is responsible for enabling other people's stories to be heard at the same time. To allow each player, audience member, symphony hall worker, etc. to come together in one moment of musical bliss. The next clip has a dark-haired, eyebrow-furrowing conductor (he must be German). His arms are not quite flailing, more of a precise pounding of each note. To my ear, the music sounds just as nice. In fact, Talgam confirms this suspicion, arguing that this conductor elicits equal performance from his musicians. His musicians, however, wrote him a lovely letter asking him to resign. Why? They felt as if he treated them like instruments, not musicians. His leadership style was centered on direct control. Missing from this leadership, according to Talgam, is the "listening of each other that is needed for the orchestra to function." A few clips later and we are left with the original conductor "doing without doing." In fact, he is just standing there listening. Yes, his face is alive with expression, but he is not conducting. Moral of the story? Isn't that where we all want to be as leaders. Where we have trained those around us how to lead themselves. How to communicate, how to listen, how to make independent choices, how to create and inspire on their own?

Let's take our metaphor to any high school in America. In the orchestra, you have your flutes, and oboes, and tubas, and whatnot. In our high school, we have our science teachers, math teachers, English teachers, etc. We all have different parts to play (ha, ha...so hokey. but it's true. we do.). However, we must be able to come together for the benefit of our students. My class cannot exist in isolation from the other classes. There is no English solo in the concerto of learning (ok, this music metaphor is wearing on my nerves). While we have different tools, different styles, different content, we should have the same goal: educating our students. Some schools sound a little like the middle school band. They are technically all playing at the same time, but they are definitely not playing together. Other schools might sound like our wind ensemble. Their individual skills have improved and they are aware of the fact that other orchestra members do, in fact, exist. But how do we get our schools to sound like the New York Philharmonic? Leadership.

I'm sure we have all had leaders who lead with furrowed-brows and pounding fists. While those schools might be high functioning, they aren't pleasant places to work. How can I grow as a professional when I spend my entire career following orders? The type of leadership described by Talgam is how you create a school that, after much hard work and collaboration, isn't just high functioning, but also a great place to work. A place where your individual voice is heard. A place where teachers grow in their craft. A place where different methods are embraced, not shunned. A place where 60 artisans can come together to do something transcendent. Now the cynic in me wants to leave you with a "when you find that school, let me know." But no one just "finds that school." We have to decide to be a part in making that school. So this year, let's start working toward creating, communicating, and collaborating to reach our common goal: educating our students.