10 minute read
Headmaster
Dr Alec O’Connell
Headmaster
Leadership is about letting go
Complacency is a clear and present danger for all leaders. As a leader who has been in my current position for some time, there is always the danger of becoming too comfortable in the mental space within which I operate, leading to decision making by rote and, more critically, missed opportunities to renew, grow and envisage future strategic changes.
The past few years have been a time to reset one’s priorities, to rethink what you care about. For many, this has been influenced by the COVID-19 pandemic, but for my family and me, in the midst of dealing with COVID-19, we also underwent a moment of personal reassessment and challenge.
In early October, I was diagnosed with cancer. My family’s and my life drastically changed as we rapidly had to adapt to a world of chemotherapy, medical tests and hospitals and far less work-related responsibility than at any point in my adult life. The cancer was discovered via a relatively routine health check – I was experiencing some breathlessness – and I am incredibly lucky and owe my life today to how quickly my female GP identified it. Many are not as fortunate as I have been with the outcome. Furthermore, the pandemic has demonstrated the great inequality that exists in our society today, both in Australia and globally.
When you’re challenged with personal health, you refocus; your values require revisiting, and your connections become different as you meet others in similar situations. Often, we talk about issues in the third person; you might have empathy, but these issues are kept at a comfortable distance from your own life. Once you’re embroiled in something, the playing field is level. Once you’re hooked up in the ward, who cares what you do for a living. You need to reassess: what do you love to do versus whom you love? And how do you balance those? You open the door to another world, very much a The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe moment; suddenly, the game is played within a new and very much unfamiliar context. You might still live and play in the original arena, but you must leave it behind as you deal with the new environment. People, practices and experiences come out of it that you would never have encountered without the unexpected contextual shift.
I sat in the chemotherapy ward waiting room, listening to the conversations of people who have spent 20 years receiving chemotherapy treatment. It’s moments like these when you self-evaluate. I didn’t choose to be here, but I see people who have been going through this for years, and I feel gratitude. In Australia and at Scotch College, we are incredibly lucky to have the privilege of choice. It is a privilege, and many throughout the world do not benefit from the smorgasbord of choices available to us at Scotch and in Perth. COVID-19 has demonstrated how much we take for granted: the ability to travel, to have relatively easy access to work, and to spend face-to-face time with family and friends. It’s not until our choices are taken away that we miss them and realise, belatedly, how much they mean to us.
What do you do when you can’t choose? COVID-19 is not a choice; cancer is not a choice; being separated from family and friends or being unable to work is not a choice. But these are experiences that many in our society do go through because of, or outside of, the pandemic. When you don’t have options and autonomy, you hand over. It has been my privilege to work in education since 1982, but when faced with my own health crisis, I had no choice but to hand myself over to health specialists and oncologists; my years of educational leadership and academic qualifications suddenly meant very little. I went from being the so-called leader and expert of my chosen field to the participant; having to rely on somebody else with different expertise.
In many ways, losing agency can be liberating. I was able to move into this space where my health and recovery became my primary focus and away from the College because of the systems that I’d put in place. I still cared greatly about the College, but I didn’t worry about it because I trusted the people I’d left behind to steer the ship. This is what you must do; it’s the reality of a crisis. You go from being the so-called expert, from deliverer to receiver, provider to user.
Headmaster Dr Alec O’Connell and James Goldsmith at 100 Days of Pre-Primary, 2021
Humans are incredibly resilient, and my experience has only cemented this knowledge. I don’t mean myself, but others that I have met throughout my life and since being diagnosed. Having no choice drives other forms of decision making. With limited options, you must look closely at what you value in life and appreciate them and reflect on them in ways you might never have done previously. A lack of choice can bring out the best in some and the worst in others. It exposed me to quality people in an entirely different industry; the nurses and other medical staff in the chemo ward are incredible. I commend the work they do and the challenging circumstances in which they persevere. We say we’re busy at Scotch, but I think many people would struggle to survive a day in the Hollywood Hospital Starcevich Ward. The staff there are running. Only one person can press the go button for your infusion, and the ward operates and delegates on trust and, most importantly, ability.
Headmaster Dr Alec O’Connell with graduating students Samuel Bennett and 2021 Captain of School Joshua Ledger at March Out 2021, photographs: Derren Hall
If I compare our organisations, we share in that space where you must be able to delegate and trust the people you work with and where there must be trust by the end-user. I’ve often said to parents, “Do you trust us? Then, why are you making the phone call if that’s the case?” As a leader, trust is imperative. Empowerment and trust are the most important tools you can give to people, and as a leader and manager of many, you need to be able to trust the people who work for and with you.
So, what happens when you give up your leadership? In a hospital, my expertise is not worth a cracker. In many ways, leadership itself is about letting go. Everyone at Scotch College is working at different levels and stages. Teachers and students alike need the agency to test new learning strategies and try new projects. Almost a decade ago, I sent Philosophy Teacher Sam Sterrett on an AISWA (or Association of Independent Schools of Western Australia) trip to explore where Scotch could take our gifted and talented programme. Now, Sam is our Head of Enrichment, and we have multiple staff dedicated to enrichment programmes across disciplines. Sam, alongside Enrichment Leader – STEM, Steve McLean, is also the co-instigator of Studio Scotch – our dedicated podcasting studio, which has seen the rapid development of podcasts by current students, in and out of the classroom, and by our Old Scotch Collegians.
If you lead by letting go, you empower others. Students should be free to make their own mistakes, and as a teacher, if you’re not allowing them to do this, you’re failing to teach problem-solving and resilience – skills they will need in their lives. Culturally, this filters down. If the Council starts interfering with the day-to-day operations of the College, I’m in trouble. If I interfere with everyone else’s job, we’re in trouble. You’ll always have pockets in an organisation that don’t work, but ultimately you need to delegate authority to the right places and the right people. This is why the concept of subsidiarity is so important within all organisations. This social organisation principle holds that social and political issues should be dealt with at the most immediate (or local) level that is consistent with their resolution. Explicitly, do not micromanage.
In life, you won’t like everyone you meet, and you’ll gravitate towards the people you do. Like naturally gravitates towards like. However, whether you like someone or not, it’s important to show them respect and respect the role they play. A student may not like their teacher, but they must respect them and behave appropriately. You must have faith that that person knows what they’re doing. Therefore, I wasn’t worried when the oncologist and other specialists were managing my treatment. Their jobs are to know what they’re doing; my job was to trust and listen to them.
At a school, you must have faith that the institution and those within it know what they’re doing. And that’s empowering; to give someone trust and responsibility for your life and health, or for your child. There is great solace in doing that. It’s cathartic for the individual and those you’re trusting; it’s empowerment and recognition. When you imbue others with this trust, you invite them to step up and demonstrate exactly what they must give. The relationship between teachers and students is very much one of trust. Teaching is a relationship-based process where both parties have something to give. Teachers offer their knowledge and expertise, and students reciprocate with a willingness to learn.
If I have learnt anything through the pandemic and my diagnosis, it’s that our choices are not infinite. Opportunities that are open to you now will not always be there. If you fail to exercise the choices you have, that’s your decision, and you must take responsibility for that. You can’t fall into a mindset of helplessness and victimhood if you have the privilege of acting and the ability to change your life.
Students at Scotch are lucky in that they have a lot more choices than most, and maybe more than even they realise. Choice is a privilege, and we should not become complacent, nor should we assume that they are necessarily normal. COVID-19 has undoubtedly demonstrated this and reminded us how much choice is about perception. If you view the world as one where you lack control, you’ll always be a victim. It’s essential to reflect on the lives of those around you and more widely. Have a look at yourself. Have you become complacent about what you are given? Have things that were once a privilege become an expectation? This is how entitlement forms.
Be grateful for the opportunities you have in life because, in the Scotch community, there are so many available to you. And, above all, take them. As I have learned, nothing is certain, and life is not something you should wait for; otherwise, in the blink of an eye, it may well pass you by.
