I have a pretty good sense of humor. I didn’t start out that way-I remember as a young girl sitting quietly in a movie theater with others who were openly laughing at one scene or another. I would either not laugh at all, or my laughing would be delayed until I eventually got the joke. I took everything seriously and envied those who seemed to walk more lightly through life.
In 1997, I joined a team of teachers who were genuinely funny. I would leave our monthly meetings with a stitch in my side after laughing for what seemed like hours. The group had the ability to combine serious problem-solving with humor that I had never before experienced. For example, a conversation about student confidentiality led to our assigning made-up names to any student we discussed. We rolled out a string of names unlikely in our southwest region—Shaniqua and Shaboodah, for example—to refer to our students by. We were dealing with real challenges and issues, but we kept the tone light by injecting it with just a little bit of silliness.
My understanding of others’ humor hasn’t always been first rate, but I’ve been able to laugh at myself since way back. I’ll be the first to share my most embarrassing moments at informal gatherings, like the time I scooped up a handful of Christmas candies at a party and realized they were decorative wax after tossing them into my mouth. I didn’t miss a beat in the conversation before ducking into the bathroom to spit them out. Or the time I wore a dress with a mid-thigh slit in it to my high school teaching job (I was 22) and faced unending teasing from high school boys. Or when, while rushing to leave a college biology lecture, I tripped and fell—my polyester skirt catching under my knees and causing me to slide down the steps… slowly, one step at a time, until I reached the bottom and picked myself up.
But managing humor as a leader is challenging. Because of one’s position, judgment by others unfortunately accompanies any potentially humorous moment. I learned this the hard way when I was a new school principal, sitting with colleagues at a particularly tedious training refresher on state testing. “I’m so done you could stick a fork in me,” I stated, slumping in my chair and suddenly realizing I’d used an outdoor voice to share this wisdom when all eyes fell upon me. I learned that while I still felt like one of the gang, my behavior was perceived differently in my new position.
But that doesn’t mean a leader stops laughing, saying funny things, or seeing the humor in situations just because she has a serious role. I loved the pranks teachers at my school played on each other—and on me. Perhaps my favorite was the kidnapping of a holiday moose that played tunes every time you passed it in the hall. A series of ransom notes followed, and it was finally located at the top of the flagpole on the school’s grounds.
The ability to have a little fun at work—to see the humorous side of things—has helped me stay positive and truly enjoy waking up every morning, excited to go to work. I cherish light-hearted moments where we take a little break from the seriousness of our work and laugh. Don’t be afraid to have fun, but you might want to consider an “appropriateness filter” to ensure that your leadership role is not unduly compromised. (Duly compromised is another matter, of course.)