Intention Part 1: When you know why you're doing it, you're doing it with intention.

“We’re making brownies tonight,” said the house parent in a residential program. I was making rounds in the cottages where students lived and learned daily living skills while attending school. Interesting, I thought. That’s what they were doing the last time I’d stopped by on a weekday evening. The activity was well-planned, with picture cards for the students with low vision to follow and braille for those who were blind. But when I asked why they had chosen this particular recipe this particular night, the answer was essentially, “we’re making brownies.”

This is a snapshot that brought me back to my early days as an Orientation and Mobility instructor and as a supervisor for O&M interns. The lesson I tried to drive home is simple: every time you teach something, you should know why you are teaching it. Think critically about how the lesson fits in with the student’s overall program, and decide which lesson fits best with the chosen goal. Repetition isn’t out of the question—in fact, it’s a key part of teaching. Students need repeated opportunities to master certain skills. There is purpose in repetition if it is done intentionally. But if you’re repeating a lesson simply because it’s Wednesday night, I urge you to think critically about what you are doing—and why you are doing it.

Now let’s think about this concept in leadership terms. Intentionality is critical for a leader. In fact, if you are random in your initiatives and do not clearly communicate their purpose, you may never gain the attention and trust of your followers. Here’s an example.

My beginnings as interim principal for a school for the blind were rocky. I came home from my first staff meeting, in fact, in tears. I’d done everything by the book: handed out an agenda in print and braille, varied the activities within the meeting itself, asked for input from attendees, etc. What should have been a fruitful meeting was instead filled with chaos. People talked amongst themselves, positioned themselves as far away from me as possible, and answered my queries either not at all or with rude, badgering replies. I was pretty sure my leadership days had started and ended at that meeting, and I was ready to give up.

Fortunately, I slept on the notion of quitting, and I decided to become more deliberate in my communication. At the next meeting, I did several things differently. First, I set up the room in a way where there were few opportunities for back-of-the-room behavior. Second, I clearly stated the purpose of the meeting and my expectations for the staff. I gently called them out on their past behavior-acknowledging it and then outlining what I hoped for instead. Then whenever we veered from our intended direction, I brought people back in.

Once people settled into the new routine, one that was driven by intention and purpose that I had clearly communicated to them, transformation occurred. Truly, the staff who had brought me to tears eventually became one of the most motivated and enthusiastic groups I have ever worked with.

In all the leadership positions I have held since, I have done very few things without reason. Whatever I initiate, I develop a plan around it—and communicate it as needed. And when I get stuck in a routine, I nudge myself to make an intentional change in order to achieve better results.

People don't change. People can change. part 2

As I set out to form my thoughts around the concept that people don’t change (Part 1 of this pair of blogs), my brain was bombarded with memories where I had witnessed significant change in others. Thus, this Part 2: People can change.

When I was a young TVI, I had a boss who had great potential as a new special education director. He did some goofy things: took the cane I was holding and pretended to be blind as he negotiated the hallway of our offices. “’Give me your tired, give me your poor.’ That’s your attitude about any and every child you meet,” he said, mocking me for overcommitting. But he accepted me— not as a 20-something who didn’t have a clue but as someone who could be molded through his insights. And in turn, he listened to my thoughts and perspectives, and sometimes changed his behavior as a result.

There was one incident in particular that stands out: I was going on and on to him about a challenging situation in one of my schools. I honestly can’t remember what it was about, but I know I was asking—no, whining—for his help. “What do you expect me to do?” he finally asked, exasperated. “I expect you to act like the leader you are and manage the situation,” I said, unflinching. My words were blunt, perhaps a bit insubordinate. Instead of putting me in my place, he looked at me hard and said, “Okay. I’ll take a look at it.” And he did. It was my first experience in a job where a supervisor openly considered my call for change—and then changed. In fact, after that encounter, this leader periodically used me as a sounding board for next steps in challenging situations. And in his willingness to change, he gave me an important leadership stone: no matter who you are or where you are in your leadership journey, listening to each other, considering a different approach, and changing accordingly, is invaluable.

Let’s look at the bigger picture. For people to really change, it has to be sustainable and supported throughout the organization. Here’s an example. When I was a new interim principal at a school for the blind, I was taken back by the pervasive negativity of the staff. It was so bad, in fact, that the evening after my first faculty meeting, I cried. Not just a little tearing up—full on sobs. What had I done, leaving a job I’d enjoyed and taking on a challenge for which I was ill prepared? My careful agenda, designed to engage and inspire, had quickly gone down the tubes as teachers interrupted, talked among themselves, and refused to participate in the group activities I had planned.

Over time, however, the staff began to trust me and participated in meetings in a meaningful way. We even had some fun, and I knew I had met with some success when they started playing practical jokes on me. (That’s a leadership stone, by the way. When your staff trusts you enough to play a joke on you and you all laugh about it and no one is offended, it means you’ve built a culture of trust.) If someone made a negative comment, I was able to say, “Hey, you’re not the underdog anymore. Let’s keep it positive,” and things would turn around. The tone of our meetings and the school’s culture transformed.

After nearly five years in that position, an opportunity came up that I could not refuse. It was a dream job really, leading the country’s oldest school for the blind. I left my principal position six weeks after my interview. I thought I had positioned the school in a way where the positivity and camaraderie were sustainable. We had put so many positive things in place, we had climbed out of an IEP nightmare, and our enrollment was great.

After I had been gone for a while and revisited with colleagues, I learned that things had turned negative again. My leadership stone here: change is slow and laborious. But in order for it to “take,” it has to be nurtured every step of the way and on into the future. Nothing about leadership is “one and done.” For people to change in a meaningful way, they must understand the need to change, focus on the key item(s) that need to change, and find support from leaders and colleagues in sustaining that change.