Last week, I navigated between three different identities within 48 hours.
I started as a systems coach within the educational service agency for which I work.
I supported leadership teams engaged in a fall data inquiry process.
The next day, I donned my pin as I opened up our local independent bookstore.
Minutes after closing the bookstore, I swapped out my bookseller pin for my Lions Club Past President recognition as I headed on over to our annual fall fundraiser.
The pins serve as identifiers for others. They let people know what our roles are, how we fit within the system, and how we might support or interact with others.
You would think these symbols of my identities would make things easier in my daily life. Keep things clean.
What I have found is they can limit how I engage in my contexts. I don’t stop being one person when I leave that context or people’s perceptions.
I’m notorious for recommending books in my role as a systems coach. I sometimes even preemptively apologize prior to suggesting a favorite text (“This is just what I do…”)
During Lions Club meetings, I think about how my purpose as a systems coach - helping schools achieve more equitable outcomes - could be leveraged within this organization that focuses on supporting individuals with sight and hearing challenges.
For former colleagues who worked with me as a principal, I am not just a bookseller; I am knowledgeable about children’s literature.1
I bring this up as a point of resistance to the continued dichotomizing of instructional positions and practices in education.
For example, when presented with an instructional coach vs. principal Venn diagram that delineated responsibilities of each role in education, and it places “partners with teachers” solely in the hands of the coach.
Or when skills and strategies are the default solution to why kids aren’t reading, even when factors such as motivation and engagement or executive functioning show clear influences on a reader’s success.
The identities have a function. They help us categorize in a complex world. But they stop serving their purpose of supporting our sense-making when we develop limited views of the potential and possibilities.
As you head into next week, how might you resist these identities and simple stories as you engage in your important work?2
Enjoyed this post? Share it with a colleague!
I wrote more about expanding one’s identity as an instructional leader, beyond only “evaluator”, in pages 15-18 of my book Leading Like a C.O.A.C.H.