Mary Beth Kinkead
The only sound in the room was the tearing of gift-wrap beneath my hands. I was being celebrated for completing my administrative licensure program and securing a position as an assistant principal in a nearby town.
Despite my leadership training, I still felt I was headed for unfamiliar territory. I had identified all my adult life as a teacher, not an administrator, yet there it was amidst the gift-wrap: a mahogany and brass name plate for my new desk. My colleagues’ applause turned to uproarious laughter as I retrieved the next gift item, a bottle of Advil...empty, and symbolic of my supervising principal’s need for its contents over the course of the past school year. But their laughter rang ominously in my ears; what was I getting myself into? Mercifully, the final item buoyed me: rose tinted sunglasses.Read More