The Puzzle: Blog

For purposes of this story, let’s call him Patrick. This is an inner city coed secondary school on the west coast serving largely low-income black and Hispanic families. Formerly a diocesan school with a sponsored ministry, it had long been spun off and now stands alone as a beacon of hope and aspiration to inner city families. The school was in difficult financial condition for all the reasons one would suspect: declining enrollments, inability of families to pay tuitions, and lack of an enabling vision or strategy to reverse the downward trend. Patrick was excited about the challenge and felt his entrepreneurial skills and passion for equity and access would enable him to turn the school around and put it on a more favorable trajectory.

I caught Patrick at a good time. It was mid-afternoon, and he had just returned to his office from greeting parents and waving to the students and faculty amid the scrum of the day’s parking lot exodus. I was extremely pleased to hear that Patrick’s enthusiasm for this leadership opportunity had not only persisted, but that he seemed even more excited. He talked about the great kids at the school, their wonderful families, his dedicated faculty and supportive board, and how he wakes up every day excited to get back on campus. He also mentioned that a bold new plan had been approved by the board and was gaining traction and enabling him and the board to raise substantial funds. It was everything he had hoped for and more.

And then he uttered the surprising words. “Bob,” he said. “I must tell you, something else is happening with me that I didn’t expect. I find that I am so inspired by this community of faith that I am growing in my own spirituality. I have always been a spiritual person, but now I know what my Catholic faith means to me and how it inspires my leadership.”

Patrick was not describing a conversion experience. He was not suddenly felled from his horse by a bright light from above. Instead, he has rediscovered through his daily ministry the profound meaning of his faith and his purpose as a Catholic school leader. How extraordinary, and how unexpected!

I have been thinking of this conversation and wondering how to make sense of Patrick’s experience—and how it might guide the work I do as a search consultant for Catholic schools. We tend to think of leaders as “givers,” not receivers of inspiration. We think of them as formed adults, built to deliver and execute on demand. Their readiness to lead from day one is often the first quality we seek in school Heads. There is a compelling Latin expression that describes what we habitually seek in a leader: “Nemo dat quod non habet” – You can’t give what you don’t have. And so we tend to seek leaders who “have it all” and are viscerally inclined to give. But what about the capacity to receive, to be open, to grow in place and be enriched in spirit by the institutions and communities we serve? How might this matter? This is surely what’s happening with Patrick, and he and the school are significantly better for it.

Another important element to the story is that Patrick had never led a Catholic school before and had no teaching experience in a Catholic school. Although he was raised in a Catholic family and attended Catholic grammar school, this was his first professional experience in this setting. Many Catholic school boards and search committees reject candidates like Patrick out of hand and insist on deeper grounding in the Catholic school mission and culture. But Patrick was not a jaded Catholic school leader. He did not take for granted the beauty and abundance of grace and faith on campus, the inspiration of weekly masses down the hall from his office, and the constant elevation of campus conversations around faith formation, values, and character development. It is too soon to tell whether Patrick’s spiritual exuberance will be sustained, but after three years it seems solid and enduring.

And so I return to the question of meaning and what to make of this. A number of years ago I attended a Lasallian retreat as part of my own leadership development at the time. Amid the splendid, idyllic mountains of Northern California, we gathered as Catholic school leaders to renew our faith and refresh our purpose. As we transitioned one evening to “magna silentia,” the time of great silence in our retreat, we were asked by the presiding brother to reflect on the following:

“I will bless you, that you may become a blessing.”

I remember retiring to my monastic room that night feeling deeply moved by this profound and touching notion. And, strangely, it returns to move me again. I can picture Patrick walking the corridors of his school: a joyous, faith-filled leader who has been blessed, and in that graceful surround becoming a blessing to others. This is a community of faith growing together in wisdom and spirit. The thought itself is a blessing.

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Thank you for taking the time to read this. As always, I would welcome hearing from you.

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