Our Hike Through the Woods

By Sandra M. Dattilo

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Several weeks ago, I was fortunate enough to enjoy the cool fall air during a hike. The trees had once again magically dressed themselves in the bright reds, oranges and yellows that they seem to do every autumn without fail. I was not alone as I took in the splendour, I was hiking with a couple of friends. We casually kicked up some leaves as we walked along haphazardly, scattered in a line.

The leader, at one point, slowed down and relinquished her position to me. We continued on our journey for a few steps further when I slowed to a stop and waited for the other two to catch up. The sodden path, which twisted its way through the trees, was wide enough at most parts for us to walk side-by-side. They looked at me curiously and I simply said, Do not walk in front of me, I may not follow. Do not walk behind me, I may not lead. Walk beside me and be my friend. David asked me to repeat what I had said and I did. Both of my hiking companions thought about it for a second and smiled. They liked it.

More recently, I have found myself thinking about this adage in a different context. I have followed, been led and travelled side-by-side with others along the trail towards professional development in education and teaching.

Those who have walked in front of me have included so-called experts, administrative heads, principals and people linked in some way or another to "The Board". Who were they and what were their names? They must have known what I needed, or so someone thought, because after all they had been sent to rescue me from being lost in the heavily treed forest of teaching. I followed compliantly in hopes that they would lead me through the trees to a clearing. There seemed to be no need to offer my voice to any decisions about what direction they would take me, how fast we would go or how we would get there. I willingly surrendered responsibility for my own progression on the journey. I chose to follow passively and I placed the onus of my professional development on the leader.

I have also been thrust to the front of the line on several occasions. I was the temporary trail guide, responsible for guiding the followers to a point that I had successfully reached. I embraced the opportunity to share what I had grown to know and hoped that I could help others to experience the same trip. My voice was being heard and someone was listening!

But hold on a second. If this was set up to help others, how come I felt like I was excluding the others? At the end of the day's journey, this often caused me to feel dissatisfied. I felt that I had not substantially grown professionally and that I had not really helped anyone else either -- the situation felt artificial. I was forcing "my way" on others, as if the choices that I had made would be the right ones for them. Did anything I had to say hit home with anyone who sat there and listened to me? I do not know the answer to that question because I often did not stop to ask. Instead of walking with others and chatting along the path, I simply ran ahead on my own taking time to yell a few things back to the rest. I was the leader of my trip and tried to take on the same role on the primary teachers' trip, the guidance counsellors' trip, the experienced teachers' trip.

Leadership is a quality that most teachers possess. Is the role of leader taken or given? The task of transmitting knowledge comes fairly easily to most in this profession. The connections, understanding and extensions associated with what is learned and what is known is the challenging part. In what area do I want to improve? How can I work towards a solution? How do I use what I have learned? What does this mean to other teachers?

My dictionary defines "leader" as "chief, head, someone who shows the way." The most interesting definition, however, was "the principal role in a situation or play". In the pursuit for professional development, shouldn't the principal role be given to (or taken by) the individual who is undergoing the development, namely , the teacher? After all, it is the personal travel along the trail that will lead to growth.

The guide role, however, has traditionally been given to an outsider, someone who has "been there, done that". The principal role in this case has been awarded to the wrong player! The true leaders should be the teachers who are taking responsibility for improving their practice. The teacher leads his or her own personal journey while travelling along side others. The trip is more satisfying when an opportunity to collaborate is made possible and the journey made less gruelling.

I have taken the largest steps towards my professional development when I have stopped along the way to reflect on where I am and how I got there. Only then, when things were more clear in my mind, did I feel ready to talk with others. I realize that I can facilitate change in other people by abandoning altogether the aim of trying to change them. Instead, I provide them the opportunity to grow, be themselves and support what choices they make.

The trail marked Action Research is one that I have not formally travelled until recently. At the trailhead, each individual is permitted and encouraged to take the map in hand. Choices as to how, when and where we go are voiced by the individual and decided upon collectively. We help each other along while taking the journey in our own hands. Action research gives me a voice. and allows me to lead myself on my journey towards professional growth. Along the way, I share what I have learned and learn fro m what others share with me. At the end, my trip map will have a different route marked on it, than the maps others have followed. On our journey, I choose not to lead or to follow but rather to walk beside you and be your friend. I hope that you will do the same for me.

I noticed this morning that most of the leaves have fallen to the ground and I looked back fondly on our hike. I was kept busy looking out for puddles on the path and simultaneously taking in the beautiful colours of the leaves that hung so delicately from trees that surrounded us. Thankfully, Leigh warned me on several occasions to look out for branches that hung low overhead. I was able to return the gesture by telling her to beware of the muddy puddle that I had just stomped in.

We continued until we came to a fork in the path and decided together which way to go. Our choice had led us to a dead end so we turned around, retraced our path and headed onto a different part of the trail. This time the path led us to a creek where we had to jump from rock to rock in order to cross without getting wet. David slipped but I managed to grab his arm quickly before his feet ended up in the water.! He regained his balance and thanked me . I simply smiled and said, "That's what friends are for." We spent most of the day in the woods but I don't recall for exactly how long. I do remember that in the end, I felt exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. The fresh air, stunning scenery and good company fed my spirit and my efforts were rewarded by a renewed sense of inner peace.

[ I cannot recall where I first read the adage referred to in the second paragraph but I wish to acknowledge the author's prophetic use of simple words to create such and elegant message.]