munificence: the quality of showing unusual generosity.
Origin: early 15c., from M.Fr. munificence, from L. munificentia, from comp. stem of munificus “generous, bountiful, liberal,” lit. “present-making,” from munus (gen. muneris) “gift or service, duty, office” (see municipal) + unstressed stem of facere “to do” (see factitious).
Instructional coaching has been a part of my high school for 6 or 7 years. I’m in my 2nd year of coaching after last year of being half time teacher and half time coach. I worked with another half time coach who had been coaching here half time for a few years. Last year was like a transition year for me from teacher to coach.
As full time instructional coaching this year rolls into the “honeymoon is over” phase, I have been making some adjustments as are the building administrators. What high school coaching was in my high school is in the process of evolving into what coaching needs to be.
The internal dialogue I’m having revolves around defining my role. The confusion is in part from the amount of time I confer with administrators which appears that coaching is an arm of administration. The other source of confusion is that I’m on a teaching contract and I’ve been a teacher for 11 years in the same building I coach, so I’m still a teacher in my view but it’s not so clear to the teachers I’m now expected to coach.
Overall, coaching has been incredibly interesting, engaging, and humbling for me. Those are all good adjectives. Those are the kind of adjectives that reward my teaching career. So there’s no confulsion there.
The difference of changing from teenagers to adults has been mostly what I expected. The clarifications and adjustments have been reasonable and not a source of confusion for me or for building administrators.
The confusion comes when I’m offering professional development options to teachers who are expected to follow new district expectations. By offering help and support to adapt to these changes, it appears that the coach is the enforcer rather than the teacher willing and able to help.
The line between enforcer and support person has not been distinct enough for everyone to discern the difference. No one knew it would be that difficult. We know now and we are proceeding with more experience, more knowledge, and more flexibility.
That brings me back to me as coach. I’m still a teacher. I don’t want to be an administrator. I want to be a teacher. The administrators need me to be a teacher. We’ve worked out, in detail, modifications that allow me to be the teacher.
How did this get worked out so that we are all feeling OK about instructional coaching?
Short answer: munificence.
I’ve learned the power of munificence.
I’ll not become the enforcer or the expert on teaching. I have never and would never in the future claim to know better than the teachers I’m coaching. They’re some of the most skilled, dedicated, and passionate people I’ve ever known.
What I will become is a teacher of munificence, because the teacher heart just has to share. What I can offer is a reminder of the munificent nature of teaching as my colleagues and I do our best to improve instruction in ways required of us by our district, by our students, and by our own sense of needing to be good at what we do.
Munificence is my new favorite word. Munificence can open doors to communication; it can light the way out of the dark tunnel of frustration; it can calm the cacophony of bickering and dissent; and it can bring a teacher back into sync with his or her teacher heart.
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