A year ago July and this past August, my wife and I had the good fortune of witnessing the joyous weddings of our two sons; so, with all of the preparations and excitement over, I have had romance on my mind… along with running a school. I have come to the conclusion that the similarities between a head's relationship with a school and the romance between two people are not all that different.
Romances start with a courtship — the search. I have often heard that a head search is like doing a dance. The candidate and the search committee glide through the process, avoiding stepping on each other's toes, while at the same time, moving with confidence and grace. As I imagine the dance, I see Al Pacino in the movie Scent of a Woman when he is dancing the tango and, in spite of the fact that he is blind, his movements are closely coordinated with his partner in a way that seems impossible, effortless, and naturally exhilarating, something like a successful search process.
Most of the time, a search dance ends in a wedding where the head and board take their vows and sign a contract for a period of time. At my older son's wedding, I watched a slideshow of the lives, family, and friends of my son and his wife; and at the end, where it captures the beauty of their love for one another, you hear Al Jarreau singing, "We're in This Love Together," which, for me, parallels the close relationship and ministry of the head and a school. Like Frank Boyden, the legendary head of Deerfield Academy (Massachusetts), the marriage can last 67 years; for others, it ends as a brief affair in less than a year.
What is it that causes some marriages to endure while others dissolve? When speaking at my older son's rehearsal dinner, I referenced a New York Times Magazine article written by Laurie Abraham where she writes of a marriage therapist stating two axioms, "First, romantic love isn't known for its long-lasting adhesive properties; and second, no one is as deeply invested in a marriage as the two people in it." Let's face it, marriage, whether it is between two people or between a head and a school, takes hard work, perseverance, and trust.
The consummation of the marriage of two people typically culminates the evening of the wedding. This mystery, comingling, and exploration were eloquently depicted in Ian McEwan's recent book Chesil Beach. The marriage of a head and school is often consummated when the first crisis strikes and the partners scramble to satisfy parents, students, alumni/ae, trustees, and faculty, and, in the end, recover by assessing each other's loyalty, grit, and commitment to the school — and each other.
After the marriage, couples are given a brief period of time together to get used to each other, see what it is like to be together "legally," and calculate how the toothpaste tube is handled and the care in which a toilet seat is adjusted after each use. Such is the case with a head and school, although I've never really understood the head-school honeymoon. A honeymoon is supposed to be a joyous, relaxing event. Maybe it's called a honeymoon because the board and school back off for a year — well, maybe three months — before everyone begins to press the head into doing what they want her/him to do. At the same time, the head can say, "I inherited that problem, I certainly would not have let that happen on my watch." Soon, though, a head has to say, this is my school and I am responsible for what is (or is not) happening. Ultimately, a school is strongest when the head and board take responsibility for the life of the school, sharing the challenges and joys along the way.
Marriages are often ignited by romance, but, over time, it is trust, empathy, sacrifice, a sense of humor, good communication, and compromise that fuel the life of the union. With trust and loyalty in place, it becomes all about how I take care of you that builds the relationship. Having faith that taking care of you will bring security and happiness to me. That same Abraham article went on to say that the best way to strengthen a marriage is to "build a culture of appreciation" and regularly compliment your partner. Experience suggests that heads work their hardest when they are appreciated by the school community — the entire school community, including trustees, parents, faculty, and students. It fuels their desire to care for what has become their responsibility: a successful school, a successful marriage.
At my younger son's wedding, I took the occasion to tell those gathered what Mary Pipher wrote in her book Another Country, when she asked a man who was married to the same woman for 50 years, "What do you attribute to the fact that you have stayed with the same woman for that long?" His reply was, "When I get up in the morning and head to the bathroom, I look into the mirror and say, 'you aren't so hot either.'" How many times have you, as a head, asked that question when you are being critical of your board chair? And, does the board ask that same question of itself when referring to you?
If romance is about relationships, dancing thoughtfully, not taking each other for granted, appreciation, and love — yes, love — then we can all celebrate marriage whether it is between two people or between a head and school.