Endurance Leadership part V: Fear of a DNF or How to Fail like a Leader

Failure... It happens to everyone. The problem is many of us feel that we are beyond that, which makes it sting a bit more when it occurs. In schools, failure is indicated by the letter F. I, myself, have had my fair share of these while in school. I wasn’t a terrible kid, but had a problem with turning in work and following the rules. Looking back, I can relate to how easy it is for a student to get used to that simple red letter, F. For some, it becomes a forgone conclusion, the “F” is always around the corner.

Schools, as a whole, face the same problem. Schools are graded, rated, and judged based on student success and data. As opposed to student’s grades, sound bites and snippets are published and shared for all to see. A school’s “failure” becomes very public and often ugly, which is not normally in the best interest of the students. For many schools, the hole that gets dug is too deep to escape. The cycle is set and failure is around every turn. Failure becomes the reality of the school and hopelessness can consume the culture.

In racing, failure receives three letters to identify your short comings. Racers who do not complete the course or miss cut off times are given a DNF (did not finish). I have received two DNFs over my years of racing, both while competing in triathlon. The first was in Knoxville and resulted from me suffering the early stages of hypothermia on the bike stage of a race. It was cold and rainy. I had already swam a mile in the Tennessee River that was a balmy 56 degrees. I was at a point I could no longer hold my bike on the road due to shivering. I stopped when I had a mechanical problem at mile 45 and I could not use my hands to fix my bike. A local deputy asked if I wanted a ride. I knew what I had to do in the moment. I had failed. I had to ask for a ride back in that sheriff’s cruiser with my head hung in shame.

The second occurred in the last 8 miles of Ironman Chattanooga in 2018. I was undertrained and dehydrated as I reached the water station at mile 18 of the marathon. I could barely stand and felt light headed. I had been on the course, one of most difficult courses in Ironman, for 12 hours. In the dark, I sat down for a moment. A volunteer asked what I needed. I couldn’t answer. They then asked if they should call for the medical unit. I nodded yes. I stepped on to the medical golf cart and again hung my head in shame. When I arrived at the medical tent, I was assessed and given...wait for it...a bottle of water. That was the kiss of death to my ego. This failure just turned into an epic failure.

I have been told I in the past that I have an ego, maybe a bit overbearing, and have a swagger in my step (just ask my wife). In both of these DNFs, I sulked for months upon months over the fact that I DID NOT FINISH. I could not shake the feeling of failure. It consumed me. I had previously completed both races. It didn’t matter to me. On those two days, I just was not good enough. I forgot the countless other races that I had completed. My personal records (PRs) didn’t mean squat. I was a big ol’ fat loser, who had punked out when the chips were down. At least, that’s what I told myself. My ego was officially crushed.

When faced with a task or change in our school, we, as leaders, need to keep in mind the long term goals of our organization’s well-being. This is the responsibility we take when we assume the role of school leader. This may mean that you might have to sacrifice your own ego and vision for the sake of the group’s well-being. Change is tough and can be painful. However, there is a very distinct difference in pain and injury. If the change is going to “injure” your school to the point it will have a long lasting impact on the staff and students, it is our job to suck it up and take the hit to our ego. We have to pull the plug. Proving that you are right in a situation means little when you have damaged the foundation of the group and lost relationships of those you rely on. For the Type A individual, this is really hard.

So, how do we deal with this? I have pushed hard for things in my school. Some changes were successful and others were failures. No matter how many things I got right, I always focused on the things that still needed to be done. I assume many principals are like me. You are likely a very driven person that love the idea of pushing forward until the job is finished. We internalize and reflect on the most minuscule things. When our school fails to accomplish something or fails to meet our expectations, how do we move forward? We must rise up, adjust our strategy, and get back to work.

The truth is, failure is all about what you perceive the “finish” line to be. In those races that I DNF’d, my mind was focused on the physical finish line. I ignored the fact that through the process I had become healthier than ever and had enjoyed hours with my friends training. Yes, I did not cross the line but I was physically able to start from square one to try the course again. I also had knowledge of what did and did not work, which has improved my performance in all of my races. What I found was I had to reestablish what I considered the finish line. I had to stop focusing on the short game and look towards the long game. I could live in the moment but had to focus on the future.

Our students are no different than we are. That student that gets that letter F feels the same as we do about failure. They may have learned to accept it. If we, as leaders and educators, can focus on the long game and show the student that failing is not an indication of character but an indication of a problem that can most likely be fixed. If we keep working at it, then we can fix it. We need to stop focusing on the short term failure and focus on what is needed to be successful.

As school leaders, educators, and human beings, we will inevitably leave something unfinished. It could be any number of things that you may fall short in. The key to moving forward is how we perceive failure. We, as leaders, can flip the perspective for our school, staff, and students. We have to lead by example and model the process of refocusing, addressing the problem, and moving forward. We only truly fail when we choose not to move forward and try again. Setbacks, though ego crushing, are part of the process of growth. We hope that our students can lean from their mistakes. We are no different than our students. We must learn to embrace our mistakes as part of the learning process.

Every setback is a lesson in life on so many levels. This is why I choose to redefine the term DNF, did not finish, to stand for something that is more appropriate for schools. DO NOT FAIL! Do not fail your school. Do not fail your students. Do not fail in life. Stand tall and move forward toward your goals. Continue to grow. Work hard to take that student and your school to the next level. The course is long but you are better prepared than others. You have the knowledge of what doesn’t work and the pitfalls ahead. Use your wisdom as you go and focus on, without fear of, the DNF.

Next week- What is in Your Tool Kit?

Till then... Stay Sharp Dr. S