As a man of a certain age, all kinds of things that once worked are now in need of repair. Doctors appointments fill my calendar, two pairs of glasses dictate what I can see and how well I can see it, a cranky knee is in a dysfunctional relationship with rainy weather, and sleep is more of a conceptual theory than a consistent practice.
But the one part of my body I could always count on was my gut.
Ew, not that part of my gut.
No, I mean my instincts. My ability to read people, to determine who they are and what they stand for, to keep them at arm’s length or to spread out those arms for a hug.
In fact, I can remember the last time my gut failed me: it was 2001.
Erik was walking down the locker room steps as I was walking up them. A short, sleight junior with frosted tipped, spiked hair, he carried his football pads in one hand as he chewed on his mouth guard ravenously.
I didn’t like him even a little bit.
There was something about his smug expression as he passed me. Like he knew something I didn’t. Thank god he wasn’t in my class.
Until the next year when he was.
And that was the last time my gut failed me. Erik turned out to be one of my favorite students: fiercely loyal to his friends, kind beyond compare, and a massive Dave Matthews Band fan. Just. Like. Me.
Twenty-two years later and Erik and I are still friends. I went to his wedding, and we are part of a roughly thirty person group that goes to a DMB concert together annually. I’m happy to admit that I was wrong about Erik.
As educational leaders, our gut is often our strongest ally. We use it when we investigate recess drama, we use it when we are working with families new to the district, and we use it, most importantly, when we hire.
A dear mentor once told me that his number one job is to find, hire, and support the best people. In order to do that, at least in part, we have to trust our guts.
So throw out the generic interview questions and develop those that challenge applicants to be authentic, not rehearsed.
Lean into that ick feeling the moment it sets in when meeting with a child’s family that just seems off.
Celebrate when your gut told you there was “something about” that applicant right out of undergrad that made you have to hire her. In fact, celebrate by telling her she’s crushing it.
And when you’re gut is wrong, when your life’s Erik presents himself, well, acknowledge that, too. Because you might want to get that checked out.
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