My time in Addison was great. That’s where the kids grew up. Ruth and I lived there for forty-three years. We didn’t have Michael when we arrived, and he was forty-two, married for more than ten years, when we left.
I was hired on August 16th, 1977, the day Elvis Presley died. Once I knew I could handle the job of building principal, I set my sights on higher goals. I wanted to become a school superintendent. When I was a teacher, I knew what went on in my classroom. Being a building principal felt like I lifted the roof on the entire school and peeked inside each classroom. I got to see how the whole place interacted. I thought being a superintendent would allow me to look inside an entire district, and thus, touch even more lives.
In the beginning I valued teachers who taught how I would have taught. Over time I realized that there’s a lot of ways to get to Cleveland. There’s no one right way for everyone. Some take the most direct route, speeding down the expressway, and some take the back roads. The destination drives the process. We all need to travel our own path.
Some of us learn that early in life. Some wait until the end, and I think some never learn. They get wrapped up in their own thoughts and don’t take time to see the sights along the way.
I thought the best path to gain a job as a superintendent was to earn a doctorate. Upon review of that particular challenge, I learned an Education Specialist degree could be a stop on the way to a doctorate. You develop an expertise in a specific area of study: curriculum and instruction, community education, special education, educational leadership, or elementary education. I chose educational leadership.
Doctorates require research into a specific topic and a dissertation. To be honest, the idea of writing a dissertation didn’t appeal to me.
I remembered Burton Cave’s advice about gaining varying perspectives from different universities, so I applied to Michigan State’s Specialist program and was accepted. I went part time over a three-year period to earn my degree. Once I had it, I applied for a couple superintendent positions.
I interviewed to become superintendent of Kaleva Norman Dickson Schools around 1985. I was serving as principal of Addison’s Middle and Elementary Schools at the time. That job would have meant living in the Manistee National Forest. It was rural. If you do a google search, you’ll find this.
Kaleva Norman Dickson Schools is a K-12 school district located in the heart of the Manistee National Forest surrounded by beautiful forests and rivers in the eastern half of Manistee County. The district covers over 350 square miles. It is located 20 minutes from Lake Michigan. It is approximately 25 miles east of Manistee and 35 miles west of Cadillac. Its area is covered in a wilderness setting with many natural features including the Big and Little Manistee Rivers, the Manistee National Forest, the Pine River, and Bear Creek.
As I drove into town for the interview, I noted a buck pole with about three dozen deer hanging. It was definitely a community point of pride. The interview went well and at one point they asked if I hunted. I said, “No. I’m more inclined to shoot with a camera than a gun.”
There were two women on the board, and I knew they liked me. They asked me about innovative programs that I’d instituted in Addison. I spoke briefly of starting a parent/teacher organization, having both math and reading experts conduct specialized instruction in elementary classrooms, instituting a special education inclusion program, team teaching in our elementary school, and a family style lunch program. The two women, both stay at home moms, liked the family style lunch program and asked me several questions about it. They asked very few about parent/teacher organizations, team teaching, or inclusion programs. I explained the ins and outs of a family style lunch program, and I knew I had them.
To be fair to them, you ask questions you know something about. That way you can judge the validity of the answer. They understood how to care for a family, so programs that promoted families fell within their area of expertise.
A few days later I got a call from the board president. I was one of two finalists. “To be honest, it’s your job if you want it. You’re the number one candidate for six of us.” I turned down the second interview.
Moving to the middle of the Manistee National Forest meant uprooting our three from the school and friends they loved. It also meant living on a single income again, as Ruth would have to give up her job teaching in Adrian. We had a life that was working. Making that move would have required a lot of change for the five of us. The career advancement didn’t outweigh the family turmoil it would have created.
That was another big decision, but one we never regretted.
TBC