In times like these there is no room for 'glass half-empty' leadership.

As a naturalised 'Eastern-Caper', one of my favourite drives is the route from Graaf-Reinet to Bedford. It is there that I feel that I am in the absolute heart of the Eastern Cape. I am struck by its vastness, its beautiful vistas of quintessential terrain. Aloe-dotted rolling hills of incredible biodiversity provide a multitude of changing vistas as one transitions from the dusty Karoo towards Bedford, and then on to the pristine coastline. Most striking of all for me are the big skies and wide open spaces.

 

How odd that when we think of landscapes we tend to imagine them as places of nothingness, as if the richness of nature and the beauty of  creation has no meaning without clustered humanity being the centre of attention. 

 

Timothy Ingold, professor of Social Anthropology at the University of Aberdeen once expressed it thus: “the landscape tells - or rather is - a story. It enfolds the lives and times of predecessors who, over the generations, have moved around in it and played their part in its formation. To perceive the landscape is therefore to carry out an act of remembrance, and remembering is not so much a matter of calling up an internal image, stored in the mind, as of engaging perpetually with the environment that is itself pregnant with the past” 

 

And so, rather than imagining a landscape as an empty vista, I imagine it as rich and full. Not simply a thing of beauty, but of function and meaning. If we stop to listen to it, it has many lessons to teach. 

 

As leaders in schools, we live in challenging times (the world is, undoubtedly, in a mess) and are preparing our students for unimagined complexity.  Our core function as leaders is to visualise and give life to the future - and to do so in a way that inspires out students to be confident, positive contributors. In challenging times there is no room for 'glass half-empty' leadership. 

 

In times like these it is always useful to remember that there have always been time like these. I is  too easy to fall victim to negativity and quick pseudo analysis of current events. We do, without doubt, live in interesting times, full of challenge.

 

But when conversation turns to what can become overwhelming analysis of the current global crises and national uncertainty it helps to remember that the issues that we face, while nuanced and at times complex,  are not unique.  In times like these, it helps to recall that there have always been times like these. 

 

1066, 1776, 1815, 1899, 1914, 1930, 1960, 1976 - in common with humanity from the beginning of history, our life is full of challenge and circumstance. Like an open landscape, challenging times  provide some incredible opportunities for learning and growth - they are a teacher of many lessons.

 

They teach us that, while self-reliance is a good thing, being able to rely on others and having a strong team of support is better. 

 

They teach that routine is comfortable, but in disruption comes great opportunity to try new things, to discover different ways of doing things, and not be scared of failure.

 

They teach that however bad we may think that we have it, there are many others who struggle more than we do, and we are thus called to find ways of being a positive contributor to our communities.

 

I have learned that when events seem too complex to manage, a focus on the small things will carry a person through. And that in the absence of a guiding precedent, turning to core values provides the guidance we need to get to the other side. 

 

And I have learned never, ever, to take anything for granted - to savour each moment that I have the privilege of living this fleeting life. 

I once took a drive through the Eastern Cape to Bedford, and on the way I stopped to admire the view from the top of the Helspoort pass. From up there the landscape paints a homogenous picture – trees rendered tiny by perspective, with ancient wagon trails snaking below big skies. Of course,  the whole hides the fact the down below lies an ecosystem ranging from soil mineralogy to incredible animal biodiversity, and everything in between. So too, a school is so much more than bricks and mortar – it’s a complicated ecosystem, but essentially a human enterprise, united by values and legacy to create a space for our students to flourish. 

 

The future is not some mysterious thing out there that will happen to us. Quite the opposite, in fact, the future is here now, alive and well in hearts and minds of the young people in our schools. As agents of our own destiny, we have the ability to turn the open landscape before us into a masterpiece.