Choosing Myself: Reconsidering My Purpose
- Simon Lee
- Aug 24
- 6 min read
I have always appreciated and valued the networking opportunities and sharing of best practice through professional platforms, such as LinkedIn. However, I have recently realised that it is rare to see posts about people struggling at work, having difficulties of some kind. My observation over the years has been that the majority of posts are about self-promotion, such as a new role, a new qualification etc, which is wonderful. If we are proud of a recent achievement, let us shout about it wherever someone will hear us. That being said, I could not help but think that it is a shame that we do not often allow ourselves to be fully and truly honest and authentic.
I had questions:
On LinkedIn, do we all have to prove how successful we are?
Is exposing our vulnerability frowned upon?
Is LinkedIn a place where we can be open and honest with each other, and with potential new employers?
Or is that reserved for drinks with friends or sessions with your therapist?
With the exception of the occasional motivational post and tagline, I rarely see posts about how people are really feeling in their professional lives, and yet I do not understand why. Therefore, stop reading now if you are not interested in my story. My professional struggles told through this, my first ever blog post at the ripe young age of 52.
This (northern hemisphere) summer, I spent a month back in Europe, switching off and decompressing after another stressful and extremely challenging term. It was decision time as my contract was up for renewal.
After three years in my current role as a Head of School, I was about to embark on my fourth and final(?) year, and my employer needed to know if I wished to stay on and renew my contract. The owners had already confirmed that they wanted me to stay, which felt great, but also confusing. For the first time in my adult life I genuinely did not know what to do. I was at a crossroads and could not make up my mind in which direction I should turn. How was I going to resolve the internal conflict that stemmed from the fear of the unknown? The anxiety of once more giving up a respectable job without anything to move on to? If I were to stay, I would also need to find a way to overcome the frequent stress and frustrations that I had been facing. I decided to take time to focus on what I was finally able to realise was most important; me, or more specifically, my mental health. I chose to put myself first and let the rest of it come to me when it was time.
I focused my reflection on the Japanese concept of IKIGAI. I do not claim to be the first person to have written about this nor am I an expert, but what I understand is that the concept is driven by aspects of our life that help us to find a reason for being. I asked myself the following questions:
What do I love?
What am I good at?
What does the world need from me?
What are my passions
What is my mission?
I also threw in for good measure:
What are my personal values?
Unlike the last time I was forced to make a career-related decision in 2020 during the Covid-19 pandemic, this was very different. I am older and contemplating retirement, but I did not yet feel ready to walk away completely. I realised that being too immersed in the problems prevented me from seeing the possible solutions. I often said to my therapist that I could not see the tunnel never mind the light at the end of it. I work with incredible teams in education and administration who are fantastic professionals, and I am lucky to have an amazing leadership team around me who are always there for each other. Together over the last 3 years we have achieved so much and transformed the school to the exceptional place it is today. I have a good salary and package, so why would I consider leaving? The answer was simple; I am not happy. This reminded me of my personal mantra:
"I will continue to do something for as long as I am happy."
Now I realised that I needed to live by that mantra. My reflections prompted me to consider my personal value of respect.
Respect is a rare commodity, and something I have learned to be extremely challenging to promote and encourage within a school community. Respect is one of my current school's values. However, in an increasingly fragmented society, the journey has felt increasingly more difficult as I struggle up hill, trying to promote a sense of inclusion and belonging. This applies to Simon on a personal level and not only to Mr Lee and his colleagues. Simon has always felt the need to hide behind the professional who could never let down his guard. Or so I thought.
Belonging versus diversity
Working in an environment where we cannot use the D word - diversity - because of the continued misunderstandings surrounding the word has been exhausting, coupled with teachers walking on egg shells for fear of complaints from parents. There were a number of serious - but rare - incidents at school in the second half of last academic year that really shook me, and I spent a number of weeks of my holiday reliving and reflecting on the episodes in order to try to process and make sense of it all. I was in recovery.
The conclusion I reached was that I am not fully aligned with some of the practices of the school, which is OK. This is not a criticism of the organisation but a professional realisation. After all, not every school is right for every professional, and we never know a place until we start to work there. We often talk about how much time we spend at school or work, and how important it is to feel happy there. I now also appreciate the importance and power of feeling like we belong somewhere, and the impact it has when you do not feel it. How does this align - or not - with my personal values? My challenge would be to find a school where I do I feel I belong.
Most importantly, my six weeks of reflecting helped me to confirm that I am not aligned with a minority of the school community. Again, this is perfectly normal, but it is this minority that absorbs the majority of my time, stripping me of the chance to sit back and enjoy what we are doing well and have achieved over the last three years. Preventing me from spending time with teachers and students witnessing their achievements and successes first hand. I decided it was time to hand over the baton to someone else and move on. Whoever takes over would be inheriting a dedicated and passionate team of educators.
At the beginning of the new term during our staff training days we invited a guest speaker, Dr Gustavo Estanislau, who spoke about mental health. Having already made the decision in my mind, the main takeaway for me was when he spoke about stress being a "state of alert". This resonated deeply and powerfully with me when I realised that I have been spending most of my working days for the last three years in a constant high state of alert, and this is simply unsustainable. The tears welling up in my eyes as he spoke helped me to realise this.
I am well aware that human nature makes it much easier to complain than to say thank you or well done, and if you are looking to be thanked for everything you do, do not go into education. However, after three years of working tirelessly to unite a community by attempting to elicit some degree of change to the campus culture, my emotional and physical energy was spent. It was a matter of hitting reset while reminding myself of my values and beliefs, and what I feel I deserve.
So what now? Fantastic question, but I do not yet know the answer. Finding a school where I feel aligned is becoming increasingly more like finding hen's teeth. Private education is mostly about 'bums on seats' and at whatever cost, so how can we build a community of truly like-minded members if the revenue and EBITDA are the priority? Where do values fit into this financially-driven equation? What about staff wellbeing and morale, and at what cost? This is the seemingly-impossible challenge.
I have been in education for almost 30 years so I must be doing something right. I am open for a change of career, my swan song as it were, but what would I do? I am hopeful that non-education employers appreciate the transferrable skills and experience from three decades in education, but it is time to reflect and research my options, and open my mind and my heart to what might come.
The announcement to the staff team followed by the parent community was made and I have ten months to be clearer about my next steps. In the meantime, I will practise what I always preach about being a principled risk taker and see what the future holds. I have jumped off the cliff, so now I need to wait for the parachute to open.
LinkedIn status update: #opentowork
Thank you, Simon. I truly appreciate your leadership, but even more, I value how honest and open you always are—and especially how you were in this message. That kind of candor is rare and powerful. I hope the future holds fantastic opportunities and continued success for you.