So You Want To Be an Educational Consultant?

School Administrator, Feb, 1998 by Joel Radin

A former superintendent no longer waits for the phone to ring in his new role as speaker and workshop leader

As a school superintendent, you probably have a big ego, an abundance of energy and boundless enthusiasm. You create, direct, motivate and cause things to happen. You face challenges from the news media and find the spotlight on you at all times. People mostly respect your position and authority. You thrive in the limelight.

Yet while the public thinks you have vast power over the lives and futures of students and staff members, only you fully appreciate that perception is not reality. No one--save your spouse and your dog--understands the constant stress and strains of the superintendency.

Maybe this idea has crossed your mind: I can do something else in my professional life.

The longer you stay in the superintendency, the more you think about that alternative career. Then one day it happens. You retire or resign. Or perhaps a school board forces you out.

If you have played your cards right and planned properly, you could find a new career that is exciting, taps into your special talents and allows you to remain involved with education and children. And what is that career? Educational consulting.

An Idealized View

Yes, you could have your cake and eat it too. After all, after years of running a school district, don't you have the answers to most of the questions? Haven't you done it all while working in the trenches? Couldn't you share your successful experiences with others and make things happen positively for school-age children? What about all that money to be made for doing things that are second nature to you? And, best of all, if things go wrong, can't a consultant just walk away from the chaos and avoid being held responsible?

Wrong! That may be someone's fantasy view of educational consulting, but it isn't the real world. Nothing comes so easily.

In my case, I started planning to become a keynote speaker and consultant on educational issues several years prior to my retirement from the superintendency. I knew I would leave my chosen profession as soon as I turned 55. So why did I leave the profession I loved when I still had much to contribute to my district and its students, when I had four years left on an evergreen contract and was in the driver's seat?

The reasons for leaving were as complex as the superintendency itself. I had seen two of my respected colleagues in western New York state, Gary Barr and Howard Welker, die on the job just after reaching their 60s from the unyielding pressures brought on largely but not exclusively by their boards of education. When my school board turned during an election from a pro-education, supportive group of citizens who held children as their primary concern to a majority of mean-spirited folks who knew better than anybody else how to run things, I became uneasy.

When I realized this new board intended to dismantle everything accomplished by the previous board, I knew it was just a matter of time before I had to leave. If I didn't, I figured I might become the third active superintendent in the region to die in the position.

I considered leaving New York state to become a superintendent in another area. After all, that would make good financial sense for my family. I could collect my pension from New York and a full-time salary from another district. That was my plan until one day, in discussing my future with colleagues at a leadership training session run by AASA, another superintendent said pointedly: "If you think the superintendency will kill you in New York, what makes you think it won't kill you in another state?" I knew he was right. So I needed to revise my plans.

A Thorough Self-Assessment

Of course one option would be to do nothing. Just retire and do things that I never had time to do previously. Wouldn't it be wonderful to read all the classics? I always wanted to learn how to golf but never made the time. Wouldn't it be great to start now while still reasonably fit? How about traveling? Didn't I always want to visit all the great places in the United States and around the world that I'd read about in books and always dreamed of seeing?

I took stock of my strengths and weaknesses, my likes and dislikes. The conclusion was obvious: I could not just sit still at age 55. Even though my battery was low and needed recharging, I knew I couldn't just retire. I was too young and vibrant. My ego still needed massaging. I wanted to be productive in the field of education. Plus I enjoyed the limelight. So what next?

I consulted friends and recent retirees from the field and did lots of library reading on career changing. I made lists and answered surveys. What did I like to do best and what did I dislike the most? What was I good at doing? What activities gave me the greatest satisfaction? What knowledge, skills and experiences did I have that would be of value to others?

All this homework helped me realize what I wanted to do. I loved to speak before groups. I enjoyed running training sessions. My ego was massaged when people told me how good I was, how much they learned in my sessions and how inspired they were to try new things after listening to me.