Paul A. Squarcia

School Administrator, Oct, 1995

A Catalytic Force Ignites a Crowded Boardroom

Think you've got it tough dealing with five, seven, or nine school board members?

Consider the circumstances of Paul Squarcia, superintendent of the Silver Lake Regional School District in southeastern Massachusetts. He must contend with four school committees plus a regional board--36 board members in all. It's not a position for the thin-skinned or frail of heart.

He's neither, according to the board chair in Plympton, one of the four school committees. "With that many people involved, it's very, very difficult. ... Paul handles it very well," says Patricia Bugbee.

Squarcia recently figured that he attends about 200 meetings a year and commits about 80 percent of his work hours either to prepare for a school committee or to follow up. "The dynamics are really something," he says.

Early on in his 18-year tenure as a regional superintendent, Squarcia put in place a model for dealing with so many board representatives. He set up each board chair as the primary contact "so if a non-chair member calls me I can say, 'Talk to the chair about it.'"

To get a capital bond issue approved in his district, Squarcia must get the OK from all four school committees, even though the proposed construction or renovation may directly affect only one. That means understanding the political ethos in each town as well as the educational needs. He has racked up enviable success, starting with a $12-million building program in the late '70s through this year's approval of a $275,000 school roof.

"I need to bring factual accuracy and credibility to the taxpayers," he says of public campaigning for bond issues. "I could deliver a message to one group and a slightly different message to another, but I say the same thing at some risk. ... I'm not a politician."

His board members describe him as a catalytic force, as someone who is passionately liked or disliked.

George Collins, a member of the regional school committee for 18 years, thinks Squarcia's resilience as a superintendent dates to his no-frills upbringing in a Pennsylvania coal-mining town and his days as a tough-nosed quarterback at Boston University, where he attended on a sports scholarship.

He describes Squarcia as a square shooter with a decided game-playing strategy when working with board members. "The candid impression," says Collins, "is that he only tells them what he wants them to know--strictly a need-to-know basis."

Bugbee, an elected committee member for six years, says the superintendent's most admirable quality is his sense of accountability. "He's never passed the buck when he could have," she says. "Ultimately he says everything is his responsibility. He always takes the blame but doesn't always take the credit and that probably colors the way the public sees him."

Though he has his share of detractors at home, Squarcia commands considerable respect among his peers statewide, having served as president of the Massachusetts Association of School Administrators and a year later earning state superintendent of the year honors.

He also is in regular demand as a consultant and external evaluator. He's worked with educators in communities across New England and chaired a half dozen accreditation teams for the New England Association of Schools and Colleges. He has helped assess the impact of U.S. funds on educational programs in six European nations, most recently last October in Turin, Italy.

"As I share with these groups, I have a significant contribution to make in bringing the ideal world to the real world--how do we make it work here?" he says.

Squarcia, 55, concedes he is growing less tolerant of 14 to 16-hour days. "The older I get, t e more Geritol I need."

He is reminded of a comment made to him by a school secretary just after he was named an assistant high school principal at the tender age of 23. "She told me I'd reach the age of disillusionment at 35 when others would reach it at 45."

Squarcia insists he has not yet reached that point.