I spend a lot of time on the trails. I enjoy running, but perhaps even more importantly, trail time gives me space for reflection. At the end of a frenetic day, I rush home, pull on my well-worn Asics, gather my 100-pound dog, and head for a nearby trail. On weekends, I seek out longer routes that wind more deeply into the woods, paths that twist and meander past streams and waterfalls, paths that are lush with undergrowth, and paths that often leave me with choices at a fork in the road.
Out there, cell service is often non-existent. Sometimes I use apps like TrailForks, but more often than not, I simply set off. While I trust that I will eventually find my way back, I do have my brother following me on Find My Phone. When I am truly lost, I check in, and he helps guide me back on course. But before I ever make that call (and endure the teasing that comes with it), I stop, check my perspective, look for familiar markers, notice how my dog is responding to the environment, and pay closer attention to the landscape.
On those dark and early morning runs, what I really need is a compass. A compass doesn’t hand me a map, “GPS me” out of the forest, or tell me which road to take. Instead, it orients me. The magnetic needle, drawn by the pull of the Earth, points north and holds steady no matter where I stand. With that anchor, I can find my bearings and move forward with confidence, even when the path ahead remains uncertain.
Leadership, especially in those first years, feels much the same as navigating an unfamiliar trail system. It is less about racing forward, and more about learning to read the landscape of school and community. Like the compass needle, what grounds us are the constants: our internal locus of control, our perspective, our voice, and our ability to listen, respect, and understand context. These are factors that make up our personal true north.
During my visits to districts and communities across the province this past year, I have met many new administrators stepping into leadership roles. We recognize that the first years of formal leadership require support, guidance, care, and connection with like-minded colleagues. That is why the BCPVPA’s pilot program, the Compass Leadership Academy, will become a vital marker on the trail.
Compass is a 2025-2027 pilot program that is a complement to local district leadership development frameworks, and that will help to support early career Principals and Vice-Principals in strengthening their skills and knowledge, understanding the complexities of their roles, and building their professional networks. The BCPVPA Board of Directors is committed to serving all of our members, and we have come to recognize the specialized supports that our newest members need as educators who have transitioned to new leadership roles. On Saturday, October 18, and Sunday, October 19, 235 registrants from all over BC will travel to Vancouver to join more than 35 BCPVPA members, staff, and sector friends who will act as facilitators for the first step in this program that recognizes the needs of both urban and rural educational leaders. Participants in the program will attend virtual sessions with practical learning to both support their practice and foster an understanding of the role, and additional coaching and mentorship supports will be available to members who are new leaders in rural and remote areas.
For new leaders in British Columbia, Compass is more than a two-year pilot program. It is a reminder that orientation matters: that before we can lead others, we must pause, listen, check our bearings, and understand the terrain that surrounds us.
Like the compass you hold in your hand when determining direction, the BCPVPA’s Compass program may not provide every answer. But it will remind new leaders to hold steady, listen deeply, and find their way with the support of others. As we reflect on our own leadership journeys, we can see the difference a program like Compass may have made.