The Monroe Doctrine

On a spring morning in 1991, Lorraine Monroe paid her first visit to Intermediate School 10, on 149th Street in Harlem. The place hardly inspired greatness. There was neither a lobby nor a playground, and subway trains rumbled directly underneath. Inside, the facility was scarred by broken ceiling tiles, water stains, and torn stage curtains.

Monroe's tour came to an end at the dingy principal's office -- her new place of business. "How could things have gotten this bad?" she thought. is 10 (also known as Frederick Douglass School) was well known for its violence, its poor attendance, and its persistently low level of academic achievement. Her charge: to destroy is 10. In its place, she was to create a special high school, one that would defy people's diminished expectations of what public education could accomplish in the inner city. This school would actually educate its students. It would graduate them, it would send them off to college, it would prepare them for careers.

Monroe had grown up on Harlem streets and had gone to city schools. Her mother worked in garment sweatshops; her father worked in a metal refinery. They taught her to walk fast, to enjoy people, to dance, to laugh -- and never to doubt that she could do whatever she applied herself to. During high school, she was elected class president, voted "girl most likely to succeed," and admitted to Hunter College.

After college, Monroe proved her mettle -- first as an English teacher, then as principal of William Howard Taft High School, a once-troubled institution in the Bronx. She was smart and tough, with an instinctive aptitude for motivating people. She inspired kids to imagine greater possibilities for themselves. She got teachers to break out of the ruts that were dug for them by entrenched bureaucracies; she got them to see meaning and mission in their work.

Her assignment at is 10 (which she renamed the Frederick Douglass Academy) proved to be a success as well. She restored order and discipline, largely by promulgating "Twelve Non-Negotiable Rules and Regulations" -- a code rooted in respect for oneself, for one's associates, and for property. Its precepts were simple: Attend school daily, and arrive on time. Be prepared to work every day. Do homework nightly. Keep your desk area clean. Do not fight.

Kids and teachers alike were now free to focus on learning. And learn they did: Test scores at the Frederick Douglass Academy quickly shot up, placing the academy among the top of all New York City schools. When the academy's first class graduated, in 1996, 96% of the students went on to college.

Monroe left Frederick Douglass in 1997 to found the School Leadership Academy at the Center for Educational Innovation. Today, she is executive director of that academy -- a New York - based, business-sponsored nonprofit group that aims to foster creative educational leadership. Her first book, "Nothing's Impossible: Leadership Lessons from Inside and Outside the Classroom" (PublicAffairs, 1997), distills the essence of what she has learned during more than 30 years as a teacher, principal, and consultant. A companion volume, tentatively titled 100 Things That Great Bosses Do, is due next year.

When Fast Company caught up with her, she was working on item number 72 on that list of 100.

Feed the Hunger

Businesspeople always ask me, What makes a good leader? Part of the answer is this: The leader is the drum major, the person who keeps a vision in front of people and reminds them of what it is that they're about. People are hungry for leadership. They'll gravitate toward leaders who have a vision. When people see that you love your work, they want to catch your energy.

People want to be about good things. There are a lot of people in schools who want to have the best in themselves called out. They want to believe that the work they do has some meaning, some purpose beyond simply making a salary. So the first function of a leader is to figure out, "Who are these guys who have gravitated to this work? How are they inspired? What are the right words to say to them?"

Leaders are lonely, because they must think and dream about their work -- all day, every day, day after day. Then they must make what they think and dream about understandable to people who haven't thought and dreamed as deeply, or as far into the future, as they have. They must believe in the dream and in the need to pursue it, and they must do the hard work of never doubting its importance. Doubts will arise -- but the leader's job is to master those doubts and to press on.

Leaders must convert their organizations from places with pockets of individual creativity into places of community. Think about a community: What are its ordinances? What does it look like? What is considered beautiful? A leader makes sure that the people who make up a community are nurtured and that their rights are addressed. A leader also takes every opportunity to convey new ideas: In meetings, memos, and one-on-one conversations, the leader hammers home the need for change.