By Lynn Pearcey
Introduction
Jungles are home to an assortment of inhabitants: some we know well, some we just met, others we have yet to meet, and to be honest with the rapidly evolving ecosystems where new species spawn seemingly overnight, some we may never meet. Of the acquaintances we’ve made thus far, none are more awe-inspiring than the cats, and it begins with the lion: the king of the jungle. With a roar heard and felt for miles and a powerful build framed with a regal, flowing mane, if the eyeball test were the basis of the hire, a quick glance is all it takes to understand why he got the job.
Even though the title on their business card isn’t nearly as impressive as that of the lion the resume of the tiger is quite imposing.
While other cats, including lions, shun water and their prey often use it as an escape mechanism, tigers are strong swimmers, which means that when a tiger gets a target in its sight, there’s no escaping, not even in the water.
Leopards, now there’s a cat for you if there ever was one! Leopards are skillful climbers, patrolling, lurking, and commanding from above, ready to spring from the shadows, pouncing on their victim at the most opportune or inopportune time, depending on the perspective. All are formidable, even more so when you see them moving in a herd, a pride, or a pack, but no matter how they move, the medium they choose, or the volume moving, all pale when compared to the panther.
The panther exudes confidence and moves with a graceful, almost mystical gait. Unlike their cat counterparts, who often roam together, panthers chart their own course, traversing the jungle floor alone and in silence… attentive … intuitive … strategic.
Long-claws, razor-sharp teeth and immense leaping ability are hallmarks of their arsenal, but the panther’s gaze is by far the most potent weapon they wield. Once it locks eyes with a victim, no tree, ranking, body of water, or other cat, regardless of title, can stop it from reaching its goal. In that moment, the panther becomes the most dominant force the jungle has to offer.
The Big Cat
Bryan Byrd is a panther, a Duncanville Panther to be exact, and each day, he roams the sprawling campus of Duncanville High looking, not for victims of any sort; no, he’s looking for champions. Just so we’re clear, his hunt isn’t about athletics, but if it were, what better place to stalk prey than in these hallowed halls?
The halls of Duncanville High—the ones that lay claim to an embarrassment of athletic riches, including a powerhouse football program, basketball programs that rank among the finest in the land, and track teams that threaten to set or break national records each time they exit the starting blocks. “As the Executive Principal of Duncanville High School, I’m immensely proud of our athletic prowess, but my charge and the standard I hold myself to, extend far beyond any athletic forum,” says Byrd.
More Than a Nickname
The Big Apple. The Windy City. Sin City. The Mile High City … even the least traveled among us can correctly attach the city to the nicknames above. Those cities and many more bask in their monikers, using them more as slick marketing tools than accurate representations. But not Duncanville: they embrace and embody theirs.
“We’re known as the City of Champions, and I’ve always preached that champion is a broad term. You can be a champion in the classroom, on the field, in the office, or the community. Whatever the case may be, my goal as the leader of this campus is to infuse that mindset into our students and staff, equipping them to honor the principles this great city, we all know, and love has come to represent while preparing them for success wherever their journey takes them.”
Two Decades in the Making
His quest to lay a foundation for students isn’t without challenges. Byrd will be the first to admit that much has changed since he entered education in 2003, but he’ll quickly caveat that statement, firmly stating that so much has remained the same. “Regardless of the challenges we as leaders face, the ultimate goal of equipping the next generation for success never changes.”
Social media, communication disconnects, and the constant presence of cell phones make his work an arduous task, but it’s a task he relishes. “My dream has always been to be the Principal of Duncanville High School, and I consider it an honor to be in this esteemed position. This job is what I planned for, hoped, and dream for. That’s why even on my worst days, when everything is seemingly going off the rails, I can honestly say there’s no place I’d rather be.”
The Girl Dad
In the halls of Duncanville High, Byrd walks alone, but away from there, things are different. He walks with five beautiful women who represent his world: his wife Hazel and their four adorable daughters. That’s right, he’s a girl dad, a phrase the late Kobe Bryant coined and made popular. To be clear, a girl dad entails much more than being a man who has daughters. Being a girl dad means being present in every facet of their lives so when the time comes for them to leave you, the best parts of you go with them. “They’re my reason why and they keep me humble.”
The same teachings he preaches to his daughters at home, Byrd works tirelessly to infuse them into the students he’s charged with leading. “From the time the school day starts until it ends, parents are entrusting me with their children. My goal each day is to release them back to the care of their parents a little better than they were when they last saw them.”
Once a Panther, Always a Panther
Goodbye is a constant theme in education as students cycle through the various phases of academia. For Byrd, saying goodbye to a student is a bittersweet moment. “I’m proud to see them set out on their journey, but the parent in me hates to see them go. The parent in me wonders if I’ve given them everything they’ll need to succeed in the world they’re about to enter.”
While goodbyes are bittersweet, there’s nothing sweeter than a hello from a student returning to campus. “When they come back with stories of the rooms they’ve confidently entered, obstacles they’ve overcome, and we see how they’ve grown, there’s no greater feeling.”
Each morning he’s walking through the halls, looking. He’s looking to lock eyes with the young man contemplating a decision, hoping his stare leads him to make the right one. He’s trying to do the same with young girls, seeing his daughter in them, hoping that when their gaze ends, he’s left the best part of him with her. He does the same with his staff, looking deeply into their eyes and appreciating all their hard work, early mornings, late nights, and sacrifices that come with the life of an educator.
His hope is simple: that one day they’ll see the same thing he sees when he looks at them: a champion.