How We Find Our Why Again

There are times in leadership when even meaningful work begins to feel heavy. The long hours, constant decisions, and emotional weight can make it hard to remember why we started in the first place. I have lived those moments. The days when purpose fades beneath the pace. But even in those times, our why is never lost. It is only waiting to be remembered…

That is why I hold on to reminders that bring me back to center. Recently, I watched Clint Pulver’s story, Be a Mr. Jensen. In it, a teacher notices a restless student and chooses to see possibility instead of frustration. He hands the student a pair of drumsticks and says, “I think you are a drummer.” That moment changes everything. It is simple and human, but it captures what purpose looks like in action.

Working at an arts-focused high school, I see this power every day. My daughter once majored in Figure Skating there. My son focused on Production Arts. Their dedication to their craft shaped how they learned, how they worked, and how they faced challenges. The arts became their foundation for resilience, focus, and joy. As a principal, I see that same transformation in my students daily. Art connects effort to meaning. It turns practice into purpose.

Leadership is no different. We lose our way when we forget that our influence lives in the small moments of connection. The meeting where someone feels heard. The hallway conversation that reminds a teacher that their work matters. The student who finally feels seen. These are our versions of handing someone a pair of drumsticks.

Finding the why again is not about a grand revelation. It is about slowing down long enough to notice the difference we already make. It is choosing to see potential where it is easy to see problems. It is remembering that leadership is not about titles or results. It is about people, purpose, and presence.

If you are feeling stretched or uncertain, take a moment to think about who handed you your drumsticks…the person who believed in you, who saw something you could not yet see in yourself. Then look around and pass that same belief forward. That is how we find our why again.

Clint Pulver captures this so well in his book I Love It Here: How Great Leaders Create Organizations Their People Never Want to Leave. He reminds us that great leadership is about creating spaces where people feel valued and seen. When leaders focus on connection and meaning, loyalty and trust naturally follow.

If you need a reminder of why this matters, take a few minutes to watch Be a Mr. Jensen. It is a simple story with a lasting message. Sometimes all it takes to find our why again is to remember the power we hold when we choose to see the best in others!

Celebrating Small Wins on the Big Journey

This week I received the news that I passed my comprehensive exam for my doctoral work at Lehigh University. For anyone who has been through this process, you know how significant this moment is. It is one of those milestones that feels like a mountain standing in front of you, and the only way to get through it is one step at a time.

The journey has not been easy. Balancing leadership at school with the demands of doctoral work often felt impossible. There were days when I questioned if I could keep going. There were nights of rewriting, rereading, and revising until my eyes blurred. And there were plenty of moments when the weight of it all pressed down heavy.

Yet what I have learned in both leadership and doctoral work is that resilience is not about never struggling. Resilience is about taking the next step even when it feels hard. It is about pausing when you need to, but not stopping altogether. It is about reminding yourself that progress comes in pieces, not all at once.

Celebrating small wins along the way is part of what makes the big journey possible. The paper finished. The chapter read. The exam submitted. Each step matters. Too often we wait until the final goal is reached to celebrate, but joy comes when we honor the progress along the way.

Passing my comprehensive exam is a moment of joy and relief, but more than that, it is proof that perseverance pays off. The path is still long, but each milestone is worth noticing.

This lesson matters in schools too. Principals, teachers, and students are often climbing their own mountains. The work can feel endless and overwhelming, but progress comes in the small steps. When leaders celebrate those steps — a class that found its rhythm, a student who grew in confidence, a teacher who tried something new — the whole community is reminded that the journey is worth it.

For anyone else facing a challenge that feels too big, my reminder is simple: take the next step. Celebrate the small wins. Keep moving forward. The reward is not just the achievement at the end, but the strength you build on the way there.

When the Principal is Well, Everyone Wins!

I have learned that how I show up as a leader directly affects the climate of my school. When I am rested and grounded, the energy flows outward to my staff and students. When I am exhausted, stressed, or distracted, it ripples too. This truth is not just about my own experience. It is also clear in research across the world.

Rita McHugh’s landmark study of 488 Irish primary principals developed the Framework of Occupational Well-Being to measure burnout, job satisfaction, mindfulness, motivation, and perception of fairness. The findings are sobering. Current figures show that there has been an increase in Irish principals’ use of prescription medications from 18% in 2015 to 40% in 2022, with 39% of principals reporting diagnoses of stress-related medical conditions. Principals also reported high levels of unpaid overtime, frustration with autonomy, and low levels of mindfulness. These factors erode their health and their capacity to lead.

This mirrors what many of us see in our own schools. Leadership roles in education have grown increasingly complex and emotionally demanding. Principals carry the responsibility for student learning, staff performance, compliance, safety, and community trust, often with limited support or preparation. As McHugh’s research shows, the impact of this workload is not only professional but deeply personal, affecting health, families, and long-term sustainability in the role.

Yet her work also offers hope. The six components of occupational well-being that she identified provide a framework for healthier leadership: managing burnout, meeting basic psychological needs such as autonomy and competence, sustaining motivation, practicing mindfulness, fostering job satisfaction, and building fairness into the system. These are not luxuries. They are essential if leaders are to thrive and if schools are to flourish.

I see this truth every day. When I protect time for mindfulness, when I share responsibility rather than doing it all myself, when I create systems that respect teachers’ autonomy, the energy in the building shifts. Teachers are calmer, students are more engaged, and families feel the difference.

The good news is that change is possible. McHugh’s findings show that motivation, autonomy, and mindfulness can all protect against burnout. For me, this reinforces that principals cannot treat their well-being as optional. It is at the core of effective leadership. When principals are supported and when they choose to care for themselves, the benefits ripple outward. Teachers feel it in their classrooms, students feel it in their learning, and families feel it in the overall climate of the school.

When the principal is well, everyone wins!

What Principals Don’t Say Out Loud

There are parts of leadership that rarely make it into conversations. We often keep them tucked away, thinking no one wants to hear about the nights we cannot sleep because a student’s safety plan is looping through our minds, or the mornings when the weight of unfinished tasks feels heavier than the school doors themselves. We smile in the hallways, move quickly between meetings, and try to project calm even when inside we are stretched thin.

What we do not say out loud is that the role can be lonely. It is lonely not because we are surrounded by fewer people but because we feel we must carry their worries alongside our own. A teacher’s frustration, a parent’s anger, a student’s heartbreak, a board’s expectation—these become part of our inner landscape. We often believe that strength means holding it all without showing strain.

The truth is that silence does not make us stronger. Hiding our own exhaustion or doubt creates walls instead of bridges. When we acknowledge that the role is demanding, when we admit that we are human, we actually open the door to healthier leadership. Teachers and students do not need a principal who appears perfect. They need one who models what it looks like to care for self while still showing up for others.

Why this matters is simple. Unspoken stress has a cost. It wears down our bodies with headaches, fatigue, and illness. It weighs on our hearts and leaves us feeling disconnected from the very work that once filled us with purpose. When leaders crumble silently, schools suffer quietly alongside them. But when leaders speak honestly, even in small ways, they create space for teachers to share their challenges too. That honesty ripples into classrooms where students learn that it is acceptable to ask for help.

One of the most powerful shifts I have experienced as a principal has come from letting down the guard just enough to say, “Today was hard.” That sentence changes the air in a room. It invites others to respond with their own truth. It creates community instead of performance.

So what principals do not often say out loud needs to be said. Not for sympathy, not for excuses, but for connection. When we share the quiet parts of leadership, we remind ourselves and others that the work is not about perfection. It is about persistence, compassion, and resilience.

The next time you feel yourself tempted to hold it all in, pause and consider that your voice may be the one that helps another leader exhale. Speaking the unspoken can be the first step toward sustaining yourself in the role and ensuring that your school thrives alongside you.

5 Signs You’re More Burnt Out Than You Realize and What To Do About It

I know what it feels like to push through the day even when I am running on fumes. In schools, there is always one more meeting, one more parent call, or one more student who needs support. I have caught myself saying “I’ll rest later” or “I’ll get through this week first,” only to find that later never comes. Burnout does not arrive in one dramatic moment. It builds little by little until the exhaustion feels normal.

Here are five signals that you may be more burnt out than you think, with ways to begin shifting out of it.

1. You wake up tired even after a full night of sleep

When you are giving your all to students and staff each day, sleep should feel restorative. If you still wake up drained, your body is telling you it has not truly recovered. Protecting rest is essential. Short breaks during the day, even a quiet moment between classes or before the next meeting, can begin to help your system reset.

2. Simple tasks feel heavier than they should

A quick email to a parent or finishing a progress note feels overwhelming. You put it off because your mind cannot find the space to begin. Start with the smallest action, like opening the gradebook or drafting a greeting. In a school environment full of constant demands, small steps forward make the workload more manageable.

3. You feel distant from the parts of your work you used to love

The joy of teaching, leading a team meeting, or watching a student succeed feels less powerful than it used to. That loss of connection is a major sign of burnout. Reclaiming even five minutes for something that reminds you why you chose education, such as mentoring a student or stepping into a classroom, can help bring back a sense of purpose. Be sure to find joy each day. One of my favorite resources is The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World by the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Their reflections remind us that joy is not about perfect circumstances, but about perspective and presence, a lesson that resonates deeply in the work we do in schools.

4. Your patience feels shorter than it used to

The energy it takes to redirect a student, answer a colleague’s question, or sit through another meeting feels harder to summon. You notice yourself becoming more easily frustrated in situations where you once had more calm. This does not mean you care any less. It means your system is running low. Giving yourself space to pause and center before responding can change the tone of an interaction and ease the weight you are carrying.

5. You are living in survival mode

Each day feels like a blur of bells, responsibilities, and deadlines. You keep moving but not forward. Creativity, problem-solving, and joy are replaced by simply getting through. Asking yourself what thriving would look like in your role, even in a small way, can create a new direction. It might be leaving on time once a week, carving out a visit to a classroom that inspires you, or protecting time for a meaningful project.

Why this matters for women leaders in education

On Shattering the Glass Ceiling I write often about how the well-being of leaders ripples outward. When principals, teachers, and school leaders are cared for and supported, entire school communities thrive. Burnout is not a weakness. It is a signal that the pace and structure around you are unsustainable. Recognizing the signs is the first step toward creating change that allows both leaders and students to flourish.

I also believe that practices like mindfulness help us find space to breathe when the day feels overwhelming. One of my favorites is a body scan meditation. It reminds me to pay attention to my body in a way I normally only do when something is wrong. The grounding that comes from noticing my breath and the simple sensations of stillness is powerful. This body scan meditation has been especially meaningful to me, and I have even started using similar two or three-minute techniques with my administrative team at the beginning of our weekly meetings. These small shifts matter. They are not just about individual well-being, but about shaping a healthier, more sustainable culture for everyone in education.

The Weight of Many Roles

This Saturday morning I am sitting with the reality of what it means to be a mom, a wife, a principal, and a doctoral student all at once. Each of these roles matters deeply to me, but balancing them is exhausting. My family deserves my presence, my students and staff deserve my best leadership, my partner deserves my time and attention, and my doctoral work deserves my full focus. Most days it feels like there is not enough of me to go around.

There are assignments waiting for me, emails that need attention, children who want me to be with them fully, and a partner who deserves more than the leftover pieces of my energy. The truth is that I cannot give one hundred percent to everything at the same time. That leaves me wrestling with guilt. Am I falling short at home when I pour into my school? Am I neglecting my studies when I choose to be with my kids? Am I too distracted to show up fully as a wife when the work never seems to end? The questions linger even when I know I am doing all that I can.

What grounds me in moments like this is the reminder that these roles are not in competition, even when they feel like they are. Being a mom shapes the way I lead with empathy. Being a wife reminds me to keep relationships at the center of my life. Being a principal informs the research questions I am pursuing in my doctoral work. And being a student keeps me humble, always learning and growing in ways that serve both my family and my school community. The threads are woven together, even if some days the weave looks messy.

It is hard to admit that I cannot do it all. But perhaps the strength is not in doing everything perfectly but in showing up honestly and giving what I can to the people and work that I love. Today that means writing this reflection, spending some time with my children, making space for my partner, and later carving out quiet time to tackle the next assignment.

If you are also carrying the weight of many roles, know that you are not alone. It is heavy work, but it is meaningful work. And maybe that reminder is enough to keep us moving forward one day at a time.

Why Switch: How to Change Things When Change Is Hard Feels Like a Must-Read for School Leaders

I don’t say this lightly: Switch: How to Change Things When Change Is Hard is one of the most powerful books I have read about change—and not the superficial kind, but the kind that actually lasts in the day-to-day life of a school.

From the very first pages, I felt the authors were speaking directly to the challenges I face as a principal. The book explores the conflict between logic and emotion, how to keep moving forward when the path feels unclear, and how to help people embrace new directions without forcing them. The framework of the Rider, the Elephant, and the Path gave me fresh ways to think about change in my school—not as something to push through, but as a process to guide with care.

What Stands Out

• What looks like resistance is often lack of clarity. This has changed how I approach staff and teams who seem stuck. Motivation is not always the issue—sometimes the direction simply needs to be clearer.

• Finding “bright spots” prevents overwhelm. Looking for what is already working, even in small ways, gives a solid place to begin. Those wins can be replicated and scaled.

• Environment matters. Change does not depend only on willpower. It depends on shaping conditions that make the right path easier to follow. This has resonated with me deeply, because principals are often expected to “fix people” when in reality the structures need fixing.

• Identity drives behavior. The book shows that when people shift how they see themselves—“I am a leader who values balance,” “I am a teacher who is student-centered”—that identity change fuels lasting action.

How I Am Using It

• I am learning to script critical moves with more clarity when rolling out initiatives.

• I am making a habit of celebrating bright spots to remind myself and my staff of what is already working.

• Before expecting change, I ask: Is the path clear? Have I created the right environment?

• I have started sharing the language of Switch: How to Change Things When Change Is Hard with leadership teams so we can use it together.

A Book for Fellow Educators

If you lead a school, manage a team, or are working to shape culture, Switch: How to Change Things When Change Is Hard is a book you should read. It is not just theory—it is a guide for how to move people forward in real, complicated situations. For me, it has been both grounding and inspiring, and I believe it can do the same for others in leadership.

👉 See Switch: How to Change Things When Change Is Hard on Amazon

Redefining Success for Women in School Leadership

For decades, women have been breaking barriers in education leadership, yet the expectations placed on us often feel heavier than the role itself. A “successful” woman principal is too often defined as someone who does it all—leading the school, being constantly available, managing staff and student needs, and still carrying the weight of family responsibilities at home. This version of success is unrealistic, and it comes at a cost.

Women in leadership frequently experience burnout at higher rates because the bar is set impossibly high. We are expected to be both firm and approachable, decisive and nurturing, tireless at work and present at home. These conflicting demands create pressure that quietly pushes women out of leadership roles, reinforcing the very glass ceiling we are trying to shatter.

What if we redefined success for women principals? Success shouldn’t mean sacrificing health, relationships, or personal identity to meet someone else’s standard. Instead, it should mean leading with balance, building systems of support, and sustaining ourselves so we can continue to make an impact.

True leadership for women in education lies not in doing it all, but in modeling what it looks like to set boundaries, care for ourselves, and show that well-being and strength can exist together. By changing how we define success, we open the door for more women to step into leadership and stay there—not just for a few years, but for the long term.

Why Principal Retention Matters Now More Than Ever

Being a principal today is both a privilege and a challenge. On one hand, we have the opportunity to shape a school’s culture, inspire teachers, and support students in meaningful ways. On the other hand, the pressures can feel endless—long hours, high-stakes accountability, staffing shortages, and the constant juggling of responsibilities that often extend far beyond the job description.

When principals burn out or leave, the ripple effect is enormous. Teachers lose stability. Students lose a leader who may have been advocating for them. Families see turnover and begin to question the school’s direction. Research shows that leadership is second only to teaching when it comes to influencing student outcomes. If that’s true, then principal retention isn’t just an HR problem—it’s a student achievement issue.

As someone who has lived this role, I know how quickly the weight of expectations can pile up. Retaining principals requires more than telling us to “take care of ourselves.” It means building systems of support, protecting time for rest and family, and recognizing that school leaders are human beings with limits. If we want to strengthen schools, we need to start by taking care of the leaders who hold them together.

Talking Honestly: Breaking the Silence about Principal Well-Being

In education, we talk a lot about student well-being and teacher well-being. But principal well-being is often left out of the conversation. There’s an unspoken expectation that school leaders should “just handle it,” no matter how overwhelming the demands.

The problem with that silence is that it isolates principals. When leaders feel they can’t admit stress, they internalize it until it becomes unmanageable. I believe we need to normalize conversations about principal well-being in the same way we are starting to normalize them for students and teachers.

Talking about stress and burnout doesn’t make a principal weak. It makes them real. And when leaders model vulnerability and self-care, it gives permission for their staff to do the same. That creates a healthier culture for the whole school.

Shattering the glass ceiling in education leadership isn’t just about advancing careers—it’s also about breaking through the stigma of silence around mental health and well-being. If we want to keep great principals, we need to give them the space to speak up, seek help, and feel supported without judgment.

The Hidden Cost of Principal Burnout

Most people don’t see the toll that school leadership takes on physical and mental health. Principals are expected to be visible, responsive, and strong—yet many of us are quietly exhausted. The hidden cost is that burnout not only drives leaders out of the profession but also impacts our relationships, our decision-making, and even our health.

Think about what burnout looks like: irritability, difficulty sleeping, constant stress, and sometimes even health scares that could have been prevented. These are not just personal struggles; they affect entire school communities. A burned-out leader has less energy to support teachers, less patience for student needs, and less capacity to innovate.

We don’t talk enough about what it feels like to hit that breaking point. The truth is that many principals leave not because they don’t care but because they cared so much, for so long, without enough support, that it wore them down. Recognizing burnout as a systemic problem—not an individual weakness—is the first step. Schools and districts have a responsibility to build healthier conditions for leadership.

Support Systems Principals Can’t Lead Without

When we talk about principal retention, the conversation often circles back to personal resilience. How can leaders manage stress better? How can they balance their time? Those are important questions, but they miss a larger truth: no amount of resilience can make up for the absence of real support systems.

Principals need more than motivational words—they need structural backing. That means districts and boards must ensure workloads are reasonable, responsibilities are clearly defined, and leaders are not constantly filling the gaps left by eliminated positions or shrinking budgets. It means investing in coaching and mentorship, so principals aren’t left to navigate the role in isolation. And it means creating policies that respect boundaries, like protected time for family and personal well-being.

Without these systems, even the most dedicated leaders will eventually burn out. Retention is not about asking principals to give more—it’s about schools and districts giving them what they need to succeed.

Strong support systems don’t just keep principals in their roles. They create healthier schools, more stable staff, and better outcomes for students. If we truly value education, we must start by valuing and supporting the people who lead it.

The Double Burden: Why Women Principals Carry More Than the Job

When women step into school leadership, we bring with us not only our professional responsibilities but also the weight of expectations that extend beyond the role. Many of us are balancing the daily demands of leading a school with the invisible labor of managing households, raising children, or caring for family members. This double burden is real, and it shapes the way we experience leadership.

For women principals, the workday doesn’t always end when the school doors close. The evening may bring homework help, dinner preparation, or the emotional work of caring for others. These responsibilities, layered on top of the long hours already expected in leadership, can quickly lead to exhaustion and feelings of being stretched too thin.

The danger is that this cycle can push talented women out of leadership roles altogether. It’s not because we lack the skills or the passion—it’s because the system isn’t designed to support leaders who carry both professional and personal responsibilities. Without intentional structures of support, the double burden becomes unsustainable.

Acknowledging this reality is the first step. Schools and districts must recognize that the success of women leaders depends on creating flexible, humane conditions that allow us to thrive in all parts of our lives. We should not have to choose between being effective principals and present family members. With the right supports, we can be both.

Breaking the glass ceiling means more than earning the title—it means dismantling the barriers that make it so difficult for women to stay and flourish in leadership.