One of the unique aspects of working in public education is that we experience two natural points of renewal each year. January 1 marks the beginning of the calendar year, while August or September signals the start of a new school year and the return of our students. Both offer valuable opportunities to reflect, refocus, and reset our goals and strategies.
As we prepare to launch the 2025鈥�26 school year, it is essential that we celebrate our successes while proactively planning for the challenges ahead鈥攑articularly the wave of criticism that continues to confront public education.
Just as we carry an umbrella when rain is in the forecast, having a thoughtful plan to respond to detractors can help shield us from being overwhelmed with negativity.
In this biweekly column, principals and other authorities on school leadership鈥攊ncluding researchers, education professors, district administrators, and assistant principals鈥攐ffer timely and timeless advice for their peers.
The following is a story that I hope encourages school leaders to turn doubt into determination and find strength in every setback. When doubt surrounds us, we must rise above it.
鈥淵ou can鈥檛 do it.鈥� Those four words followed me like a shadow throughout my life. It didn鈥檛 just happen once or twice; it was a barrier I had to keep facing each time I thought of transitioning to a new role in leadership. Someone was always there to remind me of my limits.
When I applied to graduate school, a trusted person told me I wasn鈥檛 cut out for it. 鈥淭here鈥檚 too much reading and writing. It鈥檚 not for you.鈥� I remember walking away from that conversation with a mixture of doubt and determination boiling inside me. Maybe she was right. Maybe I wasn鈥檛 ready.
I鈥檓 thankful to my father who encouraged me to pursue my dreams and never be limited by criticism. I appreciate that vote of confidence, Dad!
After graduating and becoming a licensed school psychologist, I dreamt of transitioning to the classroom and becoming a special education teacher. A colleague discouraged me, stating that I wouldn鈥檛 be able to handle the demands of a classroom of students. My dad鈥檚 encouragement immediately came to mind, again. Instead of retreating, I rooted myself deeper into the work鈥攍earning and growing from colleagues already in the classroom as I was hired as a high school special education teacher.
I heard a similar song of doubt when I set my sights on becoming an assistant principal and later on leading a school of my own. The more I dreamed, the naysayers seemed to grow. I learned not to argue; instead, I just got to work.
After eight of the best years of my career as a middle school principal, and as my daughter was getting ready to graduate from high school, I realized I was ready to take a chance on myself yet again: I wanted to relocate to northern Virginia to be closer to my family.
As I prepared for this move, I was cautioned, 鈥淵ou鈥檒l be a small fish in a big pond.鈥� But by then, I had learned something powerful: The people who try to limit you are often projecting the limits they鈥檝e placed on themselves.
So, I made the move. And just like every time before, I didn鈥檛 sink鈥擨 swam. Every 鈥渘o鈥� became a spark. Every 鈥測ou can鈥檛鈥� became a challenge. I wasn鈥檛 trying to prove them wrong鈥擨 wanted to prove myself right. I learned to bet on myself, with courage and calculated risk. I embraced new strategies, explored new ways of connecting with students and staff, and made bold moves for the sake of equity, belonging, and academic excellence.
Along the way, I discovered the quiet power of perseverance. I wasn鈥檛 the most polished, the most connected, or the most obvious choice. But I was the one who refused to quit.
To every educator reading this鈥攅specially those leading schools across the country鈥擨 know how loud the doubt can be. I know the sting of criticism, the weight of expectations, and the ache of isolation that can come when you are trying to do something different.
Right now, there are people doubting the effectiveness of public education. Some are questioning our ability to return the academic standards that were reached prior to the pandemic. They are doubting our ability to hire and retain high-quality 糖心动漫vlog in challenging working conditions.
But I say this to my fellow school leaders: You are not powerless. You are not alone. And you are absolutely capable. The work we do matters more than ever. We are the architects of tomorrow鈥檚 leaders.
Our work is not just defined by test scores but the lifelong memories we build. If you asked a student if they had a good year last year, regardless of how they characterize it, I bet that the final verdict has little to do with test scores and more to do with the emotions they felt at school. They remember the connections they did or didn鈥檛 make and the events they did or did not attend.
That鈥檚 why our role as school leaders is more important than ever. As many of our students are fighting record-high levels of depression and anxiety, we have the privilege and opportunity to plan school calendars that will bring students to June 2026 feeling, 鈥淲ow! That was the best school year ever!鈥� That鈥檚 my hope for my students, and it鈥檚 the hope I have for each of yours.
Doubt will surely come, and sometimes, it will surround us like a dark cloud, but we must always rise above it.
In a field that many enjoy criticizing, let鈥檚 lead with purpose and passion. Let鈥檚 silence the cynics with the buffet of student success. Let鈥檚 be bold enough to take risks, reflective enough to grow from them, and resilient enough to get back up when we fall.
Bet on yourself. Again and again. Because the students are watching. The staff are watching. And most importantly, the version of you who considered giving up鈥攖hat person is watching, too.
Don鈥檛 let them down. And when someone says, 鈥淵ou can鈥檛 do it,鈥� just smile, roll up your sleeves, and show them how it鈥檚 done.
Together, we will turn the tide. Together, we will lead. Together, we will overcome.
