Learner. Human. Joyologist.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned over twenty years of experience in our profession is that not everyone does things the way I would do them but just because it’s different than how I would do it, doesn’t make it wrong. There are certainly exceptions. And certainly people whose actions we struggle to understand.
Titles organize us, but they also get in the way of real human connection. It’s not your fault that people bring their own negative perceptions or trauma to your title. But how you respond is your responsibility, always.
Hope is the belief that tomorrow can be better than today, and we are the ones who can make it so. Are we creating environments that inspire hope in our young people, our educators, and our communities?
Every moment in schools- whether we intend or not- is spent sending messages of safety and belonging or lack thereof. The more consistently we model the good, the better schools and classrooms feel. When we show up in our humanity and with our best, it’s more accessible for students and staff to do the same.
When I was trying to decide whether to stay in an elementary principal position, I remember looking for signs on my daily walks after work. I kept seeing cardinals. So many, in fact, that it felt like it had to be sign. Now, there are people who say that cardinals represent guidance from people who have passed away. I remember telling myself on these walks that my dad and mother-in-law were showing up to guide me. Whether they were or they weren’t, believing this was an indication of what I needed: love and support.
I try to carry that lesson with me into schools. No job is below me. No detail is too small. It’s about honoring the work and the people who do it. It’s about the culture we’re building—one choice at a time.
I worry about this so much that I wrote about it in Legacy of Learning, “You are giving others the strength to move forward, the strength to believe in themselves, the strength to try to make this world a better place. Knowing this makes being an educator so meaningful. But we don’t have to suffer while we make this kind of impact. In fact, the more we can live well and be well, the more our impact will grow.”
It dawned on me today that if I want this in our school district, the best way to get it is to see the little kid inside of others. When they are yelling, unreasonable, seemingly unfair, they are afraid of something or longing for something too. Picturing their little self allows me to approach them with more compassion. It’s not that I will “treat them like a kid” but I will love them in the ways I needed love then and need it now.
There’s a fine line between being selfless and about others and about the work without being too small.
This may be the most obvious but underrated way we change our schools, our communities, and ultimately the world.
MEGHAN LAWSON 