Now and Then, There Is Hope

Hope is something we all need. Whether we’re leading a school, guiding a team, or simply navigating the ups and downs of daily life, hope serves as our compass. It’s the whisper that reminds us we’re on the right path, that our vision matters, and that our efforts have the potential to create something meaningful.

But let’s be real—there are days when the compass feels broken. Days when we question our choices, when doubt creeps in, and Imposter Syndrome casts a shadow over our accomplishments. I’ve been there. We all have. And in those moments, I’ve learned that it’s the small, unexpected flashes of hope that keep us going: the spontaneous smile from a student as I walk down the hallway, the moment a teacher’s lesson hits its stride, or even a kind text from a loved one reminding me I’m not alone in this work.

Sometimes, hope arrives in the form of a song. As many of you know, I’m an unabashed Beatles fan. From The Pepper Effect to #ThePepperEffect, to countless references in talks, blog posts, and podcasts, The Beatles are my creative wellspring. My book, The Pepper Effect, explores the lessons of collaboration, creativity, and leadership that can be drawn from The Beatles’ groundbreaking Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. If you’d like to learn more about it, you can check it out here.

Last year, I had the privilege of writing a piece for Culture Sonar about Now and Then, the “last” Beatles song. The story behind this song resonates deeply with me as a testament to the power of hope. You can read that full piece here.

The story of Now and Then is itself a lesson in hope and perseverance. John Lennon recorded a rough demo at his piano in 1977. When the surviving Beatles—Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr—tried to finish it in the mid-90s, the project hit a wall. The synergy wasn’t there, and the technical limitations made it impossible to isolate John’s vocal clearly. The song was shelved, unfinished, but Paul never let it go. He believed there was something special in John’s demo—a spark waiting to ignite.

Decades later, in 2022, Paul and Ringo revisited Now and Then. With the help of advances in AI and the brilliant production skills of Giles Martin (son of George Martin, The Beatles’ original producer), they were able to clean up John’s vocal and add new musical elements. In 2023, the song was released, and for me, it felt like the world was witnessing a small miracle—a moment when something lost was found again. It was a triumph of hope, a testament to the belief that the impossible can become possible.

Earlier this week, I heard the news: Now and Then has been nominated for a Grammy Award for Record of the Year. It’s a powerful reminder that music—like hope—has the power to change the world. This song, born from a rough demo and sustained by Paul McCartney’s unwavering belief, is a symbol of what can happen when we refuse to give up on something that matters. It’s a lesson for all of us as leaders: sometimes, our vision won’t be embraced right away. There will be times when our ideas are met with polite nods or silence. But that doesn’t mean the idea isn’t worth pursuing. It just means we need to persevere and trust in the process.

Hope isn’t just a feeling; it’s a leadership move. It’s the quiet persistence to revisit ideas, to keep communicating, to invite others to collaborate and play together in the sandbox of possibility. I think about my latest initiative at school—the Principal Read Aloud. As a new leader, I wanted to find a way to connect with our students and teachers, to build trust and community. I proposed giving teachers a 30-minute break while I read aloud to their classes. It’s a simple idea, but it’s grounded in hope and the desire to show our school community that I’m here for them.

So far, only two teachers have signed up, and that’s okay. I’m hanging in there, just like Paul McCartney did with Now and Then. I believe in this small act of connection, and I’m willing to wait for it to grow, one read-aloud session at a time. Because that’s what hope looks like—it’s the willingness to keep showing up, to keep believing in the possibility of something beautiful taking shape.

As leaders, we have to hold onto hope like a North Star. It’s our guiding light, helping us navigate through challenges and inspiring others to do the same. Whether it’s in our school hallways, our team meetings, or even in the quiet moments of reflection, we have to keep hope in the foreground. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.

And as The Beatles remind us in their final song, hope is the thread that ties the past, present, and future together. Now and then, there is hope. It’s what brings us back, time and time again, to believe in the magic of possibility and the power of collaboration.

Let’s keep hope alive in our leadership moves. Let’s embrace the small moments that spark joy and connection. Let’s take the time to revisit old ideas, to share our vision with others, and to trust that, in the end, something beautiful will emerge.

Tune in to Hope:

• Embrace Small Acts of Connection: Like my Principal Read Aloud, find simple ways to show your heart and commitment to your school community.
• Persevere with Your Ideas: Even if your vision isn’t immediately accepted, keep refining and revisiting it. Trust that it has the potential to resonate with others over time.
• Invite Others to Collaborate: Hope grows when we invite others to join us on the journey. Create space for shared ownership and creative contributions.

The journey of Now and Then is a reminder that we’re all part of something bigger. When we lead with hope, we open the door for new possibilities to enter, and that’s when the real magic happens.

Listen to Now and Then by The Beatles here.

#NowAndThen #LeadershipRiffs #TuneIntoHope

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Links:

• Order my book, The Pepper Effect
• Read my Culture Sonar Article on Now and Then