What if we lived like the masterpiece was already within us?
Not something to chase. Not something to prove. But something to uncover: one brushstroke, one note, one word, one choice at a time.
Every student. Every educator. Every human.
Brushstrokes of Belief
I think about the times I’ve compromised this mindset. When I was told I dreamed too big. When I was advised to play it safe. I think of the moments when I silenced the masterpiece inside me and gave in to the ease of the status quo. I remember the opportunities I allowed to slip by: ideas that could’ve blossomed into impact because I chose comfort over courage.
As leaders, we must stay grounded in our core. We must also recognize and nurture the masterpiece within the people we serve. Every child, every teacher, every staff member-each one carries the potential for something extraordinary. And it’s our role to invite them into that mindset by stewarding a culture of trust and belonging.
The Invitational Question
As the school year begins, it’s easy to get swept up in to-do lists, calendars, classroom setups, and kickoff meetings. We aim for a smooth start. We hope for a clean slate and an open horizon.
But what if we paused and started the year with one powerful, invitational question?-
How might we co-create a masterpiece in our schoolhouse: one that uplifts our students and each other?
Let that question be your catalyst. Maybe it’s what your team needs to hear from you. Maybe it’s what you need to hear from yourself. Let it refuel your purpose. Let it restore your voice. Let it help you walk in your truth.
Rewriting the Lesson Plan Narrative
In The Pepper Effect, I write about believing in your school’s masterpiece. Just like The Beatles banded together to create Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, a masterpiece isn’t made in isolation—it’s built in collaboration and powered by belief.
At one school where I served as principal, we embraced this mindset in an unexpected place: lesson plans.
Too often, lesson plans become compliance checklists, stifling creativity and reducing the work of educators to mere documentation. Some principals use them as instruments of what Stephen M.R. Covey calls “Command and Control” leadership.
We flipped the script.
Instead of just turning in lesson plans, teachers would highlight a Masterpiece Moment: a singular experience they crafted with passion and intention. It might be a writing prompt, a science experiment, a read-aloud, or a student-led discussion. It didn’t have to be perfect: it had to be purposeful.
In faculty meetings, these moments were shared and celebrated. One teacher compared her lesson to Georgia O’Keeffe’s Sky Above Clouds. Another likened hers to a jazz solo-improvised yet deeply moving.
That small practice opened space for connection, creativity, and belonging. And it reminded us that teaching, like art, is about resonance not replication.
Beethoven’s Ninth and the Schoolhouse
When Beethoven composed his Ninth Symphony, he was completely deaf. Yet, out of silence, he created one of the most profound masterpieces in human history, a work that transcends time, language, and boundaries. The Ode to Joy finale still brings audiences to their feet in awe. It always brings me to tears.
What does that have to do with school leadership?
Everything.
Sometimes leadership feels like working through silence. This can occur when feedback is absent, progress feels slow, or inspiration wanes. And yet, like Beethoven, we still compose. We still create. We still believe. Because the masterpiece is not in the noise, it’s in the conviction, the resilience, and the courage to keep going.
Your school can be your Ode to Joy—crafted not out of perfection, but out of perseverance and purpose.
Four Moves to Practice Masterpiece Leadership All Year Long
1. Curate “Masterpiece Moments” Monthly Set aside 5 minutes during staff meetings to highlight one standout teaching moment from a colleague. Let them share what made it special. Invite joy, not judgment.
2. Embed the Question Into Coaching & Walkthroughs Use the question “What part of your instruction this week feels like a masterpiece?” as a reflection prompt in coaching conversations or feedback forms.
3. Display Masterpiece Boards In a shared space, physically or virtually, let staff (and students!) contribute their own “masterpiece” moments throughout the year. This builds a gallery of impact, belonging, and belief.
4. Model It as a Leader Share your own masterpiece moments as a principal—an email to families, a conversation with a student, a restored partnership. Let your staff see your brushstrokes, too.
The Masterpiece Within
A true masterpiece is timeless and universal. It’s not about accolades or applause; rather, it’s about meaning. It connects us to our humanity. It sparks new ideas. And in leadership, that’s our calling: to ignite that mindset in others.
Especially on the days filled with deadlines, meetings, emails, and decisions—remember:
You are the catalyst. You carry the brush, the baton, the pen.
We all carry a masterpiece within us. What if that belief became the prevailing mindset—in our schools, in our leadership, in our lives?
Let’s lead from that place. Let’s teach from that place. Let’s be that place.
A Collaborative Blog Post by Meghan Lawson & Sean Gaillard
Sean:
This post is a follow-up to our recent collaboration on Season 4 of The Bear. Meghan Lawson and I had such a great time thought-partnering and exploring leadership through the lens of this compelling show that we knew we had to keep the conversation going. When a story grabs your heart and your mind in equal measure, you follow it. For us, The Bear does just that.
We both love this show. We find ourselves returning to its characters, their struggles, their growth, and the environments they navigate because there are so many leadership lessons embedded in their journeys. These are not neat, polished takeaways. These are messy, raw, and very real moments that mirror the work we do in schools and systems every day.
One of the most moving scenes from Season Two is found in Episode Seven, “Forks.” It’s a moment where Richie, played with heart and grit by recent Emmy nominee Ebon Moss-Bachrach, has just completed a transformative stage at a fine dining restaurant. He wanders into the kitchen, reflecting, observing, absorbing. There, he finds Chef Terry, portrayed with quiet power by Olivia Colman, delicately peeling mushrooms.
They exchange a short but unforgettable conversation.
Richie asks, “Why do you do this?” Terry replies, “Respect.”
That single word hangs in the air—soft yet commanding. It lands like a truth bomb.
Richie follows up, “Time well spent. That’s what it’s all about?” Terry responds, “Yeah, I think so.”
As she steps away, she shares a simple, affirming note: Carmy, Richie’s current boss, told her that Richie was good with people.
That moment is not loud. It is not filled with urgency or ego. It is filled with presence, affirmation, and intentionality. Those are the moments worth striving for as a leader.
I love those quiet moments when I’m walking the hallways and visiting classrooms in the school I serve. These are the quiet moments that reflect the glow of a child who feels that sense of belonging. It is the knowing glance from a teacher when I see them in action with a teachable moment. Those are the moments which sustain and carry me on the days when I may be bereft of energy or I have forgotten my leadership purpose.
You go in quest of those moments that echo your purpose as a leader and resonate in impact that ignites the good for others. That makes the whole gig worthwhile.
Over the years, school leadership has sometimes been mistaken for performance art—standing on tables, performing viral-worthy stunts, orchestrating social media optics. While there’s a place for fun, it should never be contrived. Leadership is not about applause. It’s about authenticity.
The “Forks” episode plays like a compelling work of art. It simmers and marinates with beautifully-wrought simplicity. And in that quiet simplicity, we’re reminded: respect isn’t loud. It’s intentional.
And there it is—one leadership lesson.
Meghan:
Sean has so beautifully captured this story, and I’m so glad he mentions it because it is indeed one of my favorite moments from the show.
My husband works in college basketball, and a while back, I wrote a blog post titled, Painting Ladders. It was about how I learned from him that every little detail matters, and none of us are above contributing to those little details.
There was a season when his team won their conference. We all know the tradition: players climb the ladder to cut down the net. That moment is symbolic, beautiful, and hard-earned.
But before the moment, there was the ladder.
The team’s ladder was yellow—not one of the school’s colors. My husband didn’t complain or delegate. He went out, bought navy paint, and stayed up until midnight painting it. No announcement. No credit. He just did it.
Because it mattered. Because of respect.
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.
“Every second counts” is a phrase repeated throughout The Bear. It’s even emblazoned on the kitchen wall. But this scene reminds us: it doesn’t mean hustle until you break. It means something deeper. Every second is an opportunity to honor your work, your people, and the space you share.
Leadership isn’t just pushing for results. It’s about presence. Listening. Quietly showing someone they matter.
Terry is peeling mushrooms. Richie is paying attention. A few words are exchanged. A leader is affirmed. A purpose is clarified.
That is leadership.
I believe these kinds of moments shape culture. Hallway conversations. Check-ins after a tough day. The unseen prep done with care. The fork that gets polished when no one is watching.
I remember when I first became a building principal. I had dreams of grand gestures for staff, but I was serving over 700 students PK–5 with no assistant principal or counselor. The grand ideas gave way to meaningful ones: showing up in classrooms, learning kids’ names (first, last, and middle), greeting students at the door, cleaning fingernails, brushing hair, riding the bus.
That’s where the culture was built.
There are no small moments in a school.
So, here’s to peeling mushrooms. Here’s to painting ladders. Here’s to time well spent, quiet presence, and respect that shows up without a microphone.
Every second really does count.
Let’s keep leading like it matters. Because it does.
Four Actionable Leadership Moves:
Lead with Presence, Not Performance Show up consistently, not for the spotlight, but for the people. Leadership is built in everyday interactions, not staged moments.
Honor the Small Details From a clean classroom to a student’s confidence boost, the smallest touches reflect the greatest respect. Don’t underestimate their impact.
Practice Intentional Affirmation Just like Terry affirmed Richie, leaders should look for genuine moments to recognize others. Quiet encouragement often speaks the loudest.
Be Willing to Paint the Ladder Do the behind-the-scenes work. Fix the overlooked things. Whether anyone notices or not, that’s how you show respect for the team and the mission.
Let’s keep polishing forks and painting ladders. Leadership lives in the quiet corners.
A collaborative reflection by Meghan Lawson & Sean Gaillard on leadership, belonging, and bright spots inspired by Season 4 of The Bear
Special Note: Big thanks to my good friend, Meghan Lawson, for collaboration and thought partnership on this joint blog post! Meghan is a dream to collaborate with and I am honored that we joined writing forces on this shared piece. Thank you, Chef!
Lessons from Season 4 of The Bear
So, if you haven’t watched, SPOILER ALERT.
I told my good friend, Sean Gaillard, this week that his friendship not only makes me a better leader, it helps me to listen more deeply and appreciate more fully. This includes music which won’t surprise those of you who know Sean. Over the past couple of years, Sean and I have bonded over our love of the show, The Bear, a show filled with beautiful messy people who love imperfectly but love deeply. We cannot help but see many connections to education and hope you enjoy our six lessons from season 4 below.
Meghan 1: Less is More
Prior to this season, Carmy wanted to put out a new menu every day. He claimed to have many reasons for this. Fresh ingredients, novelty, the possibility of a Michilin star, but this proved to be both taxing on his team and expensive and unsustainable long-term. If The Bear wanted to stay in business, they would have to simplify. They would have to do less well. So, they started to minimize ingredients, focused on making simplified but exquisite meals consistently, and they worked to optimize the customer experience. As a result, things start to turn around for their restaurant.
I couldn’t help but see the inevitable parallel between this restaurant story and our work in schools. Too often, well-intentioned educational leaders learn of the latest and greatest in education and push those initiatives out to the staff in the hopes that this will be the year that they reach their school goals and see swift improvements in their data. We all know how the story ends. Some teachers burnout and others become disengaged figuring that “this too shall pass” so why bother with some of these “flavor of the month” strategies.
There is such a thing as too much of a good thing. When I need reminding of this, life humbles me with little missteps. I’ve put too much salt on my food to the point it’s become inedible. I’ve used too much blush or too much hair product and spent the day looking like a Broadway stage wannabe. And I’ve tried to do too much at one time with my team and had it backfire. So, I’m not writing this as some leadership expert. I’m writing this as someone who seems to learn lessons over and over again and only one way: the hard way.
We’ve been working on growing the capacity of our building leadership teams in my school district. I presented a plan for the work to principals for feedback in the spring. Then, when the hustle of the school year subsided, and we shifted gears to summer planning and learning, after digging into some learning together, it was clear. Parts of my plan were too much, and we needed to pivot. So, we did.
And this is why you need to listen to and trust your team.
Meghan 2: You Need a Team More than You Think
I read something powerful. I believe I found it in The Culture Code by Daniel Coyle. Essentially, in a study of teams, the team of high achievers who didn’t work closely together did not perform as well as the average performers on a high-functioning team. In The Bear, members of the team fully embrace their special role on the team. Ebraheim focuses on The Beef sandwich shop where it all started for this family owned restaurant. Turns out, this simple sandwich window is single-handedly keeping The Bear afloat. Syd focuses on her scallops. Tina (man, I just love her) focuses on making her pasta dish in under 3 minutes. Marcus focuses on being the best pastry chef he can be and even earns recognition in Food & Wine magazine. Richie, perhaps my favorite character, focuses on service. Nat on finances. They all do their part and do it well, and when another person is in some kind of trouble, they offer to help. They are in constant communication throughout the night. They have to be. They have to know when someone is walking behind them or when someone has a hot plate in their hands and or how much time remains before service. As they say, “Every Second Counts.” For the most part, they all have enough basic knowledge required to execute on various basic functions of the restaurants as needed. But they don’t have to do it all.
And yet, here we are. Often expecting ourselves to be the master of all things in our classrooms and schools. We want to be able to do it all and do it all at a high level. But what if we shifted our energy to identify how to leverage the strengths of our team? It’s not that we aren’t going to meet and won’t be collaborating. The Bear has a team meeting every day as do most restaurants. Some even break bread together before they begin service. But are we being strategic about the way we utilize the gifts of our teammates in a way that is equitable and advances our mission? I’m not a whiz at spreadsheets, but I know how to facilitate a meeting that moves us from point A to point B and ensures equity of voice. Can I learn how to be better at spreadsheet work? Sure, I can. We are all learners. Learning is our business. Is becoming a spreadsheet master, something I hate by the way, the best use of my time and energy when I have teammates who thrive in spreadsheets? Probably not. Planning an impactful meeting, using those sheets, gives me energy and is also needed.
Meghan 3: You Are Not Your Job
Throughout this season of The Bear, it’s clear that Carmy is having an existential crisis. He’s spent his adult life hyper-focused on his work. So much so, that this work became all he knew of the world and himself. For those of us, myself included, with childhood and adult trauma, this is a coping mechanism that I know all too well. It’s easier to compartmentalize the hard stuff and throw ourselves fully into our work than it is to confront painful realities. Natalie forces Carmy to hold her baby for a moment. He’s meeting her baby for the first time, and you can tell he is uncomfortable holding the baby at first but with time, he eases into it and himself in the moment with her. There’s a split second where Richie catches a glimpse of them, uncle and niece together, and smiles to himself realizing how special this moment truly is for Carmy. Carmy has countless moments of awakening outside of the kitchen this season and explains in the final season that he doesn’t know who he is outside of the kitchen.
I love our profession. I believe deeply in the work we do. And I worry about us. For too many of us, myself included, we’ve centered our lives and identities on success in education. 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.”
If our well-being and self-esteem is solely predicated on how well we are believe we are performing in our work, that is a very fragile ecosystem. We don’t have to earn love or earn self-worth. We already have it. Everything we have is everything we need. So, let’s start paying attention to how we talk to ourselves. Let’s talk to ourselves like we talk to people we love. The most important work is the work we do on ourselves. Everything else is secondary.
Sean: Collaborating with Meghan Lawson is always a bright spot. Her lens on leadership sharpens mine. What’s even better is that her friendship always makes be better. Her reflections on The Bear Season 4 kick open the door for all of us to pause, reflect, and notice the extraordinary in the everyday. I’m grateful to add to this conversation not just as a fan of the show, but as a school leader who believes deeply in the power of culture, connection, and care just as Meghan exemplifies.
This summer, Meghan and I had the chance to hear Dan Heath speak live at the ISTE + ASCD Annual Conference in San Antonio. His keynote, inspired by his book Reset: How To Change What’s Not Working, challenged us to “study the bright spots.” His words weren’t just memorable; they were actionable. That idea has stayed with me, echoing in my heart and practice.
Bright spots can be found in great TV, too. And The Bear is brimming with them—tiny, powerful moments that show what leadership, belonging, and humanity look like under pressure. Here are a few that have stuck with me and how they’ve nudged me to lead better:
Sean: 1. The Art of Delight
In one of the standout scenes, Richie makes sure a guest gets an authentic Chicago Beef sandwich. That alone would’ve been enough. But then? The restaurant team makes it snow. A surprise. A moment of joy. An act of intentional delight.
Great leaders do the same. They listen for delight opportunities. They tune into what others need even if they don’t say it out loud. Delight isn’t about flashy gestures; it’s about showing people they matter.
For me, this takes the form of Positive Principal Phone Calls Home. I call families not because something went wrong—but because something went right. A student showed kindness. A kid made growth. A teacher created magic. It’s the equivalent of snow falling indoors. And it always lands.
Sean: 2. You Are Never Alone
Carmy, fractured and guarded, prepares lunch for his estranged mother. Syd chooses to show up for Richie even though the wedding they’re attending is for his ex-wife. These moments speak volumes. In the kitchen or in the chaos, someone chooses to be there.
Leadership, at its best, is presence. Not performance.
On a recent flight home, I noticed a fellow passenger battling flight anxiety. No fanfare. Just a quiet offer to talk, sit, and be. We shared the journey—sky and fear alike. That moment reminded me of school. We often say the principal’s office can be a lonely place. But it doesn’t have to be. Leaders must extend that reminder: you are not alone to students, staff, and families. And sometimes, to ourselves.
Sean: 3. Belonging Matters
There’s a powerful scene where Richie’s daughter is too afraid to dance at a wedding. What do the adults do? They crawl under the table and share their own fears. It’s tender, honest, and unforgettable.
Leadership is often loud. But sometimes, it’s quiet courage: the willingness to go under the table with someone else’s fear and stay there with them until they’re ready to rise.
This summer, I wrote handwritten letters to my staff. Simple notes of gratitude and anticipation. No big speech. Just connection. It’s how belonging begins by saying: I see you. I’m glad you’re here. I can’t wait for what’s ahead.
The Bear isn’t just entertainment. It’s a mirror. A reminder. A bright spot. And as we get ready for a new school year, there’s no better time to slow down, reflect, and carry these lessons into our leadership.
-Here’s to delight. -Here’s to presence. – Here’s to belonging. – Here’s to the bright spots.
Spinning a New Track: Announcing My Next Book Leadership Riffs
As I write this blog on an early Saturday morning, the soulful sounds of jazz guitarist Wes Montgomery are playing in the background. I can’t think of a better soundtrack to accompany this announcement: my next book is on the way, Leadership Riffs: Harmonizing Inspiration, Innovation, and Impact.
In music, a riff is a catchy, repeated musical phrase or pattern—something that grabs your attention, moves the song forward, and stays with you long after the final note. That’s the heart of this book: exploring the powerful, repeatable moves that leaders can make to inspire others, spark innovation, and create lasting impact.
I am deeply honored to partner once again with the amazing team at Dave Burgess Consulting, Inc. Their belief in my first book, The Pepper Effect, a mash-up love letter to The Beatles and school leadership, meant the world to me. Their continued support of Leadership Riffs is just as heartfelt and I am filled with gratitude.
Imagine leadership as a beautifully orchestrated album:
Each decision is a purposeful chord
Each collaboration is a blend of voices in harmony
Each courageous innovation becomes a memorable melody
Leadership Riffs will serve as a guidebook for educational leaders. It will blend timeless lessons from legendary musicians with practical, actionable strategies for leading schools and teams. This is about crafting leadership that grooves with authenticity and resonates with those we serve.
Publishing The Pepper Effect was a dream come true. Now I’m thrilled that it will have a “bandmate” in Leadership Riffs. If you’d like to revisit The Pepper Effect or read it for the first time as I continue work on the new book, you can find it here on Amazon.
I invite you to join me on this journey. Follow along here on the blog for behind-the-scenes updates and maybe a few surprises along the way.
Stay tuned and be sure to follow the conversation on #LeadershipRiffs via X, BlueSky, Instagram, Facebook, and LinkedIn.
In the meantime, let’s keep the vinyl spinning and move forward with the kind of inspiration that stays at the top of our leadership playlist. The kind that makes the world a better place for others.
Signing the book contract for #LeadershipRiffs! Photo Courtesy of Courtney Gaillard
The groove is on the move in San Antonio, and Marvin Gaye’s “Got To Give It Up” is pulling me into the aisle at the end of an unforgettable MainStage experience at the ISTE + ASCD Conference. DJ Catwalk is spinning the exit music. The room is clearing out after being inspired by the beautiful voices and stories of Sabba Quidwai, Scott Shigeoka, and Jason Reynolds. And there I am—dancing alone. No choreography. No cool moves. Just me, caught in the joy of the moment.
This was one of those in-between moments—the kind you don’t plan for but end up meaning the most. The kind that happens off-script, off-schedule, and sometimes even offbeat. It’s like a classroom teachable moment or when a band falls into an unexpected groove and something beautiful just… happens.
I hadn’t been to ISTE in six years. I had never been to an ASCD event. I have been a member of both organizations for years. But this first combined experience didn’t feel like two worlds crashing together—it felt like home. It reminded me of The Brady Bunch hitting its stride: unless you were paying attention to the lyrics or the first season, you forgot it was a blended family. It was seamless, like when the Brady kids became a singing group and belted out “It’s A Sunshine Day.”
There were many moments that filled my heart.
I was honored to be named an ISTE-ASCD 20 to Watch Award recipient. (Grateful for to meet Lauren Richardson!) It was humbling beyond words. I was also privileged to co-present with my friend and thought-partner, Dr. Andrea Trudeau, on the partnership between principals and librarians—a project that has grown from our year-long ISTE-ASCD Expert Webinar Series. That presentation was special, no doubt.
But the moments in between—those moments between sessions, in the aisles, on bookstore strolls, and even in hurried walks through the Expo Hall—are the ones that have stayed with me. Like meeting finally, Jacie Maslyk, an amazing author and expert on STEM and Literacy, was akin to meeting a member of The Beatles. Or even meeting Jen Rafferty, an inspiring voice and friend in my PLN, was so meaningful.
I had the joy of finally meeting my longtime friend and collaborator, Meghan Lawson, in person. Walking the bookstore with her, sharing sessions, and learning side-by-side filled my soul. We made sure to share learning and send love to our mutual friend Lauren Kaufman, whose presence was deeply missed. And it was incredible to reconnect with some of my North Carolina PLN band—Brian Whitson, Lindsey Sipe, and Ashley McBride. Seeing familiar faces from home made it all the more meaningful.
I’ll never forget the rush of moving through the Expo Hall with Andrea as we tried to find one of our longtime inspirations, Jennifer Gonzalez. We’ve admired her work through her Cult of Pedagogy podcast and blog for years. When we finally met, the moment turned into a conversation about music, vinyl, and what’s on our respective turntables. It felt like family.
I had the honor of seeing my mentor, Todd Whitaker, co-present with Steve Gruenert. They are the co-authors of School Culture Rewired, a book that sparked the beginning of #CelebrateMonday for me years ago. During their session, Todd spotted me from the audience and invited me to share a quick story from my seat. That was another in-between moment I won’t forget.
There were so many others. Seeing Danny Steele drop the mic in a session on instructional leadership. Sitting in awe during Suzanne Dailey’s powerful Turbo Talk on happiness. One line in particular stuck with me: “Instead of asking someone how their day was, ask them, ‘Tell me something good.’” That simple shift reframed how I want to connect with others—whether in the hallway, in PLCs, or with students at dismissal. Of course, the uplifting symphony of the words of Baruti Kafele during his session on his book, What Is My Value Instructionally to the Teachers I Supervise? resonated with me deeply.
And perhaps one of the most unexpected and humbling moments? During a roundtable discussion hosted by Educational Leadership magazine, someone referenced this very blog—Principal Liner Notes—as a resource. That meant more to me than I can express. It was one of those quiet nods that affirms you’re doing something that matters.
Bringing It Home: Six In-Between Moves for Meaningful Momentum
When a conference like this ends, it’s easy to slip into the post-event blues. But I choose to stay in the groove—to keep the connection and meaning alive in small but powerful ways. Here are six moves I’m bringing back to the schoolhouse:
Move
What to Try
Why It Matters
1. Share One Track
Don’t overwhelm: just share one idea or resource with your team.
Simple focus leads to deeper conversation.
2. Ask Better Questions
Replace “How was your day?” with “Tell me something good.”
Invites joy, not just information.
3. Cue the Turntable
Ask someone what’s on their playlist, book stack, or lesson plan.
Sparks connection beyond the surface.
4. Micro-PD Moments
Host a 15-minute “conference spark” PD during planning or lunch.
Small doses of big ideas go a long way.
5. Partner Up with Purpose
Try a principal-librarian collaboration or cross-role project.
Creativity thrives in unlikely pairings.
6. Keep the Groove Going
Schedule a reconnection call with someone you met at ISTE-ASCD.
Keeps momentum rolling beyond the swag bag.
Final Riff
This conference reminded me that the work we do is about people. It’s about presence. It’s about staying in rhythm with the learners, teachers, mentors, and friends who help us write our leadership song.
To everyone I met, hugged, high-fived, or learned with in San Antonio: thank you. You filled my heart. You reminded me of the beauty in the in-between.
So keep asking what’s on someone’s turntable. Keep dancing in the aisle. And most of all—keep leading without limits. .
“The waiting is the hardest part.”-Tom Petty (1981)
As I continue my sojourn in Maine, I gaze upon the lake on another cool summer morning. A warm cup of coffee is my company along with the occasional sparkles smiling at me on the water and a lone loon swimming alongside this morning reverie in the distance.
There’s a certain kind of silence that settles in when your waiting. It’s not always peaceful. It’s filled with hope, doubt, questions, and whispers of “what if.” That’s where I have been reflecting upon lately. There is an art to waiting that leaders must take hold of and learn to appreciate. Many look to us as a lamppost on a dark, foggy night. It is important that we make that the light we carry within, our leadership core, is intact, balanced, and focused.
The Struggle of Waiting
It is important to acknowledge the truth. Waiting is frustrating. It is excruciating into its life span and sometimes I allow negative moments to roam rent free in my head. I try to cope with waiting by cueing up familiar songs to carry me through the anxiety of waiting: “The Waiting” by Tom Petty, “Tired of Waiting for You” by The Kinks, or “I Am Waiting” by The Rolling Stones (a great deep cut by them from my favorite album of theirs, “Aftermath.”) Speaking of the Stones, I even imagine myself in their classic “Waiting on a Friend” video hanging out on the stoop with Mick Jagger looking for Keith Richards. Yet, the bottom line remains for me that waiting is just plain hard.
As leaders, we are wired to take action, make moves, plan next steps. We calculate, strategize, and analyze. There is urgency in the air that needs our focus and we called to act. The clock is ticking, people need decisions, and our vision and mission to serve our school community must be maintain momentum.
Sometimes the most important growth most important growth happens when nothing appears to be happening. For leaders, waiting can feel like failure. It can compel us to embrace the abysmal and tune into second-guesses and should haves. But in this stillness, I’m learning that not moving doesn’t mean not growing.
Waiting is an opportunity.
A Leadership Riff in the Shadows: George’s Quiet Resilience
George Harrison waited. He always did. Whether it was waiting for his guitar solo cue during the early days of The Beatles or waiting for spiritual enlightenment during his pursuit of Transcendental Meditation, George simply waited. He endured a long journey to have his voice and songs recognized within The Beatles. He waited in the shadow of the successful and thriving shadow of the Lennon-McCartney songwriting partnership for years. He watched song after song of his get passed over. But instead of giving up and surrendering to doubt, he kept writing. Occasionally, a song would be accepted and many of his songs in The Beatles still resonate today like “Something,” “While My Guitar Gently Weeps,” and “Here Comes The Sun.”
When the time finally came, George Harrison released the epic-three album, “All Things Must Pass.” This was an album of such depth, resonance, and majesty that it proved to the waiting wasn’t a waste; rather, it was a gathering. That gathering included an all-star line up musicians ranging from former bandmate, Ringo Starr, to Eric Clapton, Klaus Voorman, and all members of Badfinger. Phil Spector co-produced and served the album up with the Wall of Sound. It was filled with songs that The Beatles had rejected and hits that still spin today like “My Sweet Lord” and “What Is Life.”
George Harrison proved that waiting does not have to yield in an abrupt ending. Waiting can compel something beautiful to happen.
Leadership Wait Time
Waiting is a leadership discipline. It can take years to cultivate and nuance for one’s own leadership practice. Waiting teaches us patience, humility, faith, and emotional agility. In the classroom, teachers use “wait time” as a move to create space for students to pause, think, and reflect. It is an intentional pause that is meant to create belonging for students who may feel bashful at responding or to set the stage for a teachable moment to resonate within the classroom.
Leaders have wait time, too. The waiting room is where character gets built. It’s where we learn to lead without control, to listen instead of speak, to reflect instead of react.
As leaders, we have to cultivate space for waiting to ignite reflection. We have to give permission for ourselves to roam into that space to discover new things within ourselves and the people we serve.
This is not always easy and it can be ponderous. I reflect upon the moments of when I am challenged to wait as a leader and as an individual. Within the frustration of the moments of endless waiting, I have sometimes missed those opportunities for reflection and positivity. It’s easy to default to damning doubts and shifting the blame to some universe conspiring against me. Waiting does not have to be negative. We have to shift the paradigm on waiting to something akin to opportunity.
Brene Brown expressed this best for leaders, “Patience is not about waiting. It’s about how we behave while we’re waiting.” This is where we must be very cognizant of how we respond and move during our leadership wait time. We model the expectations and set the tone in our moves. Many look us to be that solid beacon of calm during any level of wait time and it’s important that we lead with grace, poise, and purpose during a leadership wait time.
Waiting can be a pressure cooker for leaders, but it’s important to maintain our core during those ponderous wait times.
There may have been pressure to fill a vacancy quickly whether it was for a teacher, assistant principal, or support staff member. But instead of rushing, you held out for the right fit. You waited, trusted your instincts, and stayed aligned with your school’s mission and values. And when that person arrived, it was clear they were the one. They didn’t just fill a role; they elevated the culture, built trust, and made a lasting impact on students and staff.
That moment, that hire validated the wait. The right choice often takes time.
A Quiet Riff to Carry Forward
Waiting is not weakness. It’s part of the journey. The silence we endure on a decision to be made or an action to occur is not empty. The silence may be an opportunity for you to compose a new song you don’t yet hear. I think of a time during my first principalship when our school was waiting for the outcome of our magnet grant application. The waiting was far-reaching and I remember checking my inbox every day several minutes at a time. This lasted for months and it was not pleasant. The waiting period did bring the faculty closer together as we shared this collective anticipation.
Looking back, it was the waiting that not only bonded us but it helped us persevere when we found out that we didn’t get the grant. The community that was forged during this period lead our school to being the first in the district to successfully implement a non-funded magnet. We had a positive impact on kids and achievement due to the community that was forged during the waiting game.
The truth is, we don’t always get to fast-forward through uncertainty. But we do get to keep showing up with grace, grit, and belief. You can use waiting as an opportunity to model resilience, reflection, and connection with others. And that’s the kind of leadership I want to grow in, one quiet step at a time.
Three Action Steps to Make Waiting More Meaningful for Your Leadership
1. Seek Out Thought Partners
Waiting doesn’t have to be lonely. Use the pause to deepen your leadership bench. Reach out to a mentor, a colleague, or someone who inspires you. Take a spin within your Professional Learning Network (PLN) to seek those people out who can inspire and support you. Share your thoughts and listen to theirs. Thought partnership sharpens perspective, calms uncertainty, and reminds you that you’re not navigating the unknown alone. Collaboration during the waiting season often leads to renewed clarity and creative momentum.
2. Study Leadership Riffs from History
Waiting has shaped some of the most significant leaders and movements in history. Lincoln waited through agonizing losses before the tide turned. Mandela waited in a prison cell for 27 years before transforming a nation. Singer-songwriter Carole King waited years to emerge as a solo artist and record her multi-platinum selling masterpiece, Tapestry. Even The Beatles waited through setbacks and missteps before crafting Sgt. Pepper. Explore these stories not just for inspiration, but as evidence that purpose-driven delay can lead to extraordinary outcomes.
3. Use the Quiet to Bring Your People Closer
While the external outcome is pending, focus inward. Use this time to connect more deeply with your team. Hold space for listening. Celebrate small wins. Reaffirm your shared mission. Leadership isn’t just about making decisions, it’s about fostering belonging. Waiting offers a powerful window to strengthen community, build trust, and ensure your team feels seen and valued.
I’m writing this on a still, cool summer morning beside a lake in Maine. Loons call across the water, pine needles perfume the air, and sunlight pirouettes on gentle waves. After the year-end whirlwind of school life, this New England retreat feels like hitting the reset button; an invitation to get back to what matters.
Nature’s Prompt to “Lead”
A few minutes of etymology searching reminded me that “lead” comes from the Old English lǣdan—“to guide” or “to bring forth.” Add the suffix “-ship,” meaning “state or quality,” and leadership becomes the state of bringing forth. That phrase reframes my job description: draw out the gifts, voice, and brilliance already living inside the people I serve.
The Beatles’ Blueprint
Getting back isn’t a new idea; The Beatles modeled it in January 1969. They shelved overdubs, circled their instruments, and vowed to play live in the studio: just four bandmates and a friend (thank you, Billy Preston on keyboards). The result was the rooftop concert and the album that still centers me: Let It Be. Their back-to-basics experiment birthed fresh energy, trust, and a legendary final act. I call that ripple The Let It Be Effect—and it’s the heartbeat of my Leadership Riffs mantra.
When “Innovation” Becomes Noise
Scroll any feed and you’ll find viral clips of table-top dances, choreographed high-fives, and selfie spectacles masquerading as leadership. Fun has its place, but hype is not the same as guidance. Authentic leaders serve others; they don’t stage-manage them. The Beatles didn’t grab headlines by stunts—they plugged in, faced each other, and played. The best leaders do the same by being present in the marrow of each moment in the schoolhouse and empowering others to share their gifts.
My Own Get-Back Move
Before leaving for vacation I hand-wrote a note to every colleague at Charles England. No templates, no mass email—just ink, gratitude, and belief in their gifts. It took hours and cramped my hand, yet each card was a little rooftop concert: proof that I see them, trust them, and am ready to make music together next year.
Your Lakeside Challenge
This summer, carve out your version of lakeside stillness:
Re-read the book that first lit your leadership fire.
Phone the mentor whose wisdom steadies you.
Gather teammates around a whiteboard and ask, “How might we…?”
Write one genuine note of thanks—no emojis necessary.
These simple riffs spark innovation while stitching the fabric of belonging and trust that every schoolhouse and every team needs.
Take the time to get back. Get back to what called you. Get back to your purpose. Get back to the people you serve.
When we get back to our core, we lead with clarity, conviction, and heart. That’s the gig. That’s the work. Let’s get to it.
Special thanks to Lauren Kaufman for helping to inspire this blog post! Be sure to check out her amazing and insightful blog site: https://laurenmkaufman.com/.
A very special thanks to Deb Gaillard for inspiring our visit to Maine! She’s my favorite human and the best person I know!
The Summer Series of The Principal Liner Notes Podcast continues with an inspiring and heartfelt conversation featuring Dr. Sonia Matthew, the 2025 Maryland Assistant Principal of the Year.
Dr. Matthew brings deep insight, clarity, and joy to this conversation. We explore the essential role of the assistant principal and the importance of school leaders being intentional about mentoring and empowering their APs. Our discussion was more than a reflection, it was a call to action. As principals, we are called to create space for leadership to grow and thrive at every level.
One of my favorite moments in this episode is the mention by Sonia of Lauren Kaufman and her amazing book, The Leader Inside. As many of you know, Lauren is a frequent guest on my podcast. Her book is a great resource for mentorship and inspiration that is worthwhile for several revisitations. The impact of the book on Sonia is definitely compelling and you will get an opportunity to experience that impact in this episode.
What you’ll also hear in this episode is just the beginning. Dr. Matthew and I are already planting seeds for a new collaboration that will shine a spotlight on the assistant principalship and provide meaningful support and coaching resources for those who serve in that vital role.
Listen and join us in this reflection on purpose, leadership, and the power of lifting each other up. I would love to hear your comments on this episode. Please feel free to share here or on one of the podcast platforms shared here.
Recently, I came across a clip on YouTube of the late Ray Manzarek of The Doors telling the origin story of their 1967 hit Light My Fire. It’s one of those creative origin stories that just sticks. Ray talked about how each band member added a unique musical flavor that transformed the song into something iconic.
Guitarist Robby Krieger brought his flamenco background and wrote the core of the tune. John Densmore layered in a Latin beat on drums. Jim Morrison added a poetic and haunting verse about a funeral pyre. Ray himself took a page from Bach to create that unforgettable keyboard intro. All these ingredients came together like a great jam session, different parts working in harmony to create something innovative, inspired, and bold.
The Doors didn’t play it safe. They took a leap. They trusted each other. And they built something greater than the sum of their parts. That story got me thinking about what it means to lead and solve problems in a school.
When it came time to revise our master schedule at the school I serve as principal, the challenge was real. We needed to maximize instructional time and expand opportunities for intervention. But we didn’t tackle it in isolation. We did it together.
Over two weeks, I brought the challenge to our Instructional Leadership Team, the School Improvement Team, and several staff and teacher partners. These weren’t just quick drop-ins or top-down mandates. These were real conversations, one-on-one meetings, small group huddles, and full team sessions. I started each one with a simple design thinking prompt: How Might We…?
I’ll never forget one particular session with the School Improvement Team. We were all gathered around the same table. Teachers led the discussion. We weighed pros and cons. Ideas flew. Everyone added a perspective, and each voice mattered. There was no single author of the final schedule. Just like The Doors building Light My Fire, each person added a line, a beat, a riff.
Once we landed on a draft, I shared we’d treat it as a trial run. That removed pressure and opened space for feedback. We gave it a shot, came back, reflected, and adjusted. And here’s the best part—it worked. Not because it was perfect, but because it was owned. Teachers had skin in the game. Everyone contributed. Everyone collaborated. Everyone made it better.
This process reminded me that these collaborative moments between teachers and school leaders must echo what we want our students to experience. According to the World Economic Forum, one of the top job skills for 2025 is complex problem solving. Our students won’t master that skill from worksheets alone. They’ll learn it because we model it. Because we live it. Because we solve problems together.
3 Action Steps To Take Build A Collaborative Problem Solving Culture
Leadership is about making space for others to create. It’s about asking How Might We instead of You Must. It’s about letting teachers jam. Here are three ways schools can start building that kind of collaborative problem-solving culture:
1. Create Solution Building Time Set aside time during the month for small, creative think tanks. Bring together teachers, staff, and leaders in a low-pressure space to brainstorm, ideate, and prototype solutions. Use design thinking prompts. Use sticky notes. Use music. Just make it fun and focused.
2. Launch #InstantPD Moments Give teachers the mic. Once a week, host a 15-minute pop-up PD session where a teacher shares a strategy that works. These micro-sessions build confidence, spread great practice, and create the conditions for more teacher-led innovation.
3. Use the Power of the Trial Run When testing something new, give permission to try without pressure. Frame it as a pilot. Invite feedback. Circle back. This builds trust and opens the door for authentic input that shapes real change.
Whether it’s jamming with colleagues on a new idea or leading a full schedule redesign, when we bring people together, we get better. We build trust. We spark creativity. We light fires.
Let’s keep jamming. Let’s keep solving. Let’s keep leading like it matters.
This is your latest #LeadershipRiffs moment from the desk of a school principal who still believes in the power of collaboration, creativity, and the beautiful noise we make when we lead together.
How Brian Wilson’s Music Taught Me About Leadership, Vulnerability, and the Courage to Keep Going
Devastated.
Brian Wilson is gone.
The news hit me hard today. Brian wasn’t just a musical genius. He was a spiritual guide, a quiet architect of harmony, and the voice behind songs that shaped my life. His music—those symphonies of soul, longing, and joy—have been my compass through the loud and quiet moments of living.
Just last week, I was basking in the joy of a surprise Father’s Day gift from my wife and daugthers: tickets to see The Beach Boys live. Brian had long since retired from performing, but his presence was felt. It always is. It lingers in the harmonies. It rises in the arrangements. It pulses in every chorus sung by a crowd of strangers suddenly made family by melody.
I was fortunate to see Brian perform live several times in the late 1990s and early 2000s during his remarkable comeback. It was more than a concert. It was a rebirth.
Brian’s music has accompanied the milestones of my life.
I remember pressing my ear to a clock radio 45 years ago, trying to catch every layered nuance of Good Vibrations. I didn’t understand the complexity of what I was hearing yet—but I felt it. I was entranced.
I remember watching a Beach Boys concert on HBO in the 1980s with my dad. He loved R&B and soul, and yet there we were—grooving, smiling, singing along to Fun, Fun, Fun like it was gospel.
I remember hearing the opening chords of California Girls in the delivery room as my twin daughters were being born. That mini-symphony played while new life entered the world, and in that moment, I felt the rush of peace. God was with us. Everything was going to be okay.
I remember not gettingPet Sounds, in its first when I first heard it in 1990. But I grew into it—and came to see it for what it is: the greatest album of all time. A masterpiece of heart, soul, and innovation.
I remember hearing Cabin Essence from a bootleg copy of SMiLE on vinyl in a record store. I looked around in stunned silence. A clerk caught my gaze and nodded as if to silently say, “We get it, don’t we?” No words. Just knowing.
I remember driving my oldest daughter home from daycare, both of us singing Heroes and Villains at the top of our lungs. Laughter and joy spilling through the car like sunshine.
But Brian Wilson didn’t just give us songs. He gave us strength.
Through Pet Sounds, he showed me that vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s strength in its purest form. Through SMiLE, he taught me that unfinished dreams can be resurrected with grace, imagination, and perseverance. Through his life, he reminded us that the creative process is messy, sacred, and worth the fight.
Brian Wilson’s willingness to face his mental health struggles publicly—amidst a whirlwind of fame and pressure—changed how I view courage. He didn’t hide his pain. He didn’t pretend it wasn’t there. He just kept going. Kept writing. Kept harmonizing. That quiet, determined bravery became a guiding light for me.
Last year, when I experienced a heart episode that resulted in me being rushed to the hospital, I found myself in one of the most vulnerable seasons of my life. Alongside the physical recovery came emotional weight—mental health struggles I didn’t always know how to name. In that difficult stretch, I thought of Brian. I revisited his story. I played Pet Sounds and SMiLE. His music gave me permission to slow down, to feel, to heal. His example reminded me that we don’t have to be perfect to keep going—we just have to keep showing up, one note at a time.
Brian Wilson’s quote, “Music is God’s voice,” echoes eternally in my mind.
As a school leader, that idea centers me. It reminds me that learning is sacred. That harmony matters. That love, when set to rhythm, can move hearts and minds in ways nothing else can.
For those who’ve followed this blog or listened to the Principal Liner Notes podcast, you’ve heard me talk about Creative Courage. That’s Brian Wilson to the core. The courage to innovate. To feel deeply. To fail. To rise. To try again.
Today, I mourn. But I also give thanks.
I give thanks for the peace his songs brought me in a delivery room. I give thanks for the laughter his melodies brought into my car. I give thanks for the strength his life gave me when I needed it most.
Brian Wilson changed my life.
His harmonies still ring. His spirit still sings. And for those of us willing to listen, his legacy keeps leading us forward—in the key of empathy, in the tempo of grace.
Thank you, Brian. You gave us harmony. You gave us honesty. You gave us your heart.
Leadership Liner Notes: Sean Gaillard 