Music

If School Leadership Had a Wrapped List

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As the year winds down, our inboxes begin to tell a familiar story.

Year-end notices arrive in waves. Deadlines stack up. Checklists multiply. There is an understandable push toward closure, accountability, and tying up loose ends. Much of it is necessary. Much of it is also draining, especially in a profession where the emotional labor rarely slows down.

Then, there is Spotify Wrapped.

Every year, I look forward to it in a way that surprises me. Wrapped does not ask me to prove anything. It does not measure me against anyone else. Instead, it reflects back what I returned to over time. It names patterns. It celebrates consistency. It turns data into story.

No surprise that The Beatles were once again at the top of my list. It also did not surprise me to see that I landed in the top point five percent of listeners globally. That statistic is fun, but what matters more is what sits beneath it. These are the songs I go back to when I need grounding. The music that meets me where I am and helps me remember who I am.

That contrast stayed with me.

Wrapped invites reflection. School systems often rush toward evaluation. Both look back, but they do so with very different intentions.

The Leadership Reset That Sparked the Idea

This idea began to take shape during a Leadership Reset I have been practicing and sharing with others. You can see an earlier blog post on The Leadership Reset here. It is intentionally simple and designed to fit into real days, not ideal ones. It does not need special materials or extended time. Just a few minutes of presence.

The 3 Minute Leadership Reset

Step 1. Take a Breath for 30 seconds
Close your eyes if you can. Inhale slowly and say to yourself, I am still here.
Exhale and say, I am enough.
Repeat this three times. Let your shoulders drop and your breathing slow. This is the act of reclaiming your space in the moment.

Step 2. Anchor in Gratitude for 1 minute
Ask yourself quietly:
What one small moment today reminded me I am alive?
What one connection, a smile, a song, a student, gave me a spark?
What one thing am I proud of, even if no one noticed it?
Write it down or say it aloud. These moments are leadership echoes that ripple outward even when they feel small.

Step 3. Affirm and Reframe for 1 minute
Say these words out loud, slowly and intentionally:
I am not invisible. I am building something that lasts beyond applause.
My work is meaningful, even when it is quiet.
The music I make through service, kindness, and creativity still plays, whether or not the crowd is listening.
Let these words settle. This is the act of tuning yourself back to the right frequency.

Step 4. Reconnect for 30 seconds
Before moving on with your day, take one small action to reconnect:
Send a brief message to a friend or colleague.
Offer a kind word to a student or staff member.
Play a song that brings you joy.
These micro moments rebuild our leadership core from the inside out.

As I reached this final step, I pressed play on “Now and Then” by The Beatles. It was my number one song again for the second year in a row on my Spotify Wrapped List.

There was something deeply fitting about that moment.

The song carries themes of time, memory, and continuity. It reminds us that voices can still be heard long after the room grows quiet. That truth feels especially relevant in schools, where so much meaningful work happens without applause or recognition.

Leadership is not always loud. Teaching is not always visible. Learning does not always announce itself on a dashboard.

But the work still plays.

What If Schools Had a Wrapped Moment?

Spotify Wrapped works because it tells a story of return. It shows us what we came back to again and again when no one was watching. It honors presence over perfection and patterns over isolated moments. It gives language to what sustained us.

What if we borrowed that spirit in our classrooms and schoolhouses?

Not as another initiative. Not as something to hand in or score. Not as a tool for comparison.

But as an invitation.

A moment to pause. A chance to reflect on the year through a human lens. A way to help students, teachers, and leaders feel seen in a season that often feels rushed.

Your Year Wrapped

A Reflection Template for Classrooms, Teams, and School Communities

This reflection can be used in many ways. It serves as a journaling activity. It can spark a classroom conversation. It can act as a PLC opener. It can also be a quiet end-of-year pause during a staff meeting. There are no right answers and no expectations for sharing. The goal is reflection, not performance.

Most Revisited Moment
What moment from this year did you find yourself returning to in your thoughts or conversations? What made it stay with you?

Most Meaningful Connection
Who made this year better simply by being part of it? This could be a student, a colleague, a mentor, or someone outside of school who helped you keep perspective.

The Song That Carried You
What song, quote, book, prayer, or moment gave you comfort? What gave you energy when you needed it most? Why did it matter?

A Quiet Win
What is something you are proud of that did not receive recognition or attention? What does that say about the kind of work you value?

Your Growth Genre
In what ways did you grow this year, even if it felt uncomfortable, unfinished, or messy? What did you learn about yourself?

Your Comeback Track
On hard days, what helped you reset and keep going? What practices, people, or routines supported you?

Your Hope for What Comes Next
What do you want to carry forward into the next season with intention and care?

This kind of reflection helps us name what often goes unnoticed. It gives dignity to effort, presence, and perseverance.

Why This Matters

In education, we spend a lot of time focusing on gaps and goals. We analyze what is missing, what needs to improve, and what did not move fast enough. That work has its place, but it cannot be the only story we tell.

Reflection like this builds belonging. It helps people feel valued for who they are, not just what they produce. It reminds students that their experiences matter. It helps teachers reconnect with purpose. It allows leaders to remember why they chose this work in the first place.

Most importantly, it creates space for humanity in systems that often move too quickly to notice it.

Press Play Before the Year Ends

Before we close the year with another notice or checklist, perhaps we take an intentional pause.

We take a breath.
We reflect on what carried us.
We press play on what still brings us joy and meaning.

The music we make through service, kindness, and creativity still plays whether or not the crowd is listening. That work echoes in ways we may never fully see.

And sometimes, that is exactly enough.

If you try a Year Wrapped reflection in your classroom or school, I would love to hear how it goes. Please feel free to leave a comment here or tag me on social media. This work is better when we share the music that keeps us grounded and moving ahead.

Keep listening.
Keep reflecting.
Keep believing.

Finding My Band

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When I was a kid, I was often one of the last picked for kickball. I remember the sting of waiting. I stood in awkward anticipation. I hoped someone would invite me on the team. I did my best to keep my head held high like my father had taught me. I watched captains point to someone else and tried not to show my disappointment. I was that kid hoping to belong. Hoping to be seen. Hoping to be chosen.

I think I have spent most of my life chasing that feeling of belonging. Wanting to be part of something bigger than myself. Wanting to feel the spark when you look around and know you are with your people who see you. Wanting a band.

A band for me is not just the literal type where individuals play music together. I use the band as an analogy for collaboration, belonging, and sustaining a shared vision. As a school leader, I would perpetuate this concept by referring to colleagues as “bandmates.” I thought that this mindset would help the culture and enhance belonging for all in the schoolhouse.

Being in a band is wonderful. There is purpose and possibility in the sound you create together. I felt that sense of belonging as a guitarist in a few literal bands. There is nothing like locking into a groove. Seeing another musician look over with that nod says we are in the pocket. I felt that same belonging when I taught English at Governor’s School. I was surrounded by a team of educators who celebrated collaboration and creativity. I felt it a few times in school leadership within administrative teams that shared a vision and worked in harmony.

Spinning on my turntable as of late is “The Beatles Anthology Collection.” It is a treasure trove of alternate takes, live recordings, and demos. It also includes unreleased tracks and a trio of their reunion songs. I love hearing the band workshopping songs and encouraging each other through various mistakes and flubs in the studio. It serves as a reminder of what a band should do when they face an echo of a failure. They should handle the resonance of a mistake wisely and stick together. You play through it, learn from it, and keep the groove moving on. Listening to this beautiful audio package of The Beatles in this alternate trajectory is wonderful. It makes me miss the joy of being in a band. I miss being with people who understand my sound.

Lately, I have been drifting. Feeling like a castaway. Wandering around a crossroads. Watching from a distance as others find their bands. I see camaraderie and connection and I often feel sadness that I am not part of it. Recently, I saw a group of leaders celebrating together in a LinkedIn post and I felt left out. I felt that old kickball feeling. The one that sits heavy.

For a long time I thought that if I waited long enough a band would find me. That a group would invite me in. That someone would want my presence, ideas, and voice. I waited. I believed. I hoped.

And then it hit me. I was waiting for a band that was never coming.

I have also forced the idea of band on others over the years. I regret that. Not everyone is ready to be in a band. I never took the time to realize that I am the barrier to the band. And the harder truth to accept is that maybe nobody wants to be in a band with me. Maybe I am not meant to join someone else’s group. Maybe I am meant to build something from the ground up. I am learning to sit with that. I am learning to accept it with honesty.

So here is where I am now.

I am at peace with where I am now.

I am at peace with the people I get to meet and support daily.

In the meantime, I am forming my own band.

Not by asking others or convincing colleagues or trying to prove myself that a band is the way to go. Not by waiting for an invitation that will never arrive. I am just going to keep creating. Keep writing. Keep podcasting. Keep blogging. Keep finishing the second book. Keep playing my sound without apology.

If I stay true to that maybe the right bandmates will hear the music. Maybe the ones who resonate with authenticity will wander into the room. Maybe belonging is not something you wait for. Maybe belonging is something you build.

I believe in the band. I always have.

And the next track begins now.

The Sound That Prevails: Leadership Lessons from Nick Drake and Unseen Impact

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The Vinyl Moment

This morning, I started my day with a cup of black coffee and a vinyl spin. I always appreciate the reflective warmth of time alone with coffee and the crackle of the needle on an album. I decided to start the day with Nick Drake’s “Five Leaves Left.” His 1968 debut is going through a renaissance of source with a recently released multi-disc archival reissue. “The Making of ‘Five Leaves Left'” was recently nominated for a Grammy Award for Best Historical Album.” “Five Leaves Left” is timeless and intimate with the delicate stylings of Nick Drake’s voice and solid layers of his acoustic guitar fingerpicking. Some of the tracks resonate with the lush sensitivity of orchestral accompaniment. Unfortunately, the quiet beauty of this music was largely unheard in Nick Drake’s lifetime. The album did not chart in the artist’s United Kingdom homeland or the United States. It is estimated that “Five Leaves Left” my have sold 5,000 copies initially. A few UK critics admired the album and praised its songwriting, but Nick Drake’s debut did not serve as the basis for any triumphant herald.

There is something sacred about starting the day with Nick Drake on vinyl. The gentle crackle of the needle gives way to his quiet voice, fragile yet eternal. In his lifetime, few listened. His albums never charted. His songs drifted into silence before they could find an audience. Yet decades later, his music has become a timeless canon that reaches hearts he never lived to know. I think about that often as a leader. We may never fully know the reach of our work or the appreciation we long to feel. We hear the critiques, the surveys, the noise of what is wrong. But somewhere, in the midst of that silence, our sound still carries. It reaches someone. It matters.

The Unheard Artist

Nick Drake’s musical career continued on that same trajectory as his debut. He released two more albums in his lifetime. None of them charted and received little radio airplay. Nick Drake also struggled with promoting his work due to his lack of confidence with live performance. The record company believed in his artistry but struggled with how to market and promote him. Nick Drake also struggled with depression. Tragically, Nick Drake died at 26 unaware of how profoundly his music would resonate decades later.

There’s something in the story of Nick Drake that mirrors leadership. The work we do as leaders is sometimes unseen, unacknowledged, and often uncelebrated.

The Leader’s Quiet Stage

As a school leader over the years, I have had my share of complaints, negative survey outcomes, and feedback that can sting. It’s easy to for others to fixate on what’s wrong or missing from your leadership. In those moments, it can alienating like no one can hear the song you are trying to play. Even though these moments are fleeting, sometimes they can fester. I can definitely acknowledge the emotional cost that those moments can ignite spaces of self doubt, loneliness, and Imposter Syndrome. We have to tune into the belief that leadership, like art, is an act of faith that the sound will reach someone even if you never know it.

A Therapeutic Takeaway for Reflection

In a recent conversation with my therapist, he encouraged me to sit still and reflect upon the impact that I had made over the years as a school leader. It was a timely reminder that I took to heart as we bemoaning the negative moments and allowing them permission to define my core and impact as a leader. Sometimes, it’s not loud applause but quiet ripples that matter the most. Those quiet ripples like a teacher’s growth, a student’s success or a colleague’s encouragement that resonate in ways that we never know. We just have to know that when we lean into the gifts of others that we are making an impact. We have to believe in ourselves even on the days when we think no one believes in us.

An Unlikely Impact in a Volkswagen Commercial

Nick Drake’s songs eventually reached millions nearly 25 years after his untimely death. The resonance of his beautifully wrought music from his small corpus of three albums took time, but it happened. In 1999, a commerical promoting the Volkswagen Cabrio used the title track from Nick Drake’s final album, “Pink Moon.” A massive revival of Nick Drake followed and the small cult following that had kindled the flames of Nick Drake’s work felt validated by this movement. I remember seeing said commerical and almost falling off my couch. I had lovingly kept, “Way to Blue,” a compact disc complilation of Nick Drake’s music as one of my most cherished albums. I was in a small club of devoted followers who were drawn to the ache of Drake’s music-the bittersweet, poetic lyrics, the complex guitar tunings, and the moving production. Now, Nick Drake was catapaulted into legendary musical infinity. His voice now timeless and boundless for future generations to discover and cherish.

In leadership, sometmes our influence often plays out long after the moment. The sound of encouragement, belief, and kindness endures even if we never hear it echoed back. When we do hear that echo land back to us, it is important that we treasure that moment and know that our presence mattered to someone else. We should take stock of that moment of impact on someone else and be grateful that our presence mattered to someone else and proved to be a salve for that person.

I think of the leaders and teachers who saw something in me that I did not see in myself and I am grateful. As best as I can, I try to let that past leaders and teachers that their seemingly small act of seeing me and believing in my worth changed my world. Even though Nick Drake passed away when I was a mere child of four years and an ocean away, his music made my days less lonely when I was questioning my own journey. Now, I unabashedly give thanks for the music and legacy of Nick Drake.

Keep Playing

Even when appreciation feels absent, keep playing your song. Leadership is not a performance for applause or validation. Sometimes, it’s a quiet composition for connection. The work we do may not always be noticed, but it still matters. Somewhere, in a classroom, a meeting, or a passing moment, a note of what you’ve created is resonating. The sound may be soft, but it carries. Keep playing, even when the room feels silent. Trust that your melody will reach someone who needs it, even if you never hear the echo. The sound prevails.

Here’s the famous 1999 Volkswagen commercial featuring Nick Drake’s “Pink Moon.”

Be a Member of the Band: How Great Leaders Create Space for Others to Shine

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The other day I was listening to The Beatles Channel on Sirius XM. I know that sounds like a casual moment, but truth be told, I spend plenty of time tuned into that station. As a lifelong Beatles fan, I’m fully immersed in their world of melodies, harmonies, and timeless lessons.

In between the songs and interviews, the channel often airs short reflections from musicians and fans. One that recently stood out to me came from John Oates, half of the legendary duo Hall & Oates. He shared a story about his friendship with George Harrison that has been playing in my mind ever since.

Oates talked about how he and George connected over a shared love of Formula One racing. That connection eventually led to visits at George’s home, Friar Park. During one visit, Oates mustered the courage to ask if George would play guitar on the Hall & Oates album Along the Red Ledge. George agreed, but he had one request: he only wanted to be a member of the band.

He didn’t want to take the lead. He didn’t want to be “George Harrison of The Beatles.” He just wanted to play alongside everyone else and contribute to the groove. His guitar work shines on the track “The Last Time,” yet what makes this story powerful is George’s humility. Here was someone who had stood on the world’s biggest stages, yet he found meaning in simply being part of the band.

That lesson resonates deeply with me. I’ve played in a few bands myself. I’m not a virtuoso guitarist, but I’m a solid rhythm player. I love creating that foundation that lets others soar. There’s something special about hearing another musician shine because you’re holding down the rhythm behind them. That’s leadership in action.

David Bowie did a similar move when formed the band, Tin Machine. Here was one of the most iconic solo acts in music simply wanting to be a part of a band. Bowie was known for making all kinds of unexpected turns and pivots in his career. Here, he took an eclectic turn and went back to the basics of being in a band. The band wasn’t called “David Bowie and Tin Machine.” It was simply Tin Machine.

Leadership is often seen as standing front and center, but the best leaders know when to step back. Sometimes the greatest impact we can have is to lay down a steady rhythm that allows others to take flight. Being a leader means being a collaborator, a listener, a supporter. It’s about tuning into the strengths of others and amplifying them for the good of the team.

George Harrison reminded us that leadership isn’t about spotlight moments or social media metrics. It’s about humility, collaboration, and humanity. It’s about seeing the gifts in others and creating the space for those gifts to be heard.

So, wherever you lead, whether it’s a classroom, a meeting, or a community, remember this simple truth: the best leaders know how to be a member of the band. Tune into the gifts of others. Uplift their strengths. Create harmony together. That’s how the best songs and the best teams are made.

When the Impossible Finds Its Voice: How a Beatles Song Taught Me About Hope and Carrying On

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There is a phrase I keep coming back to: the impossible becomes possible.

Recently, I had another health scare that resulted in a visit to the hospital. I am alright and recuperating, but in the days that followed, I found myself searching for something to hold onto. A remix of a Beatles reunion song sent me on a journey to re-embrace hope and belief.

When The Beatles broke up in 1970, the world declared it over. Headlines announced the end of the most influential band of all time. In the years that followed, reunion rumors surfaced constantly, often fueled by money, charity, or fan speculation. Yet, The Beatles remained steadfast: no reunion. Even after John Lennon’s senseless murder in 1980, people still asked if the three surviving members might somehow return, with John’s sons stepping in. It seemed impossible.

And yet in 1995, a demo tape of John Lennon’s rough home recording was dusted off. With the steady guidance of Jeff Lynne, Paul, George, and Ringo added their voices and instruments. Out of grief, absence, and fractured history came something astonishing: “Free As A Bird.”

For me, it was a moment of awe. I was a young teacher then, two years into my career. When I read a small article about the surviving Beatles reuniting for Anthology, I ran off copies for every teacher’s mailbox in my school. I wanted everyone to feel the electricity I felt: this is really happening. When the song finally aired on television, I remember tearing up. It was not just about music, it was about reconciliation, healing, and the audacity of creating something new out of what seemed broken forever. I wrote about this event and its personal meaning to me in my book, The Pepper Effect.

In my office today, I still keep a tattered photocopy of Linda McCartney’s photo of Paul, George, and Ringo together from that era. Above it, I have written: “The Impossible Becomes Possible.” Because that is what the reunion meant to me then, and what it still means now.

And now, nearly 30 years later, “Free As A Bird” returns in a brand new mix. Thanks to modern audio restoration, John Lennon’s voice emerges clearer, closer, more present. It feels as if all four Beatles are back in the studio together. Each time I play it, I feel renewal. I feel hope.

Hope as a Leadership Catalyst

Hope is a word often dismissed in leadership circles. Some see it as naïve or impractical, a soft idea in a world that demands hard results. But I believe hope is not a weakness. Hope is a catalyst. It is the ignition that sparks vision into action.

As Casey Gwinn and Chan Hellman remind us in Hope Rising, hope is the belief that “your future can be brighter and better than your past and that you actually have a role to play in making it better.” That belief matters, especially when the weight of challenges threatens to crush our momentum.

The space between vision and action is leadership. Hope and belief have to be in that vision as catalysts.

As leaders, we do not always need a grand plan or sweeping solution in every moment. Sometimes, we just need an entry point. A reminder that even the hardest, most impossible-seeming work can move forward. For me, that entry point is hearing John Lennon’s voice stitched back into the fabric of his bandmates’ music. It is a symbol of reconciliation, resilience, and possibility.

Belief Made Real

The truth is, leadership often feels like trying to reunite what has been broken. It is messy. It is emotional. It is full of skeptics. But the work is also full of potential. When we model belief for our students, for our teachers, for ourselves, we give others permission to believe too.

“Free As A Bird” reminds me daily that impossible things can be made possible. For The Beatles, it was a reunion across decades and even death. For us, it might be turning around a struggling school, reigniting a team’s confidence, or building something new when resources seem scarce.

Whatever the context, hope can be the spark. And belief, when it is shared, nurtured, and lived, can make it real.

So when the days are heavy and the obstacles feel immovable, I return to that song. I hear the reunion of four bandmates who found a way. And I am reminded: if The Beatles could find harmony after all they endured, then maybe we can find our way, too.

As leaders, we have to believe that the impossible becomes possible. That is the gig. We must be relentless in that belief, even when the naysayers gather and the narratives say it cannot be done. Hope gives us the entry point. Belief carries us the rest of the way.

Our calling as leaders is to believe when others doubt, and to carry hope when the weight feels too heavy. When the impossible finds its voice, leaders must believe enough for others to join in the song.

Check out “Free As A Bird” (2025 Mix) by The Beatles:

A Mindset for Masterpiece Leadership

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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.

New Book Coming! Get Excited for Leadership Riffs!

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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

A Leadership Riff for You

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Here’s a thought to share from my reflection and writing this morning.

I hope you know that your sound matters and any band is lucky to have you. I sure do believe in you. Thanks for being in the band!

Now and Then, There Is Hope

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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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The Value of Embracing Square One

smgaillard Education, Leadership, Music , , , , , , , , ,

Simplicity in Jazz:

In 1969, during the recording of his groundbreaking album In a Silent Way, Miles Davis famously told guitarist John McLaughlin to “play the guitar like you’re picking it up for the first time.” McLaughlin, renowned for his complex, intricate solos, was likely perplexed by this direction. Jazz, after all, is a swirl of notes, harmonies, and complexities—a musical enigma. But Miles was after something else, something new. He envisioned a sound that was simple yet profound, stripped down to its core. He wanted his band to create a fresh ambience, to tap into a deeper, purer musical experience.

This wasn’t just any jazz album. It was a collaborative effort with musicians who, for many of them, were playing together for the first time. Miles led them to embrace simplicity, allowing space for discovery. The result? An album that, decades later, still influences and inspires musicians worldwide. It stands as a testament to the power of stepping into something new with fresh eyes and an open heart.

Back to School:

For school leaders, the phrase “Back to School” stirs a similar mix of emotions: joy, anticipation, maybe even a little fear. It’s the beginning of something new, a reset button. For some, this is a welcome opportunity; for others, it can be daunting, especially for those stepping into a new school or leadership role. But there’s immense value in embracing these new beginnings, or what I call “Square One.”

Square One offers the chance to rewrite, renew, and refocus. Whether you’re a brand-new principal or a seasoned leader in a new building, starting over can feel like walking into a conversation where everyone else is already laughing at an inside joke. You may not yet be in on it, but there’s an opportunity to listen, connect, and contribute. Building trust, creating relationships, and setting the tone for a collaborative culture takes time and effort—but it’s well worth it.

As a turnaround principal, I’ve lived through this over and over. Every school, every new beginning, felt like standing at the edge of something vast and uncertain. But I’ve learned that there’s beauty in Square One. It’s where connection is made, where trust is earned, and where growth is inevitable if you lean into the discomfort.

Embracing Square One:

I used to dread the awkwardness of starting fresh. It felt like a weird dance where I would stumble more than glide. But with time, I realized that Square One isn’t something to fear. It’s a unique opportunity. In Square One, you get to build from the ground up, to create a vision, and invite others to join in shaping something beautiful for your school community. This is where you can set the stage for a culture of psychological safety, where teachers and staff feel seen, heard, and valued.

As leaders, we can choose to embrace Square One not as a setback, but as a launchpad. We get to set the tone for our schools, encouraging collaboration and creativity in ways that may not have been possible before. When we invite others to see their strengths, both tapped and untapped, we unleash the power of collective potential. It’s like that band Miles Davis assembled for In a Silent Way—everyone playing together for the first time, discovering new possibilities.

Leadership Moves to Embrace Square One:

  1. Assess the Current Reality: Work with a coach, mentor, or thought partner to clearly identify where your Square One stands. What are the challenges, and where are the opportunities?
  2. Connect with Your Community: Engage with your staff, students, and families. Share the vision for this new beginning and the path forward. Build excitement around what’s possible.
  3. Create a Roadmap: Develop a timeline with actionable next steps. Break down your vision into tangible goals. This will give you and your team a clear sense of direction.
  4. Reflect Regularly: Take time each day to journal and reflect on the progress being made. These reflections will guide future decisions and help keep you grounded in your purpose.
  5. Celebrate Wins: Don’t wait for the big milestones. Celebrate small wins along the way, and do it publicly. Acknowledging progress builds momentum and fosters a positive culture.

Conclusion:

Just as Miles Davis sought a deeper sound by stripping away the complexity, we, as school leaders, can find clarity and strength in the simplicity of Square One. Embracing the beginning allows us to reset, reimagine, and reframe the possibilities for our school communities. As we step into new roles or new school years, let’s lead with intention, vulnerability, and an openness to collaboration. The beauty of Square One lies not in its uncertainty, but in its promise. Like Miles and his band on In a Silent Way, we have the opportunity to create something timeless by being fully present in the moment.

Listen to Miles Davis’ In a Silent Way here.