A Principal’s Rebirth: Finding Life, Love, and Leadership Again

“Call 911.”

These were the last words I heard from our SRO before everything went dark and I fell to the ground.

This was not just a sudden medical emergency—it was the culmination of years spent silently carrying anxiety, stress, and deepening depression. It was the moment my body forced me onto a new path, the first steps toward rebirth.

Last year, I experienced a traumatic health crisis, what doctors described as a cardiac episode triggered by years of relentless anxiety, chronic chest pains, and suffocating Imposter Syndrome. It happened at school, amid the daily chaos and pressures we face as leaders. My body simply gave out.

When I regained consciousness, I was surrounded by paramedics and the incredible members of my office staff, working rapidly to keep me alive. Tears filled my eyes as fear overtook me—I genuinely believed I might never see my wife and our three beautiful daughters again. Breathing was impossible, and the chest pains intensified.

As they rolled me into the ambulance, a flood of thoughts rushed in. I saw my family—moments missed, memories sacrificed. My heart ached thinking of the countless times I’d prioritized my work over my loved ones, placing duty to my school ahead of duty to my family and, ultimately, myself. I called out to God, and then darkness returned.

When I awoke in the hospital, tethered to various medical devices, my heart eased the moment I met my wife’s calming eyes. My oldest daughter was already there, confidently navigating conversations with doctors, demonstrating remarkable strength and poise. Pride overwhelmed me—but so did shame. As her father, I should have been protecting her, not the other way around.

It’s been a full year since that fateful day—a journey of healing, renewal, and rediscovery. My physical health and blood pressure are now managed carefully. Regular therapy sessions every other week have transformed my outlook, grounded in the love and unwavering support of my family and a few deeply cherished friends who check in weekly. Every day, I practice intentional self-care, finally understanding that my identity as a principal should never overshadow my humanity.

As the creator of #CelebrateMonday, I recognize now that I wasn’t celebrating myself. I leaned too heavily on fleeting PLN connections, seeking external validation while overlooking the unconditional, immediate love from my family. While my PLN gifted me a handful of true friendships, I realize my greatest strength comes from being fully present with those who truly cherish me. In pursuit of acceptance, I had unknowingly compromised my core values as a leader.

This past year has gifted me profound clarity and growth. I’ve learned to distinguish between genuine leadership and the seductive illusion often sold through polished selfies, viral gimmicks, and ego-driven platforms. I now seek authenticity, humility, and depth, distancing myself from empty slogans and superficial validations. I am grateful being at a new assignment returning to a school district I truly love and feel sincere support, empowerment, and belonging.

This month marks a year since my rebirth—a new birthday I honor with deep gratitude. My perspective is forever changed. I embrace each moment ahead with my family and true friends, choosing authenticity over illusion, presence over performance, and self-care over self-neglect.

Here’s to life renewed, leadership redefined, and love fully embraced.

Keep Playing, Even If No One Is Listening

There’s something powerful about picking up the guitar, writing the words, and hitting record—even when it feels like no one is tuning in. The greatest artists, thinkers, and change-makers didn’t wait for an audience before they started creating. They played. They wrote. They spoke. They persevered against the silence.

Paul McCartney recorded McCartney alone, layering every instrument himself. Bruce Springsteen stripped it all down and put out Nebraska, unsure if anyone would connect with its raw vulnerability. Nick Drake’s Pink Moon was met with quiet indifference at first, only to become a masterpiece embraced long after he was gone. These albums weren’t made for applause; they were made because the artist had to create.

The same applies to you. Your words, your leadership, your creativity—it all matters, even if it feels like no one is paying attention. Keep writing the blog. Keep crafting the lesson. Keep showing up for your students and colleagues. Someone, somewhere, will be moved by your work when they need it most.

The silence isn’t a signal to stop. It’s an invitation to keep going. #LeadershipRiffs

The Ripple Effect of Belonging

The other day, I found myself in pre-production mode for an ASCD Expert Webinar I’m co-facilitating with Dr. Andrea Trudeau. We were just moments away from going live—an exciting milestone in our partnership with ISTE-ASCD to explore the power of principal-librarian collaboration.

Despite having delivered keynotes, facilitated countless meetings, and never being one to run out of words, I felt a twinge of nervous energy. Andrea and I had carefully planned this series, designed to help principals and librarians cultivate belonging through meaningful partnerships. Still, the unknown had me teetering on the edge of speechlessness.

Then, as our “executive producer,” ISTE-ASCD Senior Manager for Community Engagement Margaret McGuinness, prepared to hit the button to go live, I centered myself in a simple truth and voiced the following: If we connect just one principal with one librarian, we’ve done our job. Andrea and Margaret nodded in agreement, and together, we stepped into uncharted territory. The webinar was a success and I believe both Andrea and I were able to help others build some bridges that day.

That’s the thing about belonging—it starts with a single step. A single connection. A single moment of shared purpose.

The Power of a Ripple

It’s easy to hesitate when stepping into something new. But what if The Beatles had given up when they played to an audience of just 18 people early in their career? Instead of letting the small crowd deter them, they leaned into the moment. They played their hearts out, laughed at the absurdity, and kept going. That spirit of persistence and joy shaped their journey—and, in turn, has inspired mine.

The same principle applies to leadership. Impact isn’t measured in likes, viral moments, or fleeting trends. It’s about connection. It’s about the quiet, intentional moves that build belonging—moves that ripple outward in ways we may never fully see.

I think of my fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. McMonagle, who saw something in me before I saw it in myself. With a single conversation, she opened my world to literature, art, critical thinking—and yes, The Beatles. That moment still echoes in my leadership today.

Tuning into Belonging

As school leaders, our role isn’t to chase the spotlight. It’s to cultivate an environment where every student, every teacher, and every staff member feels seen, heard, and valued. That kind of belonging isn’t built in grand gestures but in the everyday moments:

🎸 A handwritten note on a teacher’s desk reminding them that their work matters.
🎸 A lunchtime conversation with a student that shows them they belong.
🎸 A simple high-five in the hallway that lets someone know they are valued.
🎸 An intentional partnership that strengthens the fabric of a school community.

These small moves create big ripples.

Join the Conversation

That’s exactly what Andrea and I are exploring in our ongoing webinar series, The Power of Partnership: Enhancing School Success Through Principal and Librarian Collaboration. Through these 30-minute sessions, we’re diving into practical ways to align goals, foster communication, and leverage library resources to support student success. This journey will culminate at ISTELive 25 and ASCD Annual Conference 25 in San Antonio where we will present our work.

Let’s keep the conversation going. Join us, engage in the dialogue, and lean into the work that truly lasts.

A Postcard, A Drumbeat, and A Leadership Move: Building a Culture of Belonging

Earlier this week, Beatles fans around the world commemorated the 56th anniversary of their final live performance—the legendary rooftop concert atop Apple Records. Captured in Get Back and memorialized in Let It Be, this moment was their live swan song, a testament to creative courage and collaboration.

Last week, I wrote about Rooftop Moments—the bold, defining moments that school leaders should cultivate with their teams. But there’s another, lesser-known moment in Beatles history that happened the day after that performance. A simple yet profound leadership move.

On January 31, 1969, Paul McCartney sent Ringo Starr a postcard that read:

“You are the greatest drummer in the world. Really.”

This wasn’t a public accolade or a grand gesture. It was a handwritten note—one musician reaching out to another, reinforcing connection and belonging. A small moment, but a significant one.

As school leaders, we talk about culture-building, trust, and recognition. Shoutouts in memos or emails are a start, but I’ve come to realize they often feel transactional, fleeting. Teachers deserve more than a quick mention in a newsletter that might be skimmed and forgotten. True belonging is built in the quiet, intentional moments—through handwritten notes and meaningful feedback.

The Power of a Handwritten Note

At Charles England Elementary, we start each faculty meeting with Praise and Thanks—a time to share shoutouts and gratitude. It sets a positive tone and creates psychological safety. But not everyone feels comfortable speaking in a large group, and exhaustion can sometimes make participation hard.

At a recent meeting, I placed blank Energy Bus-themed notes (inspired by Jon Gordon’s book) on tables and asked staff to write a message of gratitude to a colleague. No prompts, no pressure—just a moment to reflect and uplift. As I looked around, I saw teachers smiling, some wiping away tears, completely immersed in the moment. The next day, those notes found their way into mailboxes, and the ripple effect of encouragement began.

A handwritten note isn’t just ink on paper—it’s a tangible reminder that someone sees you. That your work matters. That you belong.

The Leadership Move: 30-Second Feedback

Another way we are reinforcing belonging is through 30-second feedback, a practice inspired by Mike Rutherford’s Seven Tools for Developing Teachers and Teaching (link). This simple but powerful strategy involves stopping into a classroom, identifying one specific positive thing, and sharing that feedback—either verbally or in a quick note.

Here’s what makes it work:

  • It’s not evaluative—just pure affirmation of great teaching.
  • It’s quick but intentional—a handwritten note, a short hallway chat, or a sticky note left on a desk.
  • It highlights strengths—no jargon, no checklist, just celebrating a moment of impact.
  • It builds connection—leaders engaging with teachers in a meaningful way, beyond scheduled observations.

I keep a pocketful of blank Post-its and make it a goal to visit at least three classrooms a day, leaving behind 30-second feedback. It’s transformed how teachers feel about their work. They light up, just like I imagine Ringo did when he read Paul’s postcard.

Four Ways to Build Belonging with Handwritten Notes & 30-Second Feedback

  1. Commit to Daily Touchpoints
    • Visit three teachers a day and leave either a quick verbal or written affirmation.
    • Track your visits to ensure everyone receives meaningful recognition.
  2. Use Specific Praise
    • Instead of “Great lesson!” try: “The way you engaged students in discussion today was fantastic. I could see their excitement!”
    • Authentic, detailed praise carries weight.
  3. Make Handwritten Notes a Habit
    • Keep blank notecards or sticky notes handy.
    • Surprise staff with a handwritten note in their mailbox or taped to their door.
  4. Encourage Peer-to-Peer Recognition
    • Incorporate note-writing into staff meetings or PLCs.
    • Provide postcards or themed templates to make it easy and fun.

A Legacy of Belonging

Think about the impact: just 90 seconds a day dedicated to 30-second feedback builds a culture where teachers feel seen, valued, and empowered. Multiply that over a school year, and you’ve created an environment where trust and belonging flourish.

As Meghan Lawson (link) reminds us in Legacy of Learning, these small wins shape the culture of a school. They’re the moments that keep teachers inspired and engaged.

56 years later, I’m still moved by a simple postcard between bandmates. It reminds me that leadership isn’t always about the big moves—it’s about the small, consistent moments of connection that build something lasting. Just like The Beatles, our legacy as educators is one of collaboration, impact, and belonging.

What’s your next leadership move? Maybe it’s as simple as writing a note.

The Rooftop Moment: Embracing Creative Courage Amidst Doubt

I’ve written and rewritten this blog post countless times in my mind. It has been weighing on my heart, especially after navigating a week filled with a few setbacks. Nothing catastrophic, but still moments of dejection that linger. One of those moments was particularly difficult: an idea I had for a collaborative book was taken in a new direction—without me.

As someone who values collaboration and the joy it brings, I’ve learned that I need to be more mindful of whom I choose to collaborate with. Seeing my work and ideas rebranded as someone else’s originality hurt deeply. It stung because the creative journey is already fraught with battles against Imposter Syndrome and anxiety. These emotions creep in especially when I venture into new creative territory: Will it be good enough? Will people understand what I’m trying to do? When someone else quickly disinvites you from a project and takes it solo, it’s a painful reminder of the delicate steps needed to protect your own creative vision.

Late last year, I thought I had cracked the code on a follow-up to my first book, The Pepper Effect. I had an outline, a vision, and an unshakable drive. But that momentum fizzled as life threw its challenges my way. Stress, high blood pressure, and self-doubt culminated in a health scare that landed me in the hospital. It was a wake-up call. With the support of my incredible wife, my family, my therapist, and my faith, I began to rebuild—both physically and emotionally. Part of that rebuilding process involved reconnecting with my writing. Blogging weekly became my creative anchor, a way to keep my writing muscles intact and grooving. Each blog post has been a step forward, a way to regain confidence and prepare myself for the marathon of writing another book.

The recent letdown with the collaborative book idea is a chapter I’m reframing not as failure, but as a lesson learned. It’s a reminder to trust my vision, something I wrote about extensively in The Pepper Effect. Sure, it stings to see accolades being given for an idea that I helped shape, but as Mel Robbins writes in The Let Them Theory, I can’t let other people’s actions control my journey. Let them take their version of the idea, I tell myself. Let me move forward with my vision. And as my therapist often reminds me, “…and that’s okay.”

When I need inspiration, I return to The Beatles. They are my creative North Star. My first book explored how their story is a template for creativity, collaboration, and innovation. My follow-up book, which I’m calling The Let It Be Effect, will continue in that vein, diving into the Get Back/Let It Be era. If you’ve followed me on social media, read my blogs, or listened to my podcasts, you’ve seen glimpses of this concept. The Let It Be Effect will build on the four tenets of The Pepper Effect (Believe in your vision, Believe in your masterpiece, Believe in your collaborators, Ignore the Naysayers), but it will also introduce something new: the idea of the Rooftop Moment.

The Rooftop Moment is inspired by the Beatles’ legendary final live performance in January 1969. During the recording of what would become the Let It Be album, the band faced immense challenges. They hadn’t performed live in three years, there were creative differences, and at one point, George Harrison even quit the band. Despite all this, they decided to perform—not in a grand concert hall, but on the rooftop of their Apple Corps headquarters in London. It was a cold January day, and the decision to perform wasn’t finalized until the last minute. According to director Michael Lindsay-Hogg, John Lennon’s decisive words were, “F— it—let’s go do it.”

And they did. The Beatles, joined by keyboardist Billy Preston, walked up to the rooftop and made history. That performance became their iconic Rooftop Concert, a moment of creative triumph amidst doubt and adversity. It was the final time they performed live together, and it remains a testament to the power of taking bold action despite uncertainty.

The Rooftop Moment is about just that: taking a dynamic leap of creative courage when the odds feel overwhelming. It’s about playing your gig, painting your masterpiece, or writing your book, even when doubt tries to hold you back. The Beatles ignored convention and their own self-doubts to create something unforgettable. I know I need to do the same with my follow-up book.

Let the critics and naysayers have their opinions. Let them. As for me, I’ll aim for my Rooftop Moment—that decisive act of putting my creativity into the world, no matter what. I’ll let the inspiration flow and trust that what I create will resonate with those who need it most. And that’s okay.

I hope this inspires you to find your own Rooftop Moment. Whether it’s a project you’ve been hesitant to start, a challenge you’re ready to face, or a dream you’ve been quietly nurturing, remember: the world is waiting for your masterpiece. Let it be.


Four Moves to Create Your Rooftop Moment:

  1. Lead with Vulnerability: Share your passion or a creative idea with your team or community, even if it feels risky. Vulnerability fosters connection and courage. For me, this was bringing my guitar to school and sharing a song I wrote based on our school’s core values during grade-level assemblies. It was risky, but it created a memorable and inspiring moment for my students and staff.
  2. Model Risk-Taking: Show your team that it’s okay to step outside their comfort zones by doing it yourself. Whether it’s trying a new teaching strategy or presenting an innovative idea, your example can inspire others to embrace risks.
  3. Create Space for Creativity: Provide opportunities for your staff and students to experiment and express their ideas. This could be through collaborative brainstorming sessions, innovation labs, or simply encouraging them to bring their unique talents to the table.
  4. Celebrate the Journey: Acknowledge the effort and courage it takes to create something new, even if the outcome isn’t perfect. Recognizing progress builds momentum and reinforces the value of the creative process.

Sometimes you have to aim for what I call that Rooftop Moment—that moment where you take a move for dynamic creative action amidst overwhelming odds and you simply play your gig, paint your masterpiece, write your book. The Beatles ignored convention and their own self-doubts and applied the Let Them theory in their own way. I know I have to do the same in writing my book follow-up because I know I have another book in me and that’s ok.

Resetting Rejection: Leading with Resilience and Authenticity

Rejection is a reality. It happens, and it stings. Sometimes, the worst rejection isn’t from others who naysay, doubt, or echo endlessly the phrases, “We’ve never done it this way…” or “We always have…” Often, it’s the rejection we inflict upon ourselves that hurts the most.

The Beatles faced rejection head-on. In my 2018 book, The Pepper Effect, I recount their infamous rejection by Decca Records in 1962. The label dismissed them with the now-legendary phrase: “Guitar groups are on their way out.” Yet, the Beatles didn’t let that stop them. Instead, they adopted a “reset mindset” amidst the setback. They persevered, refined their craft, and sought opportunities elsewhere. Their resilience led to a groundbreaking partnership with producer George Martin and, eventually, music that would change the world.

Recently, I revisited the concept of resilience while reading Penny Zenker’s The Reset Mindset. Zenker outlines a three-step process for overcoming both personal and professional setbacks: Step Back, Get Perspective, and Realign. Her approach emphasizes mindful choices and intentional progress. The Beatles, whether consciously or not, exemplified this mindset. They regrouped, made strategic changes (including bringing Ringo Starr into the band), and doubled down on their songwriting. Their determination and shared vision propelled them to unimaginable heights.

I’ve endured my own share of rejection—writer’s block, rejected book proposals, pilfered ideas from unreliable collaborators, and negative problem admirers eclipsing possibilities. At times, I’ve been my harshest critic, rejecting myself before anyone else had the chance. Pressing “Publish” on a blog post can feel like stepping off a ledge, wondering if anyone will read it or if it will resonate. Recording a podcast episode Yet, a trusted thought partner recently reminded me to let my words go—to trust they’ll land where they’re meant to do so.

This advice brought to mind the Beatles’ 1968 self-titled album, commonly known as the “White Album.” This sprawling, 30-song masterpiece faced criticism for being too long or unfocused. Paul McCartney’s response? “It’s great, it sold, it’s the bloody Beatles’ White Album, shut up!” That unapologetic confidence is a lesson in staying true to one’s vision and maintaining a reset mindset.

I channeled that spirit recently when deciding whether to bring my guitar to a school assembly. As a new principal at my school, I felt hesitation. I have been a principal for 16 years and I have lugged my guitar to school for various events so this was not first gig with a guitar in the schoolhouse. Yet, I endured a series of stumbling doubts with bringing my guitar along to school. Would this feel out of place? Would it connect? But in the end, I applied the Reset Mindset. I took an intentional step back to reflect and wonder. I focused on my purpose: creating a joyful, meaningful moment for our students. I decided to move forward, tune into building a culture of belonging for students and faculty, and bring my beloved guitar to the scheduled grade level assemblies. Music is an entry point for others and serves a divine thread that connects us to our shared humanity.

The butterflies didn’t stop as I hurriedly carried my guitar into school, but when I sat down in front of our first graders and began to play, I knew I’d made the right choice. The laughter, joy, and connection we shared affirmed the decision. It was a reminder of the power of leading with authenticity and purpose. I love playing music and I wanted to be unabashedly comfortable with my best self.

Recently, on my podcast Why The Beatles Matter, I had a conversation with Dr. Donya Ball that gave me even more perspective on rejection. It was serendipitous that she brought up the idea of leaders leaning into and accepting rejection.  As I was just working on this blog post before our conversation, I readily welcomed her insight on rejection. She shared how we, as leaders, don’t talk about rejection enough and how it’s a necessary part of growth. I deeply appreciated her real talk on this reality. Rejection, she said, is an opportunity to renew, recalibrate, and re-focus. It’s another way to adapt the Reset Mindset—seeing rejection not as the end or the finality of an idea, but as a stepping stone to connect with others, build collaborative coalitions, or simply reset.

As leaders, our gig is to create meaningful moments that inspire, connect, and uplift. When we embrace resilience and focus on our purpose, we transcend rejection and lead from a place of authenticity.

Four Leadership Moves Inspired by The Beatles and the Reset Mindset:

  1. Evolve and Adapt: The Beatles didn’t let their rejection by Decca define them. They stepped back, reflected on what they needed, and made a bold move by bringing in Ringo Starr. This pivotal decision transformed their sound and solidified their lineup, exemplifying the importance of adapting to move forward.
  2. Collaborate with Vision: Recognizing the need for a fresh perspective, the Beatles partnered with George Martin, who brought a new dimension to their music. This collaboration highlighted the power of seeking thought partners who align with your vision and elevate your work.
  3. Refine Your Craft: After their setback at the failed Decca Records Audition, the Beatles didn’t stagnate. They doubled down on songwriting, tirelessly honing their skills and experimenting with new ideas. This relentless pursuit of excellence demonstrates how leaders can use rejection as fuel to refine their craft.
  4. Stay True to Your Purpose: Despite criticism and pushback, The Beatles never abandoned their creative vision. Whether it was the ambitious scope of the “White Album” or their genre-defying innovations, they stayed true to their purpose, leading with authenticity and confidence.

The importance of tuning into the Reset Mindset cannot be overstated. As leaders, modeling this mindset for others empowers our teams and fosters resilience. Let’s embrace the journey together and inspire others to do the same.


Resources to Dig Deeper for Reflection and Action

Tune in to the upcoming episode of my podcast, Why The Beatles Matter, where I continue this conversation with Dr. Donya Ball. Her insights on leadership, rejection, and authenticity are not to be missed. Plus, she’s a joy to engage in for conversation! You can also learn more about her work and check out her TEDx Talk at https://www.donyaball.com/.

Explore more connections to The Beatles and leadership in my book, The Pepper Effect: Tap into the Magic of Creativity, Collaboration, and Innovation.

Check out Penny Zenker’s The Reset Mindset: How To Get Unstuck, Focus on What Matters Most, and Reach Your Goals Faster.

Paul McCartney on “The White Album” as mentioned above: It’s a great quote and shows The Reset Mindset in action.

The Heart of Leadership: Humility and Belonging

Earlier this week, our country lost a remarkable leader in former President Jimmy Carter. The tributes that followed didn’t focus on grand speeches or flashy displays of power. Instead, they celebrated Carter’s unwavering faith, his steadfast dedication to community, and his lifelong commitment to making the world a better place for others. His leadership wasn’t about being the center of attention or staging photo-ops; it was about rolling up his sleeves and humbly serving those around him.

As educators, we must ask ourselves: What kind of leaders are we striving to be? Are we chasing the spotlight or building the light in others? For too long, I’ve seen school leaders drawn to performative leadership—the standing on tables, the viral stunts, the costumes designed for “likes” rather than lasting impact. While these acts may entertain for a moment, they often fail to empower others or build the foundation of belonging that our students, teachers, and families need.

Leadership isn’t about gimmicks or self-promotion. True leadership lies in tuning into the gifts of others and encouraging them to follow their unique paths. It’s about listening more than speaking, serving more than being served, and building a culture where everyone feels valued, seen, and capable of greatness.

Jimmy Carter once said, “We must adjust to changing times and still hold to unchanging principles.” His words remind us that the principles of humility, service, and community are timeless in leadership. Humble leadership is a quiet force that lifts others without fanfare. It builds cultures of belonging, not through stunts, but through consistency, care, and compassion.

For many years, my father instilled in me the idea that greatness comes not from being on a stage but from being in service to others. He taught me to dare to be great by encouraging others to step off the sidelines and into their potential. As leaders, it’s our calling to help others “kick off the bench” and take those daring steps toward their own greatness.

Four Leadership Moves to Build a Culture of Belonging with Humility

1. Listen With Purpose

Create opportunities to listen to the voices of students, teachers, and families. Regularly ask, “What do you need?” or “How can I support you?” and act on what you hear. Listening isn’t just hearing—it’s responding with action and intention.

2. Celebrate Others’ Gifts

Leadership isn’t about being the hero of every story. Shine the spotlight on your team. Recognize the unique talents and achievements of those you serve. Build platforms where others can share their brilliance.

3. Serve Quietly and Consistently

Leadership is often found in the small, unseen moments. Show up early to greet students. Pitch in during tough times without announcing it. Let your actions speak louder than your words.

4. Model Humility in Every Interaction

Humility isn’t weakness; it’s strength in understanding that leadership is about others, not ourselves. Admit mistakes, ask for feedback, and be willing to learn alongside your team.

Let us step away from the noise of performative leadership and into the quiet power of service. Leadership isn’t standing on a table or staging antics that distract from our core mission. It’s about humbly helping others discover their greatness.

As I reflect on Jimmy Carter’s legacy and the lessons my father taught me, I’m reminded of the simple truth: Leadership is not about being in the spotlight—it’s about igniting the light in others. Dare to be great by building a culture where everyone belongs and is empowered to lead.

Let’s get to work, sleeves rolled up, hearts full of humility, and hands ready to serve.

Go Electric: A Lesson from Bob Dylan

I didn’t expect the tears.

But there I was, sitting in a dimly lit theater, tears streaming down my face as Bob Dylan defiantly sang “Maggie’s Farm” to an audience torn between boos and cheers. I was watching A Complete Unknown with my oldest daughter, Maddie—a thoughtful Christmas gift she knew I’d treasure.

The scene that stopped me in my tracks was Dylan’s iconic performance at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival. Armed with a Fender Stratocaster, he boldly plugged in and “went electric,” breaking away from the acoustic traditions revered by the folk community. The reaction was a mix of outrage and elation. Boos echoed from the purists, but Dylan, backed by members of the Paul Butterfield Blues Band and organist Al Kooper, played on.

As a lifelong fan of the Butterfield Blues Band, seeing actors portray my music heroes—Mike Bloomfield on guitar, Sam Lay on drums, and Jerome Arnold on bass—deeply moved me. Their musicianship had always resonated with me, and witnessing their essence captured on screen added another layer of emotion to an already powerful moment.

This scene, beautifully brought to life by Timothée Chalamet as Dylan, is more than just a snapshot in music history. It’s a testament to creative courage.

Resonating with Dylan’s Defiance

I’ve watched the documentaries, taught this moment in my high school English classes, and pored over Elijah Wald’s Dylan Goes Electric. I even dedicated an episode of my Principal Liner Notes podcast to it. Yet, seeing it unfold on the big screen hit differently.

Dylan’s act of “going electric” wasn’t just about plugging in an electric guitar; it was about rejecting the status quo, staying true to his evolving vision, and embracing the risk of change. The boos, the backlash—none of it stopped him. He knew that growth required stepping out of the safe and into the bold.

That lesson transcends the 1960s. For leaders, it’s a call to innovate, to embrace challenges, and to stay true to our core values, even when met with resistance.

The Courage to Play On

As leaders, we often face our own “Newport moments.” Whether it’s introducing a new initiative, rethinking old practices, or simply challenging the comfort of the status quo, there’s always a risk of pushback. People may not immediately understand—or embrace—our vision.

During a recent faculty meeting, I introduced a new approach to teaching and learning. I’ll admit, I was nervous about how it would be received. To ground myself, I brought along my copy of Wald’s Dylan Goes Electric. On the cover was Dylan, guitar in hand, staring down the crowd with quiet resolve. That image reminded me to stay steadfast, to “play on” even when the riffs might not land perfectly with everyone. (See picture below.)

Going electric is about more than innovation. It’s about embodying the courage to grow, to inspire others, and to stay true to our vision. It’s a reminder that, as leaders, we have the responsibility to model resilience and boldness for those we serve.

A Legacy of Creative Courage

Dylan’s 1965 performance is more than a legendary moment in music—it’s a blueprint for leadership. After Newport, Dylan continued to push boundaries, recording groundbreaking albums, earning accolades, and even winning the Nobel Prize for Literature. He didn’t let the boos define him; he let his vision propel him forward.

His story inspires us to embrace creative courage. When we face the naysayers or wrestle with self-doubt, we can hold our heads high, just as Dylan did, and press forward with conviction.

Four Ways Leaders Can “Go Electric”

  1. Stay True to Your Vision: Know your core values and let them guide your actions, even when facing resistance.
  2. Embrace Growth: Innovation often means stepping into the unknown. Take bold steps to evolve and improve.
  3. Play On Through Adversity: Be prepared for challenges. Stay resilient and committed to your vision, even when others push back.
  4. Inspire Others Through Action: Your courage can empower those around you to embrace their own growth and creativity.

Dylan’s journey reminds us that leadership is not about avoiding the boos but about playing on, louder and prouder. So, let’s go electric—and inspire those we lead to do the same.

Link to my “Go Electric” episode of Principal Liner Notes

Playing to Empty Rooms: A Lesson in Perseverance

As I write this, the early morning hours find me awake, wrestling with insomnia. It’s around 3:00 a.m., and in the quiet solitude, I decide to revisit this blog. Against my better judgment, I check the stats on a recent post. I know the adage, “Comparison is the thief of joy,” but still, I fall into the trap.

The numbers aren’t encouraging. They stir up a flood of past memories—times when my efforts seemed to fall flat. The book giveaway that garnered no participation. The speaking engagement with an empty room. The book study I excitedly promoted, only to find no one signed up.

I have played to empty rooms. It’s a gut-wrenching experience. You pour your heart into your work, stepping vulnerably onto a stage without a net, only to be met with silence. It feels like validation of your worst fear: that your voice doesn’t matter. That your efforts aren’t enough. The doubt can spiral quickly, pulling you into an abyss that’s hard to climb out of.

I find myself wondering about the lack of engagement with my writing. I tag others and hear no response. I try to support others when tagged, yet often feel like I’m shouting into the void when I press Publish.

Before I sink too deep into this whirlpool of self-doubt, I pause and take a cue from The Reset Mindset by Penny Zenker, a book that has been a lifeline for me recently. The concept of resetting resonates deeply. It’s about an intentional pause—a mindful shift in perspective to open the door to new possibilities. Resetting means revisiting your core purpose and recalibrating your moves with intention.

So here, in this moment of doubt, I reset.

Why do I write? It’s not for stats, clicks, or reposts. It’s for connection. Writing is my bridge—to myself, to others, and to meaning. It’s a way to foster belonging, to reflect, and to find resonance with others navigating the lonely and challenging paths of leadership.

When I embrace this reset mindset, I remember: this moment of doubt is just that—a moment. It doesn’t define me or my work. My writing is not about chasing external validation; it’s about helping others seek meaning in their own leadership journeys. It’s about creating space for reflection and connection.

I remind myself of the moments that truly matter: the time a struggling reader reached out with gratitude after finding solace in my book. The fulfillment of a lifelong dream in publishing a book, The Pepper Effect. The joy of being invited to speak at upcoming conferences like FETC and the North Carolina Middle School Matters Conference. These are the moments that validate my voice and purpose.

And then, as I often do, I think of The Beatles.

In December 1961, before Beatlemania, before sold-out arenas and screaming fans, The Beatles played a gig at the Palais Ballroom in Aldershot. A booking error left the show poorly promoted, and only 18 people attended. Imagine it: the band that would change the world, performing in near obscurity.

But they didn’t let it break them. They played on, laughing and joking through the set, treating it as an opportunity rather than a failure. That moment was just one small chapter in their story—a necessary step on the path to greatness.

Failures happen. We stumble. We fall. And yet, like The Beatles, we get back up and keep playing.

As I stand in my own empty room—whether as a writer or a leader—I hold fast to my purpose. We all must. The value of our voice, our vision, isn’t determined by the size of the audience. It’s found in the connection with that one reader, that one listener, that one colleague who sees and understands your purpose.

When you play to empty rooms, remember: it’s not the end. It’s a pit stop—a chance to hone your craft, to reset, and to move forward.

Someone out there needs your voice. Someone out there is better because of your vision. Take heart in the small moments of connection and press on.

Each moment—success or setback—is a step forward in this journey of leadership and perseverance. Let’s keep playing.

Magical Mystery Tweet: A Journey of Gratitude and Creativity

Boxing Day holds a special place in my heart. While it’s not widely celebrated in the United States, it marks a moment of reflection, creativity, and gratitude in my life. It’s a day that intertwines two of my great passions: my love of The Beatles and the power of small, intentional moves that ripple into something greater.

On December 26, 1967, The Beatles unveiled their BBC-TV film Magical Mystery Tour. At the time, critics dismissed the project as an odd misstep in the band’s otherwise stellar career. Yet, over the decades, it has transformed into a beloved piece of their psychedelic era—a testament to their willingness to embrace creativity and collaboration, undeterred by the opinions of naysayers.

This day also marks what I call my “Magical Mystery Tweet,” a small action that changed the course of my life. About eight years ago, while observing my personal Boxing Day tradition of watching Magical Mystery Tour, I posted a simple tweet:

“Happy Boxing Day. Happy Magical Mystery Tour Day.”

I included a picture of my well-loved DVD copy of the film, celebrating my fandom and connection to the enduring magic of The Beatles. It was a small, seemingly inconsequential act of sharing.

But something extraordinary happened. Nicole Michael of 910 Public Relations noticed that tweet and responded to it. That response ignited a journey that ultimately led to the publication of my first book, #ThePepperEffect, through the incredible vision of Dave Burgess. What began as a casual celebration of The Beatles evolved into an opportunity to share my ideas with educators worldwide.

Since its release in 2018, #ThePepperEffect has inspired educators to “think outside the box” and create collaborative, Beatles-inspired magic in their schools. I’ve had the honor of sharing its message as a keynote speaker at conferences and have even seen it adapted into a stage production by a school drama club in Canada. One small tweet sparked a movement that continues to connect, inspire, and transform.

This experience taught me a valuable lesson: you never know what impact your creative expression will have when you share it with the world. The Beatles, despite criticism, embraced their creative impulses, and their willingness to take risks gave us masterpieces that resonate across generations. We can do the same when we dare to share our gifts, no matter how small they may seem.

Four Actions to Embrace Creativity and Share Your Voice

  1. Celebrate Your Passions
    Honor the things that bring you joy and inspire you. Whether it’s music, art, or storytelling, your enthusiasm can spark connections and creativity in others.
  2. Take Small Steps
    Share a tweet, write a blog post, or create something that reflects your authentic self. It doesn’t have to be perfect—it just has to be real.
  3. Seek Collaboration
    The Beatles created their masterpieces through collaboration. Surround yourself with others who uplift and challenge you. Great things happen when we build together.
  4. Ignore the Critics
    Like Magical Mystery Tour, your work might not resonate with everyone at first. That’s okay. Stay true to your vision and trust in the process.

As educators and leaders, we have the power to inspire those around us through our creativity and vulnerability. We all have a masterpiece within us waiting to be shared. My journey, sparked by a single tweet, is proof that even the smallest action can create waves of change.

This Boxing Day, as I watch Magical Mystery Tour again, I’ll reflect on the gratitude I have for that tweet, for the connections it brought, and for the inspiration it continues to provide.

Dare to share your voice. You never know whose life you might change—including your own.