Still Learning: “People Come First” by Lauren Kaufman

Some blog posts arrive quietly.
Others land with weight and warmth.

When Lauren Kaufman’s latest post, People Come First, landed in my inbox, I paused before opening it. Not out of hesitation, but out of trust. I knew, just as I always do, that I would walk away feeling enriched. I would feel inspired. I would be nudged to be better in my own practice after reading her words.

That has been the gift of being a long time reader of Lauren’s work. It has also been the gift of friendship and thought partnership with Lauren.

You can read Lauren’s post here:
https://laurenmkaufman.com/2026/01/07/people-come-first/

Why This Post Is Worth Your Time

Lauren Kaufman is a district leader, a disciplined weekly blogger, and the author of the inspiring book The Leader Inside. She is also someone who writes from lived experience, not from a pedestal. Her posts are never about performance. They are about presence.

Her blog consistently shows up with clarity and heart. When her writing lands in my inbox, I know I will be enriched, inspired, and motivated. Lauren has a way of making her words resonate so deeply that you want to do better and be better.

In People Come First, she reflects on a poignant exchange with another human being. The moment is simple on the surface, yet profound in its implications. The post does not rush toward resolution. It does not offer a checklist or a framework. It invites the reader to slow down and sit with what it truly means to show up for someone else.

That restraint is precisely what makes it powerful.

Here’s the Core of What It Shows

At its heart, this post is about listening. Not listening as a leadership move or a strategic tool, but listening as an act of humanity.

As I continue to delve deeper into human-centered leadership, Lauren’s words echoed something I have been reflecting on myself. Sincere and deep listening is not an accessory to leadership. It is an entry point.

To listen well is to communicate worth.
To listen deeply is to make space.
To listen without fixing is to honor someone’s story.

Lauren reminds us that people do not need us to be impressive. They need us to be present.

What This Stirred in Me

Reading this post led me to reflect on how often leadership culture rewards speed over stillness. We are praised for having answers, for moving quickly, and for resolving things efficiently.

The leaders who have shaped me most were the ones who slowed the moment down. They listened without interruption. They stayed curious. They did not rush me toward clarity before I was ready. Lauren is one of those leaders for me and so many others.

Lauren’s post reinforced a truth I am still learning. Human centered leadership begins long before we speak. It begins in how we listen.

A Thought Partnership That Matters

Lauren is also my most frequent guest on my podcast, Leadership Liner Notes, and the unofficial executive producer of the show. Our conversations consistently ground me and stretch my thinking.

One of our most recent episodes was a co-hosted conversation celebrating and amplifying the work of Elizabeth Dampf, author of Am I Cut Out for This?. The episode explored self doubt, courage, and staying rooted in purpose.

You can listen to that episode here:
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/am-i-cut-out-for-this-featuring-elizabeth-dampf-and/id1438352351?i=1000722226286

A Question I’m Sitting With

What would change in our schools, our teams, and our systems if we treated listening not as a courtesy, but as a commitment?

This is why I remain a proud and engaged subscriber to Lauren’s blog. Her words do not shout. They resonate.

Today, I am still learning.

Hold On to Your People: A Note for School Leaders (and Myself)

They don’t tell you in principal school just how lonely this gig can be.

Sure, there’s training on instructional leadership, school law, strategic planning, and evaluation protocols. All important stuff. But no one pulls you aside and says, Hey, just so you know, this work will sometimes feel like you’re on an island. Even when you’re surrounded by people, it may feel like no one sees the real you.

This is something I’ve carried with me in all my years as a principal.

Maybe it’s the pace. Maybe it’s the weight of making sure every child is seen, every adult is supported, and every decision aligns with the mission. Or maybe it’s just that in the whirlwind of trying to show up for everyone else, I started to drift from those who know me best.

I’ve lost friends. Not from fights. Not from falling outs. Just from the slow fade that happens when the job becomes the only song you play. And I’m learning through therapy, reflection, and some long walks with myself that it doesn’t have to be that way.

This summer reminded me.

At the ISTE-ASCD Conference in San Antonio, I was surrounded by kindred spirits. Educators, innovators, and thought partners I’ve known for years through screens and conversations. We laughed. We shared. We learned together. But most importantly, I wasn’t “Principal Gaillard.” I was just Sean. The same Sean who loves vinyl records and The Beatles. The same Sean who shows up with a notepad full of scribbles and a heart full of ideas. That feeling of being seen and embraced without the title attached nourished something in me.

That same feeling showed up again in a different space at my cousin’s wedding in Michigan. No one was asking for school updates or strategic plans. I was simply a cousin. A brother. A nephew. A dad. A husband. I was known not because of what I do, but because of who I am. Nothing will beat the joyful moment of hitting the dance floor at the wedding repection with my wife and daughters.

Those moments sustained me. And they reminded me that who I am matters just as much as what I do. Maybe more.

So this post isn’t just a message for my fellow school leaders as we enter another school year. It’s a note to myself.

Don’t lose your people.

The ones who love you for your corny jokes. The ones who know your favorite song. The ones who don’t care about your school data but care deeply about your heart.

Leadership doesn’t have to be lonely. But we have to choose connection on purpose. That’s the work I’m trying to do. And if it helps, here are four small, doable moves I’m committing to this year. Maybe they’ll work for you too.


4 Moves to Stay Connected (That Even a Busy School Leader Can Do):

1. Send one text a week to a friend.
Not a long update. Just a quick check-in. Thinking of you. Hope you’re good. It takes less than a minute but can mean everything.

2. Put a standing “non-school” date on your calendar.
Maybe it’s coffee with a college friend once a month. Maybe it’s a walk with your partner every Thursday evening. Block the time like it’s a meeting. Because it is a meeting with the best parts of yourself.

3. Say “yes” to one invite.
Even when you’re tired. Even when the to-do list is yelling. If a friend invites you to dinner, a concert, a call—say yes. One yes can reconnect you to who you are outside of the principal’s office.

4. Name your people.
Make a list of 3 to 5 folks who know you beyond the job. Tape it to your desk. These are your people. When the days get heavy, look at those names. Then call one. Or just remember their laughter. That’s your reset button.


As this new school year begins, don’t forget the people who walk with you outside of the school walls. They’re the ones who keep your heart steady. They’re the ones who remind you that being just you is more than enough.

I’m holding onto my people this year.

Hold onto yours.