During this week of Thanksgiving, I am reflecting actively on the things I am grateful for this year. I am zoning in on those people who have filled my bucket with inspiration in meaningful ways. The last two years have been filled with intentional paths. I am intentionally focusing on inspiration for my self care. This approach benefits my well being. My PLN has been an oasis for inspiration and connection and belonging. I have been fortunate to develop authentic friendships beyond hashtags and GIFs with a select few.
There are two individuals who I want to honor in this space. I have been blessed with their friendship. Both have been mentioned here before and both have been guests on my podcast. This time, I want to share how both serve as beacons for human centeredness.
Meghan Lawson and Maria Galanis are humble voices in my PLN. They create space for belonging in the way they craft their content. Meghan writes a weekly blog that stirs the soul. Her Instagram is a pocket of joy. She shares inspiring words and pictures of her cats. She also shares the delight of friendships and learning communities. Maria posts beautiful reminders about cherishing family. She shares her love of Coldplay. She also celebrates those magical moments when she finds images of hearts in the wild.
Most importantly, both remind us what it means to be human centered. Their content is never about promoting themselves. They uplift our humanity in the joy they capture and share. Maria literally shares the images of hearts she discovers in her travels. Meghan shares the joy she feels when she amplifies the voices of others.
Human centeredness is not a buzz word. It is a mindset that our world needs more than ever. Especially in education. Too often we are buried in acronyms and staged icebreakers and meetings and data points. Human centeredness is the pause we take. It allows us to connect with others through a kind word. We also ask an authentic question and call out the good in the moment. We do not do it enough in our profession in my opinion. Human centeredness is the spark that ignites belonging. We sustain it when we lean into each other and take the time to help one another along the way.
The other day before Thanksgiving Break, I was passing out Little Debbie snack cakes. It was not a stunt for social media. It was an entry point to connect with the people I serve. I wanted to express gratitude. I wanted to listen and share a moment of joy face to face. I wanted to stand together as humans and bandmates.
This is the path I want to walk with intention. I want to offer a pathway for others to embrace human centeredness. I want to express gratitude for Meghan and Maria. They inspire me to live with greater presence and heart. I am grateful for our friendship.
Here is the simple truth that rises in my heart. People matter most. Moments matter most. Belonging matters most.
May we listen more than we speak. May we see one another fully and without agenda. May we choose connection over convenience. May we choose love over hurry. May we lift each other through small gestures that echo far beyond the moment.
When we lead from a place of human centeredness, we create rooms where others feel seen and valued. People feel safe to become who they are meant to be. We create communities where joy grows. We create teams that play like bands in perfect rhythm.
That is the work that lasts. That is the work that changes schools and lives.
Here is my invitation. Let us keep our hearts open. Let us reach across the divide with generosity and presence. Let us build something beautiful through the way we treat each other.
Human centeredness is not a strategy. It is a way of being.
This is a reflection for anyone who has ever stood in the in-between. The space where purpose meets uncertainty and the next chapter feels just out of reach. These are the moments that call for a leadership reset to pause, reflect, and begin again with renewed intention.
There is a strange stillness in the in-between. It is that quiet moment when one chapter fades but the next has not yet begun.
It is not regret. It is ache. The kind that comes from knowing you are at a crossroads. I have danced with failures and missed opportunities. I have wrestled with the silence that follows when you put your heart into something and it goes unseen. That silence has been my teacher.
I think often of those moments in music when an artist stood in their own in-between. When Miles Davis created Kind of Blue, he was leaving behind the familiar and stepping into something uncharted. He entered what is often called a liminal space, a threshold between what was and what could be. It was risky. It was uncertain. Yet from that space of transition came a timeless masterpiece that changed everything.
Or consider The Beatles during the Let It Be sessions. The band was fractured and weary. Yet in that fragile in-between space they still created moments of truth and beauty. They found the courage to keep recording even when it felt like the music had lost its way. Somehow, that honesty became the song that still echoes across time.
Liminal spaces are where the soul rewrites its melody. They are uncomfortable, but they are also sacred. They strip away titles, roles, and routines until only what is real remains.
What is real right now is that I still care. I still believe in people. I still believe in creativity, connection, and service. I still believe that words matter, even if no one reads them.
This is where the Leadership Reset comes alive. It is something I created and shared in a recent blog post. I was honored to share on a recent episode of the “Teachers on Fire Podcast” with Tim Cavey. It is a simple practice that can help any leader find rhythm again when the noise gets too loud or the silence feels too heavy.
1. Take a Breath (30 seconds) Close your eyes. Inhale slowly and say to yourself:
“I am still here.”
Exhale and say:
“I am enough.”
Do this three times. Feel your shoulders drop. Feel your pulse slow. You have just reclaimed your space in the moment.
2. Anchor in Gratitude (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 in a notebook or say it aloud. That is your leadership echo, a reminder that small actions still ripple outward.
3. Affirm and Reframe (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 those words live in your breath. You have just tuned your soul back to the right frequency.
4. Reconnect (30 seconds) Before moving on with your day, take one small action to reconnect:
Send a short message to a friend or colleague. Share a kind word with a student or staff member. Play a song that brings you joy.
These micro moments rebuild our leadership core from the inside out.
Maybe leadership is not about applause or spotlight moments. Maybe it is about keeping the song going when you cannot tell if anyone is listening.
So I will stay here for a while, between what was and what is next, trusting that this ache is not the end of the song but the bridge that leads to the next verse.
We are all in-between something. We are all tuning, listening, resetting. Wherever you are in your journey, may you find time to breathe, to notice, and to let your next melody emerge.
Every leader faces doubt. Every visionary faces resistance. This reflection is about how we can rise above the noise, stay true to our purpose, and keep creating even when others question our path.
There will always be naysayers.
There will always be you, the one who dares to believe, to dream, and to create.
There will always be naysayers who question your heart, doubt your intentions, and smile to your face while tearing you down in private. There will always be your resilience, your steady conviction, and your choice to rise above the noise.
There will always be naysayers who talk about you. There will be you talking about solutions.
That contrast defines courageous leadership. The world has its critics. You have your calling.
The Constant and the Choice
Naysayers are not going anywhere. They are constant. In that regard, our values, beliefs, and dreams must remain constant, too.
Every leader faces the weight of skepticism and the sting of doubt. Even though naysayers can disturb our peace and invade our thoughts, they also present an opportunity for us to show courage and grit.
Rocky Balboa once said, “It ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done.”
Naysayers are not obstacles. They are resistance training. Each criticism, whisper, or eye roll becomes a repetition in the workout of our resolve.
Lessons from The Beatles
In my book The Pepper Effect, one of the four leadership riffs inspired by Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band is Ignore the Naysayers.
The other three riffs are Believe in Your Vision, Believe in Your Masterpiece, and Believe in Your Collaborators. Each one reminds us that masterpieces are born from vision, teamwork, and purpose.
When The Beatles were creating the Sgt. Pepper album, they were told they were finished and that their best work was behind them. They tuned out the static and created an album that forever changed music.
Sometimes, we can even invite the naysayers to the table. They rarely show up. They are often too busy critiquing from the sidelines while we are in the studio doing the work.
Holding On to Worth
We must believe in our worth and know that our impact matters.
It is time to stop allowing naysayers to live rent free in our minds. It is time to stop subscribing to their questioning of our value.
Naysayers will follow us with jibes, insults, and ridicule, but they will never step into the arena with us. They will never feel the rush of creation, the joy of risk, or the satisfaction of impact.
A Personal Note
I have been plagued by naysayers, too. Their words once haunted me. They disrupted my focus and dulled my joy. I regret giving them permission to occupy my thoughts and lower my head.
That regret became a teacher. It reminded me to stand taller, to protect my energy, and to refocus on what truly matters: purpose, integrity, and love for the work.
The Encore
There will always be naysayers. There will always be you.
You are leading with heart. You are believing when others doubt. You are building while others tear down. You are staying in the arena while others remain in the cheap seats.
Keep leading. Keep creating. Keep believing.
The noise fades. The work remains. The song goes on.
How do you stay grounded when naysayers appear in your path? Share your reflection or story in the comments. Together, we can create a chorus of encouragement that reminds us to keep the music of leadership alive.
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.
A Collaborative Blog Post by Meghan Lawson & Sean Gaillard
Sean:
This post is a follow-up to our recent collaboration on Season 4 of The Bear. Meghan Lawson and I had such a great time thought-partnering and exploring leadership through the lens of this compelling show that we knew we had to keep the conversation going. When a story grabs your heart and your mind in equal measure, you follow it. For us, The Bear does just that.
We both love this show. We find ourselves returning to its characters, their struggles, their growth, and the environments they navigate because there are so many leadership lessons embedded in their journeys. These are not neat, polished takeaways. These are messy, raw, and very real moments that mirror the work we do in schools and systems every day.
One of the most moving scenes from Season Two is found in Episode Seven, “Forks.” It’s a moment where Richie, played with heart and grit by recent Emmy nominee Ebon Moss-Bachrach, has just completed a transformative stage at a fine dining restaurant. He wanders into the kitchen, reflecting, observing, absorbing. There, he finds Chef Terry, portrayed with quiet power by Olivia Colman, delicately peeling mushrooms.
They exchange a short but unforgettable conversation.
Richie asks, “Why do you do this?” Terry replies, “Respect.”
That single word hangs in the air—soft yet commanding. It lands like a truth bomb.
Richie follows up, “Time well spent. That’s what it’s all about?” Terry responds, “Yeah, I think so.”
As she steps away, she shares a simple, affirming note: Carmy, Richie’s current boss, told her that Richie was good with people.
That moment is not loud. It is not filled with urgency or ego. It is filled with presence, affirmation, and intentionality. Those are the moments worth striving for as a leader.
I love those quiet moments when I’m walking the hallways and visiting classrooms in the school I serve. These are the quiet moments that reflect the glow of a child who feels that sense of belonging. It is the knowing glance from a teacher when I see them in action with a teachable moment. Those are the moments which sustain and carry me on the days when I may be bereft of energy or I have forgotten my leadership purpose.
You go in quest of those moments that echo your purpose as a leader and resonate in impact that ignites the good for others. That makes the whole gig worthwhile.
Over the years, school leadership has sometimes been mistaken for performance art—standing on tables, performing viral-worthy stunts, orchestrating social media optics. While there’s a place for fun, it should never be contrived. Leadership is not about applause. It’s about authenticity.
The “Forks” episode plays like a compelling work of art. It simmers and marinates with beautifully-wrought simplicity. And in that quiet simplicity, we’re reminded: respect isn’t loud. It’s intentional.
And there it is—one leadership lesson.
Meghan:
Sean has so beautifully captured this story, and I’m so glad he mentions it because it is indeed one of my favorite moments from the show.
My husband works in college basketball, and a while back, I wrote a blog post titled, Painting Ladders. It was about how I learned from him that every little detail matters, and none of us are above contributing to those little details.
There was a season when his team won their conference. We all know the tradition: players climb the ladder to cut down the net. That moment is symbolic, beautiful, and hard-earned.
But before the moment, there was the ladder.
The team’s ladder was yellow—not one of the school’s colors. My husband didn’t complain or delegate. He went out, bought navy paint, and stayed up until midnight painting it. No announcement. No credit. He just did it.
Because it mattered. Because of respect.
I try to carry that lesson with me into schools. No job is below me. No detail is too small. It’s about honoring the work and the people who do it. It’s about the culture we’re building—one choice at a time.
“Every second counts” is a phrase repeated throughout The Bear. It’s even emblazoned on the kitchen wall. But this scene reminds us: it doesn’t mean hustle until you break. It means something deeper. Every second is an opportunity to honor your work, your people, and the space you share.
Leadership isn’t just pushing for results. It’s about presence. Listening. Quietly showing someone they matter.
Terry is peeling mushrooms. Richie is paying attention. A few words are exchanged. A leader is affirmed. A purpose is clarified.
That is leadership.
I believe these kinds of moments shape culture. Hallway conversations. Check-ins after a tough day. The unseen prep done with care. The fork that gets polished when no one is watching.
I remember when I first became a building principal. I had dreams of grand gestures for staff, but I was serving over 700 students PK–5 with no assistant principal or counselor. The grand ideas gave way to meaningful ones: showing up in classrooms, learning kids’ names (first, last, and middle), greeting students at the door, cleaning fingernails, brushing hair, riding the bus.
That’s where the culture was built.
There are no small moments in a school.
So, here’s to peeling mushrooms. Here’s to painting ladders. Here’s to time well spent, quiet presence, and respect that shows up without a microphone.
Every second really does count.
Let’s keep leading like it matters. Because it does.
Four Actionable Leadership Moves:
Lead with Presence, Not Performance Show up consistently, not for the spotlight, but for the people. Leadership is built in everyday interactions, not staged moments.
Honor the Small Details From a clean classroom to a student’s confidence boost, the smallest touches reflect the greatest respect. Don’t underestimate their impact.
Practice Intentional Affirmation Just like Terry affirmed Richie, leaders should look for genuine moments to recognize others. Quiet encouragement often speaks the loudest.
Be Willing to Paint the Ladder Do the behind-the-scenes work. Fix the overlooked things. Whether anyone notices or not, that’s how you show respect for the team and the mission.
Let’s keep polishing forks and painting ladders. Leadership lives in the quiet corners.
A collaborative reflection by Meghan Lawson & Sean Gaillard on leadership, belonging, and bright spots inspired by Season 4 of The Bear
Special Note: Big thanks to my good friend, Meghan Lawson, for collaboration and thought partnership on this joint blog post! Meghan is a dream to collaborate with and I am honored that we joined writing forces on this shared piece. Thank you, Chef!
Lessons from Season 4 of The Bear
So, if you haven’t watched, SPOILER ALERT.
I told my good friend, Sean Gaillard, this week that his friendship not only makes me a better leader, it helps me to listen more deeply and appreciate more fully. This includes music which won’t surprise those of you who know Sean. Over the past couple of years, Sean and I have bonded over our love of the show, The Bear, a show filled with beautiful messy people who love imperfectly but love deeply. We cannot help but see many connections to education and hope you enjoy our six lessons from season 4 below.
Meghan 1: Less is More
Prior to this season, Carmy wanted to put out a new menu every day. He claimed to have many reasons for this. Fresh ingredients, novelty, the possibility of a Michilin star, but this proved to be both taxing on his team and expensive and unsustainable long-term. If The Bear wanted to stay in business, they would have to simplify. They would have to do less well. So, they started to minimize ingredients, focused on making simplified but exquisite meals consistently, and they worked to optimize the customer experience. As a result, things start to turn around for their restaurant.
I couldn’t help but see the inevitable parallel between this restaurant story and our work in schools. Too often, well-intentioned educational leaders learn of the latest and greatest in education and push those initiatives out to the staff in the hopes that this will be the year that they reach their school goals and see swift improvements in their data. We all know how the story ends. Some teachers burnout and others become disengaged figuring that “this too shall pass” so why bother with some of these “flavor of the month” strategies.
There is such a thing as too much of a good thing. When I need reminding of this, life humbles me with little missteps. I’ve put too much salt on my food to the point it’s become inedible. I’ve used too much blush or too much hair product and spent the day looking like a Broadway stage wannabe. And I’ve tried to do too much at one time with my team and had it backfire. So, I’m not writing this as some leadership expert. I’m writing this as someone who seems to learn lessons over and over again and only one way: the hard way.
We’ve been working on growing the capacity of our building leadership teams in my school district. I presented a plan for the work to principals for feedback in the spring. Then, when the hustle of the school year subsided, and we shifted gears to summer planning and learning, after digging into some learning together, it was clear. Parts of my plan were too much, and we needed to pivot. So, we did.
And this is why you need to listen to and trust your team.
Meghan 2: You Need a Team More than You Think
I read something powerful. I believe I found it in The Culture Code by Daniel Coyle. Essentially, in a study of teams, the team of high achievers who didn’t work closely together did not perform as well as the average performers on a high-functioning team. In The Bear, members of the team fully embrace their special role on the team. Ebraheim focuses on The Beef sandwich shop where it all started for this family owned restaurant. Turns out, this simple sandwich window is single-handedly keeping The Bear afloat. Syd focuses on her scallops. Tina (man, I just love her) focuses on making her pasta dish in under 3 minutes. Marcus focuses on being the best pastry chef he can be and even earns recognition in Food & Wine magazine. Richie, perhaps my favorite character, focuses on service. Nat on finances. They all do their part and do it well, and when another person is in some kind of trouble, they offer to help. They are in constant communication throughout the night. They have to be. They have to know when someone is walking behind them or when someone has a hot plate in their hands and or how much time remains before service. As they say, “Every Second Counts.” For the most part, they all have enough basic knowledge required to execute on various basic functions of the restaurants as needed. But they don’t have to do it all.
And yet, here we are. Often expecting ourselves to be the master of all things in our classrooms and schools. We want to be able to do it all and do it all at a high level. But what if we shifted our energy to identify how to leverage the strengths of our team? It’s not that we aren’t going to meet and won’t be collaborating. The Bear has a team meeting every day as do most restaurants. Some even break bread together before they begin service. But are we being strategic about the way we utilize the gifts of our teammates in a way that is equitable and advances our mission? I’m not a whiz at spreadsheets, but I know how to facilitate a meeting that moves us from point A to point B and ensures equity of voice. Can I learn how to be better at spreadsheet work? Sure, I can. We are all learners. Learning is our business. Is becoming a spreadsheet master, something I hate by the way, the best use of my time and energy when I have teammates who thrive in spreadsheets? Probably not. Planning an impactful meeting, using those sheets, gives me energy and is also needed.
Meghan 3: You Are Not Your Job
Throughout this season of The Bear, it’s clear that Carmy is having an existential crisis. He’s spent his adult life hyper-focused on his work. So much so, that this work became all he knew of the world and himself. For those of us, myself included, with childhood and adult trauma, this is a coping mechanism that I know all too well. It’s easier to compartmentalize the hard stuff and throw ourselves fully into our work than it is to confront painful realities. Natalie forces Carmy to hold her baby for a moment. He’s meeting her baby for the first time, and you can tell he is uncomfortable holding the baby at first but with time, he eases into it and himself in the moment with her. There’s a split second where Richie catches a glimpse of them, uncle and niece together, and smiles to himself realizing how special this moment truly is for Carmy. Carmy has countless moments of awakening outside of the kitchen this season and explains in the final season that he doesn’t know who he is outside of the kitchen.
I love our profession. I believe deeply in the work we do. And I worry about us. For too many of us, myself included, we’ve centered our lives and identities on success in education. I worry about this so much that I wrote about it in Legacy of Learning, “You are giving others the strength to move forward, the strength to believe in themselves, the strength to try to make this world a better place. Knowing this makes being an educator so meaningful. But we don’t have to suffer while we make this kind of impact. In fact, the more we can live well and be well, the more our impact will grow.”
If our well-being and self-esteem is solely predicated on how well we are believe we are performing in our work, that is a very fragile ecosystem. We don’t have to earn love or earn self-worth. We already have it. Everything we have is everything we need. So, let’s start paying attention to how we talk to ourselves. Let’s talk to ourselves like we talk to people we love. The most important work is the work we do on ourselves. Everything else is secondary.
Sean: Collaborating with Meghan Lawson is always a bright spot. Her lens on leadership sharpens mine. What’s even better is that her friendship always makes be better. Her reflections on The Bear Season 4 kick open the door for all of us to pause, reflect, and notice the extraordinary in the everyday. I’m grateful to add to this conversation not just as a fan of the show, but as a school leader who believes deeply in the power of culture, connection, and care just as Meghan exemplifies.
This summer, Meghan and I had the chance to hear Dan Heath speak live at the ISTE + ASCD Annual Conference in San Antonio. His keynote, inspired by his book Reset: How To Change What’s Not Working, challenged us to “study the bright spots.” His words weren’t just memorable; they were actionable. That idea has stayed with me, echoing in my heart and practice.
Bright spots can be found in great TV, too. And The Bear is brimming with them—tiny, powerful moments that show what leadership, belonging, and humanity look like under pressure. Here are a few that have stuck with me and how they’ve nudged me to lead better:
Sean: 1. The Art of Delight
In one of the standout scenes, Richie makes sure a guest gets an authentic Chicago Beef sandwich. That alone would’ve been enough. But then? The restaurant team makes it snow. A surprise. A moment of joy. An act of intentional delight.
Great leaders do the same. They listen for delight opportunities. They tune into what others need even if they don’t say it out loud. Delight isn’t about flashy gestures; it’s about showing people they matter.
For me, this takes the form of Positive Principal Phone Calls Home. I call families not because something went wrong—but because something went right. A student showed kindness. A kid made growth. A teacher created magic. It’s the equivalent of snow falling indoors. And it always lands.
Sean: 2. You Are Never Alone
Carmy, fractured and guarded, prepares lunch for his estranged mother. Syd chooses to show up for Richie even though the wedding they’re attending is for his ex-wife. These moments speak volumes. In the kitchen or in the chaos, someone chooses to be there.
Leadership, at its best, is presence. Not performance.
On a recent flight home, I noticed a fellow passenger battling flight anxiety. No fanfare. Just a quiet offer to talk, sit, and be. We shared the journey—sky and fear alike. That moment reminded me of school. We often say the principal’s office can be a lonely place. But it doesn’t have to be. Leaders must extend that reminder: you are not alone to students, staff, and families. And sometimes, to ourselves.
Sean: 3. Belonging Matters
There’s a powerful scene where Richie’s daughter is too afraid to dance at a wedding. What do the adults do? They crawl under the table and share their own fears. It’s tender, honest, and unforgettable.
Leadership is often loud. But sometimes, it’s quiet courage: the willingness to go under the table with someone else’s fear and stay there with them until they’re ready to rise.
This summer, I wrote handwritten letters to my staff. Simple notes of gratitude and anticipation. No big speech. Just connection. It’s how belonging begins by saying: I see you. I’m glad you’re here. I can’t wait for what’s ahead.
The Bear isn’t just entertainment. It’s a mirror. A reminder. A bright spot. And as we get ready for a new school year, there’s no better time to slow down, reflect, and carry these lessons into our leadership.
-Here’s to delight. -Here’s to presence. – Here’s to belonging. – Here’s to the bright spots.
“The waiting is the hardest part.”-Tom Petty (1981)
As I continue my sojourn in Maine, I gaze upon the lake on another cool summer morning. A warm cup of coffee is my company along with the occasional sparkles smiling at me on the water and a lone loon swimming alongside this morning reverie in the distance.
There’s a certain kind of silence that settles in when your waiting. It’s not always peaceful. It’s filled with hope, doubt, questions, and whispers of “what if.” That’s where I have been reflecting upon lately. There is an art to waiting that leaders must take hold of and learn to appreciate. Many look to us as a lamppost on a dark, foggy night. It is important that we make that the light we carry within, our leadership core, is intact, balanced, and focused.
The Struggle of Waiting
It is important to acknowledge the truth. Waiting is frustrating. It is excruciating into its life span and sometimes I allow negative moments to roam rent free in my head. I try to cope with waiting by cueing up familiar songs to carry me through the anxiety of waiting: “The Waiting” by Tom Petty, “Tired of Waiting for You” by The Kinks, or “I Am Waiting” by The Rolling Stones (a great deep cut by them from my favorite album of theirs, “Aftermath.”) Speaking of the Stones, I even imagine myself in their classic “Waiting on a Friend” video hanging out on the stoop with Mick Jagger looking for Keith Richards. Yet, the bottom line remains for me that waiting is just plain hard.
As leaders, we are wired to take action, make moves, plan next steps. We calculate, strategize, and analyze. There is urgency in the air that needs our focus and we called to act. The clock is ticking, people need decisions, and our vision and mission to serve our school community must be maintain momentum.
Sometimes the most important growth most important growth happens when nothing appears to be happening. For leaders, waiting can feel like failure. It can compel us to embrace the abysmal and tune into second-guesses and should haves. But in this stillness, I’m learning that not moving doesn’t mean not growing.
Waiting is an opportunity.
A Leadership Riff in the Shadows: George’s Quiet Resilience
George Harrison waited. He always did. Whether it was waiting for his guitar solo cue during the early days of The Beatles or waiting for spiritual enlightenment during his pursuit of Transcendental Meditation, George simply waited. He endured a long journey to have his voice and songs recognized within The Beatles. He waited in the shadow of the successful and thriving shadow of the Lennon-McCartney songwriting partnership for years. He watched song after song of his get passed over. But instead of giving up and surrendering to doubt, he kept writing. Occasionally, a song would be accepted and many of his songs in The Beatles still resonate today like “Something,” “While My Guitar Gently Weeps,” and “Here Comes The Sun.”
When the time finally came, George Harrison released the epic-three album, “All Things Must Pass.” This was an album of such depth, resonance, and majesty that it proved to the waiting wasn’t a waste; rather, it was a gathering. That gathering included an all-star line up musicians ranging from former bandmate, Ringo Starr, to Eric Clapton, Klaus Voorman, and all members of Badfinger. Phil Spector co-produced and served the album up with the Wall of Sound. It was filled with songs that The Beatles had rejected and hits that still spin today like “My Sweet Lord” and “What Is Life.”
George Harrison proved that waiting does not have to yield in an abrupt ending. Waiting can compel something beautiful to happen.
Leadership Wait Time
Waiting is a leadership discipline. It can take years to cultivate and nuance for one’s own leadership practice. Waiting teaches us patience, humility, faith, and emotional agility. In the classroom, teachers use “wait time” as a move to create space for students to pause, think, and reflect. It is an intentional pause that is meant to create belonging for students who may feel bashful at responding or to set the stage for a teachable moment to resonate within the classroom.
Leaders have wait time, too. The waiting room is where character gets built. It’s where we learn to lead without control, to listen instead of speak, to reflect instead of react.
As leaders, we have to cultivate space for waiting to ignite reflection. We have to give permission for ourselves to roam into that space to discover new things within ourselves and the people we serve.
This is not always easy and it can be ponderous. I reflect upon the moments of when I am challenged to wait as a leader and as an individual. Within the frustration of the moments of endless waiting, I have sometimes missed those opportunities for reflection and positivity. It’s easy to default to damning doubts and shifting the blame to some universe conspiring against me. Waiting does not have to be negative. We have to shift the paradigm on waiting to something akin to opportunity.
Brene Brown expressed this best for leaders, “Patience is not about waiting. It’s about how we behave while we’re waiting.” This is where we must be very cognizant of how we respond and move during our leadership wait time. We model the expectations and set the tone in our moves. Many look us to be that solid beacon of calm during any level of wait time and it’s important that we lead with grace, poise, and purpose during a leadership wait time.
Waiting can be a pressure cooker for leaders, but it’s important to maintain our core during those ponderous wait times.
There may have been pressure to fill a vacancy quickly whether it was for a teacher, assistant principal, or support staff member. But instead of rushing, you held out for the right fit. You waited, trusted your instincts, and stayed aligned with your school’s mission and values. And when that person arrived, it was clear they were the one. They didn’t just fill a role; they elevated the culture, built trust, and made a lasting impact on students and staff.
That moment, that hire validated the wait. The right choice often takes time.
A Quiet Riff to Carry Forward
Waiting is not weakness. It’s part of the journey. The silence we endure on a decision to be made or an action to occur is not empty. The silence may be an opportunity for you to compose a new song you don’t yet hear. I think of a time during my first principalship when our school was waiting for the outcome of our magnet grant application. The waiting was far-reaching and I remember checking my inbox every day several minutes at a time. This lasted for months and it was not pleasant. The waiting period did bring the faculty closer together as we shared this collective anticipation.
Looking back, it was the waiting that not only bonded us but it helped us persevere when we found out that we didn’t get the grant. The community that was forged during this period lead our school to being the first in the district to successfully implement a non-funded magnet. We had a positive impact on kids and achievement due to the community that was forged during the waiting game.
The truth is, we don’t always get to fast-forward through uncertainty. But we do get to keep showing up with grace, grit, and belief. You can use waiting as an opportunity to model resilience, reflection, and connection with others. And that’s the kind of leadership I want to grow in, one quiet step at a time.
Three Action Steps to Make Waiting More Meaningful for Your Leadership
1. Seek Out Thought Partners
Waiting doesn’t have to be lonely. Use the pause to deepen your leadership bench. Reach out to a mentor, a colleague, or someone who inspires you. Take a spin within your Professional Learning Network (PLN) to seek those people out who can inspire and support you. Share your thoughts and listen to theirs. Thought partnership sharpens perspective, calms uncertainty, and reminds you that you’re not navigating the unknown alone. Collaboration during the waiting season often leads to renewed clarity and creative momentum.
2. Study Leadership Riffs from History
Waiting has shaped some of the most significant leaders and movements in history. Lincoln waited through agonizing losses before the tide turned. Mandela waited in a prison cell for 27 years before transforming a nation. Singer-songwriter Carole King waited years to emerge as a solo artist and record her multi-platinum selling masterpiece, Tapestry. Even The Beatles waited through setbacks and missteps before crafting Sgt. Pepper. Explore these stories not just for inspiration, but as evidence that purpose-driven delay can lead to extraordinary outcomes.
3. Use the Quiet to Bring Your People Closer
While the external outcome is pending, focus inward. Use this time to connect more deeply with your team. Hold space for listening. Celebrate small wins. Reaffirm your shared mission. Leadership isn’t just about making decisions, it’s about fostering belonging. Waiting offers a powerful window to strengthen community, build trust, and ensure your team feels seen and valued.
The Summer Series of The Principal Liner Notes Podcast continues with an inspiring and heartfelt conversation featuring Dr. Sonia Matthew, the 2025 Maryland Assistant Principal of the Year.
Dr. Matthew brings deep insight, clarity, and joy to this conversation. We explore the essential role of the assistant principal and the importance of school leaders being intentional about mentoring and empowering their APs. Our discussion was more than a reflection, it was a call to action. As principals, we are called to create space for leadership to grow and thrive at every level.
One of my favorite moments in this episode is the mention by Sonia of Lauren Kaufman and her amazing book, The Leader Inside. As many of you know, Lauren is a frequent guest on my podcast. Her book is a great resource for mentorship and inspiration that is worthwhile for several revisitations. The impact of the book on Sonia is definitely compelling and you will get an opportunity to experience that impact in this episode.
What you’ll also hear in this episode is just the beginning. Dr. Matthew and I are already planting seeds for a new collaboration that will shine a spotlight on the assistant principalship and provide meaningful support and coaching resources for those who serve in that vital role.
Listen and join us in this reflection on purpose, leadership, and the power of lifting each other up. I would love to hear your comments on this episode. Please feel free to share here or on one of the podcast platforms shared here.
I’m excited to share that Principal Liner Notes now has a new home on the web: 🎶 seangaillard.com 🎶
This new site is where you can find all of my blog posts, reflections, podcast updates, and more. You’ll also be the first to hear a big announcement (or two) coming soon—things I’m really excited about and can’t wait to share.
To those who have followed, subscribed, shared, or just quietly read along—thank you. Your support fuels the creative spark and reminds me that this journey matters.
Please take a moment to subscribe at seangaillard.com and share it with a friend or fellow educator. I hope it continues to be a place of inspiration, connection, and purpose.
Today also marks the anniversary of an album that changed the world—Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. That album didn’t just change music, it changed my life. It lit the fire that led to my first book, The Pepper Effect, a celebration of belief, collaboration, and educational leadership.
Leadership Liner Notes: Sean Gaillard 