School Leadership

Rediscovering the Heart of Leadership: A Call for a Human Centered Renaissance

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The other day, I had the privilege of speaking with a former superintendent from the early days of my principalship in Winston-Salem. It was one of those conversations that stays with you long after it ends. I felt deeply grateful for her wisdom, for the lessons she shared years ago, and for the way she continues to lead with humility and care.

At one point, our conversation turned to belonging. We did not speak of it as a buzzword or a program. We spoke of it as a fundamental human need in schools and in leadership. That moment mattered. It affirmed something that has been awakening in me over the past year and a half, a journey that began after my heart episode and has been deepened through therapy, reflection, and honest reckoning with myself. That conversation did not begin this journey, but it reignited it. It reminded me that leadership, at its best, is rooted in humanity.

That conversation also made something painfully clear.

The leadership we are currently celebrating in too many spaces is missing the mark.

Many systems have become overly reliant on noise, metrics, programs, and performance. Visibility is often mistaken for value. Activity is often mistaken for impact. Standing on tables, creating a staged video, or chasing what is trending is frequently confused with leadership. In the process, we are losing sight of what actually sustains schools and the people inside them.

A line from Dr. Donya Ball has been echoing in my mind ever since that conversation: “One of the biggest leadership turn offs is the leader who chases public recognition instead of private excellence.”

That distinction matters now more than ever.

Private excellence is where real leadership lives. It lives in quiet conversations. It lives in trust built over time. It lives in making people feel seen, heard, and valued when no one is watching. That is where belonging is cultivated, not performed. I am grateful for the inspiring words and thought partnership of Dr. Donya Ball. She is definitely a worthwhile addition to any Professional Learning Network.

Greater care is also required in choosing the voices we amplify. Many voices offer quick solutions and so-called fixes to deeply complex problems of practice. Some of those voices have not been in a classroom or schoolhouse doing the work in years. Others sell packaged answers designed more for self promotion than service. Discernment matters, because what we consume shapes what we believe leadership is supposed to look like.

There are sincere voices doing this work with integrity. These are leaders who stay close to schools, who listen more than they sell, and who center belonging over branding. That sincerity feels harder to find than it once was, which makes intentional discernment even more important.

The voices worth seeking are those that foster belonging, courage, and empowerment. They honor the complexity of schools. They understand that innovation does not come in a package and that transformation cannot be rushed.

This moment calls for a return to something more human. It calls for leadership that is analog in spirit and rooted in connection rather than consumption.

I often think about The Beatles performing Hey Jude on the David Frost Show in 1968. As the song reached its closing chorus, the band invited a diverse group of audience members to gather around them. Everyone sang together. There was no hierarchy in that moment and no spotlight chasing. There was shared humanity in action. Everyone had a place in the song.

That image offers a powerful metaphor for the leadership we need now.

Belonging is not an accessory to leadership. Belonging is the entry point. It is the foundation that allows people to take risks, grow, and contribute their gifts. My father used to say, “Everybody starts, everybody plays.” That belief has never felt more urgent.

Schools are facing real challenges. Budgets are shrinking. Demands are increasing. Pipelines into teaching and leadership are fragile. Burnout is widespread and cannot be resolved through another initiative or an unfunded mandate. This is not the moment to double down on outdated leadership playbooks.

There is still reason for hope. Educators continue to make a profound difference in the lives of others. This moment invites leaders to pause and reflect. It encourages them to reimagine how school communities are served in ways that are sustainable, affirming, and deeply human. We need to change the conversation on what it means to lead in schools. We must invite everyone to the table for this much-needed crucial conversation.

A few places offer meaningful starting points:

-Leaders can create intentional space for reflection in daily practice. They should treat it as a priority rather than an add on.
-Leaders can commit to real conversations that center around listening and learning.
-Leaders can commit to building belonging first, knowing everything else grows from that foundation.

School leadership is overdue for a renaissance. That renaissance must be rooted in presence, humility, and courage. When leaders dare to lead from the heart and make belonging the work, leadership can once again be reclaimed as a human act rather than a spectacle.

Author’s Note

This piece was written as an invitation rather than an indictment. It reflects a personal and professional awakening shaped by lived experience, reflection, and honest conversations about what leadership demands in this moment. The hope is that it encourages thoughtful pause, renewed discernment, and a recommitment to leadership grounded in humanity.

Leadership Echoes: Small Moments, Big Legacy

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A Lesson from Administrator School

During my days in “administrator school,” I was fortunate to have our superintendent, where I was employed as a teacher, instruct one of our courses. The course was Strategic Planning, and I gained much wisdom from his years as a seasoned district leader. The class happened to land on the final day of the semester for our cohort. Looking back, it was a meaningful milestone as it marked the last class on the last day of my entire Master’s in School Administration program.

A moment from that day has stayed with me throughout my career. At the time, I did not realize how deeply it would echo through my leadership journey.

A Moment That Still Resonates

We were wrapping up the final review before exams when our superintendent began to share parting wisdom. I do not know what moved him to do so, but his reflections were powerful. He began to riff on lessons from his own career, weaving together aphorisms, stories, and insights.

Then came the moment I will never forget. He said, “Remember those conversations you had about your principal or even about me after a faculty meeting? Remember those meetings after the meetings where you shared your thoughts about leadership decisions? Maybe you complained and maybe you didn’t. Well, someday soon, you will be the topic of those conversations in the parking lot. How will you respond to that?”

He paused and looked at each of us. The room fell silent. We all sat in the weight of his words.

At the time, those words felt heavy and unsettling. Over the years, I have come to understand their profound truth about leadership and influence.

The Power of the Leadership Echo

All leaders have what I call a leadership echo. This is the way our tone, actions, empathy, and integrity ripple beyond our presence. It is the resonance of the legacy we create for others. Each of us has a leadership echo, and we are the composers of the melody it leaves behind.

Music and the Subtle Notes That Stay

As a lifelong music fan, I am always drawn to the small details in a song that stay with you. One of my favorite moments in music is the bridge of “Here Comes the Sun” by The Beatles. The sequence of handclaps adds a percussive joy that lingers long after the song ends.

Leadership works the same way. The small, intentional acts: kind word, a listening ear, a thoughtful pause before reacting—create lasting harmony. They resonate across classrooms and communities.

I still remember the high five I received from my principal after he observed my American Literature class. I was teaching “Richard Cory” and playing Simon and Garfunkel’s musical version. That simple gesture not only encouraged me, but I could see my students respond to it, too. It was a cool moment, one that continues to echo for me.

Echoes in Action

Leadership echoes take many forms. A leader checking in on a struggling teacher. A principal celebrating small wins during a tough week. A colleague modeling grace under pressure. A teacher calling home to share a moment of student success.

These gestures may seem small, but they often become the stories others tell later. When we amplify these positive echoes, they build the shared culture that defines our schools.

Hearing the Unflattering Echo

Sometimes, the echoes we hear are not flattering. Thinking back to what my superintendent said that day, leaders will always be the subject of conversation. Those conversations are sometimes positive and sometimes not.

As leaders, we must approach those moments with reflection, not fear. Even when the echo is critical, it can still reveal purpose and integrity. I recently reviewed survey data about my leadership. Some of it stung, but I chose to use it as a mirror for growth rather than a judgment.

Listening to your leadership echo takes humility and curiosity. It is an opportunity to grow, not to defend.

Three Ways to Strengthen Your Leadership Echo

Here are three reflective strategies for tuning your leadership echo into a source of growth and impact:

  1. Tune Your Tone:
    Pause before responding. Speak as if your words might echo in someone’s memory tomorrow.
  2. Play Small Notes Loud:
    Celebrate micro moments with either a handwritten note, a hallway check-in, or a quick “thank you.” Small gestures can carry great resonance.
  3. Listen for Resonance:
    Ask for feedback, reflect often, and be open to what comes back, even when it is uncomfortable.

The Last Chord

Just like the handclaps in “Here Comes the Sun,” your leadership will ring on long after you have turned the page to a new chapter. Think of the final chord in “A Day in the Life” by The Beatles. It sustains, fades, and lingers with an unforgettable sound that carries on long after the needle travels off the record.

Leadership is the same way. The decisions we make, the tone we set, and the kindness we extend all continue to reverberate through others long after we leave the room. Every word, action, and choice becomes part of our echo.

Each of us has the power to shape what that echo sounds like. We can choose to create an echo that uplifts, inspires, and builds others. The more we lead with intention, empathy, and grace, the more beautiful that resonance becomes.

My father often reminded me to lead with humility and to hold my head high. His words, much like that chord in “A Day in the Life,” continue to echo in my life and in my leadership.

May your echo be one of kindness, courage, and grace. May it be the kind that reminds others of the good they carry within. And may it continue to resonate long after the music fades.

One More Thing

This reflection is part of my ongoing Leadership Liner Notes blog, where I explore the harmony between music and leadership. The idea of the leadership echo reminds me that every interaction carries a note of influence, just like every chord in a great song contributes to the melody.

As I continue to write and learn, I’m inspired by the small moments that form the soundtrack of leadership. Every conversation, every decision, and every high five in the hallway becomes part of the echo we leave behind.

If this reflection resonates with you, share your own leadership echo story on social media using #LeadershipRiffs and #LeadershipLinerNotes, and tag me in your post. Let’s keep the conversation. and the echoes going.

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

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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.

The Power of the Pause:

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3 Reflection Tips for School Leaders

It’s loud at the end of the school year.

There are checklists to check off. Boxes to move. Emails to answer. Meetings to attend. Conversations to wrap. It can feel like you’re racing a clock with no hands—just noise, motion, and that persistent push toward “done.” As school leaders, we often wear this urgency like a badge of honor. But somewhere in the frenzy, we lose sight of something vital:

The pause.

The other day, our custodian was out, and I had to stay late to close the building. Alone. I walked the halls, locking doors and preparing to set the alarm. The building was still. No laughter echoing down the halls. No rush of students heading to the buses. Just me and the walls that had witnessed a school year’s worth of highs, lows, pivots, and quiet victories.

That simple rhythm—step, door, lock, breathe—became something sacred. I wasn’t just closing a building. I was closing a chapter. In that silence, the year spoke back to me. I remembered the breakthroughs. The bruises. The bounce-backs. The beauty of what we had built together.

And I realized something all over again: reflection is not a luxury. It’s a necessity.

Since my heart episode last year—a moment that forced me to recharge not just physically, but mentally and spiritually—I’ve come to believe even more deeply in the power of pause. I spent too many years avoiding it. Confusing the speed of leadership with the strength of leadership. I mistook checklists for vision. And it nearly broke me.

Innovation doesn’t come from being in constant motion. It comes from being still enough to listen to what the year has been teaching us all along.

So I offer this, not just as a fellow school leader, but as someone who had to learn the hard way: Make reflection part of your leadership practice. Not later. Now.

Here are three ways I’m leaning into reflection, even in the middle of the end-of-year mania:

🎧 1. Schedule 15 Minutes of Stillness

Block out 15 minutes this week—no email, no meetings, no phone. Find a quiet corner of your school. Sit. Breathe. Let the silence remind you of your why.

📝 2. Journal with Three Prompts

What am I most proud of this year? What did I learn from my staff? What will I do differently next year? Keep it short. Keep it honest. But write it down. Let your words catch up with your heart.

🚶‍♂️ 3. Take a Solo Walk Through the Building

No agenda. No checklist. Just walk. Let the sights, sounds, and stillness speak to you. Every poster, every student project, every empty seat is a story. These are the artifacts of your leadership.

If you’re reading this and feeling overwhelmed or alone, know this: you’re not. I’m walking this with you. And if you need a thought partner or a word of encouragement, I’m here.

Leadership is lonely—but it doesn’t have to be isolating. Especially when we choose to pause, reflect, and lead with presence.

The noise will pass. The moment won’t.

Make space for it.

The Applause We Don’t Hear

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The Applause We Don’t Hear

#PrincipalLinerNotes

There are moments in leadership—more than we care to admit—when it feels like leadership isn’t there for you.

You stand in a room and no one greets you. No one looks up. No one notices.

You offer ideas, vision, care—and it’s met with silence, or worse, indifference.

You give your best self and sometimes receive no acknowledgment in return.

The gig is tough. The gig is lonely. The gig will ask you to keep showing up, especially when the room grows quiet. And sometimes, it stays quiet.

And yet—we still walk in.

Why?

Because we’re human.

Because we crave meaning.

Because we want to belong just like anyone else.

I carry what my father taught me in these moments: Hold your head high. Even when no one seems to see you. Especially then.

And so, I look for the small things.

The fleeting glances. The quiet nods. The invisible applause.

Those moments when you know—deep in your gut—that you’re still in the groove.

I remember those moments when I played in bands. We’d be deep into a tune, and someone across the band space would catch my eye and offer a knowing smile. Just a look. A small moment that said, We’ve got this.

There’s a video I love of the Dave Brubeck Quartet performing Take Five. During Joe Morello’s legendary drum solo, Brubeck stops playing. He turns from the piano—not to take center stage, but to watch. To admire. To honor. No words. Just presence.

The Beatles did it, too. During that final rooftop concert, even amid the tension, they stole glances. Smiles. They saw each other. And they saw Billy Preston, too—playing keys right alongside them, lifting the sound, lifting the moment.

Even as the world watched from the streets below, the real audience wasn’t the crowd down there—it was amidst the band.

That’s what keeps me going in leadership—the small, true things.

A student’s unexpected smile.

A teacher’s thank-you whispered in the hallway.

A quiet moment where someone sees you—and maybe, just maybe, you see them too.

We may not always receive the applause. But we can give it.

We can be the nod.

We can be the smile.

We can be the Dave Brubeck who turns his head in full admiration.

We can be the Beatle who shares a grin in the middle of the chaos.

Those small moves? They matter.

They are leadership.

And when the room is quiet—lead anyway.

You never know who might be listening for your cue.

Somewhere in the Universe, Someone Believes in You Completely

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As I write this, I’m sitting with the weight of another school year nearing its close—reflective, grateful, and searching for meaning in the midst of it all.

I’ve been a principal for 16 years. I’ve poured myself into school after school, often the ones that needed the most care. I’ve stood on stages, been a finalist for NC Principal of the Year, written a book from my heart, and still—there are moments, like now, when I wonder if it’s all making a difference.

Maybe you’ve felt that too.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about The Beatles.
Specifically, August 29, 1966—their last public concert at Candlestick Park in San Francisco. They had reached a breaking point. They felt like they weren’t playing well.  Between public backlash over John Lennon’s remarks about The Beatles being more popular Jesus Christ and diplomatic fallout in the Philippines from unintentionally snubbing the President and First Lady there, the pressures became too much. So they did something radical—they stepped back. No farewell tour. No grand finale. Just a quiet pause.

Each band member took time to rediscover who they were beyond the noise. John went to Spain to film How I Won the War. Paul collaborated with George Martin on a film score. George immersed himself in sitar studies with Ravi Shankar in India. Ringo stayed home to be with his family.

Then, something beautiful happened.

They returned—not to the stage, but to the studio. And from that retreat came a wave of brilliance: Strawberry Fields Forever, Penny Lane, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

All of it began with a pause. A reset. A reclaiming of identity. A spark of innovation that changed the face of Music.

As leaders, we may not have world tours or screaming fans, but we do know what it feels like to carry the weight of expectations and the constant drumbeat of demands. In that rhythm, we can forget to care for ourselves in the same way we care for others.

We all crave connection. We all crave belonging.
And while we work so hard to create that for our teams, our students, and our communities—we must also remember to create it for ourselves.

Take the walk.
Play the record.
Write what’s on your heart.
Give yourself the same grace you offer to everyone else.

It’s easy to fall into the comparison trap—scrolling through highlight reels, seeing the accolades, the applause, the polished smiles. I’ve been there too. But the truth is, none of that defines your worth or your purpose.

Your worth is in the quiet moment with a student who needed someone to believe in them.
It’s in the coaching conversation that sparked a teacher’s growth.
It’s in the way you show up—consistently, compassionately, courageously.

You may not always see the impact. But it’s there.

If you’re at a crossroads, unsure of what’s next, or simply longing to feel grounded again, let this be your reminder:

Somewhere in the universe, someone believes in you completely.

Not for your title.
Not for your credentials.
But for who you are. For how you lead with heart. For how you care, even when it’s hard.

You matter.

Your leadership matters.

Your impact matters, and it will continue to do so in ways seen and unseen.

The Heart of Leadership: Humility and Belonging

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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.

Beat Support Revisited: Leadership in Rhythm

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Leadership can feel like navigating the swirling chaos of a live performance—where the screams of the crowd threaten to drown out your rhythm. As school leaders, it’s easy to get lost in the noise, but it’s in these moments that we must tune into those around us. The people we lead and serve are our rhythm section, and finding the right “beat support” can make all the difference.

I’ve been reflecting on this idea recently, inspired by a moment I once shared on my podcast, #PrincipalLinerNotes. Years ago, during one of my “Impromptu Carpool Episodes,” I recorded an off-the-cuff reflection about a clip of The Beatles performing “I Feel Fine” live. Amidst the chaos of Beatlemania—where stage monitors were nonexistent and screaming fans drowned out everything—Paul McCartney stepped in with a move of pure leadership. During Ringo Starr’s incredible drum break, Paul gave a quick cue, counting Ringo back in and ensuring he nailed his return to the beat.

That moment wasn’t just about music; it was a masterclass in leadership. It demonstrated the importance of being attuned to your team, providing support when they need it, and ensuring that everyone finds their rhythm.

The Rhythm of Belonging

I explored this connection between The Beatles, leadership, and education in my book, The Pepper Effect. In it, I share lessons from the Fab Four that remind us of the power of collaboration, creativity, and connection. (You can check out the book here! The Pepper Effect on Amazon).

One of the most important lessons from both The Beatles and leadership is the role of belonging. As leaders, we need to provide the cues and support that allow our team to thrive. Whether it’s a trusted teacher who serves as your barometer or the intentional moments where you help others find their groove, belonging starts with building connections.

Four Ways Leaders Can Build Beat Support

Here are four actionable ways leaders can create their own “beat support” and foster belonging:

1. Find Your Barometer

Identify someone you trust—someone who will be honest with you—and use them as a gauge to understand how your decisions and words land with your team.

2. Be a Barometer for Others

Provide clear and supportive cues for your team. Let them know where they stand and help them feel confident in their role.

3. Celebrate Strengths

Like Paul recognizing Ringo’s brilliance, tune into the unique gifts of your team members and amplify their contributions.

4. Create Collaborative Spaces

Build opportunities for your team to share ideas, support each other, and work toward common goals. Belonging grows in the spaces where collaboration thrives.

What’s Next: Why The Beatles Matter

This reflection on leadership, belonging, and The Beatles has inspired me to launch a new podcast called “Why The Beatles Matter,”starting December 12. This podcast will explore the lasting impact of The Beatles and their legacy through conversations with people whose lives have been shaped by their music and message.

I’m looking for future guests to share their stories of how The Beatles inspired them. If you’d like to join me on this journey, email me at sgaillard84@gmail.com. Spaces are filling up fast.

Now and Then, There Is Hope

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Now and Then, There Is Hope

Hope is something we all need. Whether we’re leading a school, guiding a team, or simply navigating the ups and downs of daily life, hope serves as our compass. It’s the whisper that reminds us we’re on the right path, that our vision matters, and that our efforts have the potential to create something meaningful.

But let’s be real—there are days when the compass feels broken. Days when we question our choices, when doubt creeps in, and Imposter Syndrome casts a shadow over our accomplishments. I’ve been there. We all have. And in those moments, I’ve learned that it’s the small, unexpected flashes of hope that keep us going: the spontaneous smile from a student as I walk down the hallway, the moment a teacher’s lesson hits its stride, or even a kind text from a loved one reminding me I’m not alone in this work.

Sometimes, hope arrives in the form of a song. As many of you know, I’m an unabashed Beatles fan. From The Pepper Effect to #ThePepperEffect, to countless references in talks, blog posts, and podcasts, The Beatles are my creative wellspring. My book, The Pepper Effect, explores the lessons of collaboration, creativity, and leadership that can be drawn from The Beatles’ groundbreaking Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. If you’d like to learn more about it, you can check it out here.

Last year, I had the privilege of writing a piece for Culture Sonar about Now and Then, the “last” Beatles song. The story behind this song resonates deeply with me as a testament to the power of hope. You can read that full piece here.

The story of Now and Then is itself a lesson in hope and perseverance. John Lennon recorded a rough demo at his piano in 1977. When the surviving Beatles—Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr—tried to finish it in the mid-90s, the project hit a wall. The synergy wasn’t there, and the technical limitations made it impossible to isolate John’s vocal clearly. The song was shelved, unfinished, but Paul never let it go. He believed there was something special in John’s demo—a spark waiting to ignite.

Decades later, in 2022, Paul and Ringo revisited Now and Then. With the help of advances in AI and the brilliant production skills of Giles Martin (son of George Martin, The Beatles’ original producer), they were able to clean up John’s vocal and add new musical elements. In 2023, the song was released, and for me, it felt like the world was witnessing a small miracle—a moment when something lost was found again. It was a triumph of hope, a testament to the belief that the impossible can become possible.

Earlier this week, I heard the news: Now and Then has been nominated for a Grammy Award for Record of the Year. It’s a powerful reminder that music—like hope—has the power to change the world. This song, born from a rough demo and sustained by Paul McCartney’s unwavering belief, is a symbol of what can happen when we refuse to give up on something that matters. It’s a lesson for all of us as leaders: sometimes, our vision won’t be embraced right away. There will be times when our ideas are met with polite nods or silence. But that doesn’t mean the idea isn’t worth pursuing. It just means we need to persevere and trust in the process.

Hope isn’t just a feeling; it’s a leadership move. It’s the quiet persistence to revisit ideas, to keep communicating, to invite others to collaborate and play together in the sandbox of possibility. I think about my latest initiative at school—the Principal Read Aloud. As a new leader, I wanted to find a way to connect with our students and teachers, to build trust and community. I proposed giving teachers a 30-minute break while I read aloud to their classes. It’s a simple idea, but it’s grounded in hope and the desire to show our school community that I’m here for them.

So far, only two teachers have signed up, and that’s okay. I’m hanging in there, just like Paul McCartney did with Now and Then. I believe in this small act of connection, and I’m willing to wait for it to grow, one read-aloud session at a time. Because that’s what hope looks like—it’s the willingness to keep showing up, to keep believing in the possibility of something beautiful taking shape.

As leaders, we have to hold onto hope like a North Star. It’s our guiding light, helping us navigate through challenges and inspiring others to do the same. Whether it’s in our school hallways, our team meetings, or even in the quiet moments of reflection, we have to keep hope in the foreground. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.

And as The Beatles remind us in their final song, hope is the thread that ties the past, present, and future together. Now and then, there is hope. It’s what brings us back, time and time again, to believe in the magic of possibility and the power of collaboration.

Let’s keep hope alive in our leadership moves. Let’s embrace the small moments that spark joy and connection. Let’s take the time to revisit old ideas, to share our vision with others, and to trust that, in the end, something beautiful will emerge.

Tune in to Hope:

  • Embrace Small Acts of Connection: Like my Principal Read Aloud, find simple ways to show your heart and commitment to your school community.
  • Persevere with Your Ideas: Even if your vision isn’t immediately accepted, keep refining and revisiting it. Trust that it has the potential to resonate with others over time.
  • Invite Others to Collaborate: Hope grows when we invite others to join us on the journey. Create space for shared ownership and creative contributions.

The journey of Now and Then is a reminder that we’re all part of something bigger. When we lead with hope, we open the door for new possibilities to enter, and that’s when the real magic happens.

Listen to Now and Then by The Beatles here.

#NowAndThen #LeadershipRiffs #TuneIntoHope

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The Value of Embracing Square One

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

Simplicity in Jazz:

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

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

Back to School:

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

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

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

Embracing Square One:

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

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

Leadership Moves to Embrace Square One:

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

Conclusion:

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

Listen to Miles Davis’ In a Silent Way here.