Leading with Humility

| This leader illustrates how adaptive leadership in schools often requires letting go of assumptions, embracing humility, and learning to lead adults with the same care we lead students.

When I first stepped into school leadership, I believed my years as a classroom teacher would naturally carry me forward. I thought I was a good teacher and my positive years in the classroom had given me confidence. I thought my fellow faculty members were going to be carrying me on their shoulders because they were so happy I was named principal. I thought I knew how to plan, motivate, manage a room, and guide students toward growth. Obviously, those skills would translate directly to leading a faculty. But I soon discovered that school leadership is not simply an extension of teaching; it’s teaching of an entirely different kind.

The truth hit me quickly, but I wish it hit me more quickly than it did. The instincts that served me well with teenagers often failed me when working with adults. I cringe when I think about how consistently my earliest mistakes came from trying to assert authority too forcefully, thinking control equaled respect. Over time, I had learned that real influence in the classroom was not about domination, but about relationship, clarity, and consistency. Ironically, when I began leading adults, I repeated the very mistakes I once made as a rookie teacher. I came out too strong, leaning too heavily on positional authority, believing that decisiveness alone would inspire trust. Instead, I found that it created distance.

Faculty members bring with them years of experience, deeply held convictions, and professional pride. They don’t want a principal who “manages” them into compliance. They definitely don’t want a spin doctor. They want a leader who respects them, works alongside them, and sees them as partners in the shared mission of forming young people. They want honesty and authenticity. I wanted that as well. I wanted to be a colleague, not “the boss,” and when I was trying to be something I wasn’t, it came across as inauthentic.

It took missteps, a lot of honest reflection, and challenging conversations to understand this. I read a lot, I listened to podcasts, I talked to people I trusted and respected. I began to better understand that at my core I wanted to be a servant leader. I wanted to be the person who showed up for people, and who people knew would show up for them, no matter what.

Servant leadership became, for me, not just a framework but a lifeline. I learned that my first responsibility as a leader is to work for the people I lead, not the other way around. That doesn’t mean surrendering standards or bending to every request. Leadership often requires making difficult decisions that leave some disappointed. But when those decisions are rooted in empathy, transparency, and clear communication, even disagreement becomes a path to better understanding and outcomes.

When colleagues know you’ve taken the time to listen to their concerns, they’re more willing to hear your “why.” When they believe you respect their work, even when you can’t give them everything they want, they’re more inclined to trust your judgment. This is adaptive leadership in practice: modeling the dispositions we hope our teachers embody, approaching each challenge with humility, presence, and a commitment to shared growth.

Early on, I thought leadership was about getting people to follow me. Now I believe it’s about helping people see themselves more clearly, supporting them as they stretch, and showing them a pathway to do their best work. Leadership is teaching adults, yes—but more than that, it is a daily exercise in patience, service, and building trust, one conversation at a time. No great teacher and no great leader is ever finished learning or growing. That’s part of what makes this work so exciting and fulfilling.