Fifteen years after I left the classroom, I had the opportunity to go back to the school where I taught second grade and keynote an event. That was pretty cool by itself. But when I got there, I saw Colin.
I taught Colin when he was in second grade. And on the day I came back to speak, Colin was starting his first year as a second-grade teacher. In the same district. Full-circle moment for both of us. We started talking, and Colin kept telling me stories about our class. He remembered things we did. He remembered moments with his classmates. He remembered interactions we had. The issue for me? I only remembered a few.
Here’s what I still remember to this day. I could tell you what my bulletin boards looked like. I could tell you about lessons I taught. I could tell you about the data we collected and what I thought was really important at the time.
That interaction changed the way I thought about my leadership because it reminded me of something that is incredibly easy to forget when you’re leading an elementary school. The things on your list aren’t always the things people remember.
They Know Your Rhythm
Every leader has a rhythm. You have one right now. The people in your building know it, too. They know what it’s like to approach you in the hallway. They know what happens when they walk into your office. They know what version of you is likely to show up at a staff meeting. They know what happens when you walk into their classroom. And that rhythm impacts the rhythm of everybody else in the building.
If your rhythm is constantly too high, rushing from one thing to another, responding before people finish, looking at your phone while they’re talking, making every issue feel urgent, people feel it. If your rhythm is too low, disconnected, unavailable, slow to respond, rarely present, people feel that, too.
Either way, something starts to happen. People brace themselves before they come to you.
That’s not where we want to be as leaders. We want people to know what version of us they’re going to get. That’s predictability. And predictability builds trust.
I don’t think great leadership means walking around an elementary school completely calm while chaos unfolds around you. That’s not realistic. It’s an elementary school. Someone forgot their lunch. Someone else forgot their backpack. A parent needs to talk to you right now. A teacher is trying to find coverage. There’s a kid crying in the hallway. The bus is late. You have a meeting in seven minutes, and someone just reminded you about something you were supposed to do yesterday. That’s the work.
The problem isn’t that those things happen. The problem is when what happens around us determines WHO we become in the moment. When that happens, our response is based on our environment instead of our values.
Think about how different those two things are. If I’m responding based on my environment, you might get one version of me at 8:15 and a completely different version at 2:45. If I’m responding from my values, the circumstances might change, but the person responding to them doesn’t.
That doesn’t mean I’m never frustrated. It doesn’t mean I don’t have difficult conversations or make decisions people don’t like. It means you shouldn’t have to wonder who I am before you walk into the room.
When the Work Takes Over
I think one of the biggest threats to a principal’s rhythm is pretty simple. The work overtakes you. Elementary principals have never-ending lists. Observations. Emails. IEP meetings. Parent calls. Discipline. Schedules. Budgets. Staffing. Data. Professional development. District initiatives. Safety plans. Reports. Check. Check. Check. Three go away…three get added. Daily.
There is something satisfying about getting things off the list. The problem comes when the list stops helping us manage the work and starts preventing us from leading the people. The problem I had was focusing on what we needed to do, not on the people who were doing it.
The teacher standing at my door became someone keeping me from finishing the email. The kid who wanted to tell me what happened at recess became someone keeping me from getting to the meeting. The custodian who started a conversation became someone slowing me down on my way to the next thing.
They weren’t the interruptions. My list had made me see them that way.
That conversation with Colin helped me realize how much I didn’t remember about the moments that mattered. We don’t get to choose what they remember. We don’t know which interaction will stick.
That’s why every interaction matters.
After seeing Colin, I found myself trying to spend more time in the moment rather than rushing past it to get to the next thing on my list. That’s a different rhythm.
It doesn’t mean the list goes away. It means the list knows its place. There are still reports to finish. There are still emails to answer. There are still meetings to attend. There are still hard decisions that have to be made. But none of those things should have the power to determine who you are when someone walks into your office. Your values should do that.
Your Rhythm Becomes Their Rhythm
Here’s the part we sometimes miss as principals.
Your rhythm doesn’t stay with you. It spreads.
If everything feels urgent to you, everything eventually feels urgent to everyone else. If you’re constantly running, people start running. If you’re unpredictable, people spend energy trying to read you instead of doing their best work.
But the opposite is also true. When you’re present, people learn that they don’t have to rush every interaction. When you’re consistent, people know where they stand. When your response is grounded in who you are instead of what just happened, people don’t have to brace themselves before they come to you. They can just come to you.
That’s a big deal. Especially in an elementary school.
Kids are watching how adults interact. Teachers are watching how leaders respond under pressure. Families are deciding whether this is a place where they feel welcomed and heard. Your rhythm is teaching people something about your building every day.
So before you walk into your building tomorrow, don’t start with your checklist. Start with yourself. Ask yourself, what is my rhythm right now? And maybe more importantly, what does my rhythm cause other people to do?
Do they move toward you or prepare themselves for you? Do they know which version of you they’re going to get? Are you responding to people based on what you value, or based on whatever happened five minutes before they walked into the room? The goal is to find a rhythm that allows you to consistently lead from WHO you are.
Because someday, someone you taught, coached, supported, hired, or led might come back and tell you about a moment that meant everything to them…and you may not remember it. That’s ok. They will. But the more present you are, the better chance you have to find some joy in those moments as well. You deserve that. So don’t walk past too many of those moments trying to get to the next thing on the list. The list will still be there. The moment won’t.
Dr. Joe Sanfelippo, a speaker and author, formerly served as a superintendent in Wisconsin. He started the #1minwalk2work Leadership Challenge on social media and has authored multiple books on school leadership including “Lead From WHO You Are.”
Learn more from Dr. Sanfelippo during his keynote at the TEPSA Summer Conference, June 8-10, 2027 at the Round Rock Kalahari. Member registration opens January 13.
