08/14/2026
I recently shared the article from The Principal's Desk, a large Facebook group for principals, about the vilification of school leadership that hit uncomfortably close to home. It talked about how principals are often vilified—cast as the bad guy in many stories, the faceless bureaucracy in every disagreement, or the convenient target when things go wrong, and as the one unable to meet "my expectations" when trying to meet every expectation from everyone all the time.
What that article didn't capture is everything that happens behind closed doors.
People don't see the silent crises managed before the morning bell rings. They don't see the legal boundaries, budget constraints, confidential personnel issues, or regulatory hoops that shape every difficult decision. They don't see the sheer weight of responsibility required to run a school safely every single day.
When you break down the math, the reality of this job is staggering. In my building, I lead 80 employees and care for 600 students. Between staff, kids, and the parents or guardians behind every single student, that is easily over 1,000 different people whose needs, hopes, and expectations land on my desk every day. Everyone deserves representation. Everyone wants what is best. But those 1,000+ expectations often directly conflict with one another.
And guess what? Sometimes we come up short.
I have made decisions that disappointed people. I have made calls I wished I could reframe. In a role where every choice is scrutinized under a microscope, perfection is an illusion.
After years in this seat, it would be extraordinarily easy to become calloused and jaded. It would be easy to build up a wall, turn off the empathy, and just manage the building like a corporate office. But I refuse to lead that way.
Instead of letting the weight harden me, I choose to let it refine me. I choose to remain focused and driven. Every single student, teacher, and family in our community deserves a leader who shows up with fire, purpose, and compassion—even on the hardest days.
To my fellow administrators out there carrying the invisible heavy lifting: I see you. Keep choosing purpose over cynicism. Our kids are worth it.
Mathew Portell
This photo was not taken at night but in the morning, when most are still fast asleep...