Purpose Inspired Education

10/12/2026

“POF.”
That was the code teachers texted each other when their principal was nearby.
It stood for “Principal On The Floor.”

When a teacher whispered this to me, my stomach dropped.
We were at a conference. A principal we both admired was presenting his approach to supporting teachers by spending LOTS of time in classrooms.

“I hate that,” she whispered as the principal continued on with his presentation.
“I mean, I love my principal. I respect my principal. But I hate having her in my room. She thinks she’s helping, but her help isn’t actually helpful. It just makes me feel nervous and judged, even though I know that’s not her intent.”

Ouch!

Until that moment, I’d been soaking in this principal’s words, already crafting a mental list of what I might adopt from his presentation at my own school.

This teacher’s whisper instantly shifted my perspective.

It’s been more than a decade since that conference.
I’ve left the K-8 world and opened my own childcare center and preschool.
But that honest whisper from years ago has been very much on my mind as I prepare for an observation by an outside organization, the final step in a quality rating program we’re participating in.

And I keep coming back to one question:
How do we prepare for an observation without making the observation the point?

Because the goal isn’t to navigate through a checklist of items that will be evaluated.
The goal is quality learning and care everyday.

So, I've studied the indicators on which we'll be observed.
And I've noticed something.
Each of the indicators comes alive through play.
Or more specifically, through my definition of play.

Play is entering a world of possibility and engaging with what unfolds.

And although not in that language, that's what's being observed.

There are indicators based on classroom environment:
the world of possibility teachers are preparing for their students to enter.

There are indicators relating to interactions with and among students:
engaging with what unfolds.

And so, preparing for our upcoming observation is far less about performing for someone who's watching and far more about delivering what matters most for the children in our classrooms day in and day out.

A three-hour observation can offer a glimpse.
But it can't truly capture the world of possibility we're creating.
It can't follow the way we engage with what unfolds over time.

The real measure of quality isn't what happens when someone comes to observe.
It's what happens when nobody is watching.
It’s what happens when the principal isn’t on the floor.

10/06/2026

What do gravity, a broom, some string, paint, and some preschoolers have to do with the purpose of school?

Turns out . . . quite a lot.

There’s been so much talk recently about the purpose of school.
“What should we prepare students for?” many ask.
“Do we have to separate ‘college readiness’ from ‘career readiness’?” others wonder.

The questions are important, but they don’t go far enough.
And as in so much of life, preschoolers can get us back on track.

Today a student in our preschool wondered how gravity works.
Another wanted to know everyone’s favorite color combinations.

Their teacher quickly set up an activity: Gravity Paint Drip.
Fill a cup with holes in the bottom, carefully choosing the colors you want, and suspend it in the air.

How do you suspend a cup in the air? Well, that’s the first challenge.
Chairs, a broom, and some string solved that problem.

Then spin the cups and watch gravity at work.
The results: gorgeous!

We learned physics. We learned color theory.
We cultivated creativity, love of learning, appreciation of beauty and excellence, humor, curiosity, and teamwork.

We laughed. And we learned.

We didn’t ditch the curriculum or the standards.
We embedded them in something more important.

How do we cultivate the best of ourselves, our own inner strengths, to face the challenges that matter most to us?

That’s the purpose of school.

10/06/2026

10/01/2026

Courage can be quiet.

I’ve been thinking a lot about a paraprofessional I hired twenty-five years ago.
“I’m a teacher,” she declared with a smile on her very first day.
She told me her dream was to enroll in college and get her teaching degree and certification.

Several months into the school year she called out sick.
She said she was unsure when she would be back.

Two weeks later she returned.
Her hands shook as she pulled a letter from her bag and handed it to me.
It was a discharge letter from a psychiatric hospital clearing her to work.

“Welcome back,” I said softly. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m allowed to come back?” she asked.
“Of course,” I said. “You have the medical clearance.”
She didn’t share much more.
Only that she had been suffering and knew she needed help.

She stayed at our school for several successful years.
When she left, it was to return to college and get her teaching degree.

In the years since, I’ve worked with many teachers struggling with challenges bigger than what a school can possibly support.

Recently, it feels like the needs are growing.
We’re seeing it show up in attendance.
Call-outs are rampant, often because a teacher says they need a mental health day.

There’s no shortage of advice from experts.
Recruit better.
Create better onboarding systems.
Build a stronger culture.

The advice has merit. I’ve followed much of it.
But it doesn’t close the painful gap between our hearts and our systems.
We want to help. But sometimes what a person needs is beyond what a school can provide.
And we have a responsibility to the children who walk through our doors every day.

This puts school leaders in an incredibly difficult position:
How do we support the person struggling without compromising on the stability, consistency, and presence students need?

The conclusion I keep coming to is uncomfortable.
Schools don’t have the answer.

But what I believe schools can do is build communities safe enough for people to seek what they truly need without judgment.

Schools can be places where people discover their own strength and courage.

09/30/2026

Yesterday, our building fire alarm went off.
It wasn’t a drill.

Some children had been napping.
Others had been eating lunch.
More than a few were in the middle of diaper changes.

We evacuated a center full of infants, toddlers, and preschoolers in less than two minutes.

“Scary,” a few toddlers yelled.
I responded by naming their strengths.

“You’re brave,” I told the children covering their ears, bothered by the sound of the alarm.
“You’re patient,” I shared as we waited for the firefighters to arrive.
“You’re cooperative,” I said as they listened to our instructions.

I watched as their expressions shifted from fear and confusion to confidence.

When the firefighters arrived, our preschoolers spontaneously cheered.
Their gratitude and admiration for these local heroes was palpable.

As I stood with our cheering preschoolers, I was reminded of something I believe deeply:
Don’t look for what’s wrong. Look for what’s strong.

Because what you look for, you grow.
When you look for what’s wrong, you see deficits.
When you look for what’s strong, you see capacity.

It took just several minutes for the firefighters to give us permission to go back inside.
We praised our students and teachers and then continued on with our day.

On the surface everything was the same as it had been before the evacuation.
But below the surface, we felt something different.
We had acted with purpose, bringing the best of ourselves to the challenge in front of us.

We had been brave, patient, helpful, and strong.
And when you show your strengths, your strengths grow.

09/29/2026

One of the most damaging phrases in a school community sounds completely reasonable:
“We need to get everyone on the same page.”

I remember being told this in a school where I was serving as principal.
I was on a committee choosing our school’s core values.

The values we were considering felt generic to me. I had seen them on dozens of other school websites. I was certain they didn’t reflect the depth of who we were or who we wanted to be as a school community.

I said so.
And I was told we all needed to get on the same page.

So I did.
Or at least it looked like I did.

But I rarely referred to those values in my work.
I complied, but I never committed.

Real collaboration doesn't require everyone to think the same way.
It requires enough trust to disagree, enough respect to listen, and enough shared purpose to keep moving forward.

So what does real collaboration look like when we disagree?

1. Allow for disagreement
Listen to other perspectives. They may shift your thinking or help you find a better solution together. And sometimes, after genuinely listening, you still won't agree. That's okay.

2. Return to shared purpose
Start with what matters to all of us, even if we disagree about how to get there.

3. Be honest about who decides
If disagreement remains, be clear about who has the final say, why, and how they considered the perspectives people shared.

We can share the same purpose without being on the same page.

09/28/2026

I’ll never forget the moment I realized my daughter wasn’t me.
Obvious, right?
Of course she’s not me. She’s her.

She was about six years old at the time.
Nothing dramatic happened.

We were in the basement. Toys were everywhere.
She was just standing there looking at me.
And for a split second, I really saw her.
And I realized how much of myself I had been bringing to the way I parented her.

Because I was a shy, awkward kid, I assumed she would be as well.
I wanted to protect her from the pain I had experienced.
But I realized I was looking at her childhood through the lens of my own.

She would have pain. We all do.
But it wouldn’t be the same as mine.
She wasn’t a second chance for me to relive my childhood and get it right.
She was herself.

Treating her as if I were parenting myself as a child wasn’t going to work.
So I changed how I parented.

I didn’t do it perfectly.
I wish I had done better.
But I learned.

And eventually, it changed how I taught and how I led.
Because I realized we bring our own histories and assumptions into schools, too.

We can look at a child and see who we think they should become.
We can look at a teacher and see who we think they should be.
Sometimes, without realizing it, we stop seeing the person who is actually standing in front of us.

Today, that 6-year-old has children of her own.
And she teaches in my school.

I get to see her parent and teach in a way that honors the individuality of children.
That’s a gift.

She seems to understand something it took me much longer to discover:

Children don’t come with recipes.
Neither do adults.

Our job isn’t to know the perfect thing to do.
It’s to be present to what is unfolding within children and within ourselves.

09/05/2026

What if we redefined education to help bring the best of ourselves to the challenges that matter most to us.

Not replacing academic skills, but putting them in service of helping children discover who they are, cultivate their inner strengths, build resilience, and bring their gifts into the world.

🌱 Curriculum would serve life, not replace it.
🌱 Struggle would be seen as growth, not failure.
🌱 Knowledge and skills would expand our capacity to contribute to what matters most.
🌱 Adults would cultivate their own strengths, not just deliver content.
🌱 Children would learn who they are, not just what they can do.
🌱 Success would mean living with purpose, not just performing under pressure.

This is Purpose Inspired Education™.
Education that’s redefined to cultivate the capacity to bring the best of ourselves to the challenges that matter most to us.

👉 If you're a parent, teacher, or school leader who believes education should help children flourish, not just perform, follow

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💾 Save this if you've ever wondered what education could become.

09/05/2026

There are two kinds of challenges: those we choose and those life chooses for us.
School, as currently designed, doesn't prepare us for either.

We've built an educational system that prepares children for what comes next:
preschool for kindergarten, elementary school for middle school, high school for college.

But even the students most prepared for what comes next aren't prepared for what actually matters.

They learn to take tests, write papers, and complete projects.

But not how to:
🌱Nurture meaningful relationships
🌱Care for their physical and emotional health
🌱Handle their finances and resources
🌱Identify and cultivate creative outlets
🌱Chart their own ways of finding joy and purpose
🌱Navigate through stress and adversity

We want children to be successful, so we define success as checkmarks on a list of standards.
We want children to be happy, so we protect them from struggle.
We want certainty that our actions will help, so we standardize our approach with measurable outcomes.

But what we're measuring isn’t what actually matters.
We can change that.

Purpose is bringing the best of ourselves to the challenges that matter most to us.

Purpose Inspired Education™ prepares children and adults to bring the best of ourselves to the challenges we choose and the challenges life chooses for us.

👉 If you're a parent, teacher, or school leader who wants to bring the best of yourself to the challenges that matter most and help the children in your life do so as well, follow

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💾 Save this if you've ever wondered whether school is actually preparing children for life.

09/04/2026

I used to think my job as a school leader was to hold the vision.
Now I know it's something deeper. 💙

I prioritized what mattered most to me.
I had a clear vision for our school.
Teachers were expected to align with it, implement it, live it.

And they did. But at a high cost.
What mattered most to them had to stay under the radar.

The shift came when I invited teachers to speak to prospective parents about their rooms and programs. They spoke about what matters most to them. Their passion shone through. The vision they shared was truly theirs.

Now I lead differently. We have guardrails, but within them, teachers get to do things their authentic way. We're building a shared vision where everyone participates, and everyone adds what matters most to them.

We're redefining education.

I now view the purpose of education is cultivating our capacity to bring the best of ourselves to the challenges that matter most. That starts with the educators.

And that requires the freedom to be open about what each of us believes truly matters most. 💙

👉 Swipe through to see the shift.
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💾 Save this if you've ever felt the gap between the vision you're expected to carry and the one you carry in your heart.

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