My earliest understanding of good teaching resulted from a conversation at age six with my parents in which I insisted that my teacher had not taught me to read. Instead, I explained, I had learned how to read all on my own. My father, a career educator and the head of the school I attended, explained my learning in terms of the goals of progressive pedagogy: the teacher had facilitated an experience and provided tools, but it was through my own curiosity, agency, and effort that I had begun to read. Ironically, the fact that I thought she had not taught me to read - that I had learned the skill by myself - was a testament to her teaching excellence. Central to my educational philosophy is that we focus less on what teachers teach than on what and how students learn.

Horace Mann wrote, “The love of excellence looks ever upward towards a higher standard…no community should rest contented with being superior to other communities, while it is inferior to its own capabilities.” Framed above my desk, this quotation serves as a daily reminder that school is a place in which learning can and should be happening always and everywhere. Everyone in school has an ongoing responsibility to imagine and take the steps necessary to become better versions of ourselves, and to support those around us as they do the same. School is a place we each go to become better together, a place in which we each belong, and a place in which we each recognize that becoming better is best done in community with others who are seeking the same. In a good school, the institution and the people within it are always learning, always curious, always passionate, and always growing closer to their potential.

Central to my educational philosophy is the belief that students must have active experiences in order to learn and grow. They must engage their questions about the world around them. They must get messy with materials and ideas. They must spend as little time as possible on that which is boring and rote, and as much time as possible on that which captivates and transforms. They must grapple with problems that are pressing, relevant, and complex. They must see purpose in their learning, and as they learn, they must also learn how to learn so as to become effective students for the rest of their lives.

What do excellent schools do? They emphasize student-centered learning, critical thinking, ethical decision-making, student connectedness, and curricular relevance and cohesion. They encourage inquiry, recognizing the art of asking questions as equal in value to that of answering them. They seek an appropriate balance between struggle and success, offering an individualized approach for each student they serve. Excellent schools guard children’s time as a valuable but limited resource, and filter the ever-increasing demands and distractions facing them. Excellent schools pursue a public purpose, seeking and providing for families from a wide diversity of backgrounds, while also building partnerships within local and global communities. Excellent schools provide a moral compass and continuously empower their students and faculty to approach the great ethical questions: what matters? how should we live? Excellent schools cherish their missions and continue year-after-year that which works most effectively, while always seeking improvement through reflection, consistent effort, strategic action, and open-minded collaboration. Excellent schools have communities that support and celebrate their students, and provide a great way to spend childhood and life.

As a school leader, I strive to develop cultures and systems that support reflection and growth, and to convey a sense of restless optimism in moving towards a shared vision. I try to understand both the real and the ideal, and to consider carefully the diverse perspectives and opinions of the school’s past, current, and future constituencies. I try to imbue in the whole community the values that animate our best classrooms: listening is as important as speaking, being convinced is as important as convincing, and arriving at conclusions is far more rewarding than starting from them.

Whenever someone asks me for advice on how to choose a school for their family, I think back to the advice I received from a school psychologist years ago: take a moment when visiting schools to just close your eyes and listen, and take note of what you hear. How are students and teachers talking to one another? What does the learning sound like and does it reflect what you think it should sound like? Do you hear sounds of celebration and play and fun? As schools went online in the spring of 2020, many of us were struck by how much we missed the sounds of classrooms, hallways, gyms, playgrounds, and even cafeterias. Ever since, I have noticed how evident joy is in what I hear throughout the day. I consider it my responsibility as a school leader to model and champion that joy, and to encourage colleagues and student leaders to do the same. Joy, after all, is the intangible, magical ingredient present in any excellent school community, and it is the very first thing I listen for when I am in school.

Time is a scarce resource, and students’ years in school represent only a small portion of their lifelong study, but it is inevitably during this period that the measure of each person’s potential to flourish throughout life is developed. Also framed above my desk, next to the Horace Mann quotation, is a line from a poem by Philip Larkin: “What will survive of us is love.” As a school administrator, my school and its people are an extension of my home and my family. Learning, teaching, and belonging are all grounded in love. I choose this career because I think being in a school I love with people I love every day is a great way to spend a life and leave a lasting legacy. At the local level, access to an outstanding education presents the best avenue for each person to realize his or her potential. At the global level, education is the single most important resource for the world. I know of no greater joy, no greater motivator, and no greater reward than a day well-spent in school.