Higher Performance Insights | YOU WERE BORN A GENIUS. SCHOOL FIXED THAT

June 9, 2026
higher performance insights

Inside The June Roundtable Where District And Campus Leaders Finally Said The Quiet Part Out Loud.


THE PAPERCLIP. SIXTY SECONDS. AND A ROOM FULL OF GENIUSES.


Here's a question eleven educational leaders answered before 10:00 AM on June 3rd: How many uses can you list for a paperclip in sixty seconds?


The chat filled fast. Restart your modem. Fishhook. Lockpick. Holding hair back out of your eyes. Key ring.


The best one — from Kim LeClaire, Education Advisor and Strategist out of Denver — the one that stopped the room: the paper clip that held her rain cape together as she walked the Camino de Santiago.


Then the data landed.


In 1968, NASA commissioned Dr. George Land to build a test to find the most innovative thinkers on the planet. He gave it to 1,600 children aged four and five. Ninety-eight percent scored at genius level — the same standard NASA used for rocket scientists.


He retested them at age ten: 30 percent. At fifteen: 12 percent. He then tested 280,000 adults.


Two percent.


Land's conclusion: non-creative behavior is learned. We are not born uncreative. We are taught — institution by institution, grade by grade — to believe the paperclip is only for paper.


That conclusion is the premise of every Peer-to-Peer Leadership Roundtable Higher Performance Group convenes. And it was Kim (for the win) who named what the data actually means for every institution in that room:


"How do we support the human capacity for creativity?"


That is not a warm-up exercise. It is the essential question for every institution these eleven leaders walk into every day. And on June 3rd — leaders from Washington and Minnesota, Ohio and Virginia, Texas and Illinois, K–12 districts and college campuses — they spent sixty minutes attempting to answer it together.


Not with frameworks. With the room thinking out loud.


THE DIAGNOSIS: YOUR SILOS ARE STRUCTURAL, NOT PERSONAL — AND THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING


Let's talk about this like adults who've survived multiple accreditation cycles, bond referendums, and at least one strategic planning retreat where the mission statement got wordsmithed for four hours while the actual problem waited patiently in the parking lot.


Silos are not a character failure. They are not a communication problem. They are not evidence that your VPs don't respect each other — although, statistically, two of them might not.


Dr. Rick W. Smith Sr., CFRL, CCDP President of Dallas College North Lake — a former hospital administrator for 23 years, then a decade in television news, now a decade in higher education — named it with the precision of someone who has led three entirely different systems:


"Silos are often the unintended consequence of how organizations are organized, measured, and — too many times — rewarded. The challenge is ensuring those priorities remain connected to institutional goals."


That reframe changes the entire fix. If silos are a character failure, you call a retreat. You invest in communication training. You hire a consultant who facilitates a trust exercise that everyone finds mildly uncomfortable and immediately forgets.


If silos are structural — the predictable output of incentive architecture — you redesign who makes decisions, where resources flow, and how information moves between people who serve the same students but rarely occupy the same room.


TQ = IQ × EQ × PQ. The PQ dimension — Perceptual Intelligence, the capacity to accurately read what's actually happening in your institution — depends on this. You cannot build organizational perceptual accuracy when the structural design actively prevents the right people from seeing the whole picture.


And here's what our research across 987 leadership teams in 43 states tells us: the teams operating at 60% capacity aren't there because of talent deficits. They're there because the architecture was never designed for multiplication.


(This is the exact problem THE TEAM INSTITUTE was built to address — not by making individuals better at working around broken structures, but by helping cabinets redesign the architecture itself. More on that in a moment.)


In a BANI environment — Brittle, Anxious, Nonlinear, Incomprehensible — architecture optimized for Coasters isn't just inefficient. It becomes existentially dangerous.


Dr. Nathan S. Schilling, CSBO, Superintendent of Lansing School District 158 brought the session's most vivid metaphor: his 1973 Mustang, purchased specifically after confirming it had undergone a full frame-off restoration — all body paneling removed, foundational work done first, then reassembled.


"Some restorations slap new panels over a completely rusted frame. That looks great inside — it's completely rusted and falling apart."


That is the institutional response most strategic plans represent: new panels, rusted frame. The leaders in this room are not interested in new panels.


THE FRAMEWORK: BUILDERS, DREAMERS, COASTERS, AND CLIMBERS


Not every leader in your institution responds to BANI the same way. Our research names four behavioral patterns that show up in every institution navigating disruption — and the distribution matters more than the diagnosis.



The framework exists not to celebrate the people in the room but to name the structures around them. A Builder can lead an institution still optimized for Coasters. The challenge is not character — it is architecture.


The difference between a Builder and a Dreamer is not ambition. Dreamers are often spectacularly ambitious. The difference is specificity: does what you just committed to have a date, a name, and a measurable outcome? Without all three, it is a dream, not a plan.


Rick Aulie, first-year superintendent of CROSBY IRONTON PUBLIC SCHOOLS - ISD 182 on Schools in Minnesota, offered the session's most precise illustration of BANI lived rather than theorized. He navigated 36 staffing changes since July 1st — two new principals, a new tech director, a retiring HR director — in a district of 950 students. Two buildings, two and a half miles apart. Completely different emotional climates. Same leadership. Same year. A referendum won on the third attempt.


That is not exceptional talent. That is a Builder who looked at brittleness, anxiety, nonlinearity, and incomprehensibility and said: this is the design brief. What are we building?


WHAT ELEVEN LEADERS SAID WHEN THE ROOM FINALLY GOT HONEST


The session's most productive stretch was not a structured exercise. It was the sixty minutes after the framework landed — when every leader in the room stopped performing a role and started describing what they've actually seen.


On the Handoff Gap Between K–12 and Higher Education


Jason Mantell, Superintendent of OAK HILL UNION LOCAL SCHOOL DISTRICT in southern Ohio, described a relationship with local universities that most districts would call unusual: genuinely collaborative. He didn't study the teacher shortage. He made the call.


"We went to local universities and said: we need to start a teacher-in program in high school. We need to find out when kids are 17 or 18, not when they're sophomores in college." That program now exists.

"It really hasn't been a battle. It's been more of an engagement."


Dr. Richmond Hill, Ed.D., Provost at Northern Virginia Community College described what happens when you run the cross-sector play correctly. In February, his campus convened a math faculty summit with the local school district — not a planning meeting, but faculty from both institutions in the same room.


"Now they are doing it on their own. We don't have to convene them any longer."


That sentence contains an entire theory of institutional change. The organizer eventually becomes unnecessary. That is not a program. It is relationship infrastructure.


On the Students Falling Through the Gap


Dr. Nathan Schilling brought the micro-step perspective the macro conversation consistently loses. His late brother Aaron graduated from high school, enrolled at a four-year college, didn't find his footing, came home, enrolled at Oakton Community College, earned A's and B's, transferred to Northern Illinois University, earned his degree, became a director of finance for a school district.


Community college was the bridge. Not everyone needs the same path. The question is whether you've built the micro-steps.

Melanie Matta, Superintendent/Principal of Hope Elementary in Porterville, California, brought the student-voice methodology down to daily practice. She surveyed her students: what do you want your classroom environment to look like? Who on campus do you feel connected to? What parts of your day feel like a waste of time?


"Several of them said lunch. Lunch was a waste of time. And I'm like — okay. How could we restructure lunch so that it doesn't feel like a waste of time to them?"


That is not a listening session. That is design thinking as daily leadership practice.


On the Third System Nobody Talks About


Yianni (John) Vassiliou, Ph.D., Chancellor at Albizu University - Miami Campus, named the system that sits at the end of the pipeline — and that both K–12 and higher education consistently fail to connect with: the workforce.


"No one is going to any institution to get a piece of paper and put it on the wall. They're going to get something — knowledge that will apply to real work. So it's our due diligence to find those opportunities for them."


Vassiliou launched four new programs at Albizu this fall — intersecting behavioral science with AI, wearable technology, and cybersecurity — specifically because he went to local organizations, asked what they actually need, and built curriculum around the connection.


On What Leaders Are Actually Carrying


Dr. Ellen Perconti, Superintendent of Goldendale School District #404 in Washington, days from the end of a distinguished career, described the emotional texture of transition that most leaders are too professional to name: "People start routing around you before you've gone."


She brought the session's sharpest readiness reframe:


"Our Kinder teachers say that incoming children are not prepared for school. My response is — so how do we prepare for the students who will come this fall? We want to maintain high expectations and build different supports for students to succeed."

Kim LeClaire connected the personal to the institutional. She named student voice as a structural choice, not an oversight:

"Rarely do I see in any organization bringing in the people we serve into the leadership discussions — literally student voice as we discuss issues. It's an art to design the experience with them at the table."


Dr. Richmond Hill extended that principle with the closing metaphor of the cross-sector exchange: "We often plan a party for a person — bring chocolate cake and ice cream — and they hate chocolate cake and are lactose intolerant. We brought the wrong thing to the right party. All because we didn't ask the guest of honor."


"We do this in education a lot."


And Dr. Michael Lubelfeld, completing 30 years as superintendent as of June 30th, named what runs through all of it: "It's 2026 and we are now preparing for the 22nd century. Whether we're publics or privates, charters or micros, profit or nonprofit — we are one team and we're team society."


DR. JOE HILL closed the cross-sector exchange with the observation that named what made June 3rd different from every regional conference these leaders had attended:


"What you just did is rare. A superintendent and a president describing the same student from two sides of the same handoff. That gap is a silo. It belongs to both of you. Neither of you can fix it alone. The question is not whether you need each other. It is what you are willing to build."


40 million Americans hold college credits and no credential. Not because they quit. Because the handoff infrastructure was never built. 60% of community college students who intend to transfer never complete it.


Superintendents: those are your graduates. Presidents: those students started in your buildings.


That number belongs to both sectors. And the leaders in this room are the ones choosing to own it.


THE APPLICATION: FOUR MOVES. THIS WEEK.


Here's what to do Monday morning — assuming you're not already in crisis mode, in which case, bookmark this and do it Tuesday:


Move 1: Name Your One Silo (15 minutes, before your next cabinet meeting)

Kim LeClaire closed the session with the sharpest challenge of the morning: What is the ONE silo you will undo before end of year?


Not "we need to improve cross-functional collaboration." That is a Dreamer sentence. A Builder sentence has a wall, a date, and a phone call. Name the specific structural gap that costs your students the most. Write it down. Give it a deadline. Name who you need to call.


If you can't answer that in fifteen minutes, you don't have a clarity problem. You have an avoidance problem.


Move 2: Ask the Guest of Honor (next time you're near students)

Melanie Matta surveyed her students on what feels like a waste of time and then asked them how to fix it. Dr. Richmond Hill described a college president who skipped the conference circuit and went to the commons area to listen. Dr. Yianni Vassiliou brought K–12 principals into his campus and said: tell me your actual challenges.


The wisdom of proximity over performance. Your students are not the guest of honor at your strategic planning sessions. Fix that.

Move 3: Make the Cross-Sector Call (one specific person, one specific ask)


Jason Mantell made the call to local universities about a teacher pathway. Dr. Richmond Hill got math faculty from both institutions in the same room. Dr. Rick Smith built the Dallas College Next Gen Sector Partnerships table — industry, secondary institutions, legislators, all at once — because he understood: no one side finds the resolution alone.


One call. Not a task force. Not a committee. The person on the other side of the handoff your students are falling through.

Move 4: Apply the Builder Test (before your next board presentation)


Before your next initiative launch, your next "we should really...": Does it have a date? Does it have a name attached to it? Does it have a measurable outcome that tells you in 90 days whether it worked?


If not, it's a dream. Dr. Lubelfeld closed the session with the phrase that ran through it all:

"Be about it. Don't just talk about it. That's kindergarten innovation at the highest leadership level."


Two Objections, Handled:


"We've tried cross-sector work before and it didn't stick."


Ask the question Dr. Rick Smith's reframe demands: was it the initiative that failed, or the incentive architecture you were trying to build it inside? If the structure rewards siloed performance, collaboration programs die between fiscal years. Every time. Without exception. The fix is not more buy-in. The fix is redesigning what gets measured.


"We don't have capacity for new partnerships right now."


You are currently paying the cost of every student who falls through the handoff gap. That cost is invisible on your budget and enormous in your outcomes. You don't have capacity to keep paying it. You just haven't calculated it yet.



THE MATURITY SHIFT


Immature leaders treat BANI as a threat to be survived. Mature leaders treat BANI as a design brief for what to build next.

Immature leaders bring students the chocolate cake and ice cream. Mature leaders ask the guest of honor what they actually want — and build the party around the answer.


The difference between a Builder and everyone else isn't talent. It's that a Builder asks: what specifically am I willing to commit to, with a date, by which I can be held accountable? And then answers it out loud. In the room. Before the meeting ends.


Your turn: Name the ONE specific silo your institution will unbuild before December 31. Not a vision statement. A wall, a date, a phone call. Drop it in the comments. Tag the colleague on the other side of the handoff.


If you were in the room on June 3rd — you know who you are. The room was better for having you in it. Drop your one word.


THE TEAM INSTITUTE


Here is the uncomfortable truth the June 3 roundtable made plain: most leadership development programs are designed to make individual leaders better at operating inside broken collective architecture.


You leave the conference sharper. You return to the cabinet. The cabinet is the same. The incentive structure is the same. The silos are the same. Within sixty days, the insight has paid the full translation tax and you are back to managing the same structural problems with marginally better frameworks.


That is not a development failure. It is an architectural one.


What the leaders in the June session were actually demonstrating — cross-sector table-building, student voice integration, faculty summit convening, workforce pipeline creation — is Level II work. It requires a cabinet that has been built for multiplication, not just individual competence. A room where the right questions get asked and held open.


THE TEAM INSTITUTE is an 8-month sequential development journey for full leadership cabinets — not individual leaders, but the collective architecture they operate inside. Built for superintendents and university presidents who have done everything right individually and are ready to build the system that multiplies what they've already built.


From our research across 987 leadership teams in 43 states: 3× performance improvement. 29% higher engagement. 27% better organizational outcomes. Zero burnout increase.


One requirement: full cabinet participation. Partial collective architecture is not architecture. It is a majority position wearing the name of the whole.


If you recognize the gap between your cabinet's individual talent and what they are collectively producing — and you are done explaining that gap as a communication problem — this is the conversation worth having. Schedule a 30-minute consultation: https://calendly.com/higherperformance/30minutecoffee


THE ROOM THAT MADE THIS HAPPEN


The following eleven leaders gave their time on June 3rd voluntarily, without compensation, because they believe the conversation is worth having. Every insight in this issue came from them.


Dr. Michael Lubelfeld · Featured Moderator

Superintendent (retiring June 30, 2026), North Shore SD 112. Author of The Unlearning Leader and The Unfinished Teacher. 2025 ISTE-ASCD Generation AI Fellow. Closed with the session's defining phrase: "Be about it. Don't just talk about it."


Dr. Joe Seabrooks Jr.

President, Cedar Valley Campus, Dallas College. 30+ years in higher education workforce development. Set the session's authenticity tone: resist the pursuit of perfection and be who you are in the moment.


Dr. Rick W. Smith Sr.

President, North Lake Campus, Dallas College. Former hospital administrator 23 years. Delivered the structural diagnosis: silos are the predictable output of how organizations are organized, measured, and rewarded.


Dr. Richmond Hill, Ed.D.

Provost, Woodbridge Campus, Northern Virginia Community College. Built the math faculty summit that became self-sustaining. Named the goal: "The organizer eventually becomes unnecessary.


Dr. Ellen Perconti

Superintendent, Goldendale School District, Washington. Completing a distinguished career June 2026. The session's sharpest readiness reframe: the question is not whether students are prepared for our system — it's whether our system is prepared for them.


Dr. Nathan Schilling

Superintendent, Lansing School District 158, Illinois. Brought the 1973 Mustang frame-off restoration metaphor. Shared his late brother Aaron's story as a testament to the micro-step.


Dr. Yianni Vassiliou

Chancellor, Miami Campus, Albizu University. Named the workforce as the third missing system. Launched four new programs at the intersection of behavioral science, AI, and wearable technology.


Melanie Matta

Superintendent/Principal, Hope Elementary School District, Porterville, CA. Author of Unwritten. Brought student voice to life: surveyed students on what feels like a waste of time, then asked them how to fix it.


Kim LeClaire

Education Advisor & Strategist, Denver, CO. Opened with the essential question: "How do we support the human capacity for creativity?" Closed with the sharpest challenge: name the ONE silo you will unbuild before year's end.


Rick Aulie

Superintendent, Crosby-Ironton Schools, Crosby, MN. First-year superintendent. Navigated 36 staffing changes and won a referendum on the third attempt. The session's most precise illustration of BANI lived — not theorized.


Jason Mantell

Superintendent, Oak Hill Union Local, Ohio. Built a teacher-in program and Ohio's first pre-med/athletic trainer hybrid pathway. His philosophy: "It really hasn't been a battle. It's been an engagement."


JOIN THE AUGUST 5TH SESSION

The next Peer-to-Peer Leadership Roundtable is Wednesday, August 5, 2026, at 10:30 AM CST. Same format. Different room. Eleven more leaders who've decided the conversation is worth having.


If the June session left you poked — if something in the silo-mapping conversation named something you've been carrying — don't just agree with it. The August session is where you come to do something about it.

Register for August 5th: higherperformancegroup.com/p2p-page


FOUND VALUE IN THIS?

Help other educational leaders find it:

→ Repost with your answer to the Builder Test: name the one silo your institution will unbuild before October.

→ Tag a leader you've watched make the cross-sector call — someone who didn't wait for a committee.

→ Comment with one word. If you were in the room on June 3rd, you know exactly what to say.


The more educational leaders who shift from individual development to collective architecture, the better our institutions become.



Follow DR. JOE HILL and Higher Performance Group for weekly Team Intelligence insights.

Looking to Accelerate Your Team Performance in 2026-2027? Check out THE TEAM INSTITUTE. New cohorts now enrolling.


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More Blog Articles

By HPG Info • October 20, 2026
Your cabinet is running on countdown math. The leaders who last the longest stopped counting. Sometime this week, in a cabinet meeting somewhere, a smart and decent leader said the most common sentence in American education: "We just have to get to Thanksgiving." On campus it's "We just have to get through census day." Anyone who has sat in the chair has said some version of it. There's an old story from the prisoner-of-war camps in Vietnam. The men who told themselves, "We'll be out by Christmas," often didn't make it. Christmas came and went, then Easter, then another Christmas, and each missed date took something out of them that never came back. The men who held up best had stopped setting dates. They built their days around what they could do inside the walls, and then they did it again the next day. Your district office is not a prison camp. (Though some of you have sat through a budget work session that came close.) The pattern underneath is the same, and it's quietly running most of the cabinets I work with. We've tied our people's energy, morale, and sense of meaning to finish lines we don't control. Below: why arrival never feels the way it was promised, what one prisoner did every morning for seven years that kept him whole, and a two-minute test that tells you whether your team's biggest initiative is still alive. THE DIAGNOSIS · THE FINISH-LINE ECONOMY Count the "just get to" sentences your team says in a normal year. August to Thanksgiving is about 13 weeks. Then four weeks to winter break, roughly 11 to spring break, six to state testing, and six more to June. That's 40 weeks. You've scheduled the entire year as a waiting room. Higher ed runs the same clock under different names: census day, the deposit deadline, the legislative session, the accreditation visit, commencement. The vocabulary changes. The countdown stays. Inside the cabinet it sounds like this. "Once the strategic plan is adopted, things will settle down." "After November, we can finally breathe." "When the new provost starts, the academic side will calm down." Every one of those sentences borrows today's energy against a date that a voter, a search committee, a legislature, or an accreditor controls. Call it the Finish-Line Economy. A cabinet runs its morale on credit and promises to pay it back on arrival. Arrival never pays in full. People are wired to feel a short burst of joy at a win and then drift back to baseline. Olympic gold medalists are the famous case: a striking number fall into depression within weeks of the podium, because the moment they chased for years lasted about a week. (Your referendum passing is not the Olympics. The Wednesday after looks surprisingly similar.) So the finish line comes, the cabinet exhales for a few days, and someone sets the next one. If you're honest, the last three finish lines you crossed probably didn't feel the way you were promised. We also measure what's easy to measure: the vote, the census count, the test scores, the dashboard. Process doesn't fit on a dashboard, so it gets cut first, even though it's where the learning, the judgment, and most of the joy actually come from. Here's the part that should worry every campus leader. Happiness is easy to mistake for a feeling. Feelings are only the evidence. Underneath, well-being research finds three things you can measure and get better at: enjoyment, satisfaction, and meaning. Among adults under 35, enjoyment and satisfaction haven't dropped. Meaning has cratered. Those are your newest teachers, your youngest faculty, your rising principals and associate deans. Fun was never their complaint. They want to know why the work matters, and a countdown can't tell them. I know the loneliness of being the one who sets the countdown. Everyone in the room is watching you to find out when it gets better, and you're running out of dates. (This is the gap THE TEAM INSTITUTE was built to close. Most leadership development hands the top leader a sharper plan for the next finish line. Across 987 leadership teams , the cabinets that held up under pressure built something different: a shared way of working that makes the work matter on an ordinary Tuesday, whatever the vote or the enrollment number did. A team can learn that. It takes eight months of practice, and I'll come back to it at the end.) TQ IMPLICATION → Finish lines are an IQ product. A smart team can always produce a better plan with a better date on it. Meaning comes from the other two factors. EQ is the shared language that lets a team make sense of a hard week together. PQ is the perceptual accuracy to notice when the room has gone quiet behind the slide deck. TQ = IQ × EQ × PQ. Let meaning drift toward zero and every new plan multiplies into another countdown. So what do the teams that hold up actually do differently? Four things, and none of them requires a retreat. THE FRAMEWORK · COUNT REPS, NOT DAYS Call this Count Reps, Not Days. It moves a cabinet's energy off dates it can't control and back onto work it can. You can teach it to your team in a minute: set a heading, own the reps, name the why, get curious about the detour. 1. Set a heading. Let go of the date. Sailors plot a rhumb line, a straight course from harbor to destination. Every sailor also knows the boat won't stay on it. Wind and current push you off all day, and the line still matters, because it tells you which way to correct. A goal does the same job for a cabinet. "Pass the referendum" is a hope with a date attached. "Hold 40 listening sessions across every attendance area by February" is a heading your team controls. Keep the aim, and stop treating arrival as the reward. (This is why your strategic plan has a gorgeous vision page and a Gantt chart nobody has opened since the board adopted it.) 2. Own the reps. Here's the prisoner I promised you. Facing years as a political prisoner, he made three commitments before he turned himself in. Every day he would do something for his body, something for his mind, and something for his spirit. He prayed with gratitude for whatever was in front of him that day, a strip of sky through the window, a bird going past, and stopped praying for release. He served seven years, much of it in solitary confinement, and walked out without lasting trauma. Prisoners around him who had pinned their hope to a release date were broken by it. A cabinet's reps are smaller and just as daily. One honest debrief after every board meeting. One conversation a week about a decision that went wrong, held before anyone assigns blame. One teaching rep, where a cabinet member walks the team through something they're still learning. (Reps are also the first thing cut from a busy agenda, right after professional development.) Reps do something else most leaders never think about. Your gut is stored experience: every hard call, every mistake, every recovery, filed somewhere below words. Skip the struggle, hand it to a consultant or a chatbot, and ten years later the shelves are empty. Process is what fills the gut your board is paying for. 3. Name the why, out loud, every week. Meaning has three parts. Coherence is understanding why things happen the way they do. Purpose is knowing where you're headed. Significance is knowing why any of it matters. Countdown cabinets talk almost entirely about purpose: timelines, deliverables, dates. Coherence and significance get skipped because nobody put them on the agenda. That's exactly where your under-35 staff are starving, and if we're being candid, so is your cabinet. Ask anyone about the project they loved most in their career. Almost nobody names the biggest win. They name something that may not have worked at all, where a group of people threw themselves at a hard thing together. People remember the doing, with each other, long after they forget the result. 4. Get curious about the detour. When something goes off plan, cabinets tend to say one of two things. "Oh no." Or, "Huh. What's this, and what can we make of it?" The second response is curiosity, and it's far more teachable than most leaders assume. Somewhere between 40 and 80 percent of our emotional wiring is inherited, which leaves 20 to 60 percent shaped by environment. In a cabinet, the top leader sets most of that environment. It helps to treat bad feelings as signals. Fear, anger, and sadness are your brain flagging a threat. They aren't verdicts. And we learn very little when things go well. Nearly all of it comes when they go badly. Zoom out and the pattern gets stronger. Adults go through a major unplanned disruption, a lost job or a lost person or a sudden move, roughly every five years. More than nine in ten people experience it as unwelcome while it's happening and later call it beneficial. Think of a college freshman's first semester: lonely and miserable in real time, and the thing they laugh about at every reunion. The in-between stretch, when the old thing is gone and the new one hasn't arrived, is the most fertile learning time you'll ever get. Most of us spend it waiting for it to be over. THE SEAT YOU'RE IN · TREAT IT AS SCHOOL One more thing before Monday, and this part is for you, not your cabinet. Most careers aren't a ladder. They're a string of four or five distinct careers, and most of us never get told that. When leaders start wondering what's next, they usually ask, "What am I already good at?" That question leads to reapplying old skills in a new building, which feels safe and often goes flat. The better question is, "What am I most interested in?" Interest almost never fails you. Getting there may mean going backward for a while on title, salary, or prestige. Call that tuition. Every step sideways is a return to school, and the leaders who reinvent well are the ones who can enjoy being a beginner again. Some leaders between seats do something older than any search firm. They walk. A long walk, days or weeks, with no agenda except the question. People have done it for thousands of years for a reason: the answer usually shows up on the trail. The same principle builds better cabinets. Nobody is interested in everything. Put people where their interest lives, and let the team cover each other's blind spots. The rules for how to succeed were written for an average person, and there isn't one. That's PQ at its most practical: seeing your people clearly enough to seat them where they come alive. MONDAY MORNING Here's what to do Monday (assuming you're not already counting down to Friday, in which case, start Tuesday): Step 1: Run the Countdown Audit (10 minutes, on your own). Write down every "once X happens" sentence you or your cabinet has said in the last month. Mark each one C if your team controls the date, or H if you're hoping someone else delivers it. If most of the list is H, your team's morale is on loan from people who don't attend your meetings. Step 2: Take the 80-20-0 Reading (15 minutes, next cabinet meeting). This is the test I mentioned at the top. Name your biggest current initiative. Ask each cabinet member to privately write three numbers that add to 100: excitement, fear, and deadness. Deadness is the hollow feeling of picturing two more years of this work and feeling nothing. A healthy reading for anything worth doing lands near 80 excitement, 20 fear, and zero deadness. Some fear is good news, since it means the thing could fail and therefore matters. If fear runs high, your team needs support. If deadness shows up for more than two people, you have a meaning problem, and no new timeline will fix it. (Collect the cards face down. Otherwise you'll get eight copies of whatever the boss wrote.) Step 3: Turn one finish line into a heading (20 minutes). Take one H item from Step 1. Rewrite it as a heading your team controls, then name two weekly reps and who owns each. Open the next meeting by naming the thing on this week's calendar nobody is looking forward to, and what it might teach you. Close it with "why this week mattered." "Our board measures outcomes, not process." Of course it does. Keeping score is the board's job. Yours is running the practice that moves the score, and practice is the only part of the season you actually control. "This sounds soft for the year we're having." A hard year is exactly when finish lines fail you. If the vote, the enrollment number, or the legislature goes the wrong way, a countdown cabinet has nothing left. A cabinet with reps still has Monday. THE MATURITY SHIFT Immature leaders think: "We'll feel better once we get through this." Mature leaders think: "We'll get through this by what we practice every week." Immature leaders set dates they don't control. Mature leaders set headings and own the reps. Immature leaders hear "oh no." Mature leaders ask "what's this?" Immature leaders save meaning for the celebration. Mature leaders put it on Monday's agenda. ❝ A finish line gives your team one good week. A practice gives them the other fifty-one. ❞ ❝ You can't schedule being alive for later. Monday is the only one you've got. ❞ Your turn. What's the "once we get through ___" sentence your cabinet has been saying the longest, and what has the waiting cost you? Put it in the comments. Someone reading this is counting down to the same date. FROM DR. JOE One question before you go. When your cabinet crosses its next finish line, what do you expect to feel the week after? If you've been in the chair a while, you already know. A few days of relief, then the next date shows up and the team starts borrowing against it again. How long has your cabinet been running on that cycle? And what happens to your best people, especially the ones under 35, if the only answer you can give to "why does this matter?" is a date on the calendar? That gap compounds quietly. Strong directors drift toward places that can answer the question. The top leader ends up carrying the meaning alone, and the countdown gets lonelier every year. Now picture the other version. Your cabinet still cares about the vote and the enrollment number, and it has built weekly practices that make the work matter on an ordinary Tuesday. When the finish line moves, that team corrects course and keeps its heart. That's the cabinet THE TEAM INSTITUTE builds over eight months, one practice at a time, grounded in the TQ research behind IQ × EQ × PQ across 987 leadership teams in 43 states: 📈 3x performance improvement 🤝 29% higher engagement 🎯 27% better organizational outcomes 🧭 Zero increase in burnout You don't have to commit to eight months to learn where your team stands. The Team Intelligence Assessment shows how your cabinet thinks, decides, and perceives together, including where meaning is leaking out between the dates. It may tell you you're in good shape. That's worth knowing too. Would it help to see it before your next finish line arrives? Start here: https://www.higherperformancegroup.com/team-intelligence-assessment And if this one landed, pass it to a peer who's counting down to the same date. Repost it with your own "once we get through" sentence, or tag the cabinet member who always asks why. They should know you noticed.  Follow DR. JOE HILL and Higher Performance Group .
By HPG Info • October 13, 2026
Eight principles from superintendents and college presidents across eight states on leading through hard seasons, choosing the right seat, and staying grounded as pressure builds. On October 7, superintendents and college presidents from Alabama, Arizona, California, Michigan, Minnesota, Missouri, Ohio, and Washington gave an hour of the busiest month of the fall to a question most leaders carry alone: What do builders do when the season gets hard? The session was planned around a framework. The room turned it into something closer to group counsel. Leaders in strong seasons stayed to hear from leaders in harder ones, and leaders who had come through a hard stretch explained how they did it. The hour produced eight practical principles worth sharing with others in the same good fight. This paper records what they built: eight principles, the evidence behind each one, and a question for every cabinet in the country to take into its next meeting. EXECUTIVE SUMMARY The superintendency and the college presidency are carrying more weight than at any point in a generation. Superintendent turnover sits well above pre-pandemic norms. The average presidency is nearly three years shorter than it was in 2006. More than one in three superintendents report recent threats. Under that weight, the biggest decisions of a career (stay, step, or leave) usually get made alone, inside the hardest weeks, with nobody checking the read. HPG calls this the Lonely Leader Loop. It's a flaw in how the seat is built, and the roundtable exists to break it. The room produced eight principles: See below. THE CONTEXT · A PROFESSION CARRYING MORE WEIGHT 23% of the nation's 500 largest districts changed superintendents in a single recent year, against a pre-pandemic norm of 14 to 16% 5.9 years is the average college presidency, down from 8.5 in 2006 1 in 3+ superintendents in a national survey said they had recently been threatened or felt threatened 63% said they or people close to them were increasingly worried about superintendents' well-being Resignation is now the largest single category of superintendent departure. Some of those exits are the right call. What concerns me is how the call gets made: at 11:40 on a Sunday night, alone, with the board packet open. From the inside, a hard season and a wrong seat feel identical. You're tired, your patience runs short, and Sunday night starts around 2 p.m. on Saturday. They call for opposite responses. A hard season asks for patience and support. A wrong seat asks for redesign. I know that night from the inside. In 2013, a year after my own superintendency was running at a five, a new board majority and a pulmonary embolism arrived in the same season. My doctor told me I should not have survived. When I recovered, I rode a bicycle around Lake Superior, against medical advice, stopping at every campus and district office along the way to ask what they were proud of. I called it the Persuade Me Tour. I needed someone to persuade me the work was still worth my life. They did. The conversations that started on that ride became THE PROOF, a keynote built on nearly 200 on-camera interviews with K-12 and higher education leaders. It names ten traits of a Builder. The October roundtable worked the first one: telling a hard season from the wrong seat. We opened with a pulse check. On a fist-to-five scale, from a fist for a season knocking the floorboards out to five for never better, most hands showed a mix of responses. That detail matters. Groups of educators tend to gather around the ones and twos, and that empathy, useful for a moment, can keep a colleague in the hole longer. So the room named its good seasons without apology. Then the leaders in strong seasons spent the hour making the path clearer for everyone else. (That is a fair description of what a Builder does.) TQ IMPLICATION → When the season gets hard, most leaders reach for IQ: one more plan, one more credential. The room reached for the other two factors. EQ is the grace to sit with a shortfall without turning it into blame. PQ is the perceptual accuracy to tell a season from a seat, which almost nobody can do alone from inside one. TQ = IQ × EQ × PQ. Let perception drift toward zero and all the intelligence in the building multiplies into a confident wrong answer. (A quick word before the principles. How much of what makes a seat feel wrong comes from a cabinet that passes the weight upward? Across 987 leadership teams, I've watched that pattern make a good leader in the right seat feel like they're in the wrong one. THE TEAM INSTITUTE spends eight months building the other kind of cabinet, one that sees the whole board together. Plenty of seats that feel wrong are simply lonely, and a team can fix lonely.) THE EIGHT PRINCIPLES The roundtable runs on one rule: ideas leave the room, stories stay in it. The principles below are reported without attribution. Leaders quoted by name are speaking from on-camera interviews they recorded for THE PROOF. 01 · A Bad Season Is Not a Bad Calling The first principle came straight from the session question. A hard season and a wrong fit produce the same symptoms: exhausted, discouraged, done. Leaders described how hard it is to tell the two apart from inside the worst week, and how much it helps to say it out loud to someone who has been there. Dr. Rick Cobb , superintendent of Mid-Del Public Schools in the Oklahoma City metro, described a year on THE PROOF that tested him harder than 2020 did. He made no permanent decision from inside it. He stayed, and the year that followed became one of the best of his career. ❝ "The yuck never lasts. When I go, I want to go out on a YUM of a year." ❞ — Dr. Rick Cobb What the evidence adds. Chronic exhaustion tracks a mismatch between a person and the job across six areas: workload, control, reward, community, fairness, and values. Long hours alone predict it far less well. A hard season usually shows strain in one or two areas that can be expected to ease. A wrong seat shows a persistent gap in values or control that rest will not close. For your cabinet: Which of the six areas is carrying the strain on your team right now, and is it the kind that eases or the kind that stays? 02 · The Intentional Step The room spent real time on a move most leaders never consider: stepping sideways, or down a rung, to reach work that fits. Conventional career advice treats a smaller title as a setback. Leaders who had made the move described it as the turning point. They were candid about why it's hard: the blow to the ego, the worry about what colleagues will think, the stretch of not knowing what comes next. Several said the deciding voice belonged to someone close to them who reminded them the choice was bigger than one job or one place. Dr. Amy Diaz, EdD , president of GateWay Community College in Phoenix, told me on camera for THE PROOF that twenty-two years into her career, she recognized her role no longer fit her calling. She stayed in the field, stepped off the ladder, and moved into a different corner of the institution. That step sideways carried her to a presidency faster than the ladder would have. What the evidence adds. Research on professionals who reinvent their careers finds that successful moves rarely follow a plan worked out in advance. People test possible selves through small experiments, new networks, and roles that look like detours, and the new identity becomes clear in the doing. When the calling is intact and the gap is in the seat, a different seat in the same field is often the fix. For your cabinet: Who on your team is in the wrong seat in the right field, and what would a lateral move look like for them? 03 · Performance = Potential − Interference This equation anchors HPG's work. When things get hard, leaders load up on potential: a new initiative, a wider network, another credential. (This is how a strategic plan ends up with four new priorities and zero retirements.) Far less effort goes into naming the friction that drains the week and removing it. The room sharpened the point. Some interference can be mitigated and some cannot. A problem can be solved. A situation can't. Mortality is a situation, and a stakeholder fixed in permanent opposition may be one too. Treating a situation as a problem burns the energy a leader needs for the problems that will actually move. When a leader has done everything in their power and the interference still won't move, the question changes: is my staying helping this institution, or costing it? What the evidence adds. Decades of performance-coaching research point the same direction: removing what blocks people from capability they already have produces larger gains than stacking new capability on top of unresolved friction. Design researchers have a name for the unsolvable kind, gravity problems. When an obstacle can't be acted on, the advice is to accept it as a fact of life and move the effort elsewhere. For your cabinet: List the three biggest sources of friction in your week. Which are problems you can solve, and which are situations you need to stop trying to fix? 04 · Grace Belongs in the Equation A participant added a term the equation leaves out. Leaders who see the gap between their potential and their results need to extend grace to themselves first, then to their teams: sit with the shortfall, accept it, then line everyone back up for students and community. Grace is a discipline a leader practices personally before asking a team to practice it. The room drew a second implication. Every leader at that table makes decisions that change the season of someone else's career. The person who loses a role this year may be leading a campus or a district in ten. Hearing peers describe the decisions that shaped their own careers was, several said, a reminder to keep the human side in view when they are the ones deciding. What the evidence adds. In controlled experiments, people who responded to a failure with self-compassion were more motivated to improve, studied longer after a failed test, and were more committed to repairing a mistake than those who responded with self-criticism. The broader research links self-compassion to resilience without any drop in standards. Grace keeps people in the work long enough to get better at it. For your cabinet: When your team missed its last big target, what did you model first: grace or blame? 05 · A Calling Removes the Need to Prove The word vocation comes from the Latin vocare, to call. Don Killingbeck Jr., C.D.L., Ed.D. , superintendent of Hemlock Public Schools in Michigan, describes his work on THE PROOF as a calling and names what a calling lifts off a leader: the question of what you are trying to prove. Dr. John J. Sygielski 🏳️🌈 , president emeritus of HACC, Central Pennsylvania's Community College, describes the work as changing lives, destinies, and family trees. Nobody performs for a room when they are thinking about family trees. Several leaders described choosing education over more lucrative or prestigious paths, sometimes against the expectations of the people who raised them. Their stories differed. Their conclusion matched: the work pays in the difference it makes, and that payment keeps them in it. I offered the room a distinction between the "me" and the "I." The "me" is shaped by role, upbringing, hometown, and the power structure: where to sit, who to talk to, how to win. The "I" is the self that was called to the work in the first place. Every leader in these seats plays the "me" some, because the work is political. The more often the "I" makes the call, the more freedom leaders report. What the evidence adds. People who see their work as a calling report the highest life and work satisfaction and miss the fewest days of work, even compared with colleagues in the same occupation and pay grade. The risk runs the other way too. A leader who reads a bad season as proof the calling was wrong can walk away from the very orientation that was protecting them. For your cabinet: Which of your current decisions is the "me" making, and what would the "I" decide? 06 · Leave on Your Own Terms Every leader in these seats will leave one day. The room made the case that the how and the when should be the leader's decision as often as possible. An exit can be planned, negotiated, announced in the leader's own words, and handed off with care. Leaders who had done it described relief more than loss, and a stronger position for whatever came next. That choice depends on preparation made years earlier. Advice from a state association mentor, relayed in the room, drew nods all around: pay down debt and build savings early, because boards change and people at home depend on you. A leader who can afford to walk away is free to make the right decision for students while staying. What the evidence adds. Public-sector leaders have a specific advantage. Distributions from a governmental 457(b) plan after separation from the employer are not subject to the 10% additional tax on early withdrawals that applies to 403(b) and 401(k) plans before age 59½. Every leader should consult their own advisors, and the principle holds: financial readiness turns a forced exit into a chosen one. How a leader leaves, and who tells the story, shapes the next role and the institution left behind. For your cabinet: If you had to leave your seat in 90 days, would it be on your terms? What would need to be true for the answer to be yes? 07 · Keep Your Grounding When the Culture Won't Leaders across the country face two pressures that test their footing. The first comes from outside: anonymous public attacks, increasingly assisted by AI, that repackage an institution's own public data to suggest wrongdoing. Strong results offer little protection. The second comes from inside. Long-standing adult habits can drift from the standard a little each year until nobody notices anymore, because it has always been done that way. A leader who names the drift can start to feel like the one who has it wrong. The room's answer to both was the same. Control what you can control. Find a reference point outside the system (a peer, a state association, a coach) who will tell you plainly whether what you're seeing is normal. And remember that protecting students is part of the job. What the evidence adds. Studies of high-stakes organizational failures describe a pattern called normalization of deviance: people inside an organization gradually accept a practice that falls outside the standard because nothing bad has happened yet, until the deviation becomes the standard. Insiders often can't see it, which is why an outsider's reaction matters. National survey data also shows more than half of superintendents reporting more contentious board meetings. Leaders facing this pressure are part of a documented national pattern. For your cabinet: Who outside your organization will tell you the truth when your own culture has started to normalize something it shouldn't? 08 · The Job and the Role I closed with a distinction for leaders weighing whether to stay. The job of a superintendent or president is to make great decisions. The role is culture builder: forging the principles an institution lives by, grounded in a demanding kind of love that fights for the greatest good of everyone the institution serves. If you're driving the right culture forward, press on, hard season and all. If the same interference blocks the role again and again, and the only reason left to stay is a pension milestone, the question becomes: what is it all worth? Leaders who answer that honestly and act on the answer are what I call liberated leaders. Dr. Will Darter, Ed.D , superintendent of Everton R-III Schools in Missouri, put the answer most of us are hoping for in one line on THE PROOF. ❝ "We continuously and relentlessly believe in people. We believe in the places folks forget about. That's where we're called as leaders." ❞ — Dr. Will Darter For your cabinet: Where is your role as culture builder blocked right now, and is it blocked by a problem or a situation? WHAT THIS ROOM DID DIFFERENTLY · FIVE PRACTICES WORTH COPYING They named a good season out loud. Leaders in strong seasons used that stability to listen to peers in harder ones. They tested the diagnosis before acting. Leaders who had come through hard seasons described waiting, testing, and talking it through before making a permanent move. They sorted problems from situations. Energy went to what could be solved. What couldn't be solved was named and set down. They prepared for the exit long before they needed it. Debt paid down, savings built, and a transition planned in their own words. They looked outside for a reality check. Peers outside the system confirmed what a leader inside it was seeing. IMPLICATIONS · BEYOND THE ROOM For superintendents and presidents. Make no permanent decision from inside the worst month. Name your season out loud to one trusted peer first, and build the financial runway that keeps every option yours. For cabinets. A cabinet that can talk about seasons openly, good ones included, gives its leader the perceptual check no individual can supply alone. That is PQ at work, and it is a team capacity before it is a personal one. For boards and trustees. A board that treats a candid conversation about a hard season as a resignation risk teaches its leader to stop having candid conversations. Stability in the top seat starts with a leader who can say "this is a hard season" out loud without it becoming the story. A 35-MINUTE PROTOCOL FOR MONDAY Step 1: Run a fist-to-five (5 minutes, next cabinet meeting). Ask everyone to show where their season stands. Name the fours and fives first. Then meet the ones and twos with grace before plans. (If every hand shows a five in October, somebody isn't telling you something.) Step 2: Run three sorts on your heaviest strain (20 minutes, on your own). Ease or stay? Problem or situation? Me or I? Strain that will ease, problems you can solve, and a choice the "I" would make all point to a season. A persistent gap in values or control, a situation you keep trying to fix, and a choice the "me" is driving deserve a longer conversation with someone outside your walls. Step 3: Calculate your freedom runway (10 minutes, at home). Divide your accessible savings by one month of household expenses. That number is how many months you could go without this paycheck. Then ask whether that number lets you make the right decision for students while you stay. THE MATURITY SHIFT Immature leaders think: "This month is the verdict on my career." Mature leaders think: "This month is data, and I'll read it with someone who's been there." Immature leaders add when it gets hard. Mature leaders subtract first. Immature leaders let the "me" protect the title. Mature leaders let the "I" choose the seat. Immature leaders carry the season alone so nobody worries. Mature leaders let someone outside the walls check the read. ❝ The worst year of a career can sit one year before the best one. Don't let the worst month write the ending. ❞ Your turn. What did the hardest season of your career teach you that the best one never could? Tell us in the comments. Someone reading this in their own hard October needs proof that seasons end. FROM DR. JOE Who do you call when the season gets hard? I mean someone outside your system who has sat in the same chair and will tell you plainly whether what you're seeing is normal. For a lot of leaders the honest answer is nobody, and that gap gets more expensive every year. The pressure from outside is louder. The drift inside is quieter. A leader standing in both can't see either one clearly. What does it cost to make a permanent decision on a read nobody else has checked? Picture the other version: a small table of peers who know the weight without being told, where leaders in strong seasons stay to hear from leaders in harder ones. That's what happened on October 7. The next Peer-to-Peer Leadership Roundtable meets January 6, 2027 , continuing THE PROOF's ten Builder traits. One hour, peers only, capped at 25 seats. You don't need to be in a hard season to come. Some of October's most valuable voices belonged to the fours. Save your seat: https://www.higherperformancegroup.com/p2p-page If this paper helped, pass it to one superintendent or president who should be at that table, and tag a leader above to thank them for the hour they gave. P.S. This month I'm kicking off Operation 100 PROOF: 100 THE PROOF talks on campuses and at conferences over the next 12 months. If a room comes to mind (an opening-day crowd, a board retreat, a state association conference), message me directly or email info@higherperfromancegroup.com . Follow DR. JOE HILL and Higher Performance Group . Data note: Figures are drawn from national superintendent and college president research cited in HPG's October 2026 Executive Brief, Season or Seat. Full sources are available on request.
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