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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By HPG Info June 2, 2026
Most educational leaders treat summer like a reward. The hard semester is over. The pressure recedes. You sleep past 5:30. You read the book that's been on the nightstand since February. Here's what's actually happening: the window is open. And it closes in August. Not the window to rest — though that matters too. The window to change the system before the system reasserts itself. The window where the cabinet conversation that was too costly in March is finally affordable. The window where the collective architecture your team is missing can actually be built — because the pressure that prevented it has temporarily lifted. Most leaders don't use it that way. They recover. They recharge. They do the planning work August demands. And then September arrives and the same cabinet meetings run the same way with the same undercurrents and the same results — and the cycle that felt exhausting in May feels exhausting again by November. The leaders whose cabinets look different in the fall didn't get lucky. They made a decision in June that most of their peers deferred until it was too late. (Summer is six to eight weeks. The window is not hypothetical. It is a specific, finite, expiring resource. What you do with it is the most consequential leadership decision you'll make this year — and it's one almost nobody talks about at the end-of-year celebration.) Summer isn't a break from the work. It's the only window where the work can change. The Diagnosis: Four Questions Summer Actually Answers Let's talk about this like adults who've survived another budget cycle, another round of strategic planning that felt more like strategic performing, and another year of being the most capable person in every room you walked into — while quietly wondering why that didn't feel like winning. Every June, campus and district leaders get something rare: a partial exhale. The calendar clears (somewhat). The urgent cools (slightly). And four questions — the ones that don't survive cabinet meetings — finally surface. Most leaders let them surface, sit with them for a week, and then bury them under August planning. This year, I want to name them. Because each one is a diagnostic. And each one points somewhere specific. Question 1: Why does my team still feel like eight individuals sharing a calendar? This is the Team Intelligence question. And it's the one that should stop you cold — because if you're honest, you've been developing your people for years. Conferences attended. Books read. Retreats held. Coaches hired. (At least one offsite where someone drew on a whiteboard for four hours and everybody nodded.) And yet the cabinet still operates like eight separate fiefdoms with a shared agenda. When something breaks, people retreat to their portfolio areas. When pressure spikes, collective thinking narrows to whoever's in the room with the most authority. The decision that should take one meeting takes three — because nobody has the shared architecture to close it. Here's what 987 leadership teams taught us: the gap isn't talent. The average cabinet in our data has more than enough IQ. What it's missing is the shared operating system — the collective architecture that turns eight excellent individual contributors into a team that genuinely multiplies. TQ = IQ × EQ × PQ. When any dimension approaches zero, the equation collapses. And in most cabinets, it's not individual capability that's failing. It's the collective intelligence infrastructure that was never built in the first place. (This is precisely what the TQ Assessment was built to surface — not your individual leadership scores, but your team's collective intelligence baseline across team performance and leadership competency. 57 questions. About 8 minutes per member. A debrief with Dr. Joe that finally names what everyone in the room has felt but couldn't diagnose. More on that in a moment.) Question 2: Why do my people leave every professional development investment and come back exactly the same? This is the translation tax question. And it's one of the most expensive things happening in campus leadership right now — not because individual development is wrong, but because individual development in a team-level role is structurally insufficient. You send your VP to a conference. She comes back energized. She has new language, new frameworks, a renewed sense of purpose. And then she walks into the cabinet meeting and — nothing. The system absorbs her. The meeting runs the same way. The decisions happen the same way. The nods mean what they always meant. The translation tax isn't about your people. It's about the infrastructure gap between what someone learns alone and what an entire team can deploy together. If you've been paying for professional development that doesn't survive contact with your cabinet culture, the problem isn't the development. It's the collective architecture; it has nowhere to land. Your team can't multiply what it was never taught to hold together. Question 3: My people are burned out — but calling it 'burnout' doesn't feel right. What's actually happening? This is the Burnout Force question. And it's the one most educational leaders misdiagnose — because what they're seeing isn't classical burnout. It's something more specific, more structural, and actually more solvable. Our research identified seven distinct forces operating in learning-based organizations right now. Seven separate dynamics — each with its own signature, its own antidote, and its own Monday-morning protocol. Your people aren't simply tired. They're being acted on by specific forces that have specific names. And once you name them, you can do something about them. The reason this matters in summer: the leaders who come back to school in August still running on empty aren't failing at self-care. They're operating in organizations where the forces were never named, the antidotes were never deployed, and the culture never built the structural conditions for sustainable high performance. Question 4: Is there anyone I can actually talk to about any of this? This is the loneliest question. The one that doesn't make it to performance reviews or strategic plans or even most conversations with people who love you. AASA named it directly in their most recent research: the loneliness at the top of educational leadership is structural, not personal. It's not a character flaw. It's what happens when the most consequential decisions you make every year are made by a person who has no peer — no one in the same seat, carrying the same weight, who doesn't need you to translate the complexity before offering a thought. The private sector solved this problem sixty-five years ago. Peer advisory networks for executives aren't a perk. They're a performance infrastructure. Education is still pretending that the regional administrator network is a substitute for something far more specific and far more confidential. The Framework: The Summer Architecture Decision Here's what I've watched the highest-performing leaders do differently in summer — not as a rigid plan, but as a decision architecture. Four moves. Different scales. All of them available. I'm going to be direct about what HPG offers here because the four questions above map onto four specific entry points, and it would be dishonest to name the questions without naming the paths. If the answer to Question 1 is keeping you up at night: Start with the TQ Assessment. Let me tell you about a superintendent I'll call Priya. (Not her real name — but Priya, if you're reading this, you know exactly who you are, and so does your CFO, your CAO, and the assistant superintendent who stayed after the debrief to say she finally felt seen by a framework.) Priya led a district of 14,000 students with a cabinet of seven people she genuinely respected. Strong individuals. A decade of collective experience. And results that were — fine. Consistently fine. Comfortably fine. The kind of fine that wins regional awards and masks a 60% performance ceiling that nobody has the courage to name. When Priya's team took the TQ Assessment, the debrief produced something she described as "the most useful 90 minutes of professional development I've had in 12 years." Not because the scores were revelatory. Because for the first time, the team was sitting in a room looking at shared data about their shared reality — not individual performance reviews, not 360 feedback that everyone privately discounts, but a collective diagnostic. The scores surfaced what everyone had felt: strong on Communication and Execution, critically low on Alignment and Capacity. The team could do things. They couldn't decide things together. That single diagnostic changed how they ran every meeting for the next academic year. The TQ Assessment takes about 8 minutes per team member. The debrief with Dr. Joe runs about an hour. And it produces a baseline that makes every subsequent development investment dramatically more precise — because you finally know which dimension you're actually trying to move. Start here: https://www.higherperformancegroup.com/tq-assessment — the right place for every cabinet to begin. If the answer to Question 2 is the one that won't let you go: The TQ Advantage Workshop. One room. One session. 2.5 hours. Your entire cabinet leaves with a shared operating system — five Champion Types mapped and named, Monday-morning protocols they run without you, and the translation tax gone. Not because they learned something new. Because they finally have a common language for what they already know — and a structural framework for deploying it together instead of separately. The TQ Advantage Workshop is built for cabinets that are done tolerating the gap between what their people are capable of and what the collective system allows them to produce. It's a 2.5-hour intervention, not an 8-month commitment. And the research shows it consistently produces results in the first week — because the translation tax doesn't survive a team that has a shared framework. 94% of teams are still running HPG systems 12 months after engagement. The industry average is under 30%. The difference isn't the quality of what we teach. It's that your team owns the system — because they built it together in the room. Reserve a date: higherperformancegroup.com/team-intelligence If the answer to Question 3 is what your staff most need heading into next year: The Burnout Force. Seven forces. Seven antidotes. One 60-minute keynote for your full staff — not just the cabinet. On-site or virtual. The kind of session that changes what people say to each other in the hallway on the first day back. Here's what makes The Burnout Force different from every wellness initiative your district has already tried and quietly forgotten: it doesn't treat exhaustion as a personal failing. It names the specific organizational forces producing the specific symptoms your people are carrying right now — and gives every person in the room a protocol for fighting back that doesn't require a personality transplant or a three-week sabbatical. (Most burnout interventions treat the symptom. The Burnout Force names the force. Your people don't just feel better after the session — they understand what was operating on them. That understanding is the antidote.) Schools that open August with a shared vocabulary for what's happening to them are different schools. They catch things earlier. They name what they're seeing. They don't wait until November to admit that something is wrong. Book the keynote: higherperformancegroup.com/burnout-force If the answer to Question 4 is what you actually came here for: The GROUP. Let me describe a moment most educational leaders know, but almost none will say out loud. You're driving home after a board meeting that went fine. The numbers held. Nobody called on a Friday. By every external measure, you're succeeding. And you have nobody — not one person — you can call right now to say: here's what it actually cost me this week. Not your spouse, who has watched you carry it long enough that the weight has become invisible to both of you. Not your cabinet, who needs you to be the one with the answer. Not the regional network, where everyone performs their best version of okay because the wrong person might be in the room. The GROUP exists for that drive home. Ten education executives. Same role — superintendents, assistant superintendents, college presidents, VPs and provosts. Fully confidential by design. Facilitated personally by Dr. Joe every month. Two and a half hours where the real conversation finally gets the depth the conference hallway never does. The founding cohort launches July 2026. Ten seats. $299 per month — locked for life for founding members. Your first month, including an NLP Discovery Session with Dr. Joe, is complimentary. 75% of senior educational leaders get zero outside peer advisory. The private sector solved this sixty-five years ago. What Vistage is for private sector CEOs — this is for the leaders who've been doing it alone for no good reason. Request your seat: higherperformancegroup.com/thegroup Four questions. Four paths. One decision: whether this summer becomes the hinge point or just another gap between school years. The Application: Three Moves Before August Before the moves — one question worth sitting with. If this summer looks exactly like last summer — recovery, planning, August arrival, same cabinet, same patterns — what does September cost you? Not abstractly. Specifically. The meeting that will cycle for the third time. The initiative that will launch into a cabinet that performs alignment without owning it. The conversation that will be deferred again because the year is already moving. Calculate that number. Then decide if summer is actually the luxury you can't afford — or the investment you can't afford to skip. Here's what to do this week: Move 1: Name the question that's actually following you home. (5 minutes) Of the four questions above — Team Intelligence, Translation Tax, Burnout Forces, Loneliness at the Top — which one did you feel first? Not which one is most professionally urgent. Which one hit you personally before you could manage it professionally? That's your entry point. Not the one that sounds most sophisticated. The one that felt true before you could intellectualize it. Write it down. Give it a name. That question is doing you a favor — it's pointing at the specific gap in your architecture that summer can actually address, if you let it. (The leaders who don't do this come back in August with the same system. The leaders who do it come back with a specific problem and a specific path, which turns out to be enormously different.) Move 2: Run the 60-second TQ audit on your cabinet. (While you still have summer distance.) Rate your cabinet on each TQ dimension from 1 to 10 — not their individual competence, their collective performance in that dimension: IQ (individual knowledge and strategic thinking working as a shared resource): ___ EQ (emotional and communication intelligence operating as a shared language): ___ PQ (perceptual accuracy about what's actually happening in the room): ___ Now multiply them. Not add — multiply. TQ = IQ × EQ × PQ. If any dimension is below a 5, you just found your constraint. And no amount of individual development — conferences, coaching, strategic retreats — will move a multiplication problem by improving a single factor. The whole equation has to move. (This is why 987 teams across 43 states have produced the same pattern: 3x performance improvement comes from moving the collective architecture, not the individual capabilities. The math isn't metaphorical.) Move 3: Schedule the one summer conversation you've been avoiding. (Before September makes it impossible.) Every leader has one conversation that should have happened in Q2 and didn't. Not because it wasn't important. Because the year was moving too fast to have a conversation that might temporarily destabilize something before everything else was resolved. Summer is the window. The cabinet member who's in the wrong seat. The pattern in your leadership team that everyone sees and nobody names. The structural decision about your own role that you've been deferring because the timing was never right. The timing will not get more right. August is six weeks out. Name the conversation. Put it on the calendar. Have it before the system re-pressurizes. Two Objections, Handled: "I don't have time in summer to add a development initiative." You're not being asked to add an initiative. You're being asked to make a decision — about what happens in August with a team that has either a shared system or doesn't. The TQ Assessment is 8 minutes per team member and a 90-minute debrief. The TQ Advantage Workshop is 2.5 hours. The Burnout Force keynote is 60 minutes. The GROUP is two and a half hours a month. The cost of not doing any of them is not zero. The cost is September — the 3.5-hour cabinet meetings, the initiatives that die between VPs, the decisions that cycle endlessly because no one has the shared framework to close them. "We tried team development before and it didn't stick." What specifically didn't stick? The insight or the infrastructure? Most team development fails not because the content was wrong but because it was delivered to individuals inside a collective system that was never changed. Everyone got smarter. The cabinet meeting stayed the same. 94% of teams running HPG systems at 12 months. Under 30% industry average. The reason isn't better content. It's that your team builds the system in the room — which means they own it, which means it runs when you're not there. That's not a claim. That's the data from 987 teams. The Maturity Shift Immature leaders think: "Summer is recovery time. I'll recharge and come back ready." Mature leaders think: "Summer is the only window where the system can actually change. I'll use it." Immature leaders think: "My team is talented. If they had the right framework, they'd be performing." Mature leaders think: "My team has the talent. What they're missing is the shared architecture. And I'm the one who has to build the conditions for it." Immature leaders think: "I'll address the hard conversation in August when we're all back." Mature leaders think: "August is when the conversation becomes impossible. Summer is the only window where honesty is still affordable." Immature leaders think: "Leadership development is a line item in my budget." Mature leaders think: "Collective architecture is the upstream resource for every other investment I make. Without it, I'm multiplying by zero." The leaders who transform their cabinets don't find more time. They find the window that's already there — and they decide before it closes. Your turn: Which of the four summer questions is the one you've been managing instead of solving? Name it in the comments. Not the organizational answer — the honest one. Tag a superintendent or president you've watched come back in August fundamentally different from who they were in June. Those leaders exist. They didn't get lucky. They made a decision in the summer window. Name them. They deserve to know you noticed. THE TEAM INSTITUTE — For Leaders Ready to Build the Architecture Everything above this line is the diagnosis. THE TEAM INSTITUTE is what happens when you decide to actually close it. Not a program. Not a workshop series. An 8-month sequential development journey for your full leadership cabinet — built around the principle that collective architecture doesn't get transmitted, it gets constructed. Month by month. Together. In your specific context, with your specific team. 3x performance improvement. 29% higher engagement. 27% better organizational outcomes. Zero burnout increase. One requirement: full cabinet participation. Partial collective architecture is not architecture. It's a majority position wearing the name of the whole. If seven of eight show up, the eighth person's absence teaches the other seven that commitment is optional. If you've read this far and felt the specific ache of a cabinet that hasn't yet become what it's capable of becoming — that ache is not a character assessment. It's a structural diagnosis. And it has a structural solution. If there were a way to build the collective architecture your cabinet is missing — without another retreat that returns eight brilliant people to the same broken system — would that be worth exploring? Schedule a 30-minute discovery call: https://calendly.com/higherperformance/30minutecoffee?month=2026-06 This is a conversation between people who are done tolerating the gap between their cabinet's talent and what the collective system actually produces — and done paying for development investments that return brilliant individuals to a collective architecture designed to neutralize exactly what they just built. Found Value in This? Help other leaders find their summer window: → Repost with your answer to the maturity shift: which version of "immature" have you been living this year? The leaders in your network need to know they're not alone. → Tag a superintendent or president you've watched use summer as a genuine turning point. Name what changed for them. → Comment with the one summer question that hit hardest — and what you're going to do about it before August. The more campus leaders who stop treating summer as recovery and start treating it as architecture — the better our institutions become.  Follow DR. JOE HILL and Higher Performance Group for weekly Team Intelligence insights.
By HPG Info May 25, 2026
Note: Your team already knows the answer. Here’s a diagnostic question nobody asks at your strategic planning retreat: When was the last time your stated values cost someone something real? Not a performance conversation. Not an awkward pause in a hiring debrief. An actual consequence — a hire you didn’t make, a promotion you delayed, a departure you initiated — because someone violated the culture, not the metrics. Take a moment. Search your memory. I’ll wait. If you’re struggling to name the instance — not because it was so long ago, but because it genuinely hasn’t happened — then you don’t have values. You have wallpaper. Beautiful, professionally designed, consensus-approved wallpaper. Run a word cloud on the stated values of 500 K-12 and higher ed institutions right now. Integrity. Respect. Excellence. Innovation. Equity. Community. The six most expensive words in educational leadership. Expensive because they cost nothing to claim and prove nothing when violated. Meanwhile, the highest-performing organizations outside education built something structurally different. Their lesson isn’t philosophical. It’s architectural. And the gap between what they built and what most institutions call a values exercise is costing your institution more than your last three failed strategic initiatives combined. The villain here is not your character or your cabinet’s. It’s what happens — reliably, predictably, across 987 leadership teams in 43 states — when values live in the lobby instead of the decision architecture. The Diagnosis: When Values Become Performance Art The décor model is predictable. An institution convenes a committee, runs a facilitated process involving Post-it notes and enthusiastic nodding, and produces a list of virtues nobody could argue with. Respect. Integrity. Innovation. All free. All harmless. All useless as architecture. The problem isn’t the words. It’s what happens next — which is nothing. Values get a design treatment, go on the wall, and actual decisions continue being made by what has always made them: budget pressure, political relationships, and the preferences of whoever has the most tenure and the least accountability. (You know that person. They were in your last cabinet meeting. They’ll be in the next one.) Here’s the diagnostic question that matters: When did your values last make a decision before you did? The pattern across our research is consistent. Institutions with performative values frameworks operate at a fraction of their collective ceiling. Not because the people lack conviction — they don’t. But because when the person who most visibly undermines the stated culture keeps getting promoted, your team doesn’t conclude the values were ambiguous. They conclude the values were theater. And they adapt — rationally, efficiently, quietly — to the system that actually exists. Not the one on the wall. (This is the structural villain THE TEAM INSTITUTE addresses — not by teaching better values, but by building the architecture that makes values operational at the cabinet level. More on that in a moment.) Here’s what makes this urgent: your best people — the ones with options, the ones whose departure would sting — figured this out faster than you did. They’re not disengaged. They’re in values triage. Sorting signal from performance. Deciding how much of themselves to invest in a culture they can’t yet verify is real. What Load-Bearing Values Actually Look Like The highest-performing organizations outside education didn’t stumble into values clarity. They engineered it. And in every case, the thing that made their values real was identical: consequences built into the architecture. Netflix: Adequate Performance Gets a Generous Severance Package That single line — published in Netflix’s culture document, viewed over 20 million times, called by Sheryl Sandberg the most important document to come out of Silicon Valley — is the most load-bearing value statement in modern organizational history. Not because it’s harsh. Because it’s honest. Netflix built the Keeper Test. Managers ask one question, regularly: if this person told me they were leaving for a comparable role elsewhere, would I fight hard to keep them? If the answer is no, Netflix doesn’t wait for performance to deteriorate. They offer a generous severance and open the seat for someone who earns a yes. The question for your cabinet: would you fight hard to keep every direct report? At Netflix, that answer has a documented consequence. At most institutions, it’s just a thought that happens on the drive home. Southwest Airlines: Warrior Spirit, Servant’s Heart, Fun-LUVing Attitude Southwest receives a job application every two seconds. They hire fewer than 2% of applicants. Before any skills assessment, they screen for exactly three things: Warrior Spirit, Servant’s Heart, Fun-LUVing Attitude. Not aspirational nouns. Behavioral filters, observable in a group interview — in how you treat the receptionist when you think no one’s watching, in the story you tell about a time you failed, in whether you laugh at yourself or perform competence. Their motto: hire for attitude, train for skill. Because you can train someone to load a plane. You cannot train a cultural misfit into a high performer. And Southwest measures all three values in annual performance reviews — not just what you produced, but how you produced it. The diagnostic question: do your stated values appear in your hiring rubric, your performance evaluation, or your promotion criteria? If the answer to all three is no — you built values for the lobby, not the institution. Zappos: We Will Pay You to Leave After completing their first week of training at Zappos, new employees received a check to quit. Tony Hsieh eventually raised it to $4,000. Less than 1% took the offer. That’s the point. The check wasn’t designed to thin the herd. It forced a conscious declaration. People who turn down $4,000 to stay are actually here. Everyone else is just present. There’s a difference. Your cabinet can feel the difference in the first fifteen minutes of a cabinet meeting. Hsieh fired people performing their jobs well if they were corrosive to the culture. The question for your institution: have you ever let a genuinely talented person go because of a values call alone? If the honest answer is never — you haven’t yet tested whether your values are real. Patagonia: We Told Our Customers Not to Buy Our Product Black Friday 2011 — the highest-revenue retail day of the year. Patagonia ran a full-page ad in the New York Times: “Don’t Buy This Jacket.” The ad detailed the exact environmental cost of producing their best-selling R2 jacket: 135 liters of water, 20 pounds of CO₂, two-thirds of its own weight in waste. Then asked consumers to think before buying anything new. Revenue grew 30% in the nine months that followed. Not because the ad was clever — because people recognized something rare: an organization that actually means what it says. Patagonia told customers not to buy their product and grew 30%. Because the only thing rarer than an organization that means what it says is the person who doesn’t notice when one finally shows up. The question for your institution: would you take the institutional equivalent of that position? A costly public stand, at an inconvenient moment, because your values demanded it? If that’s hard to even imagine, your values haven’t been tested enough to know if they’re real. The Team Jersey Principle In sports, wearing the jersey means something. It’s not a costume. It’s a declaration of accountability to a shared standard that exists independent of your mood on a given Tuesday. The most impactful leaders don’t just comply with institutional values — they wear them. They reference them in hard conversations. They invoke them when it’s inconvenient. They make the call nobody would hold them to — and they make it anyway. Herb Kelleher worked baggage handling the day before Thanksgiving — busiest travel day of the year, in the rain — because the Warrior Spirit wasn’t a poster to him. Patagonia’s founder eventually gave the entire company to a climate trust. Not a PR move. A leader who decided the jersey was worth more than the equity. The diagnostic question: would your cabinet describe you as someone who wears the institutional values — or someone who administers them? The gap between those two descriptions is the cultural altitude your institution is currently operating at. What HPG Just Did We completed our own 2026–2027 values exercise — the real kind. What we landed on:
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