I’ve always been careful about what my staff sees of me. I believed that as a leader, appearing composed and in control was part of my responsibility … until that boundary no longer seemed possible. I recently faced a serious personal health issue that required me to take time off work for treatment and recovery.
Typically, I work hard to maintain a firm boundary between my personal and professional lives, carefully curating the public persona I put forward. This health crisis forced me to make intentional choices about how I would navigate transparency as a school leader, balancing what my staff deserved to know with my need for privacy around the most personal aspects of my care.
This was hard for me for several reasons. One was the vulnerability and exposure that transparency demands. Another was the fact that, once I disclosed my diagnosis, I had no control over how people would respond.
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I knew I would have to allow people to demonstrate care for me in ways I usually deflect by relying on myself rather than on others. To borrow a stock phrase, I was going to have to let people love me.
This felt like a reversal of my usual approach as a leader. Normally, I am the one providing guidance, direction, and reassurance. Here, I had to lean on others. In doing so, I saw how transparency can strengthen relationships rather than weaken authority.
When I spoke with my staff, I shared the diagnosis, prognosis, and upcoming leave. I acknowledged some of the unknowns. Then, I carried on, business as usual. Though it initially made me feel uncomfortable, my disclosure allowed staff to manage their emotions and expectations. It gave them the opportunity to show care and concern, and I had the opportunity to accept that while I am their leader, I am also a human navigating challenging and sometimes unpredictable circumstances.
As I went through pre-op appointments, surgery, and post-op care, I valued the transparency and honesty my surgeon provided. From the start, our interactions were collaborative, which shaped my approach to recovery.
Hierarchy exists in both doctor-patient and school leadership relationships. My trust in my surgeon shaped my post-operative experience; in turn, it made me reflect that collaboration does not erase hierarchy, nor should it. Although my surgeon’s expertise was essential to my care, the hierarchy in our relationship did not require distance or secrecy. I trusted her because she treated me with care while maintaining control and staying within her lane of expertise. In education leadership, a similar model of care can foster strong school culture and morale.
As I experienced my surgeon’s head-on clarity and genuine attention, I was reminded how such interactions can have a ripple effect in leadership. Just as my surgeon’s clarity allowed me to feel grounded and capable, my transparency with staff created space for them to respond to my news confidently.
I always aim to provide staff with insight into strategic decisions while maintaining the boundaries of my expertise. In this instance, I shared the timeline and reason for my leave but did not involve staff in every medical detail. They did not need that level of information to continue to provide classroom support to students.
Trust is a cornerstone of any leadership role, built through confidence, competence, and the quality of personal interactions. I am naturally inclined to multitask and prioritize efficiency, but being a leader has required me to practice giving my full attention to the person in front of me. My surgeon’s attentiveness reinforced for me how much that attention fosters trust. Just as her focus strengthened my confidence and recovery, the deliberate attention I give to staff—listening, observing, and responding—directly shapes their morale, engagement, and effectiveness. School leadership, like medicine, is relational as well as technical.
Being a patient reminded me that leadership is not about control; it is about creating conditions for trust and collaboration to thrive. Transparency and respect for boundaries do not weaken hierarchy. They allow those we lead to show up fully, just as we hope to show up for them.
