The Authentic Advantage

Leadership is not shaped only by accomplishments. It is shaped by the moments that shake us, unsettle us, and force us to choose who we want to become. Some of my most meaningful growth has come from situations that were uncomfortable, complicated, and far from what I expected. Earlier in my career, I supported someone for a role based on the enthusiastic recommendations of others. I believed I was helping the organization. I believed I was helping a colleague. And I believed the information I had been given was solid. It was not. As time went on, a series of interactions revealed a very different picture. The working relationship became strained, and eventually, the conflict could no longer be ignored. There was confrontation. There were difficult conversations. And there was a moment when I had to be completely honest about the unhealthy dynamic I had been navigating. A Hard Lesson in the Cost of Speaking Up Being honest took courage. It took self respect. But it did not lead to the ...

Last week, I did something I have not always given myself permission to do: I fully unplugged.  I set an away message, made it clear I would only be reachable for true emergencies, and stepped away from the rhythm of leadership for a few days. I took a quick flight to Florida to bring my daughter home for the holidays, and then I allowed myself to slow down, breathe, and simply be present with my family, particularly her.   Those moments, quiet and grounding, reminded me of why stepping back matters.    “Unplugging is not stepping away from leadership. It is stepping back into yourself so you can lead with clarity, courage and heart.”  As leaders, we talk often about balance, wellbeing and boundaries, yet we rarely model them in real time. We stay available even when we should not. We keep solving problems even when rest is overdue. And while our work is important, the relationships we nurture at home sustain our strength, compassion and resilience. Un...

                                                            NYC night out after a long day of workshops--we were being goofy! It is easy to think of governance and leadership as separate lanes—one for policy and one for practice. But when those lanes merge, when a board and superintendent operate as a true governance team, something remarkable happens. Decisions become grounded in purpose, not politics. Now more than ever, collaboration matters. With uncertainties surrounding federal funding, uncertainty from the U.S. Department of Education, and the growing complexity of ensuring equitable access for every student, our shared responsibility has never been clearer. The last few days I was in New York City alongside my entire Board of Education, including our student ex officio member, Alani, attending the New ...

  This past winter, I found myself in the thick of a quiet job search. Not because I was actively seeking to leave my role as superintendent, but because I was curious. I wanted to dip my toes into the waters of possibility and see what was out there. Admittedly, I was frustrated. Leading is hard. And when the pressure mounts and the days get heavy, it’s easy to wonder: Is there something better out there? For anyone who has ever entertained the thought of a new opportunity, whether quietly scrolling job listings or submitting an application in earnest, you’ll know the pull. The question isn’t just, “Can I do something else?” It’s often, “Would something else be easier? Would it make me happier?” During this process, I found some intriguing opportunities. Positions with more money. Jobs with less visibility. Roles with potentially fewer headaches. But as I moved through interview processes and deeper into reflection, one truth became clear: those jobs weren’t better. They were simp...

In a world that often elevates flashy ambition over quiet impact, it’s was refreshing to sit across from someone like Alex Osterhoudt—a recent SUNY Brockport graduate with a degree in Physical Education and an uncommon passion for purposeful teaching who also happens to be my son! Alexander, or “Coach O” as his students affectionately called him during his student teaching at Rush-Henrietta School District, isn’t in it for accolades. He’s here for the kids, and he means that in the most literal, soul-deep sense. And this mom couldn't be more proud. “I want them to want to come back,” he says, eyes lighting up as he recalls returning to his elementary placement after several weeks away. The warm welcome from students—the cheers, the hugs, the handwritten cards—told him everything he needed to know: he mattered. That kind of connection doesn’t happen by accident. It’s built on intention. “I like that I can show kids they can be active and have fun. A lot of them think PE is boring b...

  They say the third time’s a charm. I suppose I’m about to find out. This fall, I’m stepping back into a journey I’ve started twice before.  I am working toward my doctorate in Organizational Leadership. For years, earning my Ed.D. has symbolized the pinnacle of my career. My mentor once said, “Your doctorate is the culmination of everything you’ve worked for, Michelle.” And for a long time, I believed that wholeheartedly. It wasn’t just a goal; it was the destination. But the truth is, it goes deeper than that. I was brought up to believe that the way to get ahead in life was through education. That it was the key to stability, respect, and success. And as a Black woman, that message echoed even louder. The pressure to overachieve and just to be seen as enough has always been there. Do more. Be more. Prove your worth ten times over. Work twice as hard for half the credit. And so I did. Education became my armor. My resume became my shield. I built a life on degrees, titles, ...