There are certain moments in leadership that stay with you.
One of mine happened during a Thrive review visit several years ago. A member of staff was asked to describe our school.
I wasn’t part of the conversation, but later she told me what she had said: “I have never worked anywhere like this, where it’s okay to not be okay. We can have a cup of tea – that’s our code for not being okay – and no one judges you. We get to know each other’s prickles and step in for each other when needed.”
Years later, I can still hear her saying it.
Emotional work
As headteachers, there are lots of things we hope people will say about our schools. We want them to talk about the quality of education, the relationships, the opportunities we provide for children and the impact we make. Yet, of all the things that could have been said that day, those words meant the most to me.
We were not trying to create another wellbeing initiative. We were trying to create a culture where people felt safe enough to be honest about how they were really doing. The truth is that education is emotional work.
We carry children’s stories home with us, we worry about families, we sit in safeguarding meetings that stay with us long after they have finished. We support staff through difficult periods in their lives. Often while trying to manage our own challenges at the same time.
Most of us don’t talk about that very often, we just get on with it. For years, I thought leadership meant carrying all of that.
If someone was overwhelmed, I stepped in. If a team was struggling, I took on more. If there was anxiety in the organisation, I absorbed it.
I believed that was what good leaders did. Looking back, I can see that while it came from a place of care. But it wasn’t always healthy. Eventually, I learned that there is a difference between supporting people and carrying everything for them.
If I’m honest, I didn’t always get this right. It’s much easier to tell other people that it’s okay not to be okay, than it is to admit it yourself. Like many leaders, I had become very good at carrying things, perhaps too good.
Turning point
A particularly difficult period in my career forced me to confront reality. Within a matter of months, our organisation experienced significant trauma. There was a serious incident involving a child, a suspension, investigations and, later, the devastating loss of a young person we cared deeply about.
The impact on staff was immense. The impact on me was equally profound.
Looking back, I spent months in a state of what I now describe as ‘dealing and not feeling’. I focused on navigating the organisation through the fog because that’s what I believed leaders did.
Keep moving, keep solving problems, keep everyone else afloat. If I’m honest, I wasn’t ignoring my own feelings deliberately, I just didn’t think there was time for them.
Anyone who has led a school will recognise that feeling; you arrive at work carrying yesterday’s problems before today’s have even begun.
Authentic leadership
It was during that time that I began to understand what vulnerability in leadership really means. Not oversharing, not losing confidence, not having all the answers, simply being honest enough to acknowledge when things are hard.
One of the most important lessons I learned was that people don’t need perfect leaders, they need authentic ones.
As an organisation, we became much more intentional about how we supported each other. We developed wellbeing training, explored compassion fatigue, increased opportunities for reflection and focused heavily on relationships.
We reminded ourselves that connection matters, especially during difficult times. But, perhaps more importantly, we gave each other permission to be human. That was where the phrase ‘It’s okay not to be okay’ really came from. Not a slogan, but a belief.
A new school culture
Over time, staff became better at recognising not only their own signs of stress, but those of their colleagues. We became more aware of when somebody needed support and were more willing to step in before they reached breaking point.
One experience stands out more than any other. Following a particularly traumatic event, I was sitting at my desk trying to process what had happened. I couldn’t think clearly; my emotions were all over the place.
A colleague came into the room, she looked at me and asked a simple question, “What do you need?”. In that moment, I realised something important. The culture we had spent years building no longer depended on me, it had become part of who we were.
The support, compassion and understanding that we had worked so hard to give to others came back towards me when I needed it most.
As leaders, we often see ourselves as the people doing the holding. What I learned is that healthy cultures create spaces where the leader can be held, too. I still believe it’s okay not to be okay, not because we lower expectations or make excuses, but because schools are full of human beings doing emotionally demanding work.
Sometimes, the most important thing a colleague can do isn’t offer a solution. Sometimes, it’s simply putting the kettle on, sitting down beside you and reminding you that you don’t have to carry it all on your own.
Gemma Quantrill is Headteacher at Woodend Farm School, Witham, Essex.
