From Caution to Connection: Rethinking How We Lead in Schools

By George Schinarakis

In a recent conversation with a colleague, I was particularly struck by something she said: how often frustration in schools escalates into formal grievances. It’s a dynamic many of us recognize. That moment when a small concern, something that could have been resolved through a conversation, suddenly becomes a grievance. We’ve all witnessed it. And if we’re honest, we’ve probably all felt it too. The fear, the tension, the sense that everyone is walking on eggshells.

There is, undeniably, a growing atmosphere of fear in our workplaces. Staff worry they won’t be protected, administrators fear being grieved, and that tension often stands in the way of real solutions and open communication.

You can sense it the moment you walk into a school. The environment is carefully structured -you’ll immediately notice the layers of policies, procedures, and protocols, walls covered with posters about safety, HR policies, equity statements, reminders about conduct, harassment, fire drills, allergy protocols, mental health supports. Each one is important. Each one says, “We’re taking care of you.” But together, they also send us another message, “Be careful.”

And it’s not just in schools. We see the same culture all around us. It’s in our building’s elevator, in our doctor’s office, in our banks, stores. Everywhere we go, we’re surrounded by warning signs and liability statements. Over time, this culture of legal protection unconsciously shapes how we move, speak, and interact. And gradually, this mindset affects our professional relationships, making us focus more on protecting ourselves than connecting with others. We live in a culture of caution, and that reality is increasingly difficult to ignore.

Of course, rules and policies are essential. They serve important functions. They establish clarity, consistency, and safety. But they have also begun to shape our interpersonal dynamics and the way we interact—often with hesitation and defensiveness. We’ve become conditioned to expect confrontation or liability rather than collaboration and trust.

In schools, where the work is personal and the pressure is high, this tendency can gradually damage trust. Staff may hesitate to speak up, afraid their concerns will be misunderstood or used against them. Leaders may avoid addressing small issues, worried they'll be misunderstood. Even among colleagues, it can feel safer to stay silent than to risk saying the wrong thing. So, instead of having open conversations, we end up keeping records. Just in case.

This culture of caution and fear is often even stronger in schools for deaf students, where expectations around safety are higher and can lead to stricter rules and more formal processes.

This is the reality many of us are navigating. And while policies and formal processes remain necessary, we must begin to ask: When does it help to follow the formal route, and when is it better to simply sit down and have a conversation?

What if we made more space in our schools to ask questions like that together? Not to ignore the rules, but to shift how we use them. To say, "How can we protect each other and still stay connected as people?" Because a lot of conflict could probably be avoided with one honest conversation, early, and face-to-face.

When we rely too much on formal processes or use them the wrong way, they consume valuable time and resources, and they hurt the way our schools work. They pull us away from what matters most: teaching and learning.

As leaders, we have the opportunity -and the responsibility- to set the tone. We can encourage a culture where reaching out is seen as a sign of strength, not a risky step. We can model that leadership isn’t about being on guard, but about being open. Our roles require not just procedural competence, but emotional courage. We’re here to create space for hard conversations, before they become formal ones.

This work is not easy. But it is essential. It begins with small, brave steps, conversations that remind us all that we’re human before we’re our roles.

Let’s ask ourselves and each other: What kind of culture are we building in our schools? Do we invest in building trust, or just managing risk? What would it look like if we led with connection instead of fear?