The Work is The Work

At the Minnesota Department of Education and Minnesota Association of School Administrators Back-to-School Conference, I was struck by a powerful reflection shared during a panel discussion. One of my respected colleagues from another Minnesota district recalled a moment of frustration when day-to-day distractions seemed to get in the way of what we often consider "the real work." After reflection, his team came to a realization: the distractions are the work.

That statement stuck with me. In my 18 years as a school and district leader, I’ve often found myself juggling major initiatives, strategic planning, or crisis response, only to be interrupted by what feels like small, peripheral issues. But when we pause to see through someone else's eyes, those "distractions" are often the most important thing to them in that moment. And in serving others, that makes it important to us, too.

One story that comes to mind dates back to my time as a superintendent in a smaller district. A nearby homeowner repeatedly expressed concerns about our baseball team warming up too close to his property. Players and fans occasionally crossed onto his land to retrieve foul balls, and he wasn’t shy about voicing his frustrations. At the time, I’ll admit it felt like an interruption. But then I realized: if I wanted the issue resolved, I had the power to help make that happen. I brought it to our Activities Director and Buildings and Grounds Director, and together we decided to install a fence. Problem solved. When I followed up with the neighbor, he was appreciative and agreed to allow foot traffic for foul balls. That conversation never had to happen again.

Why? Because I paused. I listened. I took the time to remember that this issue was the work.

Another example: every summer, our district hosted a marching band during a major regional competition held at Minnesota State University, Mankato. For many, it was a highlight of the season, the sounds of music, community members gathering in the stands, and kids excitedly soaking in the atmosphere. But for one local resident, it was a noise nuisance. Each year, like clockwork, they would visit me at the school, stop me in the grocery store, or catch me at church to share their displeasure.

Finally, one summer, I invited them to my office during band practice. After we talked, I asked them to walk with me down to the stadium. We stood and watched about 50 community members, many of them children, cheering, clapping, and smiling as the band rehearsed. After a moment, the resident turned to me and said, "I guess I can suffer for one week if these kids are having that much fun."

While these are two success stories, I’ve certainly had outcomes that weren’t as successful. But each experience, successful or not, has taught me something new about leadership and helped me grow professionally.

Those moments, like many others, have become gentle reminders: it's easy to get lost in what we define as "priority work," but the true work is people. It's listening. It's responding. It's pausing. It's being present.

So, the next time a "small" concern lands on your desk, in your inbox, or in the middle of your big-picture planning, remember: This, too, is the work.