I was in Oklahoma this week, keynoting a conference for school principals. After the session, a leader pulled me aside to process something happening in his building.
He shared that a group of teachers had decided to stop accepting late work altogether. Their reasoning? A handful of students were abusing the privilege. Assignments were coming in weeks late. Deadlines were being ignored. The flexibility had turned into frustration.
So the teachers made a universal decision: no more late work. For anyone. He paused and then asked me a thoughtful question:
“Do I address just that group of teachers… or do I address the entire staff?”
It was a powerful moment. Because the irony was sitting right there between us. A few students had abused flexibility, so all students lost it. Now he was considering whether to address the entire staff because of the actions of a few teachers. And if we’re honest, this pattern shows up in leadership more often than we’d like to admit.
As he spoke, I was taken back to my time as a high school principal.
I had a few teachers posting inappropriate things on social media. Nothing criminal. Nothing headline-worthy. But certainly not aligned with the professionalism we expected in our building.
Instead of addressing the few, I addressed everyone. I stood in front of the entire staff and talked about professionalism and social media responsibility.
And it did not go well.
Teachers who had done absolutely nothing wrong felt lumped in. Some of my strongest supporters felt unfairly accused. The very people who modeled professionalism every day walked out of that meeting feeling questioned.
My intent was Clarity. The impact was distrust. And that’s the danger.
When we correct the many for the actions of the few, it’s rarely malicious. It usually comes from a good place:
We want to send a clear message.
We want consistency.
We want to regain control.
We want to prevent something from spreading.
But often, addressing everyone is a way of avoiding addressing someone.
Having a direct conversation with one person—or a small group—requires courage. It requires specificity. It requires discomfort. Standing in front of a large group and speaking in generalities feels safer. But safer doesn’t always mean better.
When we use universal correction as a tool for compliance, a few things tend to happen:
High performers feel lumped in.
The teachers who are doing it right begin to feel unseen.
Trust erodes.
People begin to wonder, “Why am I being corrected for something I didn’t do?”
Responsibility gets diluted.
The few who actually caused the issue may not even feel directly accountable.
Culture takes a hit.
We trade relational capital for temporary control.
And here’s the truth: compliance is not culture. Culture is built on clarity, accountability, and trust.
So what could that principal in Oklahoma do? And what could I have done differently? Here are a few thoughts.
If a small group of teachers changes a late work policy in a way that may harm students, have a direct conversation with that group.
Ask questions.
Seek understanding.
Clarify expectations.
If a few staff members misuse social media, coach those individuals specifically. Clarity is kindness. And specificity builds trust.
Before changing a policy or addressing the entire organization, ask:
Is this a system problem… or a behavior problem?
If a few students abuse flexibility, the solution may be stronger accountability for those students—not eliminating flexibility for everyone. If a few adults make poor choices, the solution is Coaching and clear expectations—not broad public correction. Systems should not be overhauled to manage isolated behavior.
Imagine that principal asking the teacher group:
“What’s the impact on students who genuinely need flexibility?”
“Are we responding to frustration, or are we solving a root issue?”
“How do we maintain accountability without removing compassion?”
Questions move people from reaction to reflection. And reflection is where Growth lives.
Instead of publicly correcting the whole, publicly reinforce the good.Highlight teachers who manage deadlines with both structure and grace. Celebrate professionalism. Recognize those modeling the standard.
We don’t build culture by shaming. We build culture by reinforcing.
At its core, this isn’t about late work or social media. It’s about leadership courage.
What hard conversation are you avoiding? Are you correcting the many because it feels safer than coaching the few?
Leadership isn’t about controlling everyone. It’s about guiding someone. And when we choose courage over convenience, we protect what matters most—trust. Because once trust erodes, it takes far more work to rebuild than it ever did to preserve.
Let’s not trade long-term culture for short-term compliance. Let’s lead with clarity, accountability, and intention. That’s the road to something better. That’s the Road to Awesome.
If you’re a regular listener of the Leaning Into Leadership podcast, you’ve probably already heard me talk about my friends at HeyTutor.
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What really sets HeyTutor apart is that they handle the heavy lift. They recruit, train, hire, and manage tutors as HeyTutor employees, so districts don’t have to scramble to find staffing or manage another system. Their curriculum and platform tools also make it easy for schools to track student growth through an accessible dashboard for tutors and teachers.
If your district is looking for tutoring support that’s structured, scalable, and built for impact, HeyTutor is worth a look. You can learn more about their work at heytutor.com.
Make sure to tune in this week to the Leaning into Leadership podcast where I’m sitting down on location talking about recapturing human connection with my friend Joe Beckman.
