Holding Space for Anxiety and Still Moving Forward

Today was not a planned moment. It was not on the agenda. It was not part of a polished staff meeting slide deck. But it was exactly what we needed.

In the middle of everything that comes with this time of year, state testing, fatigue, behavior consistency, and the quiet pressure to show growth, we paused and pulled the team into an impromptu circle. Just a check-in. Nothing formal. Just space.

And what unfolded in that circle said more about our school than any data point ever could.

There was appreciation. Teachers spoke about their grade level teams and how much they rely on each other right now. There was recognition for an incredible resource teacher who continues to show up in ways that matter. There was pride in a strong first week of testing.T here were celebrations, including a Teacher of the Year chosen by peers, which always means a little more.

But alongside all of that, there was honesty.

Real, unfiltered honesty.

Health updates. Family updates. The emotional weight of a colleague resigning earlier than expected. The quiet courage of a young instructional assistant stepping up to take on that open teaching role.

And woven through almost every share was one word: anxiety.

Anxiety about testing. Anxiety about students and whether we are doing enough. Exhaustion from staying consistent with adolescent behaviors day after day.

No one tried to fix it. No one rushed it.

We just held space for it.

And here is what struck me most.

Even with all of those emotions sitting in the room, it did not feel heavy in a way that pulls you down. It felt human. It felt connected. It felt like a team. There was laughter. There were smiles.There was clapping.There were head nods that said, “I see you.”

That does not happen in every school.

In a turnaround setting, especially one that has had to rebuild trust from the ground up, moments like this matter more than we can measure. Not because they solve everything, but because they show us where we are.

Teachers felt safe enough to share. They openly appreciated one another. They encouraged each other without being prompted.

That is culture.

That is climate.

That is growth.

It reminded me that anxiety is not the problem. Silence is.

When people feel like they have to carry everything alone, that is when schools start to fracture. But when a team can sit in the discomfort together and still find moments of connection, something shifts.

We are not perfect. We still have a lot of work to do. But we are doing the work.

And more importantly, we are doing it together. We are showing up for each other. We are showing up for our students. We are pushing through the pressure of this season with a shared commitment to make fourth quarter the best it can be.

Days like today are heavy. But they are also the reason I keep going. Because in the middle of the pressure, the uncertainty, and yes, the anxiety, there is still a team choosing to lean in, not pull away.

And in a turnaround school, that is not just progress.

That is a win for kids.