The Principal’s Back-to-School Tightrope: Exhausted and Exhilarated

The days leading up to a new school year are a strange mix of marathon and high-wire act for a public school principal. While the rest of the world might imagine these summer weeks as “downtime,” those of us in the role know it’s anything but.

This is the season of planning, problem-solving, and preparing to set the tone for the year ahead while juggling a dozen competing priorities that all feel urgent.

Every morning, I start with the big picture: How can we improve student outcomes this year? What changes in instruction, supports, or structures will make the most difference for our kids? Then the day plunges into the logistical trenches: reworking master schedules, hiring staff during a national teacher shortage, and making sure every classroom has the right furniture, materials, and technology. Add in safety protocols, professional development planning, ensuring our building’s climate (both literally and figuratively) is ready to welcome staff and students, and the “to-do” list that takes on a life of its own.

It’s stressful. It’s exhausting. And yes, there are days when the magnitude of it all feels overwhelming. But the truth is, this season isn’t just about pressure it’s also about small victories that refill my energy tank.

It’s the relief and joy of seeing returning teachers walk through the doors, ready to start again. It’s the easy laughter of catching up with colleagues who have become more like family. It’s hearing about graduates who are thriving in high school, college, or careers, and knowing our work helped them get there. And it’s that moment, just before the first day, when the halls are clean, the floors are shining, and the school stands ready like a promise waiting to be kept.

In these final weeks before the first bell, I find myself walking that familiar line between exhaustion and exhilaration. Tired to the bone, yet propelled by the conviction that what we’re about to do matters deeply.

This year carries an extra layer of meaning. My daughter is beginning her own journey as a certified special education teacher, stepping into the profession in a state whose approach to public education differs from my own. She will be working in a place where educators are more openly respected, professionally trusted, and compensated in ways that reflect the weight of the work they do every day. I began my own career in that same state, at a time before shifting political currents reshaped public education into something markedly different from what it once was.

I never imagined that education would be the path any of my children would choose, and yet here she is drawn to the students who need patience, advocacy, and belief the most. I know, without hesitation, that she will be extraordinary for the students with special needs she will serve, showing up with empathy, skill, and unwavering commitment.

And still, it is bittersweet. I know the demands she is stepping into. I understand the emotional labor, the long hours, and the moments of doubt that come with this work. But I also trust her to do her best, to find and use her voice, to advocate for her students, and to remain grounded in the reasons she chose this path in the first place. She is entering this profession with clarity, courage, and heart and that gives me both comfort and hope.

Here at our own campus, my team has come together with renewed purpose. Our new staff, a mix of experience and background, are getting settled. Our returning staff, are adjusting to the many changes this year will bring. It feels like a true rebirth for our middle school. We are making an energizing commitment to our students and to our mission: to ignite curiosity, unite our community, and empower every learner who walks through our doors.

Here’s to another year on the tightrope balancing the weight of the work with the joy of the mission.