If you asked me what the hardest part of being an administrator is, I wouldn’t say the discipline, the buses, or the paperwork.
It’s the Noise.
In this job, the negative stuff is loud. The angry email uses all caps. The radio call is static and urgency. The student melting down in the cafeteria is screaming.
But the positive stuff? It whispers.
The student who finally learned to read? That happens quietly at a desk. The teacher who had a breakthrough with a tough class? That happens behind a closed door. The parent who is actually grateful? They usually just smile and wave in the car line.
If you aren’t careful, the Noise will trick you. It will convince you that the school is broken, that everyone is mad, and that you are failing.
I learned early on that if I wanted to survive this job with my heart intact, I had to stop listening to the loud stuff and start tuning in to the quiet stuff.
The “Bad Day” Box
I don’t have a fancy filing system. But I do have a drawer.
And in that drawer, I keep the reminders.
- The drawing a 1st grader made of me where I look like a stick figure with a tie.
- The post-it note from a teacher that just says, “Thanks for checking in on me today.”
- The email from a parent that said, “He actually likes coming to school now.”
I don’t look at these every day. But on the days when the Noise is deafening—when I feel like a glorified firefighter just putting out blazes—I open that drawer.
I look at the drawing. I read the note.
It reminds me of the truth: The Noise is temporary. The Impact is real.
You Are Making a Difference (Even When It Rains)
We tend to measure our success by the problems we solve. Did we fix the schedule? Did we handle the fight?
But your real success is measured in the moments you might miss if you’re moving too fast.
It’s the high-five in the hallway. It’s the teacher breathing a sigh of relief because you covered their class for 5 minutes. It’s the student who feels safe enough to tell you a joke.
Those moments don’t scream for attention. But they are the fuel.
The Takeaway
Don’t let the 5% of people who are loud steal your joy from the 95% of people who are grateful.
When something good happens—no matter how small—pause. Let it sink in. Keep the note. Save the drawing.
Hold on to the good stuff. You’re going to need it on a rainy Tuesday, and it will be enough to get you through.