Here we are at episode 350 of the Smart Thinking Podcast. I never imagined I'd reach this milestone when that teacher in Elkhorn, Wisconsin suggested I start a podcast after my keynote. I honestly thought I'd run out of stories, but life has this cool way of presenting opportunities for those of us in leadership—wait, I mean all of us, because we are all leaders.
The other day, I was talking to a friend worrying about an issue they were facing, and I said out loud: "You will have to fill your brain or it will fill itself with all the weirdness it is capable of creating." They texted that back to me two hours later saying they'd never heard that before. I wrote back, "I've never said it before," because here's the truth—if you don't fill your brain, it fills itself.
This is why we all freak out about the narratives in our heads. It's what causes us to pause instead of charge when storms come our way. Reflection is something we all do, but sometimes that reflection creates more issues because we lack process. Instead, we just perseverate to paralyzation.
In 2001, I became a school administrator at age 30. The very first thing I noticed was the volume of decisions I had to make in one hour and how no one cared that I was new—they just wanted answers. By 8:45 AM on my first day, my head was pounding. I'd been asked at least a million questions in two hours by everyone, and I learned that no one could wait for an answer.
As I grew into my role, I developed a habit after every expulsion hearing, IEP review, or difficult meeting: I would sit in my car for 15 minutes on the drive back and reflect on everything that just happened. Then I'd call Bill, a sage administrator, and ask if I could stop by to replay whatever we'd done together and ask what I could do better or different.
The first time I did this, Bill leaned over and said, "I'm not quite sure what you're asking." I explained: "We just took away a kid's right to a free and appropriate education. I'm wondering if my behavior as a leader was what it was supposed to be. Is there anything I can do different or better next time?"
I did this with everyone—my superintendent, the director of special education, the police chief, the finance guy. Everyone I interacted with, I wanted another interaction with. I was thirsty for knowledge to be a better person, leader, administrator, and colleague.
In February of my first year, I got called into the superintendent's office for my mid-year evaluation. After reviewing my 360 survey results, he said: "I have one feedback and one question. I need you to increase your professional confidence. You have a growing reputation of being insecure and a worrier. You spend a lot of time in this building with senior leaders asking questions, and we're questioning why you do it."
I was stunned. Seven months earlier, this same man had told me some people thought I was overly confident in my interview—too quick to answer questions, seeming like a know-it-all.
I explained: "I'm a learner, a teacher, a coach. I love to study leadership, especially my own. I have a weird level of confidence—I'm far from insecure, but I'm trying very hard to get better. I'm seeking these debriefs to make sure I follow the rules and don't go home wondering if I met expectations."
He smiled, leaned in, and said, "So you're not worrying about your position within the organization?"
"Hell no. I'm trying to be a better leader for my school."
He started laughing: "We thought you were looking for us to help you advance faster within the district."
Then he said something that changed everything: "You're reflecting while being told to curb your reflections. We don't want you to stop."
Five minutes later, the entire executive team stepped into the superintendent's office. He asked me to tell them what I'd told him. I explained how after every meeting, I ask myself: "What went well and where could I have done better?"
An assistant superintendent put her hand on my shoulder and said, "I love it. Look, we have a mirror here—a person who actually studies and reflects on themselves instead of others."
They'd all gotten me wrong. Once we put into context that I wasn't there to advance or trick them but to learn, grow, and help others, it completely changed the conversation.
My principal later said, "You didn't get a lecture? You just don't seem to recognize how all your reflective questions create disruption around the system."
It was a crucial life lesson: even a young assistant principal in a huge system can have influence. I became cognizant that I'm a leader no matter my role or title. I also learned I needed to qualify my wonderings with intent: "I'm asking these questions so I can learn and grow, not to criticize anyone or any decision."
The research is clear on reflection's power:
Enhanced emotional regulation: Structured self-reflection practices improve our ability to regulate emotions, leading to lower stress and greater psychological resilience.
Mental and physical health support: Reflective journaling reduces symptoms of anxiety and depression while improving sleep quality and lowering blood pressure. Why? Because when we put thoughts to paper, our brain allows us to release from the cycles of wonder and worry. Our brain says, "You wrote that down, we've got it cataloged, we can go back to it later."
Strengthened learning and growth: Employees who engage in daily reflection perform 23% better and report higher levels of self-efficacy compared to those who don't.
Reduced burnout: Healthcare professionals who engage in reflective practices report lower burnout levels and higher resilience. If anyone has stress, it's people who work in healthcare, where every decision matters for someone's life.
We need to be intentional about how we launch and end our days. I've created pocket cards—business card size—with morning and evening reflections. You lay them next to your bed and ask yourself one question, rotating through them.
Morning question: "What will I do for others today?"
Evening question: "What did I do well for others today?"
Two to three minutes is all you need to focus and frame your intentional leadership.
Here's where it gets powerful: create stakeholder-led focus groups. Not led by the people doing the work, but by anyone who has stake in your success.
Put together reflective questions that need answers. Have a neutral stakeholder ask these questions with pre-written prompts. Launch with what went well, follow with what we'd do differently next time.
But here's the twist—and this is the Smart Thinking Podcast, so there has to be one:
Principals: Set up a staff meeting with reflection questions, then have students show up to facilitate the questions with teachers in small groups. Have one student with note cards and an adult scribe. Let the student ask the questions.
Talk about ultimate stakeholder accountability. "What could we do different as we approach testing?" with a fourth-grader sitting right there asking the question. The conversation will be completely different because it's focused on who's asking.
Administrators: Ask teachers to give them questions in advance and have teachers ask administrators the questions.
Healthcare: Have patients ask doctors, "What do patients need when experiencing trauma?"
This isn't just reflection—it's building empathy because they'll tell us the answer.
When experts get together without stakeholders, they fill their brains with conversations about others without them present. We talk about "them" and "they" and "we." Our thoughts don't get validated, and we create issues.
Sound familiar? We put ourselves in windowless conference rooms and try to solve problems without bringing in the people who are the problem, or are creating the problem, or we are their problem and don't know how to fix it.
When we do that, we isolate everything in our minds and don't intentionally frame our reflections. We look for blame: "Why doesn't anyone care about me as much as they used to?" rather than asking, "What did I do well for others and how can I support their ownership in the process?"
Here's my announcement: I'm taking this message to a new platform. A few months ago, after making jokes about Alex P. Keaton and Dukes of Hazzard to blank stares from younger colleagues, someone said, "You should go on TikTok."
Starting this week, I'll be posting daily reflections on TikTok—short 30-45 second quotes and reflective questions to get your noggin jogging around leadership. My kids are horrified, which motivates me even more.
Simple format: "Let's do some smart thinking," then a quote, a reflection, and that's it. Search for "CESA 6 smart thinking" on TikTok.
Let me remind you what it means to be a Buffalo leader, because this ties directly to reflection.
A buffalo hears thunder in the distance and turns to face it. She doesn't panic—she recognizes there's a problem coming. The herd spreads out, all facing the approaching storm. They prepare optimistically, knowing no storm exists that they can't get through together.
When they see lightning and hear that crack, they move toward it. When they see the sheet of rain, they gallop—one buffalo goes, and they all go, trusting the collaborative team can do this together.
Buffalo leaders are:
Every moment provides the opportunity to both lead and respond to a storm because storms are always coming. They're predictable. Yet people respond so differently.
The ultimate goal? Move into storms with optimism, then find yourself reflecting on your impact afterward. Why? Because we're all leaders, we're all going to face storms, and we're going to do it together.
Describe your daily practice for reflecting on your impact. List the people you check in with to reflect about you. Identify where you could do stakeholder focus interviews to increase team and organizational reflection.
Remember: there is no storm you cannot get through if you're willing to turn, face it, and run toward it with the wisdom that comes from intentional reflection. That's what Buffalo leaders do—and that's what you are.
Won't you take my hand and shake the world with me?