When I reflect on what it means to be a Head of School, I often feel that it is both a privilege and a profound responsibility. What makes this position so unique is the vantage point it provides. Sitting at the apex of the school umbrella allows me to see and influence every layer of the organization: from the individual experience of a single child to the broader programmatic choices that shape how learning unfolds, and even to how we design the buildings and facilities that will support education years into the future.
Each day, I collaborate with people who are focused on distinct aspects of school life: teaching and learning, student wellbeing, operations, finances, advancement, facilities, and community partnerships. These conversations rarely exist in isolation. Rather, they intersect in ways that constantly remind me of the complexity of schools as living, breathing ecosystems. The fun of being a Head of School lies in working with all of these voices and weaving them together into a coherent vision.
At the heart of that vision is a steady infusion of values and beliefs. For me, one guiding principle is that my bias in decision-making must always fall in favor of the child. This sounds simple, even obvious, yet in practice it is anything but. Schools constantly navigate competing pressures: financial realities, timelines, resource constraints, and the sheer pace of daily decision-making. It is easy, in the swirl of competing demands, to lose sight of the simple but essential question: What do we want a child’s experience to be?
That question is what keeps me grounded. It helps me pause and ask, again and again, in every decision, whether large or small, what is the kind of environment and experience we want for our students.
What has surprised me most in this role is how often leadership is less about the technical aspect of decision making and more about the social influence of our decisions. In fact, running a school often feels like conducting a series of ongoing social experiments, where perception, emotion, and relationship intersect with technical realities.
Let me give you an example. This week, as we opened our new academic building, some parents expressed serious concerns about air quality. Objectively, every measurement was negligible and well below Canadian and international health standards. Technically, the issue did not exist. But the concern was real, because parents felt it was real.
As I tried to address the upset, my role was not simply to present the numbers. It was to weave together the technical facts, the parents’ perceptions, the political context, and the interpersonal relationships— all of which mattered. Leading through situations like this requires holding those threads together and braiding them into a response that not only addresses the issue at hand but also builds trust and strengthens partnership. This is where the work of the Head of School is most complex and, I would argue, most important.
The role for me, then, is a constant balancing act, between the immediate and the long-term, the technical and the human, the practical and the aspirational. It is challenging, yes, but also endlessly rewarding. I am learning from it every day. To be Head of School is to live at the intersection of vision and detail, to hold the broad umbrella view while never losing sight of the single child standing beneath it. It is this duality, the big picture and the individual conversations, that makes the role so extraordinary, and why I love the work so much.
Dr. Cinde Lock us the Head of School of Pickering College in Canada.