Protecting Your People Doesn’t Mean Protecting Them From Accountability
Uncorking leadership, learning, and the conversations that move schools forward.
I work in education. Which means I work in bureaucracy.
There are policies.
Processes.
Approval chains.
Forms to request the form you actually need.
And occasionally, a rule that makes perfect sense to everyone except the people who actually have to implement it.
I’ve learned something after years of leading teams:
Sometimes your job is to be the buffer.
Recently, I have found my armor scratched and pitted from all the battles I have been fighting. If you know me, I won’t let that last very long. I already replenished my red lipstick stash, bought several pairs of heels, and dropped off my dry cleaning.
When a system is creating unnecessary noise, confusion, or burden for my team, I don’t believe good leadership means forwarding the email and saying:
“See below.”
Nope.
Sometimes I need to ask the question. Push back. Make the phone call.
Say, “Help me understand why we’re doing this.”
Or simply:
“No. My team isn’t doing that.”
And if advocating for my team burns a bridge?
Well.
I have matches.
We ride at dawn.
But Don’t Get Too Excited
Before my team reads this and starts forwarding me every email that annoys them…
There are terms and conditions. 😂
I will go to bat for my people.
But you better come correct.
Because protecting your team does not mean defending bad decisions, poor preparation, missed responsibilities, or behavior that doesn’t meet the standard.
Sometimes protecting you means telling the person outside our team:
“I’ve got this. I’ll handle it.”
And then closing the door and telling you:
“Okay. Let’s talk about what you did.”
Those two things can coexist.
In fact, I think they should.
Protection Isn’t Permission
There’s a difference between protecting your people and protecting people from consequences.
One builds trust.
The other destroys accountability.
If my team made the mistake, we’ll own it.
If we missed something, we’ll fix it.
If someone’s feedback is accurate, we’re going to hear it—even if we don’t particularly enjoy hearing it.
I expect my team to be prepared, thoughtful, responsive, and professional.
And because I hold them to that standard, I can stand beside them with considerably more confidence when something isn’t fair.
My credibility when I say “This isn’t okay” depends partly on my willingness to also say “We got this one wrong.”
That’s leadership.
Sometimes You Are the Shield
The higher you rise in an organization, the more access you have to rooms your team isn’t in.
Use it. Don’t let your people fight battles you’ve been given the position and authority to fight for them. That is just rude.
Don’t send bureaucracy downhill simply because it arrived in your inbox.
Translate it. Challenge it. Absorb what doesn’t need to travel.
And when necessary, stand in front of your people and say:
This one comes through me.
Then make sure you’ve built the kind of team worthy of that protection.
A team that owns mistakes.
Tells the truth.
Fixes what needs fixing.
And comes correct.
Final Sip
I want my team to know two things about working for me:
I will tell you about yourself.
And…
Nobody else gets to treat you any kind of way.
Those aren’t competing leadership philosophies.
They’re the same one.
I care enough about you to hold you accountable.
And I care enough about you to stand up for you.
So yes, we’ll follow the process.
We’ll be professional.
We’ll document appropriately.
We’ll attempt diplomacy.
We’ll build relationships.
We’ll preserve the bridge whenever we can.
But if protecting my people requires standing firmly on the other side of one?
🔥 I have matches.
We ride at dawn.
🍷 Sip Wisdom: Your team should never have to wonder whether you’ll stand up for them. They should also never have to wonder whether you’ll hold them accountable.