Mistakes Are Inevitable. Recovery Is Leadership

I struggle sometimes with the tension of how I can be so critical of poor leadership while also advocating for empathy, growth, and grace. It’s a real tension—and one I think is worth exploring honestly.

The truth is: I don’t expect perfection. Not from myself, not from my students, and not from my leaders.

In fact, I think that’s one of the most damaging myths about leadership—that good leaders don’t mess up. They do. We all do. And mistakes? They’re not the red flag. What matters is what happens after the mistake.

Years ago, I placed a catering order at a grocery store deli for a birthday party. When I got home, I realized part of the order was wrong. I called the store, and the employee I spoke with was so apologetic and gracious. He offered to fix the issue and even deliver the missing items to my home for free. I was impressed—not by the mistake, but by the recovery.

Later that day, I stopped by the store again and made a point to praise that employee to his manager. I wanted her to know what an amazing job he’d done. But her response? A cold, dismissive:
“Well, a mistake should’ve never happened in the first place.”

And that’s when it hit me: that manager didn’t understand leadership. That employee was the example of professionalism, maturity, and grace. The manager was stuck in a petty, rigid mindset that saw mistakes as failure instead of as opportunities for repair, growth, and even loyalty.

That same principle is at the heart of everything I believe in as a leader.
The mistake is not the betrayal. Denying it, deflecting it, or punishing others for noticing it—that’s the betrayal.

We tell kids that honesty matters. That accountability matters. That when you mess up, the best thing you can do is own it and make it right. Why would we hold adults to less of a standard than that?

Leadership isn't about doing everything right the first time.
Leadership is about how you recover.

Len Goodman, one of the old judges on Dancing with the Stars, once said something that stuck with me forever. He said he doesn’t judge the dancer on their mistake—because mistakes happen. He judges how they recover. That’s what reveals their professionalism, their experience, their poise.

That is leadership.

So when I speak up about toxic behaviors and systemic dysfunction, it’s not because I expect flawlessness. It’s because I expect leaders to care enough to repair. I expect them to show up with humility, not ego. I expect them to model what they ask of everyone else: accountability, courage, growth.

We all mess up. We all miss the mark. The difference is in how we respond. Demanding accountability isn’t about badgering someone into submission. For me, it’s rooted in scaffolded compassion—a restorative act that invites reflection, repair, and growth. Accountability becomes the doorway out of the echo chamber of our own sorry rooms—the ones where no light gets in, where we can’t grow. And extending grace isn’t a pass.

Accountability and grace are partners.

I’ll keep striving to lead with both. AND keep naming, honestly, the impact of their absence or misuse.