Earlier this week, I told you about my Grandpa Ralph (the sailor who survived Pearl Harbor).
What I didn't tell you was how he died.
Years after the war, after a long career as a Chicago cop, Grandpa had a heart attack.
In the hospital, a doctor pulled my mom aside to give her some serious advice. Ralph needed to quit smoking immediately if he wanted to protect his heart and live longer.
The doctor was emphatic. He understood the science. He could articulate the consequences. He made it crystal clear what needed to happen.
The whole time he was giving this life-or-death advice to my mom?
Doc was smoking a cigarette.
That story stuck with me.
Not because it's absurd (though it is).
But because of what it reveals about leadership.
That doctor KNEW the right thing to do. He had all the expertise. He could make a compelling case.
But when it came to actually living it? He couldn't walk his own talk.
How often do we do this as school leaders?
We tell teachers to differentiate instruction while we deliver the same tired faculty meeting agenda each month.
We preach work-life balance while sending emails at 11 PM.
Subject line: URGENT!
We demand data-driven decision making while making gut calls about hiring and budget.
We ask teachers to build relationships with difficult students while we avoid the challenging staff member.
We implement new initiatives while defending "the way we've always done things" in our own practices.
We demand excellence from others while accepting mediocrity from ourselves.
Real leadership isn't about what you say in the faculty meeting.
It's about what you do when nobody's watching.
It's about whether your actions match your words.
It's about being the model you expect others to follow.
The veterans we honored this week didn't get to pick and choose which parts of their service they'd honor. When the bombs started falling at Pearl Harbor, my grandfather couldn't say "I'll sit this one out."
When chaos erupted in Chicago during the 1968 Democratic Convention — when tear gas filled the streets — he couldn't decide not to show up. He had my mom deliver him lunch because he refused to leave his post.
He lived his commitments. All of them. Even the hard parts.
That's the standard.
So here's what I'm asking myself this week:
Where am I like that smoking doctor?
Where am I asking others to do things I won't do myself?
Where is there a gap between what I say and what I do?
Because if I'm going to lead a school, a team, or even my own family — I owe them more than good advice.
I owe them a model worth following.
What about you?
Where's the gap?
Danny
PS … This isn't about being perfect. It's about being honest. About closing the gap between who we say we are and who we actually are. That's where real leadership lives.
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