Letting Go of Perfection

I am keenly aware of the fact that I am far from perfect in my role as an educator.  As a teacher, I am good on many days, but very rarely great.  As an instructional coach, I am good on many days, but very rarely great.  However, I often feel pressured to be better – perhaps perfect – because I hold a leadership position.

In a recent Progressively Incorrect podcast, host Zach Groshell interviewed Richard Wheadon, an educator who “…recently made the unusual decision to step down from senior leadership and return to classroom teaching…”  There were many phenomenal take-aways from the podcast, but the one that landed and has stayed with me is the notion that you don’t necessarily have to have been the best teacher to fill a leadership role.

Wheadon describes the day-to-day struggles that teachers face, including realities like not being able to use the restroom.  This fact almost seems trivial, but it is not at all.  Truly, classroom teachers are “locked in” for the day with either the same group of students or new groups of students rotating in every hour or so, with little to no time to take care of basic personal needs.  This alone might be enough to make one less able to meet the high demands of 25+ students who rely on us to manage the classrooms they are part of whilst making frequent in-the-moment decisions so that everyone has the best learning experience possible.

Wheadon also describes the reality that teachers face of a disruptive student who needs to be removed from the classroom.  In these situations, a teacher needs to make a call to administration for assistance.  While waiting for administration to arrive, teachers are in a tricky spot.  They are waiting to proceed with the lesson, but are at the mercy of the administrator who will be able to make that happen.  It was fascinating to hear Wheadon describe this, as he formerly was the administrator trying to make it to classrooms in a timely manner.  Now, he’s back in the classroom as the teacher waiting for that administrator.

Richard Wheadon is a class act.  What a meaningful way to gain perspective… not to mention some credibility as both an administrator and a teacher.  He is most definitely staying grounded in reality.

As an instructional coach, this is no longer my reality.  The description above and the conversation between Groshell and Wheadon, though, do remind me about why I have angst about some day returning to the classroom.  I very much want to stay grounded in the reality and difficulty of day to day classroom instruction, and I do recognize that the best way to do that is to BE in the classroom, solely responsible for all that goes with it.

However, I am thankful for the opportunities that instructional coaching provides:  time to work with students and teachers implementing evidence-based practices without the constraints that a classroom teacher endures.  Additionally, instructional coaches are arguably better positioned to impact systems and systems-level work.  This is difficult and imperfect work, but wholly worth the effort when leaders are willing to dive in, make mistakes, recognize the years of work ahead, and that there will not be perfect solutions to creating a cohesive and impactful system.

No matter the position we hold, we don’t have to be perfect.  Wheadon does an amazing job of shedding light on this reminder… and I’m not even sure that was his intent!  At the same time, I always enjoy these two reminders:

   

Letting Go of Perfection and Writing

This same notion – not needing to be perfect – holds true with everything we do.  This blog would never have been published had I waited for perfection.  It is never going to be perfect, though I wish it were.  I’ve often written about the difficulty of finally hitting the “Publish” button each week, knowing that I’m putting my writing, which I’m never satisfied with, out there for others to read.  I continue to work at it, though, because as I often mention, maintaining this blog helps maintain the original goals attached to it:

1.  Document my learning journey as a teacher, coach, and student
2.  Improve my writing craft through reflection
3.  Act as a producer rather than a consumer
4.  Push my thinking
5.  Connect with others
6. Advocacy of literacy for all (added October 2025)

Letting Go of Perfection and Running

Speaking of letting go of perfection.. this past weekend was full of letting go.  We spent the weekend in St. Louis, where our three sons and two of our nephews ran the St. Louis Marathon.  You might say there was nothing perfect about this ordeal:  it happened as a result of a bet made on a cold January night, perhaps under the influence of alcohol.  😉

Our youngest son, Emmett, proclaimed that he could run a marathon without training, to which is brothers and cousins responded with guffaws and criticism.  In a short amount of time, a bet was wagered.  If Emmett completed the marathon and beat his oldest brother, Elton, Elton would have to wear a dress to the Sweet Corn Festival (a local small-town festival) in August.  If Elton beat Emmett, Emmett would have to get a tattoo of Elton’s name… on his behind.

The imperfect training for the others ensued, where they made valiant attempts to get plenty of pre-marathon miles in, but fell short of recommendations for such an endeavor.  The imperfect non-training ensued, where Emmett enjoyed his normal day-to-day activities, free of the training obligation.

As race day got closer, this mother (and aunt) felt anxiety move in.  I became incredibly nervous for the boys and began to have visions of blisters, broken bones, calls for medical care, and incomplete marathons.  Far from perfect and healthy thoughts, I’m still learning to follow the sage advice:

April 11, 2026 arrived, with five imperfect but determined young men ready at the start line.  Oh… and I got to be there, too, as a 10K runner.  I felt a little intrusive as I waited with those guys, but I was so happy to be there and hear the back-and-forth between all of them, which included (very half-hearted) plans to run a marathon every year in major cities, rotating the role of not training beforehand.

I stuck with those guys for the first mile-and-a-half or so, then pulled away to run my 6.2 race and let them settle in to their 26.2 mile race.  Throughout my run, I was reminded of the imperfections of runners:  we spit, we blow snot, we cut each other off (accidentally!), and we STINK!  But we do it anyway, because the rewards outweigh the imperfections.

After finishing the 10K, I was able to join my husband, Bill (who acted as chauffeur, advice-giver, cheerleader, and fixer-of-all-things) and the racers’ cheerleaders (wives, fiancés, and girlfriends) to cheer on those marathoners.  At the Mile 14 marker, we cheered our hearts out, as we watched 4 of the 5 of our marathoners jog by.  We were saddened to see that Nathan wasn’t with them; he was experiencing leg pain and had fallen behind.  When Nathan made it to the 14 mile marker several minutes later, he was walking… and we were worried.  Imperfect.

We continued to track our runners digitally, making plans to be at the finish line to (fingers crossed and prayers sent!) greet each of them.  Our runners came in with some impressive finish times:

• Isaac Steffensmeier:  3 hours, 39 minutes
• Elton Kruse:  3 hours, 53 minutes
• Owen Kruse:  3 hours, 55 minutes
• Emmett Kruse:  4 hours, 19 minutes
• Nathan Steffensmeier:  5 hours, 9 minutes

Each runner was exhausted.  Each runner was humbled.  Each runner vehemently committed to “Never doing that again.”  Perhaps an imperfect promise, but an understandable one, for sure!

Although this post is about not being perfect, I can’t help but mention several things that did seem to be quite perfect about the whole experience:  the weather was phenomenal all day (51 degrees at the start of the race, an optimal temp for marathoning, all five young men FINISHED, the event was incredibly well-organized, our Airbnb accommodations were stellar, and we topped our night off at Busch Stadium with a Cardinals game.  They lost… so perhaps back to imperfect, depending on your team preference!

Oh, and as for that bet:  let’s just say that there will be an imperfect tattoo of his brother’s name forever-etched on the derriere of Emmett Reed Kruse very soon.