The Administrator’s Favorite Color Was Five



In the Twin Cities and across the nation, public education has been plagued by what can only be described as passionate incompetence. This phrase captures the disconnect between good intentions and ineffective outcomes. Over the past five years, administrators have rolled out initiative after initiative, promising transformation: new literacy models, equity frameworks, technology rollouts, social-emotional curricula, and testing reforms. Each was championed with passion, urgency, and rhetoric about “student-centered change.” Yet, despite the energy and resources poured into these programs, the results are precise: proficiency rates remain stagnant, achievement gaps persist, and families, teachers, and communities continue to feel the weight of systems that do not deliver. Passion without competence is no solution, and the failures of these past half-decade reforms demonstrate that schools cannot afford more recycled promises dressed up as innovation. What is required now is competence, rooted in data, equity, and sustainable practice, rather than another cycle of passionate but ineffective initiatives.

By Don Allen - JOABT 

Five weeks into the 2025–2026 school year, the warning signs are no longer subtle; they're screaming from every hallway, classroom, and staff meeting. And yet, our site leaders, the very people entrusted to guide, support, and protect the integrity of our schools, remain stuck in neutral.

We are witnessing a phenomenon I call passionate incompetence: the well-meaning but ineffective performance of leadership that feels deeply, but functions poorly. It's no longer enough to say the right words at the right times. It’s not enough to be visible at the school carnival or send out a weekly newsletter with quotes from educational theorists. Authentic leadership demands decision-making, accountability, and courage in the face of hard truths.

Right now, those truths are unavoidable. Teachers are overwhelmed. Students are unanchored. Parents are frustrated. And communities, many of which have stood by public education through challenge after challenge, are losing faith. Why? Because the people in charge have allowed behavior management to override learning priorities. They’ve permitted short-term optics to replace long-term solutions. Most damaging of all, they’ve let the culture of “just getting by” take precedence over the mission of helping every child thrive.

We were told this year would be different. That we had “learned the lessons.” That site leadership was “ready to lead through change.” But here we are, five weeks in, and the buildings are buzzing not with learning, but with tension. Teachers are burning out in real time. Students are being defined by their disruption, not their potential. And staff who raise valid concerns are often met with silence, dismissal, or worse, thinly veiled gaslighting.

The structural foundation of any successful school is organizational health. That means clear expectations, systems that support staff, and leadership that listens, adapts, and acts. But many of our schools aren’t healthy right now; they’re simply surviving. That’s not a culture. That’s a crisis.

Even worse, the language of equity, meant to open doors and individualize support, has been co-opted into an excuse for inconsistency. “One size fits one” was never supposed to mean "everyone does whatever they want." It was meant to challenge systems to fit better, not fall apart. Individualization without structure is not supported; it leads to chaos.

And that chaos is starting to feel like policy.

The administrator’s favorite color was five.

That’s the absurdity we’re dealing with: decisions that don’t align with reality, responses that don’t match the need, and strategies that feel as arbitrary as naming a number when asked for a color. We’re calling dysfunctional leadership, and we must stop.

It is not enough to sympathize with the challenges of the moment. We need site leaders to take action. That means confronting unacceptable behaviors without allowing them to derail learning. That means empowering teachers with tools and time, not just more tasks. That means building systems that work for students, not just those that work around problems.

We need clarity. We need consistency. And we need courage from those at the top of each school site. Leadership is not defined by how much you care; it's defined by what you do when the stakes are highest.

If the people currently in charge cannot rise to that challenge, they must step aside.

Because our students, educators, parents, and communities deserve schools that work. And schools that work require leadership that leads.

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