The Work You Don't See: A Thank You to Administrators Everywhere
- Rhiannon Dunn
- May 15
- 8 min read

The Work You Don’t See: A Thank You to Administrators Everywhere
My purpose behind Savoir Learning Studio — even before the name or brand — was to tell the stories of educators.
Rightfully, teachers have taken space in my storytelling, and I plan for that to continue always. But there’s another story that gets left out: the principal’s story.
For a year and a half, I served in an assistant principal role. I stepped away not out of failure, but out of a clarity of purpose. I saw gaps I could fill in a different way. Just as I remember clearly what the teacher role demanded of me, I remember quite clearly the administrator role demanded of me, too, and it demands that of the good ones still showing up in that space every day.
This post is for them. The ones who truly serve kids and adults in actions beyond titles and degrees. The ones who eat lunch going down the hallways, putting out metaphorical (and literal) fires.
The ones holding the emotional weight of an entire school surrounded by an entire community.
What Student Teaching Doesn’t Teach You — and What Principal Internships Can’t Either
TL;DR: I had the best administrator preparation program possible. I am certain of that, and I recommend East Tennessee State University for a solid prep program for principals.
But there were some things even ETSU couldn't forecast.
Teachers: remember all the things you needed to know about teaching that weren’t in the books? You can’t list them all in a bulleted list, and you don’t need to — I will do it for you.
All of it.
Like, the whole job.
If it weren’t for student teaching, you’d be left with a lot of knowledge of the places Piaget and Vygotsky overlap in age ranges, but you’d know the differences, too. That’s great.
But not when you have 35 14-year-olds looking at you on the first day of school.
Let’s talk about student teaching for principals — their internship. I know the expectations of universities and colleges everywhere are QUITE different. The hours required are VASTLY different. I will speak of my program: ETSU.
I completed over 1,000 hours in a rigorous K–12 leadership internship, well beyond the 540-hour minimum. The program required balanced experience across all grade bands and across all four domains of the TN Administrator Evaluation Rubric.
We developed detailed growth plans after formal evaluations each semester — both from the university and from our site mentors — and we culminated the program with a comprehensive digital portfolio presentation. Thanks to strong mentorship and incredible opportunities, I left the program exceptionally well-prepared.
I was as ready as anyone because I had professors and mentors who made sure of it.
But I wasn’t 100% ready for the physical and emotional demands of the job.
I thought:
“I am a principal. I can pee more than once at the end of the day. Maybe I can eat lunch every day!”
If you’re an administrator, I hope you didn’t just spit coffee all over your computer laughing. (Cold coffee because you never got to drink it.)
I wasn’t ready for the pace of the day.
I also didn't know that when taking out large bags of trash after a lunch period, you hold the trash bag way away from you to avoid getting trash water on your white shoes.
The days I was in my office for a few hours total, certainly not at once —
I wasn’t just chillin’.
That to-do list they have?
There is a joke that to-do lists for all educators won’t actually have anything done on it when they leave. And if they want to feel like they earned their money, they will make a “done” list instead.
I found that to-do lists as a principal are funny. I joined the crew joking about it.
(Below is an open apology from me for that one… stay tuned.)
I love to talk, and I absolutely loved when teachers visited me. I went into admin to help teachers like I had been helped/wished to have been helped, so I loved having relationships with them. I do not regret that time one bit.
That being said, they were always respectful of my time. Always. More so than I was with my administrators sometimes, not out of malice, but out of just not knowing.
Another thing I wasn’t prepared for: I wasn’t ready for how quickly I had to try to assimilate to a new culture — and how poorly I did it at first despite the book I read at ETSU and all the reflections and the paper I had to write about it. Oh, OH how correct it was. But because of that, it became even more important for me to do a much better job assimilating. I had to learn that I could have a teacher heart…
but I was no longer a teacher.
That was hard.
I felt like a teacher.
But I wasn’t one.
I learned quickly to shift.
But my heart remained.
What Your Principal Does That You May Not See — Or That They Can’t Tell You About
The “can’t” part? I can’t tell you, either.
But there’s a lot they do — for many, many reasons — that they can’t explain.
They’re not being difficult.
They’re not being sketch.
They’re not being hateful.
They’re not playing some kind of drama card.
Sometimes it is for a legal situation.
But honestly?
Sometimes it’s to protect you — your heart, your soul.
They carry that weight for you.
They may seem dodgy. And sure, sometimes some of it may be purposefully dodgy. No profession or set of people contains 100% of those pure at heart.
But it’s probably not.
And if they’re sassy to you about it?
I can’t speak for all of them, but I can say that for the most part the sass isn’t purposeful.
They’re there because they want to serve teachers in addition to students, and sometimes the bureaucracy gets in the way of their ability to visit you in your room just to come see you. Or be able to be in the hallways like that Principal Lamb guy on the rolling cart, which I did at the middle school where I was placed. I wanted to do that all the time, but I just couldn’t at that particular point.
Sometimes you know that, and sometimes they have really good Poker faces.
The Emotional Toll on Administrators — and Why It Matters
When you’re a teacher and have a bad day, there is nothing quite like having that administrator whose office door is always open.
Their bookshelf? Always open, too — so you can come down and grab Difficult Conversations for the 500th time instead of buying your own.
And you can tell them all the things.
All of them.
Then your administrator can do the same to...
*Crickets*
Sometimes your administrator has time to share, vent, and bounce ideas off people — maybe even with more people than you think during planning periods.
But honestly? Most of their conversations aren’t like that.
They don’t have time for that.
They’re planning.
They’re reviewing policy.
They’re redoing the fire drill schedule for the 26th time and only have two more options before they violate the fire marshal’s regulations — and that’s really bad.
They’re reading through 100000000000000000000000000000000000000 emails.
Most are time-sensitive.
Some require district phone calls.
They’re putting all the papers in the Title I notebook in order so that they do what they’re supposed to do. #audit
They’re either posting on social media themselves or — if they’re lucky — working with a PR person they still have to coordinate with.
A lot to say: your administrator doesn’t always have the space to process.
So they carry that.
I’ve talked about Brené Brown with many administrators, teachers, friends, and even students.
We love her.
From her, we learn vulnerability — being able to show our ugly sides and have someone help us pick it back up.
But in schools?
Administrators are usually the ones doing the picking up.
And it takes a toll.
They do it anyway.
Every day.
Because they are in service to teachers and students.
What You Can Do for Your Principal — AKA What I Needed to Read Many Years Ago
Here is where I come in with stories of teachers I served — who could have written this section and handed it to me 16 years ago. An open apology that that wasn’t the case follows.
What Can You Do for Your Principal?
These are the things teachers and staff at the elementary school and a core set of teachers and staff at the middle school did — for me — that helped me.
Some of it didn’t seem as helpful at the time that it would play out to be.
They were a strong group of teachers who loved their school, loved their community, and wanted me to succeed — not because of anything about me, but because it was what was best for their school.
1. They said hi. Every time.
Every single time I passed them in the hallway — no matter who they were talking to, no matter what was going on — they took time to greet me.
That helped me feel welcome and seen.
See your administrators. Say hi. They will notice.
2. They were honest with me.
Even when it could’ve backfired hard.
On my second day of inservice as admin, I did something well-intentioned — but because I didn’t know the history of what had come before, it unintentionally upset a few staff members.
Instead of deciding I was awful, they pulled me in. Privately. Three of them.And they just told me. Clearly, respectfully.
Do that for your administrator.
Allow them to make mistakes — and help them fix them.
That was a pivotal moment in my career.
Be like those women.
3. They invited me in. All the time.
I spent hours in classrooms — ELA, math, art, music — all of them.
They invited me to brag on kids, see new strategies, and offer feedback.
There was nothing better than being in a positive situation with kids and teachers — sitting on the floor, learning about Pandora’s Box. Getting to see a teacher teach Poe to middle-school students who loved it. Seeing a fifth-grade teacher lead research projects in science where students developed their own topics and slideshows.
It made evaluations a breeze. No surprises. No gotchas.
Just collaboration and growth.
Invite your principal into your room.
They may not always make it. But the invitation brings joy.
And if they don’t come? Don’t take it personally. Show them grace.
Open Apology
I was not always great at showing grace to my administrators.
I was pretty gracious, but I took for granted how strong they were. How they never lost their cool.
It wasn’t until I served in that role that I realized that I should’ve had more respect for that than I did.
They are humans, too.
They have home stuff, work stuff, life stuff.
Because of their position, they may not tell you. But it’s there.
This One’s Important
“I really like [insert administrator name]. They’re always helpful and funny and their door is open — so obviously that means they want me to come in.”
Not necessarily.
Pop in and say hey.
Offer to bring them a soda.
Ask if they’ve eaten.
If you’re close with them, maybe even tell them it’s time to go to the restroom real quick.
Say something nice.
Then go do your things to save you from working as much at home.
They may be Rhiannons who would rather talk to you the whole time and just come in excessively early to work quietly. Who work at home more than they should. (All of them work at home.)But they may not be.
Be like teachers were for me, not like I was sometimes.
Open Letter to the Principals I Loved
I’m sorry I hadn’t read this before.
But I am thankful that all the things I said above are true — that you were there in service to teachers, too — and that you never made me feel bad.
Thank you.




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