he says. “We’ve always had money problems—2015, that was real tumultuous but we’ve relied on smart, committed people to forge a way. Tough times force partnerships. They make us innovate. We may not have the same resources as yesterday, but we still want the same or better outcomes. So we re-engineer (we change) how we do things. We don’t give up.” Then, his tone softened as he shared a recent conversation with his mother—a moment filled with quiet pride and the unspoken joy of making her proud. At first, it felt like a simple glimpse into his life, a tender memory. But then, almost without warning, he brought it home: “There’s nothing that would mean more to me in this role,” he said quietly, “than hearing from principals that during my time I did something that made them proud. Something that made them want to stay. To keep going. To believe it’s still worth it.” He paused, let it land, then added with that kind of steady, almost aching hope you can feel more than hear: “If we can do that? If I can help create that shift—then it’s worth it. For me. For this Board. And for the principals who carry our schools forward every single day.” I listened closely, feeling the weight of what he was saying and the vision he held for the future. I had walked in wanting to ask everything, to cover every base, but the dialogue took on a life of its own and it felt right to follow it. Some questions would have to wait for another time. Thankfully, Harden agreed to sit down with me quarterly, giving us the space to dig even deeper in the future. As I packed up to leave, I was struck by a quiet certainty: the change he spoke of wasn’t a “maybe” anymore. It was already in motion. It was the new reality. And somehow, I felt like I was peering over a wall I couldn’t see over just an hour before. He had already built a step for me, a way to change my own perspective, to see what I hadn’t seen. What was possible wasn’t some far-off idea… it was already happening, quietly, in the dedication, in the hope.
We may not have the same resources as yesterday, but we still want the same or better outcomes. So we re-engineer (we change) how we do things. We don’t give up.”
I was led out… through the maze again. In a time when so many are asking whether hope is enough, Harden’s leadership reminds us that hope, heart, and hard work are still the most powerful forces we have. As Sarah walked alongside me, guiding me back to where I started, I thought about how we have never really been alone. There are people, the principals, and assistant principals who show up every day determined to make a difference. And there are leaders like Harden, keeping the values we hold dear front and center in this winding maze of change. Principals have a true partner in this new Board, in President Harden: someone leading with heart, with values, with a big-picture view, asking the right questions, finding the next answer, taking the necessary steps. He’s in it with us, navigating this new reality, for as long as it takes. And he’s surrounding himself with partners like Sarah, who serve as the reminder that we don’t have to navigate the journey alone. As I left, carrying a laptop I never used and a belief I didn’t realize I still held, I kept thinking about Harden’s words, “The future we’re fighting for isn’t just hope... it’s already here. We just have to believe it enough to see it.” That’s how belief becomes direction... and the map begins to draw itself.
CPAA IS VOICE AND POWER REALIZED • 37
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