Visibility Is Not Optional Leadership Work

I’ve been thinking a lot about the families who left our district. They didn’t leave because of what we did, but because of what they thought we did.

One parent believed we had eliminated all dual credit courses. We hadn’t. We had actually partnered with a neighboring district to sustain one those opportunities while we found our own instructor.

Another thought our arts programs had vanished completely. They hadn’t. Music and theater were thriving, just not always visible.

The problem wasn’t a lack of good things happening. The problem was that we weren’t telling the story well enough, or often enough, or clearly enough for families to see it.

And here’s the leadership lesson I can’t unlearn:

When schools stay quiet, silence creates its own story.

The Story Silence Tells

Most schools still treat communication like a bulletin board.

We post announcements. We share calendars. We celebrate the occasional trophy photo.

But we rarely start conversations. We rarely step in to correct misinformation. We rarely pause to make invisible work visible.

That one-way approach forces families to piece together their understanding of a school system on their own. And when people can’t clearly see what a school stands for, they don’t wait patiently for that clarity.

They fill in the blanks themselves.

Those blanks often get filled with worry. With frustration. With worst-case assumptions.

In my research, I saw this pattern everywhere.

Carla pulled her children after repeated bullying incidents, not only because of what happened, but because the silence around it felt like complicity. For her family, invisibility wasn’t a communication gap. It was a crisis of trust.

Zoey couldn’t articulate what the district stood for, so she assumed the worst: “I’m not sure they even have a brand. Is the brand lack of direction and poor administration? That’s what I see.” Those words sting, but she didn’t see anything to change her opinion.

And Maria, whose four children were thriving, had caring teachers, felt safe, and were building friendships, looked at the district’s website and social media and couldn’t find that story anywhere.
“It’s all about numbers and trophies,” she told me. “But what makes us stay is the people. Why doesn’t anyone talk about that?”

The Cost of Silence

When schools stay quiet, three things almost always happen:

1. Rumors rise.

Without accurate information, speculation fills the gap. Stories spread at soccer practice, in Facebook groups, and in grocery store aisles faster than any official message we eventually send.

2. Trust erodes.

Families begin to interpret silence as avoidance or indifference. They start to wonder: What else aren’t they telling us?

3. Opportunities disappear.

Programs, supports, pathways, and successes remain unknown and therefore unused. Good work that stays invisible might as well not exist.

Here’s the leadership truth we have to face:

Silence doesn’t keep you safe. It keeps you invisible.

And invisibility isn’t humility. It’s a leadership gap.

Visibility Is Leadership Responsibility

I know what some leaders are thinking right now.

I didn’t get into education to be on social media. I’m here to serve kids, not market the district.

I’ve said versions of that sentence myself.

So here’s the reframe that changed my own thinking:

Visibility isn’t marketing. It’s leadership responsibility.

When leaders make work visible, they aren’t bragging. They’re doing the work of making things make sense.

They’re giving families the information they need to make informed decisions, correcting misinformation before it hardens into belief, and showing communities how resources are actually being used.

And they’re protecting the people doing the work.

The counselor who sits with a student in crisis.
The custodian who stays late so a family event can happen.
The paraprofessional who knows every child’s name and their story.

Making that work visible isn’t optional. It’s part of the job.

In an era of school choice, when families have more options and far less patience for confusion, this responsibility only grows.Schools that don’t take ownership of their visibility will be defined by outside voices instead. Some well-intentioned. Others not.

What This Means for Your Monday Morning

I’m not asking you to become a full-time content creator, and I’m not asking you to chase every platform or trend.

I am asking for one shift:

Move from broadcast to dialogue.

• Tell the stories that matter.
• Answer the questions families are actually asking.
• Correct the rumors you hear circulating.

Make the invisible visible. Not because it’s trendy. but because it’s essential.

This is exactly why I wrote Capes Optional, Communication Essential.

If you’d like to go deeper, the book is available here: www.xfactor.link/capes

Not to teach leaders how to promote themselves, but to help them build communication systems that protect trust, people, and learning.

Let’s Talk

I’d love to hear from you:

• How are you thinking about visibility in your context?
• What’s one story your community needs to hear that hasn’t been told yet?

Drop a comment. Send a message. Or reach out and let’s work through it together.

This work doesn’t have to be lonely. And it doesn’t have to be one more thing you carry alone.