Courageous conversations define school leadership – but they can drain us. Former principal and guest speaker Mr Andrew Murray explains why wellbeing isn’t optional and how simple resets help leaders stay present and lead with care.
Every school leader knows the moment. You’re about to walk into a conversation you’d rather not have. It could be a difficult parent, a staff conflict, or a performance conversation you know won’t be easy. You take a breath, open the door, and step in.
These are the moments that shape leadership. Not the assemblies, not the awards nights, not the photos in the annual report. The real test is in courageous conversations where trust is stretched and truth needs to be spoken. They matter, but they also take something out of us.
Conflict is part of leading a school. People bring different views on teaching, expectations, relationships, and priorities. A courageous conversation isn’t about winning. It’s about naming what matters when silence would be easier. Every one of these moments is a turning point. Without care, they drain us and leave scars on the school community. With care, they can build trust and open the door to growth. This is where wellbeing, and the idea of flourishing, becomes central.
If we don’t reset after hard conversations, the strain spills over. A teacher looking for encouragement might get impatient. A student who needs calm may get a clipped response. Even families at home can feel it when we haven’t left the last meeting behind. The load doesn’t stay in the office; it travels into classrooms, staffrooms, and playgrounds.
I remember one afternoon as a principal when I carried the intensity of a tough parent meeting into my daughter’s soccer game. I was there in body but not in spirit, still replaying every word in my head. It was a wake-up call. Unless I learned to reset, I wasn’t just short-changing myself. I was short-changing the people who mattered most. Many leaders describe this as “death by a thousand cuts.” One conversation doesn’t break you, but the accumulation does. And when it does, trust slips, energy fades, and the flourishing of the whole school suffers.
This is why wellbeing isn’t an optional extra. It’s part of the job. If courageous conversations are unavoidable, then recovery practices are essential. Simple rituals can help. Three deep breaths before leaving the meeting room. A short reflection to close one encounter before opening the next. A walk across the playground to clear your head. A few minutes of quiet at the start and end of the day.
One principal I know takes two minutes of silence before every board meeting. “I walk in less reactive, more grounded,” she told me, “and the meeting goes differently because of it.” These are not fads. They are practices that protect presence. They ensure that the next person who walks into your office meets a leader who is steady and attentive, not someone weighed down by the last meeting.
Too often we talk about wellbeing as if it’s just about surviving stress. But the deeper goal is flourishing. Flourishing means leading with purpose, nurturing relationships, and creating conditions where others can thrive too. When leaders treat wellbeing as core to leadership, courageous conversations stop being moments to endure. They become chances to show honesty with care, to build trust through truth, and to remind staff and students that even difficult conversations can be held with dignity.
This is the heart of it: courageous conversations are not about confrontation. They are about care for the relationship, for the community, and for what is right. But courage without care is brittle. A leader running on adrenaline might win the point but lose the ability to keep leading well. Real courage is speaking the truth while staying whole enough to lead with grace afterwards. That wholeness is what keeps schools healthy.
The leaders who handle courageous conversations best are those who practise presence. They know leadership is felt in the corridor, on playground duty, or in a passing word outside the classroom. If you carry the residue of a boardroom clash into a classroom visit, you risk undermining a teacher who needed encouragement. Reset, arrive present, and that same visit becomes a moment of affirmation. Presence is contagious. It sets the tone for how safe, hopeful, and flourishing a school feels.
Courageous conversations are not interruptions to leadership. They are part of its fabric. The question is not whether we will have them, but whether we will have them in ways that protect our wellbeing and create schools where staff and students can flourish.
The test of a courageous conversation isn’t just the words spoken in the room. It’s the presence you carry into the next one. If we carry tension forward, it multiplies. If we reset, we model calm and grounded leadership. That is how courageous conversations move beyond moments of conflict and become moments that help whole communities to flourish.
Your next step
Choose one small ritual you can use this week to reset after a hard conversation. It might be writing down three words to describe how you feel, taking a short walk, lighting a candle (this is a really good one in special character environments) or simply pausing for a minute of stillness before stepping into the next interaction. The practice doesn’t need to be complicated, but it does need to be intentional. Over time, these small resets protect your wellbeing and create the presence that helps your whole school to flourish.
About the author
Andrew Murray is a leadership and staff wellbeing strategist across New Zealand and Australia. A former secondary school principal, he partners with leaders to build data-driven wellbeing frameworks. His work integrates Te Whare Tapa Whā with Harvard’s flourishing model. He lectures at BBI, hosts the Well.I.Am podcast, and is completing PhD research.
