Even When the Moment Passes, Do Something.

Let me set the scene.

When I was an instructional coach, summer was my personal chaos season. That’s when we welcome the new wave of teachers: fresh grads, folks making career pivots, and yes, even former correctional officers twice my age who have never worked with kids a day in their lives. I’m responsible for giving all of them what they need to walk into this work with confidence. That’s not easy. It’s a tightrope.

And while all of that is happening, I’m also obsessing over the full experience. From the time they park their cars on day one to the moment they sit down with their boxed lunch. I want it all to feel intentional. Empowering. But there’s a catch: we’re under-resourced and running on fumes.

That’s where the induction team leaders, or ITLs, come in. These are seasoned teachers from across the district who give up their summer to help us build the foundation for the next generation of educators. Yes, they get paid, but this is still summertime they’re sacrificing. And they aren’t just supporting—they’re anchoring the work.

Then you have people like Branda and Julio, our operations interns. And listen, “intern” doesn’t even cover what they did. These two handled everything. Schedules. Badges. Opening classrooms. Coordinating materials. Making sure lunch showed up through the right door. Problem-solving in real time. Arriving early. Staying late. Doing all the invisible, logistical labor that no one claps for but that makes the whole thing run. They were helping support our Director of Operations while also being the unofficial fixers of everything.

And let me take a second to spotlight someone else: Melissa.

Melissa, the operations director, one of the most underpaid, unseen, overworked heroes I’ve ever met. While everyone else was focused on strategy, planning, or presenting, Melissa was making sure the building didn't fall apart. Literally. She’s the one triple-checking the logistics, helping folks troubleshoot, keeping everyone sane, and closing the gaps that leadership didn’t even see. Her job description? Doesn’t come close. Her actual role? Human duct tape. Quiet fire extinguisher. Systems whisperer. Without her, it all crashes.

So, when the summer wrapped and all these people who held it down were about to just… fade into the background, I couldn’t sit with that.

I put my head together with Melissa and at the next team meeting, I said, “Hey, I would love for us to thank all the induction team leaders. I’m going to buy Sprinkles cupcakes for each of them, gift-wrapped individually, and I’m going to hand-deliver them to every single campus.” Side note for all my readers: If you don't know, Sprinkle's isn't just any ole run of the mill cupcake! It's gonna cost ya! And a small home loan may not cover it, haha. Okay back to regular scheduled programming. I asked everyone to write a note of appreciation. Nothing fancy. Just real. Sincere. Timely. Because appreciation doesn’t have to be grand—it just has to be planned.

And I meant that. I gassed up my car, mapped out the stops across the Houston area, and spent an entire school day delivering cupcakes, bags of goodies and looking each of them in the eye and telling them how much they were appreciated. One. By. One. Not because I wanted a pat on the back. But because I couldn’t stomach doing nothing.

For Branda and Julio, I wanted something special too. So, on a separate day, I surprised them with lunch. I had our team sign handwritten cards. Not generic lines but actual gratitude. Thoughtful, specific, personal. They didn’t know it was coming, and that was the point. I wanted them to feel celebrated because they earned it.

And here’s something I haven’t said yet: getting to know Branda and Julio more deeply was a gift. I won’t share their aspirations here, but I will say this. Take the time to ask. Get curious. Because where you meet someone is not where they’ll always be. How do I know? I was standing where they stood before. Different school, different circumstances, different leaders. Same cycle.

So why am I telling you all this?

Because when moments like this pass and no recognition happens, shame creeps in. We feel bad. We think, “Dang, we should’ve done something.” But then the meeting ends. The day moves on. And we do nothing. Because the window feels closed.

But here’s the thing. The alternative is silence.

And silence says: “You didn’t matter enough to plan for.”

I can’t live with that.

So I’ll take the shame. I’ll take the grunt work. I’ll take the extra errand and the long drive. Because people are not just positions. They are not placeholders. They are the reason anything gets done.

Leaders, this is your reminder.

Gratitude is not a side dish.

It’s part of the main course.

You plan for it. You budget for it. You bake it into the timeline like everything else.

Celebrate while the work is happening. Not just when it ends.

And definitely not when it’s too late.

Here are a few ITL heroes that made the summer fantastic!