Normalizing Career Moves in Educational Leadership

In education, we talk a lot about loyalty—loyalty to students, to schools, to communities. And don’t get me wrong: I believe in showing up, sticking it out, and pouring yourself into the work. But somewhere along the way, it’s become taboo to talk about something very real: what happens when an administrator decides it’s time to move on?

I want to say something out loud that we don’t say nearly enough in this profession:
👉 It’s okay to leave a job that isn’t right for you.
👉 It’s okay to seek more.
👉 It’s okay to choose yourself and your growth.

Maybe the culture wasn’t what you hoped it would be.

Maybe you didn’t get the support or development you needed.

Maybe the job turned out to be something very different than what was promised.

Or maybe—let’s be honest—you realized you wanted to make more money, be closer to your kids, or simply find a place that brought you joy again.

All of that is valid.

And here’s another truth we need to normalize: you don’t have to stay somewhere for several years just to make your resume look better—especially if staying means sacrificing your happiness, your mental health, or your sense of purpose. Longevity doesn’t automatically equal effectiveness, and a long stint in a role that drains you isn’t a badge of honor. Sometimes the strongest, most courageous move is knowing when it’s time to walk away.

As an assistant principal, I’ve seen people wrestle quietly with the guilt of wanting something different, something better. Some felt like they were quitting on their students. Others were afraid of what colleagues or fellow administrators would say. Some were just afraid to admit that what they were doing wasn’t working anymore.

Here’s the truth: growth often looks like change. And leadership isn’t just about staying—it’s about knowing when the best move for yourself, your family, and your career might be somewhere new.

When a teacher moves districts for a new opportunity, we celebrate them. When a student decides a certain path isn’t for them, we coach them through it. But when an administrator makes a change? Too often, we whisper about it instead of supporting them.

We can still love education, still believe in kids, and still want to make an impact—even if that means taking our talents to a new team, a new district, or even a new profession. Our worth is not tied to our zip code or our badge. It's tied to our heart, our purpose, and our willingness to keep showing up—even if it looks different than it used to.

So to any administrator out there feeling stuck, unsure, or ready to leap:

You’re not alone. You’re not selfish. You’re not giving up.

You're evolving. You're choosing yourself.

And that’s leadership, too.