Anchored Teams 2 — A True Story about Control, Culture, and the Cost of Abdication
- Melanie
- Jun 16
- 2 min read
I once worked at a small educational institution. I loved the students and most of my team. I genuinely enjoyed my responsibilities — even though I came from a completely different discipline.
That difference may have been my greatest asset.
While others defaulted to “how things have always been done,” I brought new eyes: experience with accreditation standards (from the university world), the critical thinking of nursing, and the continuous improvement mindset of Lean Six Sigma.
I wasn’t disruptive. I tend to be a peacemaker. But I did offer more efficient tools or solutions when I saw opportunities for improvement. I wasn’t alone — others had good ideas too. But nearly everything hit the same wall:
“Well… the principal said.”
Every decision — even minor ones — had to be approved by him. The staff lived in a state of quiet fear and learned helplessness. In a team of fifty, serving students and volunteers, this level of central control was exhausting and disempowering.
One example still frustrates me.
A critical piece of equipment failed. I always stayed within our department budget but when I asked maintenance to replace it, it was $35 over what I could authorize without the principal. Understanding the urgency, the maintenance director went ahead, purchased it, and installed it.
We were both rebuked. Harshly. The head of finance and I were then warned never to step outside our “level of authority” again.
Then came the larger opportunity — a chance to create a new program in partnership with a sister institution. I had rare qualifying credentials and offered to lead the project or help staff it. I was told it might save the school. Encouraged, I built a full proposal over several weeks, researching state requirements and connecting with external partners.
When I brought the final plan to the principal, he seemed excited.
Then he went silent.
Three weeks later, I followed up. His response?
“My boss said no.”
That was it. No explanation. I asked if I could meet with someone to explore the objections. “No,” he said, and turned away.
The place was full of talent — but few were functioning at their full capacity. I’ve rarely seen professionals give so much of their time and so little of their actual skill sets.
I loved the stated mission. I admired the people. But the culture? It was stifling.
A couple years after I left, the school shut down. Officially: lack of funding. But that wasn’t the root problem.
It wasn’t just the principal. It was the culture that grew around leaders like him, the same culture that picked him — a culture that slowly gave away ownership, creativity, and courage.
That’s what happens when responsibility is hoarded instead of shared.
But it doesn’t have to be that way.
There’s another model — not just for schools, but for teams and organizations of every kind.
We’ll explore it in Part Three: Anchored Teams — Leadership That Builds Ownership.
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