Todd Whitaker Was Right: Teachers Rise When They Feel They Matter

What if we believed in our teachers the same way we believe in our students?

Todd Whitaker said, “If you don’t treat an employee as if they make a difference, they won’t.” The same goes for teachers. If we truly believe all students can succeed with the right support—shouldn’t we believe the same about our staff?

It Wasn’t the Group She Got

It was only the third week of school, but the parent complaints had already started. Calls about classroom behavior. Concerns from other teachers. Notes about students feeling unsafe. The principal approached me with urgency, “Can you go help her?”

At the time, I was serving as the school’s instructional coach. I didn’t evaluate teachers or supervise them. My job was to support their growth. When things got rocky early in the year, I was often the first one called in—not to fix the teacher, but to walk alongside them while we figured it out together.

The teacher in question was new to our school, but not new to teaching. She was in her mid-20s, with a great smile, a breezy personality, and a love of loose, flowing outfits. She had spent two years at another school, and on the surface, she seemed confident. Easygoing. Unfazed. But underneath, she was overwhelmed and exhausted.

When we sat down to talk, she didn’t seem rattled—just resigned.

“It’s just the group I got this year,” she said. “They’ll settle down soon, once the beginning-of-the-year energy wears off.”

She genuinely believed it. To her, the chaos was normal. It wasn’t.

When I visited her classroom the next day, students were shouting, climbing on desks, tossing pencils across the room. Several kids were in physical danger. She stood near the front, turned away from the group, locked into a one-on-one conversation with a student—completely unaware.

I rarely step in. But that day, I had to.

In a calm, firm voice, I brought the class under control and restored safety. I didn’t yell. I didn’t shame. I just made it clear: This was not how we do school. Once the room was calm, I turned it back over to her and sat silently in the back until recess.

And something incredible happened.

The students behaved. They followed instructions. They treated her with respect. If a student started to act up, another student would nudge him and subtly point to the back of the room. They didn’t need a lecture. They just needed a reminder that someone was watching—someone who expected better. Every time they glanced back at me, they recalibrated. And just like that, the room held.

When the bell rang and students headed outside, she turned to me with wide eyes and said, “Wow. They were so good! Can you be here every day?”

She was completely serious.

That moment stays with me because some teachers don’t even realize what’s possible. They’ve never felt the calm. They’ve only ever known the chaos. But once they experience it—once they see what their classroom could be—they want to get there. And that’s where the real work begins.

Coaching Starts with Belief

After that day, I didn’t walk away. I stayed connected. Not in her classroom every day, but as a steady presence. Someone she could count on.

As her instructional coach, I understood that real change wouldn’t come from a single moment. She didn’t need a quick fix. She needed someone to walk beside her while she found her footing.

At that point, she was still operating at HTPD Level 1. She liked her students and cared about them, but she hadn’t yet developed high expectations for what they could achieve—or for herself as their teacher. She was still hoping they would calm down on their own. Hoping the energy of the new school year would eventually fade.

After that first visit, she looked at me and said, “Yeah, because it was you and they know you. There’s no way they’ll do that for me.”

She meant it. She didn’t believe she could command the room in the same way. What she didn’t realize yet was that the students hadn’t responded to me. They had responded to clear expectations and calm consistency. And those were skills she could absolutely build.

So that’s where we started.

We worked on tone. On presence. On choosing our words with purpose. We talked about what it really means to hold students to a high standard without losing connection.

Once she began to shift her mindset, we moved into Level 2. Together, we built predictable routines and practiced delivering them with confidence. We planned entry procedures, transitions, and expectations for group work. We talked through what to do when students tested those expectations, and how to respond without escalating.

She took each strategy and gave it a try. Some things worked right away. Others needed a few rounds of revision. But over time, she began to see what was possible. And, more importantly, she began to believe she could lead it.

She started asking for feedback. She invited me back into her classroom. Her confidence grew. So did her students. She wasn’t just getting through the day anymore. She was learning how to own it.

The parent phone calls slowed down. Students were safer. They were learning. The classroom started to feel like a classroom.

By the time her classroom began to settle, people were starting to notice. A few colleagues acknowledged the shift. Others waited quietly, unsure if the changes would stick. That’s often how it goes. In schools, reputations form quickly but they take much longer to change.

And that’s why Todd Whitaker’s words stay with me: “If you don’t treat an employee as if they make a difference, they won’t.”

Belief isn’t just something leaders extend—it’s something that lives in staffrooms and PLCs, too. The way we speak about each other, the grace we offer, the space we hold when someone’s still figuring it out. It all matters.

This teacher could make a difference. And she did. What she needed in those early weeks was someone who believed in her enough to stay and to offer support that matched her reality, not her reputation.

That’s not rescuing. That’s leadership.
And in a healthy school culture, it’s also friendship.

When teachers succeed, students succeed.
Supporting teachers shouldn’t feel like a guessing game. The Hierarchy of Teacher Professional Development (HTPD) offers a clear path forward. Visit PrincipalForbes.com to explore the framework and download free tools to get started.