The Cheetah Print Bra
Why Looking the Part Isn’t the Same as Doing the Job
It Started as a Silly Thing—But It Wasn’t
I knew I hadn’t been treating myself very kindly.
There’s a weird thing that happens when you’re a coach. You know how to make other people better. You see exactly where they need to grow, adapt, and unlearn.
And yet, when it comes to yourself?
Overwhelm. Over-analysis. Avoidance.
It’s so much easier to see the path for someone else than to see it for yourself. That’s why coaching is so powerful—an external force that tells you where to put your attention.
I hadn’t been giving myself that same attention.
But by Day 4 of the Bra Challenge, I found myself asking a question: How do we know we’re actually excellent?
Because this isn’t just a personal struggle.
This is one of the biggest problems in education, leadership, and life:
The Illusion of Excellence.
The Flashy Cheetah Print Bra – When "Looks Good" Tricks Us Into Thinking "Is Good"
I pulled out the cheetah print bra because it looked amazing.
It commanded attention. It looked like something worn by a woman who had it together—who walked into rooms and got things done.
But in practice?
Uncomfortable. Barely functional. A total disaster.
And this is exactly what we do in education.
How the Illusion of Excellence Shows Up in Schools—and Why It’s Failing Our Students
Schools, like individuals, often prioritize what looks impressive over what actually works.
While this may provide short-term benefits—higher test scores, improved rankings, better PR—it ultimately hurts students, teachers, and communities.
Here’s how schools create the illusion of excellence—and why it’s a serious problem for students who graduate unprepared for higher education and beyond.
Grade Inflation and Falsified Data: When Numbers Lie
The Atlanta Public Schools Scandal: A National Wake-Up Call
One of the largest academic fraud cases in U.S. history involved teachers and administrators in Atlanta altering test scores to meet performance targets and secure bonuses. The goal? Avoiding the consequences of No Child Left Behind, which labeled schools as “failing” based on test scores. But the result? Students labeled as “proficient” who lacked the skills to succeed.
A 2018 study by the Fordham Institute found that grade inflation is widespread—high school students are earning higher grades while national test scores remain stagnant.
With nearly two-thirds of teenagers are ill-prepared for college and over 40% of college freshmen require remedial courses because their high school diplomas didn’t reflect their actual skills.
A’s on a transcript don’t mean students are actually ready for what’s next.
Grade Inflation: A Reflection of Our Beliefs About Students
Grade inflation isn’t just about inflated GPAs or feel-good report cards—it’s a reflection of what we actually believe about our students and their futures.
If we genuinely believed that every student had the potential to succeed in college, would we set them up for failure by inflating their achievements instead of equipping them with the skills they need?
Would we let them leave high school with A’s that don’t mean mastery?
Or would we ensure that an A actually meant readiness—so they don’t enter college paying tuition just to take remedial classes?
When we inflate grades, we aren’t just padding GPAs.
We are signaling to students that they don’t need to be ready—because deep down, we don’t believe they ever will be.
The Illusion of Excellence in Everyday Observations
We see it all the time—the performance of excellence rather than the substance of it. In education, in leadership, in daily life, we check the box, say the right thing, put up the display, and call it success. But deep down, we know there’s more beneath the surface.
The Shiny Poster on the Wall
That learning objective written in perfect dry-erase handwriting?
That SEL slogan in bold letters in the hallway?
That mission statement every staff member can recite?
Check. It’s visible. But is it actually happening?
The Checklist Mentality
Just because something is written on the wall doesn’t mean it’s happening in the classroom.
Just because something is stated in a meeting doesn’t mean it’s reality.
Just because a school looks great on paper doesn’t mean it’s great for students.
We reward what’s visible—not what’s valuable.
The Classroom Management Mirage
A silent classroom must mean students are highly engaged with high expectations, right?
Not necessarily.
Sometimes, what looks like strong management is actually just high compliance with low academic demand.
A teacher can be a master of control but hold zero bar for content. Students behave, sit quietly, follow procedures—but never engage in deep thinking.
Students learn to “perform” attention without truly learning.
The Real Problem
The illusion of excellence occurs when systems reward visibility over substance.
We praise what looks good rather than what works.
We reward compliance rather than deep engagement.
We measure what’s easy to track rather than what’s meaningful to improve.
The Exemplar Mindset: Moving Beyond the Illusion
Instead of checking the box, we must ask:
Is this actually working?
Are students learning, or just performing learning?
Are we improving, or just proving?
Excellence isn’t what we say, display, or document—it’s what we do.
I loved this post. It describes several schools that I have seen over the years. A school may have a great reputation, but there is weak learning beneath the surface. I remember this school in Long Island that I was asked to review and spent two days observing and talking to students and staff. The new superintendent had some reservations about the high school quality. The school had great test scores, but there was a lot of tedious routine work. The Principal was rarely seen outside of his office. He met with typical school leaders but never knew the bulk of the student body. Students and staff were compliant, but there was little energy and innovation. Everyone was going through the motions, and relationships among students, staff, and administration were weak. I wrote a critical report on the effectiveness of the school. The Principal was so irritated by the report that he sent it to staff and asked them to indicate if my observations were incorrect. He was shocked when the staff agreed with my observation. He had been in the school for 20 years but did not have a feel for the culture or an accurate measure of achievement. I will have to dig out and republish my stereotypes of high schools. Dick Jones rdjleader@gmail.com