It started with a drive-by request. “Can you please talk to Mr. C? He let his kids go five minutes early again.”
The message wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t dangerous. But it was the third of its kind that week.
In schools, we call it “reporting.” Some call it “documenting.” But let’s be real—what we’re often dealing with is grown-up tattling.
It’s subtle. It’s wrapped in good intentions. But it eats time, drains trust, and does the exact opposite of what we need in schools right now.
The cost of a “tattling culture”
When we normalize adult tattling in schools—running to the principal, looping in a coach, forwarding emails about hallway noise—we reinforce a power dynamic that says:
I’m not responsible for addressing problems directly.
Leadership exists to solve interpersonal issues.
If I’m uncomfortable, someone else must fix it.
It masquerades as accountability, but it’s actually avoidance.
What we’re building—without meaning to—is a system of surveillance instead of solidarity, compliance instead of collaboration, and hierarchy instead of efficacy.
It creates a culture where people look up the chain before looking across the table.
Let’s be real…We will literally change entire policies rather than have one or two difficult conversations.
What we should be building: A culture of collective efficacy
Ok, ok, I know I wouldn’t say the word should anymore but I couldn’t help it. I’m going to should all over our public school leaders right now…
Collective efficacy isn’t just an academic buzzword—it’s the strongest school-based predictor of student learning. When teachers believe in each other’s ability to get better, they take more risks, push harder, and improve outcomes.
But you can't build collective efficacy in a culture of escalation.
Escalation tells staff:
You can’t handle this.
You’re not trusted.
Only leadership has the answers.
Then, people start acting like it. Innovation stalls, collaboration dies, and the very problems we’re asked to fix multiply in the shadows of disempowerment.
So what do you say instead?
When someone brings you a solvable peer-to-peer issue, there’s one sentence that will transform your culture over time.
But before we get to it, let’s be clear: I’m not talking about safety concerns, violations of law, or anything that puts students at risk. Those absolutely require leadership intervention.
I’m talking about “She didn’t send her advisory slides.”
Or “He always prints last minute.”
Or “Her tone was kind of aggressive.”
In these moments, what we say matters. It signals our values. It either builds capability—or it breeds dependency.
Here’s the sentence:
“I trust that you will be able to resolve this issue.”
Say it. Rehearse it. Use it so often that your staff can finish it for you.
It’s not a brush-off. It’s a belief statement. It’s coaching in one line.
It says:
You are capable.
This is a peer matter, not a power matter.
Culture shifts when we do the hard things ourselves.
Why this sentence works
It sets a boundary between what is yours to own as a leader and what belongs to the adults in the building.
It reinforces agency. When you hand the baton back, you reinforce that their voice matters—and that solving problems doesn’t require permission.
It models emotional maturity. Not everything needs to be mediated. Some things just need a conversation.
We can’t claim to believe in empowered teachers while treating them like hall monitors who need a grown-up to step in every time someone forgets a form.
Like this move? Check out this one for PD:
Stop watering the fire
This connects to a bigger concept I’ve written about: Are you watering the grass, or the fire?
Escalation culture is a fire. It feels urgent. It demands immediate response. But it doesn’t fix root issues—it just keeps everything flammable.
When you water the grass—by teaching adults how to have hard conversations—you grow trust. You grow stamina. You grow systems that don’t collapse when the principal is out for a day.
Practice the sentence
Say it in the mirror. Write it on a sticky note. Put it on your monitor if you have to.
“I trust that you will be able to resolve this issue.”
The best cultures aren’t built on compliance.
They’re built on belief.
I wish I would have learned this earlier than I did. As a beginning principal, I viewed it as my role to 'solve' those issues. However, with me being the bottleneck and removing that ownership from my colleagues, it was clear quickly that the approach didn't work. Thanks for sharing.