Presence Over Polish
Why trust is built in the quiet moments, not the big moves.
A few years ago, I started noticing a pattern in my coaching conversations with school leaders. No matter what problem we were unpacking, burnout, change fatigue, staff conflict, we always ended up circling back to one quiet, uncomfortable question:
“Do people trust me?”
It’s not the kind of question you bring up in a leadership meeting or write on a district report. It shows up in subtler ways: in tone, in timing, in silence. It’s the pause before someone shares what they really think. It’s the shift in a room when you walk in. It’s the way your team reads your expression before you even speak.
You can feel trust. And you can feel when it’s slipping.
The Trap of Looking the Part
Most of us were trained to perform steadiness. Keep your face neutral, your voice calm, your agenda tight. You learn quickly that perception matters. So you start leading like you’re on a stage: clear, polished, efficient.
The problem is that polish can start to look a lot like distance.
And distance, over time, drains trust.
I see it often in new principals and assistant principals. They’re doing everything “right”: quick responses, neat plans, composed meetings. But the more they try to project confidence, the more their teams feel disconnected. People stop bringing them bad news. Staff meetings go quiet. Feedback dries up.
It’s not because the leader isn’t competent. It’s because people can’t see them anymore.
When Presence Matters More Than Answers
Leadership presence isn’t about charisma or visibility; it’s about being fully there, not multitasking through conversations, not crafting the perfect response in your head while someone’s talking, but listening like it matters.
When pressure mounts, our instinct is to speed up, answer faster, plan tighter, move on to the next fire. But trust builds in the opposite direction. It builds when we slow down enough for people to feel seen.
Presence means you look someone in the eye and say, “You’re right, that was my miss.” It means you send the follow-up email you promised, even if no one’s keeping score. It means you show up in classrooms and hallways not to check boxes, but to check in.
Presence doesn’t require extra time; it requires intentional time. It’s the courage to stop performing leadership and start practicing it.
The Turn That Changes Everything
When it comes to trust, the most powerful shifts are rarely dramatic.
The typical impulse says:
Keep it professional.
Don’t show weakness.
Stay in control.
But the wiser move says:
Be honest.
Be consistent.
Be human.
It’s a small but powerful recalibration, away from optics, toward authenticity. The kind of move that doesn’t show up on an agenda but changes everything that happens after it.
Trust Isn’t a Speech
You can’t “announce” trust. It’s not a slogan, a theme, or a line in your strategic plan. Trust is built in the quiet, ordinary moments that don’t make it into your end-of-year summary.
It’s built in how you respond when someone brings you hard feedback.
It’s built in whether you follow through when it would be easier to forget.
It’s built when you say, “I don’t know yet, but I’ll find out.”
And yes, it’s repaired in those same ways. Every leader breaks trust at some point, by moving too fast, by missing a follow-up, by reacting from exhaustion instead of clarity. The difference between erosion and repair is whether you own it, apologize, and adjust.
People don’t expect perfection. They expect honesty.
Visibility, Consistency, and Vulnerability
If you’re looking for something to hold onto when the work feels heavy, these three habits never fail you:
Visibility. Be where the work happens. Walk the halls. Sit in classrooms. Ask how people are doing and mean it. Presence in the building is a promise: You matter enough for me to show up.
Consistency. Say what you’ll do, then do it. If plans change, explain why. Consistency turns intention into integrity.
Vulnerability. Own your missteps. Admit what you’re learning. Let people see that leadership is a work in progress, not a performance. Vulnerability doesn’t lower standards; it raises honesty.
When these habits line up, trust becomes self-sustaining. Teams start extending the same grace and accountability they see modeled from the top.
The Five-Minute Follow-Up
One of the simplest trust-building routines I’ve seen came from a middle-school principal I coached.
Every Friday afternoon, she scanned her week and sent five short notes:
“I appreciated our conversation Tuesday.”
“Thanks for jumping in with that student yesterday.”
“I know this week was tough. I noticed how you handled it.”
Five minutes. Five messages. That’s it.
It wasn’t about recognition; it was about memory, reminding people that what they do and who they are actually register with their leader. Those little notes built more goodwill than any staff incentive plan ever could.
Slowing Down to Build Speed Later
Here’s the paradox: when you slow down for connection, the work eventually speeds up. People spend less time guarding themselves and more time collaborating. They bring problems early, when they’re still solvable. They give you the benefit of the doubt when a decision stings.
You earn the space to lead hard conversations because you’ve already shown that you care about the people in them.
Trust doesn’t make the work easier, but it makes it more sustainable. It creates a culture where people will walk with you through change, not just comply until it passes.
A Question for the Week Ahead
Before your next staff meeting, ask yourself:
“Do my people know that I see them, really see them?”
If you’re not sure, take one small step.
Show up where you’re least expected.
Listen longer than feels efficient.
Follow up on something that doesn’t seem like a big deal.
Trust isn’t built in grand gestures. It’s built in hundreds of small ones that tell people, You can count on me.
And once they believe that, everything else, the vision, the change, the growth, becomes possible.
Sometimes the bravest thing a leader can do is slow down, show up, and let people see the real person behind the title.