What else is there to do on a snowy DC weekend but watch the latest season of Queer Eye, Netflix’s feel-good makeover show?
Imagine my surprise when one of the “heroes” is a Digital Pioneers Academy (DPA) teacher, Michael Devereaux, and Mashea Ashton, DPA’s Founder and Executive Director, is featured throughout the episode. DPA is a longtime partner of School Leader Lab.
I loved this episode. DPA, Mr. Devereaux, Mashea and her staff getting the shine they deserve. The honesty about the relentless violence our students face. The messaging about educators being under appreciated. And so much more.
One element that stuck out to me was that Mr. Devereaux refused to engage in his own makeover unless the school could get one too. Because of that, the episode isn’t just his story. It’s about the whole school, staff joy, and what it takes to pour into educators. In a one-on-one sit-down, Karamo, the show’s culture expert, asks Mashea about joy. She gets vulnerable: “We’ve gotten away from it a little bit. The days are short, so how do you pack it all in?”
She didn’t posture like she had the answer. It’s hard. That’s the answer. Especially at a growing school where four students were fatally shot in one academic year. Sometimes the mission feels too big to find time for levity, a feeling many leaders, myself included, know well. Mashea was willing to be honest so her staff could reap the benefit.
If Mashea’s moment with Karamo wasn’t powerful enough, when the staff sees the teachers’ lounge? Goodness.
When they walk in after interior designer Jeremiah Brent’s makeover, they are stunned. The room looks straight out of Restoration Hardware magazine. Plush couches. Olive trees. Artwork. They marvel in astonishment.
But it’s when they see the coffee machines that they really start to lose it. And the fridge stocked with cold Pellegrinos? They literally jump and shriek in delight.
Why do the beverages seal the deal? It isn’t only about cold drinks and fresh coffee. It’s about inviting ease into a busy school day. It’s about being seen and treated as an adult. It’s about feeling like you have a job with perks, no matter how small.
It isn’t a Pellegrino. It’s dignity.
Without fail, when people attend SLL programming they comment on the food and the drinks. They say out loud, “Wait, am I allowed to have that coke? That’s for me? And it’s cold? Oh my goodness. Just what I needed.” This doesn’t happen by accident. As a team, we read Unreasonable Hospitality by Will Guidara, owner of Eleven Madison Park, once voted the number one restaurant in the world. We turned what we learned into replicable operations. We analyze entry surveys for favorite snacks and keep them stocked. We plan for how we greet at each doorway.
Here’s what it says in our Policy Handbook:
“The leaders who walk into our Learning Labs carry a lot. They are running buildings, managing crises, and being relentless on behalf of kids. When they are with us, even for a few hours, we want them to exhale. To feel held and prepared to be challenged. That does not happen by accident. It happens because we sweat the details they may never even consciously notice.”
We wrote that for ourselves. But the principle applies to any building where adults show up and do hard work. You don’t need the Fab Five to build everyday hospitality. What matters is consistency. Make it part of someone’s job — maybe an AP, maybe whoever works the front desk — to create a sustained experience.
The point isn’t going big. It’s, “we thought about you today.”
Listen, I’m a former school leader. When you’ve got demands on your time, DC CAPE coming and instruction to see, whether or not the teachers’ lounge has snacks can feel like the least of your concerns. When folks complain about such things and don’t notice all your other efforts, it can feel frustrating, trivial, and downright ridiculous. I’ve definitely been the leader who has gotten deeply annoyed by “the room was too cold” or “it’d be nice to have warm breakfast” on surveys.
Still, I’ve had to learn over time that it’s really not trivial. Google spends millions to have the top chefs in the world at the Googleplex. My lawyer friend goes on an annual company ski trip to Switzerland. I understand the “educators didn’t get into this for the money” adage (which is a whole different newsletter I have in me), but surely we can give the hardest working folks in the world a cold coke after a hard day of teaching and not shame them for wanting it.
And this isn’t just benevolence. It pays off. Seventy-nine percent of employees who leave say lack of appreciation was the reason. Ninety percent say they put in more effort when their work gets noticed. People who feel consistently cared for don’t just stay. They show up differently. They stay late for the kid who needs it. They mentor the new hire without being asked. They bring energy to the hallway instead of draining it. No one gives their best to a thankless job.
Now, none of this replaces the fundamentals. A purpose-driven environment, strong leadership, trust, clear and kind feedback. The cold coke lands differently when your staff already feels cared for personally and challenged directly in ways that support their professional growth. Without that, the gestures can feel hollow. But when the foundation is there, these small consistent signals make a difference. It’s the cherry, not the sundae. And most of the leaders reading this are already building that sundae every day.
I once got feedback that sits with me to this day. “You have a vision we all admire. And we see you running that race. Just remember there are others who want to run that race with you. Look back sometimes and make sure we’re still with you.” Maybe caring about the little things, the snacks and the coffee and the cold cokes, is part of what your team needs to feel in the marathon with you. And for you to slow down and make sure they’re still in the fight.