Failing: Totally. Utterly. Absolutely. The Lessons That Remain.

Standing in The Aftermath

In Part 1, I shared the raw emotional reality of what it felt like to Fail: Totally. Utterly. Absolutely. I described the shame, silence, and grief that followed. I still carry the Grade 4 with me; it’s my name on that Ofsted report. But I carry it alongside the values, challenges, and progress that led to it.

What follows aren’t platitudes. These are the scars that have been etched into me by that experience. Scars I now carry forever.

When you’re in the eye of the storm, everything feels urgent and insurmountable. But with time and space, you begin to move beyond the constant weight of dread, gaining the distance needed to see things more clearly. The chaos begins to make sense, and you start to understand the lessons hidden within.

This next part isn’t about fixing or bouncing back. It’s about what I’ve learned, standing in the aftermath. The pain doesn’t simply vanish, but it does begin to teach. I’ve gained deep insights from that experience. Some lessons were new. Others reinforced truths I was already aware of. All of them left a mark.

Ten Scars That Refined My Leadership:

1. Leadership can be lonely, but that’s not always failure.
   We love to talk about collaboration. But there are moments when the buck stops, hard, with you. That loneliness isn’t failure. It is the price of holding ground no one else can, or will.
2. Silence isn’t neutral. It’s a choice.
   Private support means nothing if it stays private. I’ve had colleagues whisper agreement in hallways, then fall silent in rooms that matter. Was it fear? Of conflict, of alienation, of becoming the target? Perhaps. But silence always favours the status quo. If something matters, say it. Even if your voice shakes. When you choose to speak, people at least hear you. When you choose silence, you’ve already been heard.
3. Systems are not safety nets.
   I once thought that doing the right thing, making principled decisions and protecting students, would automatically be supported by the external systems that govern education and hold institutions accountable. Over time, I learned that these systems don’t always work in ways I expect, and relying on them as safety nets can be limiting. Regardless of external support or challenges, I’ve learned that true leadership requires resilience and a deep commitment to purpose.
4. Communication is everything.
   In times of conflict, you must over-communicate. Others will spin the narrative if you do not. Misinformation spreads fast. But honesty, clarity, and transparency, even if they don’t win everyone over, build trust and ground your leadership.
5. Find your allies and be flexible.
   Even in the hardest moments, there are people who get it. They might not shout it from the rooftops, but they’re there. Honest, reflective and grounded conversations with those people, can make all the difference. Being values-driven doesn’t mean being rigid. Reassessing a decision isn’t weakness. It is wisdom. A trusted circle helps with this: people who can challenge you, support you, and help you see when to hold the line and when to adapt.
6. Your body will fail before your resolve does.
   Wellness is a leadership issue. The skipped workouts, the ignored persistent heartburn, the nights staring at ceilings and the days walking around with bile in my mouth were worn like badges of ‘commitment.’ I pushed through when I should’ve paused. I ignored what my body was telling me. I thought strength meant endurance. I now understand that self-care isn’t selfish and leadership isn’t martyrdom. Leadership is sustainable. True courage isn’t enduring the unendurable. Sometimes, the bravest act is deciding to walk away before your health makes the decision for you.
7. Address toxicity head-on.
   Toxic cultures don’t fix themselves. Avoiding toxicity only feeds it. The longer the conversation is delayed, the more damage is done, especially to those who want change but feel powerless to make it happen. Addressing it takes courage and compassion. Being kind and being clear aren’t opposites. In fact, true kindness is making the powerless feel empowered by saying what needs to be said.
8. Follow through on change.
   If you announce change, you must see it through. Stopping redundancies midway due to lockdown felt right at the time, but prolonging difficult processes ultimately created more destabilisation. The lesson is this: half-completed change can cause more disruption than sticking to the plan, even when it’s tough.
9. Keep your eyes on the bigger picture.
   It’s easy to get consumed by daily battles. But you have to zoom out. Delegate. Step back. Stay focused on the organisation’s overall direction. Losing that perspective, even for a moment, has consequences. I learned that the hard way.
10. Students must stay at the heart.
    My students were always my focus. And they are the only ones to whom I owe an apology. Their experience, their futures, these were my responsibility. Through everything, I fought to protect their learning, their exams and assessments, their progression. To me, that mattered more than anything. Yet for months, I couldn’t give them what they deserved, what they had trusted me to provide. That will haunt me forever. I hope one day they can forgive me. I hope one day I can forgive myself. My personal mission to enhance the lives of students remains unchanged. Every decision I take must answer the same question: Is this truly right for them? I cannot promise that I always get it right. But that is the standard I hold myself to, and I always will.

Pride in Scars

These lessons have shaped not only how I lead but who I am. They are the scars and wisdom that remain. They are proof of the battles fought and the resilience that endures. I showed up for the fight, and somehow, I both won and lost.

To every leader reading this: your identity, who you truly are, is not defined by a single event. Let scars remind you of your strength. Let lessons fuel your resolve to be the leader others deserve.

And if this finds you in your storm, when the weight threatens to pull you under, remember this: Failure shatters, but never defines us. The reckoning lies in how we gather the pieces, deciding which to carry forward and which to leave behind. For those still counting on you, this is the work that remains: Rebuild stronger. Wiser. More values-driven than ever before, yet relentlessly focused on what truly matters.

By Mandeep Gill