One of my directors was expanding her center.

She was an exceptional leader — highly successful, deeply respected by families, and known for running a strong, healthy program. Enrollment was steady. Staff turnover was low. Her classrooms were beautiful and well-managed.

When the opportunity came to add a new preschool classroom for the upcoming school year, she was genuinely excited. She had worked hard to grow enrollment. She carefully ordered new furniture and classroom supplies. The vision for the room was clear in her mind.

Before the school year began, she hired a preschool teacher who met every qualification. Solid experience. Strong interview. Great references. A good hire.

A week before opening, the new teacher and her assistant were asked to set up the classroom and decorate it in preparation for the first day.

They worked for hours.

They arranged the furniture.
They created bulletin boards.
They designed a parent communication wall.
They selected a theme and brought warmth into the space.

When they left that day, they felt proud. Ready. Excited.

But when the director walked into the finished classroom, she was disappointed.

Some of the bulletin boards weren’t aligned the way she would have done them. The theme felt a bit off from her original vision. The parent wall wasn’t arranged quite how she imagined.

This wasn’t about ego. It wasn’t about insecurity.

She simply cared — deeply.

She cared about consistency. About presentation. About quality. She had built her program carefully, and she didn’t want to see standards slip.

So when the teacher stepped out for her break, the director adjusted it.

She straightened the boards.
Rearranged displays.
Changed a few visual elements.

She didn’t say anything.

When the teacher returned, she immediately noticed.

Nothing dramatic was said in that moment. But something subtle shifted.

The director had every right to expect a certain standard.

But how she went about it wasn’t oversight.

It was overcontrol.

A few days later — before the school year even began — that teacher resigned.

This time, there was no guessing.

She shared her reason clearly.

She said she felt micromanaged. She said she felt deeply hurt that her work had been changed without even a conversation. She explained that she would have been open to the suggestions — in fact, she even said the adjustments looked good.

But she couldn’t get past how it made her feel.

That conversation stayed with the director.

Not because she was defensive.
Not because she disagreed with the feedback.

But because she realized something sobering:

She had protected the look of the classroom…
and unintentionally wounded the confidence of the teacher.

It was a moment — not a pattern.

An excellent leader, deeply invested in quality, simply lost sight of the person while focusing on the product.

And it cost her.

There’s a phrase many leaders quietly live by:

“If I want something done right, I need to do it myself.”

But here’s the truth:

Leadership isn’t doing it right yourself. It’s teaching others to do it right without you.

That shift is the difference between controlling a room… and building a team.

The Fine Line Between Oversight and Overcontrol

As leaders, we are responsible for standards.

Licensing standards.
Safety standards.
Quality standards.
Brand standards.

Oversight ensures those standards are met.

But overcontrol quietly communicates something different:

“I don’t trust you.”

It says:

“Even when you do your best, I will redo it.”

The difference between coaching and controlling is not authority — it’s development.

Oversight asks:
“Is this meeting our standard?”

Control assumes:
“I must fix this myself.”

Coaching asks:
“How can I help you grow into this standard?”

That shift changes everything.

Why Leaders Slip Into Control

Most directors do not micromanage because they crave control.

They micromanage because they care.

They care about:

• Licensing visits
• Parent impressions
• Reputation
• Consistency
• Their own credibility

Sometimes control comes from fear.

“If this doesn’t look right, parents will question us.”

“If licensing walks in…”

“If I don’t fix it now, it will reflect on me.”

Sometimes it comes from exhaustion.

It feels faster to redo something than to teach someone how to refine it.

But here is the truth:

Control may solve the moment.
Coaching builds the future.

The Hidden Cost of Overcontrol

When that classroom was adjusted without a conversation, something subtle happened.

The teacher learned:

“My best effort wasn’t enough.”
“My voice in this space doesn’t fully matter.”
“I should wait to see what she changes next time.”

Over time, that dynamic creates:

• Hesitation
• Dependency
• Reduced initiative
• Emotional distance

Eventually, the leader becomes overwhelmed — because everyone waits for approval.

Micromanagement creates the very workload leaders are trying to avoid.

The Coaching Shift

Coaching does not mean lowering standards.

It means raising people to meet them.

Instead of adjusting silently, the director could have said:

“I love the warmth you’ve created here. Can we walk through a few adjustments together so it aligns with our overall center style?”

That single sentence preserves dignity.

It acknowledges effort.

It invites collaboration.

Coaching often begins with a simple shift:

Ask before you tell.

Instead of:
“Move this here.”

Try:
“What was your thought behind this layout?”

Instead of fixing immediately, ask:
“How do you think this aligns with our preschool vision?”

Those questions develop thinking.

And thinking builds ownership.

The Growth Ladder

Strong leaders move staff through stages:

Model — Show what excellence looks like.
Practice — Allow them to try without interruption.
Autonomy — Step back while maintaining accountability.
Leadership — Invite them to mentor others.

When leaders interrupt the practice stage by redoing the work, growth stalls.

Oversight checks.
Coaching develops.
Control interrupts.

Observation Without Immediate Correction

Not every imperfection requires instant action.

If something is:

• Not a safety issue
• Not a licensing issue
• Not harmful

Pause.

Take notes.

Schedule time to review together.

Correcting privately and collaboratively builds trust.

Fixing silently builds distance.

Accountability Still Matters

Let’s be clear.

Coaching is not passivity.

It does not mean:

• Letting standards slip
• Avoiding hard conversations
• Accepting mediocrity

If, after coaching, expectations are not met, correction becomes necessary.

But correction should follow clarity — not replace it.

Coaching and accountability work together.

A Leadership Mirror

If you find yourself thinking:

“It’s just easier if I do it.”

Pause.

Ask:

• Have I clearly defined the standard?
• Have I allowed room for growth?
• Am I correcting to improve — or correcting to control?
• Have I created dependency by stepping in too quickly?

Strong leadership multiplies capacity.

It does not centralize it.

Reflection

• Where might you be over-involved?
• Where are you unintentionally creating hesitation?
• Are you correcting in private — or fixing in silence?
• Do your staff feel trusted?

Control feels productive in the moment.

Coaching builds sustainable excellence.

Key Takeaways

• Oversight protects standards. Overcontrol erodes trust.
• Coaching develops people; controlling develops dependency.
• Leadership isn’t doing it right yourself — it’s teaching others to do it right without you.
• Ask before you tell.
• Model, then allow practice before stepping in.
• Protect dignity while maintaining accountability.
• Not every imperfection requires immediate correction.
• Leadership multiplies capacity — it does not hoard it.

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