Education Leadership

Purplemoon Monthly Musings – March- Educator Wellbeing: How Quiet Satisfaction Supports Sustainable Practice

By Jenny Bowers on

Purplemoon Monthly Musing

Posted 31st March 2026

How Quiet Satisfaction Supports Sustainable Practice

Welcome to Purplemoon Monthly Musings.

On the final Wednesday of every month Jenny will be posting out about a theme that has been appearing in her work, or her life, across all sectors. It could be a topic that particularly resonates with you, or it might be a new concept or idea to you. Either way the aim is to give voice to some thoughts, ponder some questions and explore what this might mean to us as individuals and as a community. Jenny will always aim to credit original sources as she explores the musings title and will welcome your comments and contributions to keep the musing going! This blog is also published on LinkedIn. Follow Jenny here.

Welcome to the March monthly musing, published on a Tuesday as we head into Easter holidays!

 

There’s a particular kind of moment that I really enjoy exploring in the supervision space.
It isn’t dazzling. It isn’t loud. It doesn’t ask to be celebrated.

It’s that quiet exhale; the subtle sense of I did something meaningful today.
Not perfect. Not extraordinary. Just quietly, deeply satisfying.

As educators in the UK, our working lives are filled with the idea of endless improvement: constant noise, moving on to the next thing, and focusing on the “even better ifs…”.

Then, when we’re asked to share something great,  a moment of joy, we are quite often brought to a sudden stop.
The default position is: “A what?”

Sometimes I see almost a flicker of panic in my supervisees’ faces as they try to pull a big, celebratory, major step forward from their memory banks.

 

However, when I ask them to tell me something that has brought them quiet satisfaction, a sense of a job well done, the shift is remarkable. Quite often I see deep thinking, shoulders dropping, a small smile… and then they share something.

This may be a quieter emotion, often overlooked, yet when brought into the space it can be deeply telling of where the supervisee is right now in their professional persona. And when encouraged to reflect on it daily, it can be profoundly sustaining for wellbeing, because it offers a grounded, stable moment of alignment between your effort and your purpose.

So, what could be a moment of quiet satisfaction?

Perhaps when:

  • You’ve had a calm, respectful conversation with a learner who usually finds connection difficult.
  • A parent leaves a meeting feeling heard rather than hurried.
  • A respectful conversation has occurred where everyone agrees clear next steps that will benefit all parties.
  • You finally complete that piece of paperwork that’s been silently sitting on your desk, accusingly, for weeks.
  • You notice a pupil mastering a skill not because of a grand intervention, but because of steady, intentional nudges from caring adults.
  • You end the day knowing you stayed true to your values, even when the system around you felt rushed.
  • You see a colleague putting a process in place that you have encouraged, and you see that they can see it has worked.

For leaders, these moments can be the most powerful of all. Joy can be fleeting, reactive, momentary. But quiet satisfaction often holds something deeper: continuity. A sense of slow, steady impact that accumulates over time. A sense that something is being embedded into culture and expectation, and therefore making a difference.

For leaders, it is also how we can recognise the impact we are having on learners and on the community. When we see others excelling, when systems we have built are working, there is a profound sense of purpose.

In emotionally demanding roles, this kind of satisfaction can be more nourishing than joy because:

  • It doesn’t require external validation.
  • It isn’t dependent on others responding in a particular way.
  • It anchors you, rather than lifting you into a high that may not last.
  • It reconnects you to the “why” behind the “what”.

This is not me saying “ignore the joy.” Quite the opposite. When I’m in a session and we explore what has brought quiet satisfaction to someone’s week or month, what usually follows is the declaration of a moment of joy.

Joy gives us a real hit of good hormones, and reliving that moment, sharing it with others, even “shouting it from the rooftops,’’ supports belonging, positive culture, and shifts in mindset. But joy is not always long-term or sustaining, and on a tough day or week it can be hard to spot.

Quiet satisfaction, however, is almost always there. Every day, there is something to be proud of or satisfied of, even if it is simply: “I stuck to my values,” or “I held that boundary.”

It is vital that alongside celebrating the moments of joy and feeling that big high, we also recognise the subtle, steady satisfaction that can sustain us through the academic year.

Quiet satisfaction is wisdom’s joy.
It’s the moment your soul nods and says, Yes, this mattered.

Your work is full of these small, powerful moments. Make sure you notice, and feel them.

Purplemoon Monthly Musings – January-Getting to the heart of it, Part Three-The Nolan Principles and the Inadvertent Harm They Can Cause

By Jenny Bowers on

Purplemoon Monthly Musing

Posted 28th January 2026

Getting to the Heart of It-Part 3-The Nolan Principles and the Inadvertent Harm They Can Cause- a Purplemoon Monthly Musing

Welcome to Purplemoon Monthly Musings.

On the final Wednesday of every month Jenny will be posting out about a theme that has been appearing in her work, or her life, across all sectors. It could be a topic that particularly resonates with you, or it might be a new concept or idea to you. Either way the aim is to give voice to some thoughts, ponder some questions and explore what this might mean to us as individuals and as a community. Jenny will always aim to credit original sources as she explores the musings title and will welcome your comments and contributions to keep the musing going! This blog is also published on LinkedIn. Follow Jenny here.

Welcome to the January monthly musing, the first of 2026, and the final instalment of the trilogy ‘Getting to the Heart of It’.

For those in education in the UK, and in other public sector roles, the influence of The Seven Principles of Public Life—the Nolan Principles—may not always be obvious. Yet they are the ethical foundation behind the Teachers’ Standards and underpin the Headteacher Standards that shape the expectations placed upon every teacher and leader. These seven principles are:

  • Selflessness
  • Integrity
  • Objectivity Accountability
  • Openness
  • Honesty
  • Leadership

On the surface, they appear reasonable, even admirable. But when they are translated into the Teachers’ Standards, their impact becomes more complex. The preamble states: 

‘Teachers make the education of their pupils their first concern and are accountable for achieving the highest possible standards in work and conduct.’

Part Two extends this further, requiring teachers to demonstrate consistently high standards

‘within and outside school.’

The implication is clear: once you become a teacher, your private and public conduct are held to the same uncompromising standards, you cannot be fallible, human.

 

This raises important questions. Where do these standards begin and end? To what extent are teachers responsible for navigating systemic, organisational or societal failings? What does selflessness mean when placed beside the very real need for self-care? Where does accountability for a student’s learning, behaviour and attitude start—and where should it reasonably finish?

This environment is the soil from which high‑stakes accountability has grown. How much do we take upon ourselves, when it is not our error or mistake to bear? This plays out in supervision again and again. What does selflessness really look like? In addition, for teachers, challenging poor behaviour or unethical practice from leaders can feel dangerous. The professional cost of speaking up is often high.

In Part Two of this trilogy, I discussed collusion and the importance of recognising, avoiding and managing it. But collusion does not only exist between colleagues or supervisors; supervisees may also be colluding and perpetuating toxicity or poor interpersonal behaviour unknowingly, their ‘norm’ reshaped by organisational culture.

These experiences form the backdrop of many conversations I now have in my supervisory role.

 I also look back and ask myself: how long did I collude? As a mentor and professional tutor, I assessed students and NQTs (now ECTs) against the very standards I am now interrogating. Did I know better? No, but somewhere within me I knew it didn’t quite sit right when taking a humanistic view. My overarching frame was ‘you do the best you can’, and ‘no one is perfect’ – but was it enough?

Teachers who step into leadership roles adopt the Headteacher Standards, which build upon the Teachers’ Standards and extend them further. Among these expectations is the requirement that 

‘Headteachers uphold and demonstrate the Seven Principles of Public Life at all times.’

The Standards also require leaders to behave ethically, fulfil their responsibilities fully, and model the behaviour of a ‘good citizen’. This shifts the expectation from doing the right thing to being the right thing—a significant leap.

 

There is a cost to this never‑ending selflessness, openness and accountability. We see it in recruitment and retention struggles, in burnout, and in leaders leaving the profession. And to my great sadness, leaving with a feeling that they weren’t ‘good enough’. To supervise effectively, we must recognise how deeply the Nolan Principles permeate the system.

This became clear during a discussion with my cross‑professional peer supervision group. The ethical frameworks for therapists explicitly include self‑care—a requirement notably absent from the teaching framework. The contrast created an ‘aha’ moment for all of us.

In supervision, we must help practitioners explore how ethical frameworks shape their decisions, self-perceptions and boundaries. What does it mean to uphold ethical and professional responsibilities while maintaining one’s own self?

I am not arguing for the removal of the Nolan Principles. Ethical standards matter deeply. But self-care must sit alongside them as an ethical imperative. Without it, selflessness becomes self‑erasure, accountability becomes fear, and leadership becomes unsustainable.

To truly serve pupils, colleagues and communities, teachers and leaders must be allowed to remain human first. Only then can they meet the ethical expectations of their profession with integrity rather than exhaustion.

Purplemoon Monthly Musings – November-Getting to the heart of it, Part Two-Congruence yes, Collusion no

By Jenny Bowers on

Purplemoon Monthly Musing

Posted 26th November 2025

Getting to the Heart of It-Part 2- Congruence Yes, Collusion No.- a Purplemoon Monthly Musing

Welcome to Purplemoon Monthly Musings.

On the final Wednesday of every month Jenny will be posting out about a theme that has been appearing in her work, or her life, across all sectors. It could be a topic that particularly resonates with you, or it might be a new concept or idea to you. Either way the aim is to give voice to some thoughts, ponder some questions and explore what this might mean to us as individuals and as a community. Jenny will always aim to credit original sources as she explores the musings title and will welcome your comments and contributions to keep the musing going! This blog is also published on LinkedIn. Follow Jenny here.

Welcome to part two of the ‘Getting to the heart of it’ trilogy. Some of you may have noticed that the purplemoon monthly musing inadvertently took a break in October! It wasn’t intentional, it is that I found part two tricky to coalesce.

This is because congruence is difficult at times,  and collusion can really turn up unintentionally when you are deeply relational and humanistic in your supervision, and creating psychological safety is of paramount importance.

 

What I do know is supervision is one of the most powerful spaces in leadership. It’s where we pause, reflect, and recalibrate. For education leaders, it’s a lifeline, a chance to process complexity and find clarity. To explore and reflect on self as well as others. For supervisors, it’s a responsibility, a commitment to hold space that is safe, honest, growth-oriented with a wellbeing lens. But within this dynamic, a subtle tension often arises: the pull between congruence and collusion.

Congruence is about alignment. It’s when our values, words, and actions harmonise. In supervision, congruence means showing up authentically—whether you’re the one offering guidance or the one receiving it. It’s about integrity: saying what you mean, meaning what you say, and acting in ways that reflect your principles. Congruence builds trust and therefore a psychologically safe space. It creates a foundation where real learning and wellbeing can flourish.

Collusion, on the other hand, is the quiet compromise. It’s the nod of agreement when your gut says, This needs exploring. It’s the temptation to avoid discomfort for the sake of harmony. Collusion can feel like kindness, but it’s not. It’s avoidance dressed up as empathy. And while it may soothe in the short term, it erodes growth in the long term.

 

So how does this show up in supervision?

For supervisors, the risk of collusion often comes when a supervisee shares something that feels ethically grey or professionally concerning. You might think, I don’t want to damage trust, and choose silence. But trust isn’t built on avoidance—it’s built on honesty delivered with care. Congruence means naming what you notice: I hear your perspective, and I wonder if we can explore the implications together. It’s not about confrontation; it’s about curiosity and courage.

For education leaders, collusion can look like self-protection. You might hold back in supervision because admitting uncertainty feels risky. You might agree with suggestions, ideas or comments you don’t believe in because challenging feels uncomfortable. But supervision is not a performance—it’s a partnership. Congruence means bringing your whole self into the conversation: your doubts, your questions, your convictions. It’s about trusting that growth comes through honesty, not through pretending.

Here’s the truth: congruence is hard. It asks us to be clear about our values and brave enough to live them out. It asks supervisors to balance support with challenge, and supervisees to embrace vulnerability without fear. But when both sides commit to congruence, supervision becomes transformative.

What does this look like in practice?

  • For supervisors:
    • Hold boundaries with compassion. Empathise without excusing.
    • Name what you notice. Sometimes the most supportive act is surfacing what’s unsaid: I sense some tension—shall we explore that?
    • Stay anchored in purpose. Supervision is not about pleasing; it’s about partnering for growth.
  • For supervisees:
    • Bring your authentic self. Share the wins and the worries.
    • Ask for challenge as well as support. Growth rarely happens in comfort zones.
    • Reflect on alignment. Where do your actions match your values—and where do they drift?

Both roles require courage and compassion. Courage to speak truth, even when silence feels safer. Compassion to hold differences without judgement. When these qualities meet, supervision becomes a space of integrity—a place where leaders are not just managed but mentored, not just supported but strengthened.

So here’s the invitation for this month:

  • If you supervise, notice where collusion tempts you. Where do you soften truths or avoid challenge? What would congruence look like instead?
  • If you are supervised, notice where you hold back. Where do you agree for ease rather than honesty? What would it mean to show up whole?

Because getting to the heart of it is not about perfection. It’s about presence—anchored, authentic, and willing to walk the harder path for the sake of growth. Congruence calls us to alignment, even when it’s uncomfortable. Collusion tempts us with ease, but it costs us trust—and ultimately, wellbeing.

Supervision done well is a courageous conversation. Let’s make it count.