As I watched my kids fly down the greenway on their bikes, their laughter trailing behind, I couldn’t help but think back to how they first began their two-wheeled journeys. The early days were slow, awkward, and sometimes frustrating…feet dragging on the pavement, handlebars wobbling, and the occasional topple into the grass. It took time, courage, and plenty of practice to get to this point. But more than anything, it took trust. 

At first, they had to trust me when I promised I wouldn’t let go. Then came that inevitable moment when they had to trust themselves: to believe that they could keep the momentum going even when they couldn’t feel my hands there any more. (There may have also been a bit of misplaced trust in the dog not to dart into their path.) 

Trust is the foundation of so many of our relationships, and yet, it’s not something we can demand. It’s something we nurture. Over time, and across a variety of schools, I’ve learned just how fragile that foundation can be. Trust builds slowly but can be worn down quickly. 

I’ve caught myself wondering:
Will this parent challenge a book?
Will this colleague roll their eyes the moment I walk away?
Will my school stand behind me if someone sees my inclusive efforts as a threat? 

Those questions don’t come from nowhere. They’re the echoes of moments when trust cracked: sometimes in small ways, sometimes in ways that felt seismic. And yet, trust can be rebuilt. Sometimes, it starts with a shift inside us. 

The thing is, you can’t force trust. It doesn’t work that way. Telling yourself to trust someone is like trying to will yourself to sleep when you’re wide awake.  It’s frustrating, unproductive, and often counterproductive. But what you can do is begin with yourself. 

You can choose to trust that your decisions are grounded in care, research, and experience. You can trust that the resources you share are meaningful and that your instincts are worth following. You can trust that when you make a mistake (and you will) you’ll have the humility to own it and the curiosity to grow from it. 

Self-trust is so deeply tied to self-worth that I can’t help but hope that by strengthening one, I’m nurturing the other. When we trust ourselves, we loosen our grip on fear and control. We start to believe that others, too, are doing their best, even if their approach looks different from ours. 

That doesn’t mean abandoning discernment or letting go of healthy boundaries. It means choosing to lead with openness instead of suspicion. For me, it means remembering that the colleague whose tone felt dismissive might just be having a bad day. The parent whose email seems confrontational may simply be advocating fiercely for their child out of love. 

Choosing trust costs me nothing—but it can change everything about how I show up. 

So, this year, I’m going all-in on trust, especially self-trust. Because when we trust ourselves, we act with confidence. We move with clarity. And we create the kind of environment where trust can take root in others, too. 

Here’s some of where I’m placing my trust: 

  • I trust that I’ve made sound, professional decisions for my library. Hours of review and research, conversations with colleagues, and attention to student needs have shaped those choices. 
  • I trust that I’ve taken the time to understand our curriculum well enough to make informed, supportive recommendations for my colleagues. My work is not random; it’s responsive. 
  • I trust that my work reflects and reinforces our school’s mission, values, and affirmation of community. Even in difficult conversations, I can stand on that foundation. 

What about you? What would it look like for you to lean into trust this year? Maybe for you, the focus isn’t trust at all. Whatever it is, I hope you take a moment to name it. Write it on a sticky note. Save it as your phone’s lock screen. Share it with a friend who can help you live it. Because, just like learning to ride a bike, living out an intention takes time, practice, and the occasional wobble.  

So, what’s your intention for the year? I’d love to hear your personal motto or mindset, and how it’s shaping the way you show up each day. Share your reflections in the comments.