By midcareer, the work shifts. Leaders are no longer learning the role so much as living inside it, balancing momentum with sustainability, conviction with humility. They lead from a steadier but maybe more demanding middle ground.
This article appeared as "Reflections on Sabbatical” in the Summer 2026 issue of Independent School.
Anne-Marie Kee
When I first became head of school in August 2017, my mentor reminded me that the skills that got me the job are not necessarily the ones that will allow me to keep the job.
I remembered this when my board encouraged me to take a one-term sabbatical, a term in my second five-year contract, during my ninth year as head of school. There would be two goals: to learn and to rejuvenate. I knew I had to take it, but would there ever be a good time? We were in the final stages of $45 million construction projects, and I knew I’d always find reasons not to take time away.
The tipping point was when I realized it could coincide with my husband Kevin’s yearlong sabbatical. He’s been the dean of arts at a university for 10 years and living in a different city—this was our time to go away together.
The board approved my proposal to travel from January to April 2026 in Australia (where sabbaticals are the norm) to tour and learn from schools and universities. In total, we visited 20 schools and two universities.
I knew that the value of visiting schools is actually spending time with school leaders, so I shared a few discussion topics in advance of our meetings to help make them more engaging. The conversations exceeded my expectations. Educators shared their latest initiatives, including new parent partnerships, Indigenous projects, and career pathway programs. Many Australian schools offer unique experiences for grade nine students. One is Geelong Grammar School’s Timbertop Campus near Mansfield, Victoria, where ninth graders focus on self-reliance, physical challenge, and character development away from the real world.
We also talked about our challenges and opportunities, which are surprisingly similar, such as teens and AI, well-being and social media. After each visit, I filled my notebook with reflections and ideas and inspiration. Goal No. 1: To learn? Check.
But the second goal––rejuvenation––was perhaps the most important one. Kevin and I did some of the best hiking of our lives on the South Island of New Zealand. We also explored incredible places, like the Buku-Larrnggay Mulka Centre, a world-renowned Indigenous community-controlled art center, as well as the Great Barrier Reef and the vineyards of
St. Margaret’s. I lived joyfully, reestablishing that I am more than my job. I reminded myself how good it felt to “only connect” with myself, my spouse of 32 years, new colleagues, and the world around me.
I returned to my campus with a new perspective and a sense of urgency. Competition for boarding students is global and real. We need to evolve our business model to ensure long-term sustainability. We need to innovate and accelerate learning with AI, while retaining our best traditions. We need to harness our unique value proposition, which for us is our 360-acre waterfront campus and a staff that is passionate about connecting with teenagers and supporting them into adulthood, especially in the outdoors.
I’ve also returned to the people I love with a deeper commitment to being intentional about inspiring change in a manner that is respectful to my already hardworking colleagues. I believe our role as leaders is first and foremost to care for the caregivers, ensuring that the culture of our school remains positive.
Nine years ago, I understood my mentor’s advice intellectually. It took this sabbatical to understand and fully feel it. Stepping away reminded me that perspective, renewal, and humility are not luxuries of leadership—they are essential skills themselves. I return renewed, not just in energy but in being better prepared for the long work of leading well. My hope is that more heads have the courage to explore sabbaticals. The future success of our schools will only benefit and our students deserve such leadership.
Richard Ulffers
In the fall of 2025, after 10 years of nonstop motion as head of school, I took an intentional pause—three months in Paris—not as a retreat from leadership but as a chance to recalibrate it. I slowed the pace, reflected with meaning, and returned with new clarity.
Paris offered the ideal setting for this change in tempo. As a leader of a school with a French and English bilingual program, being in France underscored the importance of deep, intentional learning in two academic languages. Freed from the immediacy of daily operations, I had space to think more expansively about leadership—its purpose, sustainability, and long-term impact. The absence of urgency created room for perspective.
Even within this slower rhythm, I remained meaningfully connected to the school. Regular touchpoints with the board—through committee work, governance training, and scheduled meetings—maintained continuity and alignment while reinforcing a key principle: Leadership does not always require constant proximity to be effective. I also stayed in periodic contact with my administrative team, whose strength and cohesion allowed the school’s daily work to continue seamlessly. Their leadership was both reassuring and affirming, a clear sign of a healthy institution where leadership is shared, trusted, and distributed.
A highlight of the sabbatical was a weeklong peer evaluation visit in Izmir, Turkey, with the Council of International Schools. Working alongside international educators to support another school’s accreditation provided a valuable shift in perspective. Observing classrooms, engaging with diverse faculty, and contributing to institutional reflection in a different context reminded me of the common threads that unite international education and challenged me to think more critically and creatively about my own school’s practices.
This experience in Paris was not simply about slowing down; it was about recognizing the systems and relationships that made such a pause possible. Stepping into a different rhythm was the result of a strong partnership with my board and a deeply capable leadership team, reflecting a shared commitment to trust, sustainability, and long-term thinking. In many ways, the sabbatical became a measure of the institution’s health itself.
As I return to my role, I do so with renewed purpose and perspective. The change of pace allowed me to see beyond the immediacy of daily demands and reconnect with the broader arc of leadership: setting vision, cultivating people, and stewarding culture. It reinforced the idea that leadership is not only about presence and action, but also about reflection and intentionality.
I return with a deeper sense of balance and clarity, and I would encourage fellow leaders to consider carving out similar time for reflection.