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WORTH THE SCROLL
A growing collection of ideas, graphics, and conversations designed to encourage women to lead with confidence and purpose.
Dream Big
There was a time when I thought all I needed was a haircut. At 10 years old, I wanted nothing more than to play on our local Little League team. I played baseball with the neighborhood boys after school, had a strong batting average, and could hit the ball out of our little field. I honestly believed I had earned my place.
My father, who sponsored several Little League teams, told me I couldn't play because there were "no girls" allowed. So I did what made perfect sense to a 10-year-old. I went into the bathroom, cut off my hair, and tried to look like a boy. It didn't work.
Looking back, I wasn't trying to become someone else. I was trying to fit into a world that hadn't yet imagined girls belonged there. Thankfully, we've made progress. But there are still moments when women feel pressure to change how they look, speak, lead, or dream in order to be accepted.
Here's what I hope every young woman knows: Don't spend your life trying to become what others expect. Become exceptionally good at being yourself.
The world doesn't need fewer women who stand out. It needs more.
I'll Have What She's Having
I was a classroom teacher finishing my Educational Leadership program when our professor asked, "What's your ultimate career goal?" Around the room, everyone answered, "Principal."
Then one classmate, Debbie, confidently said, "I want to become a superintendent." I remember thinking, Wow... that's gutsy. When it was my turn, I surprised even myself.
"I want to do what Debbie wants to do," I said. "I want to become a superintendent." It was the first time I had ever spoken those words out loud.
Looking back, I realize that was the moment everything changed. Sometimes your dream doesn't begin because you've had it your whole life. Sometimes it begins the moment you give yourself permission to say it.
Never underestimate the power of speaking your dream out loud. It just might be the first step toward making it real.
The Degree That Changed More Than My Résumé
When I was a school principal, I knew I wanted to become a superintendent. I also knew that earning my doctorate would help open those doors. At the time, only a handful of women were leading school districts in Orange County, and every one of them had a doctorate. That told me something.
My doctorate gave me more than credentials. It gave me confidence. It challenged me to think differently, strengthened my voice, and helped me walk into interviews believing I belonged at the table. Looking back, it was one of the best investments I ever made.
The Knock on My Office Door
One afternoon when I was serving as a superintendent, a teacher knocked on my office door. She asked if she could speak with me for a few minutes. "I want to become a principal," she said. "Would you be my mentor?" I have never forgotten that conversation.
She didn't ask because she wanted someone to hand her a promotion. She asked because she wanted someone to challenge her, answer tough questions, open a few doors, and believe in her before she fully believed in herself.
The truth is, asking for a mentor may be one of the smartest career decisions you'll ever make. The research is surprising: 63% of women who aspire to leadership say they've never had a formal mentor. Imagine how much talent we're leaving on the table.
If you're looking for a mentor, don't wait for one to find you. Reach out to someone you admire. Ask them to meet for coffee or a glass of wine. Be specific about what you hope to learn. Respect their time. Then do the work.
Advice I'd Give My Younger Self
A young colleague recently asked me, "What would you tell your younger self?" My answer came without hesitation. Move sooner.
I spent nearly ten years as a middle school principal. I loved my school, my staff, and my students. But looking back, I also stayed because it was comfortable.
I've learned that comfort and growth rarely travel together.
If I could do it over again, I'd tell my younger self: Take the next opportunity. Work in different districts. Learn from different leaders. Serve different communities. Stretch yourself.
Every new role teaches you something no graduate class ever could.
Looking back, I discovered leadership strengths I never knew I had. My only regret is that I waited so long to find them.
Don't mistake comfort for calling. Sometimes the greatest growth begins the moment you're willing to leave what you already do well.
Preparing for the Journey
Someone once asked me, "Did you have a plan to become a superintendent?"
"I had several." One of the best decisions I made was attending the ACSA California Superintendent's Academy while I was still a principal. For the first time, experienced superintendents pulled back the curtain and talked honestly about the job, the politics, the pressure, the loneliness, and the incredible privilege of leading a district.
One lesson that changed my career was when I realized I knew enough finance to run a school, but not enough to run a district. So I got to work. I attended the School Business Management Academy, shadowed our chief business official, asked hundreds of questions, and studied school finance until it finally clicked.
Then I did something that surprised everyone, including me. While teaching graduate leadership courses, I asked if I could teach a course on school finance. The dean laughed. "Marilou, you're not a finance person."
"I will be." Preparing to teach the course forced me to master it. Sometimes the fastest way to learn something is to teach it.
The Phone Call
Sometimes success arrives in a phone call. But it begins years earlier. I still remember the day. It was Memorial Day weekend. I had just finished another superintendent interview and drove home thinking what most candidates think: "I did the best I could."
By then, I had learned not to replay every answer or second-guess every response. Once the interview is over, there's nothing left to do but wait.
Then my phone rang. It was the search consultant. "The Board has selected you as their first choice."
For a moment, everything became very quiet. What looked like one phone call was actually years in the making. It was graduate school. Earning my doctorate. Learning from exceptional mentors. Taking on leadership opportunities that stretched me. Every success. Every setback. Every lesson.
People often see the moment you arrive. They rarely see the years you spent preparing to be ready when the opportunity finally came. Looking back, I didn't become a superintendent because of one phone call. I became a superintendent because I had spent years becoming the person who was ready to answer it.
Mean Girls
There was one conversation recently that stayed with me. I asked a successful woman what she liked about her job.
"I love the work," she said. "I've been promoted, I make a good salary, and there are opportunities to keep growing." Then she paused. "The hardest part is my boss. She's another woman."
She described being criticized publicly, dismissed when she raised concerns, and treated differently than her male colleagues. Sadly, I've heard versions of this story throughout my career.
Women have fought hard to earn seats at leadership tables. That's exactly why we can't afford to make the journey harder for one another. Research has shown that workplace bullying often occurs between women, and we've all seen examples of the "Queen Bee" mentality. Whether it comes from insecurity, competition, or old stereotypes, the result is the same: everyone loses.
The women leaders who made the biggest difference in my life did the opposite. They shared opportunities. They opened doors. They encouraged instead of competed. Behind many successful women is another woman who chose to help rather than hinder. Let's make that the legacy we leave.
Don't Take it Personally
The biggest surprise about becoming a superintendent wasn't the responsibility. It was realizing that not everyone was happy that I was there.
As a principal, I honestly believed that if you worked hard, treated people well, and made good decisions, people would naturally get behind you. Then I became a superintendent.
I quickly realized that every leadership change creates uncertainty. Some people had hoped for the job themselves. Others wondered what changes I would make. And some simply sat back to see whether I would succeed.
At first, I took it personally.
But over time I learned something that changed the way I led. People don't have to believe in you on your first day. Trust isn't something you ask for. It's something you earn. So instead of trying to convince people, I focused on doing the work. I listened more than I talked. I stayed true to my values. I tried to treat everyone with respect, even when we saw things differently.
Little by little, relationships changed. The skepticism wasn't really about me. It was about the uncertainty that comes with any new leader. Looking back, I think one of the most important jobs of a leader is to bring a sense of steadiness when everyone else is wondering what's coming next. People may not trust the title right away. But they learn to trust the person behind it.
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