Systems Over Struggle

By Ryan Bradford

It’s time for me to confess something. As a former teacher, site administrator, and current Director of Technology, I find it very easy to get caught up in shiny object syndrome and, as Robert mentioned in his last post, constantly being on the lookout for the next great tool that will solve all of our problems. I’m looking at you, every new AI tool currently being pushed on social media as the savior of education, even though you’ve only been on the market for three months!

The challenge with this mindset is that a single tool will not change anything, especially if you purchase it without a system for implementing it. If you don’t believe me, go into your closet, pantry, or garage, and I’m sure you will find a purchase for some item that promised to revolutionize your life, but it now sits and gathers dust because you purchased it without a plan for implementing it.

What creates change is the system behind a tool. 

I know for some of our readers, the idea of creating systems is not very appealing and can seem pointless. It would be amazing if we could just show up to our schools, open up our laptops, and get to work. Trust me, I wish we could work that way.

Our current reality is that we work in a complex education world with multiple variables, unpredictability, and an increasingly complex world of legal compliance. Without coherent systems in place, this reality can quickly become overwhelming and unsustainable and lead to burnout and stress. All of these factors, when combined, lead to good people leaving our profession, which ultimately leads to our students not getting the education that they deserve. 

So, how can we, as educators, navigate this complex environment and foster an ecosystem that supports the long-term well-being and success of our students and staff?

For Robert and me, the answer lies in creating better systems.   

By Robert Mayfield

As a teacher, TOSA, and instructor, I live at the intersection of classroom reality and system-level decision-making. I teach AP Human Geography, and one of the foundational concepts we explore is scales of analysis—the ability to examine patterns and processes at various levels: individual, community, national, and global. That concept applies directly to education reform as well. If we truly want to improve schools, we have to think in terms of systems—at every scale.

Unfortunately, most systems in education are broken—or barely functioning. Feedback, for example, is often accidental or reactive. Reflection is scheduled quarterly, if at all. Far too often, it’s sparked not by authentic curiosity or strategic purpose, but by outside pressure—an upcoming WASC visit, a mandated LCAP survey, or an accountability deadline.

What if we flipped that? What if we built weekly systems—lightweight, sustainable habits—for meaningful reflection and real-time feedback? Teachers would learn more about their students, not just data. Instruction would improve. Collective efficacy would rise. We’d ask harder questions about our practice and stop recycling ineffective routines.

But the real issue isn’t just the absence of reflection. It’s that most educational “systems” are pseudosystems—they look good in a slide deck or WASC report, but they don’t meaningfully shape what happens in classrooms. Districts pour tens of thousands into high-profile consultants with solid ideas, but without well-executed systems for follow-up, implementation fizzles. New initiatives come and go like seasonal decor—engaging, maybe even inspiring, but not transformational.

Meanwhile, teachers—starved of structure—build their own microsystems to survive. Some are brilliant, but they’re isolated. The result is a patchwork of silos, each doing their own thing, disconnected from a coherent whole.

Communication systems, or the lack of them, only make things worse. Hierarchies can create walls between teacher-leaders and decision-makers. At the same time, the beloved “open-door policy” often backfires. Constant interruptions eliminate time for leaders to engage in deep, strategic work. In both cases, potential is lost—buried in noise, bureaucracy, or busyness.

We don’t need more tools. We need better systems. Systems that move us from management to transformation. Systems that don’t just track activity but foster improvement and innovation. Systems that recognize teacher-leaders who don’t want to be administrators but still want to lead. Systems that support new hires beyond day-one onboarding and actually help them thrive.

Cal Newport talks about “pseudoproductivity”—the illusion of progress that keeps us busy but not better. I think education is filled with pseudosystems: slick designs that feel productive but fail to impact real learning.

This blog is our attempt to challenge that. To think deeply. To write reflectively. And to propose systems—big and small—that might actually work. Not because we have all the answers, but because we’re tired of pretending what we have is good enough.

It’s time to stop relying on superheroes. It’s time to start building systems.