Systems Over Struggle

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.