The Cost of the Single Story: How Incomplete Narratives Harm Leaders, Communities, and All of Us
Dr. Rudine Sims Bishop, an educator, author, and Professor Emerita at The Ohio State University, introduced the well-known phrase, “Mirrors, Windows, and Sliding Glass Doors” in her influential essay of the same name. Dr. Bishop’s work should be especially familiar to individuals immersed in multicultural education, culturally responsive teaching, children’s literature, and literacy in general.
Although the phrase mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors has circulated for decades, I only encountered it while engaging in equity work several years ago.
In education and particularly in literature, the phrase mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors helps explain how books and stories allow readers to see themselves and others, and make real-life connections. Let me explain. The mirrors‘ concept allows readers to see themselves and their experiences reflected in the text they are exposed to. For example, a student who speaks two languages and reads about a character who translates for family members might think, “That character is just like me.” The windows concept, on the other hand, lets a reader look into the lives and experiences of others analogous to looking through a window. Consider this example: a student who has never lived in a rural community reads a novel about farm life and learns what daily living can be like there; perhaps the reader reduces, if not eliminates altogether, preconceived judgments about people in rural communities. Dr. Bishop’s final concept, sliding glass doors, allows a reader to imaginatively step into another person’s world and see things from their perspective through the reading, invoking empathy for others. For instance, a teacher might have her class read a story about a family immigrating to a new country, then ask students to discuss the main character’s choices, fears, and hopes as if walking alongside them. In essence, the phrase mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors means that culturally responsive literature should help students see themselves, understand others, and build empathy by stepping into different perspectives.
After more than 31 years in education, I often see how Dr. Bishop’s idea of mirrors, windows and sliding glass doors plays out, not only in literature but on social media. Social media, which could serve as a window into others’ experiences, too often becomes a distorted mirror, reflecting only our own assumptions and biases. One post or decision can ignite a storm of online reactions, frequently without any real understanding of the person behind the screen. My own experiences, including the one that inspired my 2022 blog post titled “Don’t Be Fooled by the Yellow Dress,” have shown me how easily one can be misjudged based on a partial or misunderstood story.
The onslaught of social media attacks on random people or high-profile figures reminds me of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s renowned 2009 TED Talk, “The Danger of a Single Story”, which has been viewed more than 42 million times. Adichie warns of the misunderstandings and stereotypes that arise when we hear only a single, incomplete narrative about a person, place, or event. In her TED Talk, Adichie urges us to seek multiple perspectives because when we reduce someone to a single story, we risk misrepresenting their reality entirely. The same principle applies to our digital interactions. Too often, we react to a headline or a viral moment, forgetting that there is always more beneath the surface, including more stories, more context, more humanity.
This is not a theoretical concern. In education, single narratives can have very real consequences for people asked to lead through complexity. Some school superintendents have faced harassment that extends well beyond professional criticism and into personal intimidation. Some school superintendents have received threats of violence online, including messages of physical harm. In some instances, harassment has moved offline, with individuals appearing at a superintendent’s private residence. District leaders have also been targeted through cyberbullying and impersonation campaigns, including fake social media accounts created to spread defamatory, racist, or homophobic content, often requiring significant time and effort to address. In other cases, misleading or highly partisan media coverage of district decisions has fueled waves of online abuse directed not only at superintendents, but also at their spouses and children, showing how quickly misinformation can become personal intimidation.
When a superintendent’s decision is reduced to a headline, a rumor, or a single social media post, the full context often disappears and with it, the leader’s humanity. What begins as public disagreement can quickly become something far more damaging. If we are truly committed to compassion, empathy, and human decency, then I encourage all of us to pause and ask: Are we engaging with others through a healthy and thoughtful balance of mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors, or are we relying on single stories?
The danger of the single story is not only that it misrepresents people; it can also dehumanize them. In education, where decisions are constant, complex, and deeply connected to students, families, and communities, leaders deserve better. We deserve more than reactionary judgments based on limited information. We can disagree, question, and hold one another accountable while still choosing to seek context, listen deeply, and remember the humanity of those involved.
If Dr. Bishop’s mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors teach us anything, it is that understanding requires introspection: seeing ourselves honestly, looking beyond our own assumptions, and being willing to see another person’s perspective before deciding we know the whole story. More often than not, we do not.
Growth Is Not Linear

In the summer of 2018, my family and I relocated from Colorado Springs to Illinois. Before explaining why, I want to briefly provide some context.
Having no family in Colorado before relocating there, my partner and I worked feverishly to establish a strong support system. For example, we found a church home. If we needed a sitter for our children, we knew who to call. If we needed boarding for our puppy, we also knew who to call. My daughters were fairly young but still mature enough to have forged serious friendships. We learned to navigate Colorado fairly well because we approached it as more than a temporary stop; we invested in the routines, relationships, and community connections that helped it feel like home. We absolutely adored waking up to the beautiful Pikes Peak mountains in view, whether capped with snow in the summer months or watching the sun rise behind them with a cup of coffee in hand on a Sunday morning. It was a view like none we had ever seen before. I had amazing colleagues and an incredibly strong instructional team. I learned so much from them and consider them friends to this very day. My family and I weren’t from Colorado, but we acclimated quickly.
As much as we loved Colorado, my first superintendency offer was too great an opportunity to turn down. Thus, the move to Illinois brought a mix of both excitement and anticipation. The appointment marked an important milestone in my career, but it also meant leaving the place we had grown to love and had come to call our second home.
So, in July of 2018, I began my superintendency in Illinois. My first experience as a sitting superintendent taught me many lessons, many that I still reflect on today. Though I once believed becoming a superintendent represented the pinnacle of my career, I often remind aspiring and current leaders that growth is not linear. Why is this important? Well, two years after beginning my superintendency, I had to step away. The reasons for leaving are far less important than what I learned during and afterward.
I was blessed to receive and accept an Assistant Superintendent position in Elgin, Illinois, where I spent four years learning alongside thoughtful, talented educators and leaders. That role expanded my understanding of school systems in ways I had not previously experienced. I was introduced to new dimensions of education, from understanding how lottery systems operate in magnet programs to supporting career pathways for high school students. Those experiences challenged me to think more broadly about access, opportunity, and the many conditions in and out of school that shape students’ educational experiences. These experiences also reminded me that growth often happens in unexpected places, especially when we remain open to learning from the people and systems around us. So, please remember, growth is not linear. You can learn no matter your title, and what appears as a setback is only a pause for refinement, not a regression, rejection, restriction, roadblock, or reversal. God is the author!
In July 2024, I was blessed to return to the superintendency, this time carrying with me the lessons, perspective, and humility gained from each part of my journey thus far. Returning to the role did not feel like simply picking up where I had left off; it felt like entering the work with a deeper understanding of people, systems, community, and the responsibility that comes with leadership.
Kankakee SD 111, like so many school districts across our nation, is filled with promise and possibility. I see a community rich with talent, promise, strength, and untapped potential. To have been selected by the Board of Education to serve Kankakee was and continues to be both an honor and a responsibility I do not take lightly.
My first two years at the helm have been exciting, challenging, and rewarding. In year one, we conducted several important audits, including curriculum, forensic, and human resources reviews. In year two, we began developing a five-year strategic plan and undertaking a boundary analysis. Together, these efforts have helped us build momentum, even as important work remains ahead. Our staff remains deeply invested, and I am honored to work alongside them. Our students are extraordinary. Whether they are engaging in thoughtful classroom debates, competing on athletic teams, or sharing their talents through theatre and band performances, they continue to demonstrate remarkable gifts and potential. Our community cares deeply about our students’ success, and our Board of Education remains fully committed to that shared purpose. I also remain committed to the challenging and rewarding work ahead, and I appreciate the Board’s acknowledgement of that commitment through a two-year extension, resulting in a five-year contract, the maximum allowed under Illinois School Code.
Again, I am deeply grateful for the Board’s continued trust in me and for the opportunity to keep serving Kankakee School District 111. This extension allows all of us to continue building on our momentum while staying focused on the long-term goals that will strengthen opportunities and outcomes for every student and creating a Destination District.
-Teresa A.
The Power of Thank You: Reflecting on U-46 Experience

The words, “thank you”, may come across as trite to some people, especially if accompanied by contradictory actions. In my opinion, however, the words are not uttered nearly enough in spaces of education and even more so in educational leadership where central office leaders dwell. As a result of this void, I hope to break that pattern starting with myself and using this opportunity to say, “Thank you” to several individuals who I may not have said, “thank you” enough to. Please bear with me as I use the beginning to lay some context.
My last day in School District U-46 was Monday, June 3rd; I thought I had at least another two hours to pen a thank you email to my immediate supervisor, district superintendent, and other colleagues, but I was mistaken. Precisely at 3:00pm, my emails were shut off, I was booted out of the district system, and just like that I was done. Although a quick thank you text message to a few of my colleagues was composed and sent, I was still uneasy about leaving without a proper thank you message. Text messages, in my opinion, can often lack the emotion one wishes to convey. In hindsight, so can face-to-face conversations. Sure, I could have called and extended a more personable thank you, but I needed to put my thoughts in writing. This latest blog, I hope, captures my deepest appreciation in a way that I was unable to share just one month prior.
As a former health and physical education teacher, there were several units I enjoyed teaching more than others. One unit in particular that stuck with me was about the dimensions of wellness; yes, even 25+ years ago, we were teaching about physical, emotional, social, and mental well-being. In retrospect, SEL is not new. Rather, SEL has been repackaged and repurposed, possibly with a bit more fervor as trauma appears to manifest itself daily in the lives of both adults and children. While lesson planning many moons ago, I learned that when you value something or someone you should publicly and privately affirm it/them. During the daily grind over the past four years, I am not sure I did just that. So, as previously stated, I hope to convey my deepest appreciation for my colleagues, inclusive of the experiences afforded me during my tenure in School District U-46.
Four years ago, I joined the U-46 team as the Assistant Superintendent of Equity and Innovation. Unlike most school districts, U-46 had a position devoted to equity before diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) efforts were a thing and more recently, under attack. Unfortunately, my predecessor, the late Mr. Ron Raglin, passed away unexpectedly during the late summer of 2019. Consequently, his position remained vacant for quite some time. After undergoing a rigorous interview process (I count at least three trips to Elgin for interviews), I was hired. It was an honor for me to follow Mr. Raglin, a man who gave his all in advancing equity. Although we never met, Mr. Raglin’s legacy continues to be on display in U-46. For full disclosure, I figured I could handle the “equity” portion of the job, but the “innovation” involved a myriad of duties that I would learn by doing while also leaning on very competent colleagues. I was eager and ready to get to work, but I started my new role right during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic. What I remember vividly about my start was the kindness extolled to me by my then-supervisor, Deputy Superintendent Dr. Suzanne Johnson.
I am proud to say that Dr. Johnson is now serving as the district’s superintendent, a position she earned and I contend, she unequivocally deserved having started her career at U-46 more than 27 years ago. Dr. Johnson as well as my colleague and eventually new boss, Ms. Lela Majstorovic, were what Shane Safir would describe as listening leaders. One of several attributes of a Listening Leader, according to Ms. Safir, is that they “construct a vision through a collaborative process in which dialogue and dissenting perspectives are welcome” (2017, p.5). Although we did not agree on every decision made, Superintendent Johnson and Deputy Superintendent Majstorovic were open to my ideas and more importantly, gave me the space to ask questions without fear of backlash. When my mother transitioned in the winter of 2022, Dr. Johnson was present at my mom’s homegoing and her willingness to share her own experiences of living with grief helped me better understand that grief is merely symbolic of love. When, after working alongside and underneath Superintendent Johnson and Deputy Superintendent Majstorovic since 2020, I opted to spread my wings once more, they both supported my endeavor and I am truly grateful for you both!
I also want to thank Melissa Stevenson. Melissa was my administrative assistant upon my hire at U-46, but she was more than that. When I had this lofty idea of U-46 launching an inaugural equity symposium, more often than not, Melissa had to put on her investigative hat and find the individuals whom I believed should be a part of our launch and subsequent symposium. Individuals who would eventually serve as our keynote speakers and/or lead breakout sessions included incredible human beings such as Drs. Gloria Ladson-Billings, Geneva Gay, Beverly Daniel Tatum, Gholdy Muhammad, Bettina Love, Yolanda Sealey Ruiz, Chris Emdin, Dena Simmons, Pedro Noguera, Ian Mette, Don Parker, Jahkari ‘JT’ Taylor, and countless others. I was barely holding my nose above water and with just a vision over lunch in my office, the equity symposium was birthed. It was probably my constant fervor to birth this baby (Equity Symposium), twice, that led Melissa to an early retirement 😊. I am grateful for her friendship to this day. My department colleagues, Mitch Briesemeister, Michele Chapman, Alexa Charsa-Hahn, Elizabeth McKinney, Doreen Roberts, Tiffany Mikhail Wright, and Roz Cobbs. Whether we were together from my arrival to one year ago, I am thankful for them for their camaraderie, collegiality, sheer professionalism, and their willingness to engage around our monthly topic, “How does our work connect to equity?”
I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the 70+ U-46 Equity Committee Ambassador Leaders and members whose dedication helped transform U-46 Equity Plan 1.0 to a more robust and comprehensive rendition referred to as Equity Plan 2.0. Where would I be without their relentless commitment to engaging in this work with me? Without monetary compensation, they showed up to most meetings and stayed the course even when the course seemed ridiculously long. There are way too many names to list and I will inadvertently forget at least two people if I traverse down that road. Please know that my heart remains full because of you!
I also want to extend a special thank you to Illinois State Superintendent, Tony Sanders. Dr. Sanders took a chance on me four years ago as he brought me into his tightly-knit circle of Cabinet colleagues. Moreover, early on in my tenure at U-46, Dr. Sanders allowed me to bend his ear as I watched in awe his adeptness at navigating politically charged waters.
As I prepare to close, I will admit that I asked my boss to not make a big deal of my leaving the district. I wanted no fanfare, no farewell luncheon, no hugs or tears, just a quiet exit down Chicago Street in Elgin, Illinois to my parked car. She reluctantly obliged. Although there was no farewell luncheon, my dearest friend, Lisa Jackson, who also doubled as our Director of Equity and Inclusion, managed to secretly arrange a farewell dinner during our district’s final equity committee meeting of the school year. This farewell gathering resulted in more tears than I wanted to shed. There is indeed a gentle side of me; more gentle than most know. Needless to say, my tears coupled with a plethora of warm embraces will serve as a reminder of the positive relationships established during my time in U-46. When I consider Lisa’s influence in our short time together, I am drawn to a book, The Power of Moments, gifted to Cabinet members by Superintendent Johnson. The authors, Chip and Dan Heath write about the importance of recognizing others. In particular, the authors write, “Expressing gratitude pleases the recipient of the praise, of course, but it can also have a boomerang effect, elevating the spirits of the grateful person” (2017, p. 155). Lisa’s spirits always seemed to be on high; she rarely, if ever, seemed frazzled and took the time to acknowledge every single person she encountered. She remembered small moments and some of the most important milestones in my life like the heavenly anniversary of my mother. Lisa is the epitome of gracefulness and if you ever get to meet her, you will undoubtedly agree. Lisa, thank you, for being an audacious listener and trusted confidant. You gave me the liberty to push and pull while I grew alongside you. From you, I learned to be more graceful in my approach, and to not be the one to speak first or last; instead, I learned to be present. I am convinced your spirits were always on high because you continuously expressed gratitude toward others. You are a gift to me and so many others!
Finally, the importance of pausing to recognize others is inarguably one of the most powerful opportunities to galvanize community and trust, yet it must be done with authenticity and specificity. The Heath brothers reminded me that “while recognition is a universal expectation, it’s not a universal practice” (p.146). I want to be better and do better because the power of a thank you is just as important for the giver as it is for the receiver. U-46, thank you for bringing me on the team, allowing me to learn and grow, and when the time was right, to fly! Godspeed!
-T
References
Heath, C., & Heath, D. (2017). The power of moments: why certain experiences have extraordinary impact.
Safir, S. (2017). The listening leader: Creating the conditions for equitable school transformation. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.
