Why Trust Matters Most in Education (And How We’re Rebuilding It)

I’ll Be Honest

The last year nearly broke me.

Guidepost Montessori has been dissected in the media, on Substack, on Reddit, and across countless social platforms. Some critiques stung because they were true. Some were half-truths. All of them came from a place of hurt: parents and staff who trusted us and felt let down.

As both a parent and a senior leader, I lived that heartbreak twice over. I held my children when their school closed. I stood with my team as they absorbed the disappointment of families. And I wrestled with myself, asking the hardest leadership question there is: do I walk away, or do I stay and rebuild?

Because what I learned most over the past year is this: trust is not a side issue in education. It is the issue. You can have beautiful classrooms, thoughtful curriculum, and ambitious growth plans. But if parents do not trust you, none of it matters.

The Magical Ride, Then the Crash

When I joined Higher Ground as an Administrative Assistant almost five years ago, it felt electric. We were not building a lifestyle brand or a franchise. We were building a revolutionary Montessori network: tech-enabled, values-driven, bold.

The goal was audacious: reimagine how children learn and scale that vision at lightning speed. Fifty new schools per year.

And for a time, it worked. I crisscrossed the country with my suitcase in my trunk, visiting new campuses, hosting open houses, meeting guides and parents. My job was not just a role, it was my life. Each opening felt like a community being born.

But rocket ships burn fuel fast. Systems that worked for 10 schools strained at 50, then cracked at 100. Post-its gave way to Salesforce, but discipline lagged behind. Families felt the cracks in turnover, in inconsistent communication, in gaps of stability.

What once felt magical started to feel brittle. And when brittle breaks, it breaks trust.

Closures. Layoffs. Families disillusioned. Staff worn down. A brand that once felt unstoppable suddenly vulnerable.

Grief in Leadership

The first school to close was not just another dot on a map. It was my own children’s school in Aldie, Virginia.

That was the moment the dashboards turned into heartbreak I could hold in my arms. I looked into the bewildered faces of my children and tried to explain why their Montessori school was suddenly gone. They could not understand. Truthfully, neither could I.

That was grief. A community lost. A promise broken.

And grief reshapes a leader. It strips away illusions. It forces you to hold your own heartbreak in one hand and your team’s heartbreak in the other. To stand in front of parents and staff while you feel the same pain yourself. To keep showing up when you want to collapse.

The hardest question became unavoidable: Do I walk away, or do I stay and rebuild?

I stayed.

Why I Stayed

I stayed for two reasons.

First, because Montessori is real.

I have seen it transform my children. My daughter, at five, could already read fluently, write clearly, and grasp multiplication. When she entered school in England, we were warned that American kids often lag one to two years behind. She not only kept up, she surged ahead.

My son’s transformation looked different, but just as profound. He gained resilience, patience, and confidence. In his British school today, his teacher tells him daily whether he is a “good boy” or a “bad boy.” He listens politely, but inside, he knows better. Montessori helped him build an inner compass. His sense of self is not at the mercy of someone else’s approval. That is strength.

Montessori gave my children what every child needs but cannot get alone: community. Childhood is not meant to be lived in isolation. Children need peers. They need to practice kindness, conflict resolution, and independence in community. Even toddlers thrive when they can move, explore, and interact in spaces built just for them.

That is why I believe in Montessori. Because when children walk into these classrooms, they are not memorizing for a test. They are discovering who they are and who they want to become.

Second, because of the people.

Our guides and school leaders are extraordinary. They comfort big emotions, prepare children for life, and make parents feel safe walking away at drop-off.

Our admissions and central teams have been just as steadfast. They pivoted systems under pressure, rebuilt processes, and sent thousands of texts and calls simply to reassure families that someone was listening.

Those people are why I stayed.

The Heartbreak of People Leaving

And yet, not everyone could.

I have had leaders above me leave. I have watched some of my children’s teachers resign. I have seen colleagues across the organization step away. And every time it happened, I understood.

Many left because of misalignment. The culture in those early rocket-ship years was built on relentless hustle. Head down, move faster, open more. For a while, that energy carried us. But it came at a cost. People were not always put first. And when the culture no longer sustained them, they could not stay.

I cannot blame them for that. I often admired their courage. And yet, I could not walk away myself. Because I could still see the power of what we were building—if only we could do it differently.

That is the opportunity in front of us now. To take the lessons of failure and rebuild with care. If I could welcome back every single person who left and show them what seeds we are planting now, I believe they would say, “This is what it was always meant to be.”

The Trust Curve

Through all of this, I began to see a pattern. Trust, like demand, follows a curve.

At first, it rises quickly. Parents forgive imperfections because they see care. Then scale arrives. Systems grow. The brand feels bigger. Trust seems to peak.

But unless you reinforce it with discipline and presence, trust begins to slide. Families feel turnover, wait times, and disconnection. Leaders believe trust is still climbing, but parents know it is slipping. From there, the fall is steep.

That is the Blind Trust Curve. It gave the illusion of stability while families were already losing faith.

Stable organizations build a different curve. They grow carefully, reinforce discipline, and hold themselves accountable before families are forced to.

That is the curve we are committing to now.

And in education, our stakes are higher than anywhere else. Unlike a bad coffee order at Starbucks, our schools hold two of the most precious things parents have: their children and their money. When trust falters, it is not just an inconvenience. It is a wound.

A New Chapter

Guidepost Global Education is not about chasing size. It is about building stability. We are smaller in the United States, yet stronger as a global network. With that shift comes clarity: to rebuild trust school by school, family by family, child by child.

And our impact now extends far beyond the walls of our campuses. Across our platforms, our organic brand reach on social media surpasses 5 million people every month. For the Montessori movement, that visibility is historic. Families who may never set foot in one of our schools are learning what Montessori is because of this reach.

Through our partnership with Alpha Schools and 2-Hour Learning, we are also creating something new for early learners. Corporate backing gives us the resources to innovate and the discipline to deliver. It also comes with accountability. For the first time in years, we are operating with a fiscal responsibility that prioritizes sustainability over speed. We are carefully balancing growth with stability, ensuring every decision strengthens the long-term health of our schools and the trust of our families.

Why does this matter? Because early childhood is the most critical period of development. A 2024 Harvard study reinforced what Maria Montessori observed a century ago: zero to six are the years that shape the rest of life. Children who spend those years in environments that nurture independence, curiosity, and community carry those strengths forever.

And the proof is everywhere. Some of the world’s most creative and influential people are Montessori alumni: Taylor Swift, Larry Page and Sergey Brin of Google, Jeff Bezos of Amazon, Beyoncé, Julia Child, Gabriel García Márquez, and countless others. They grew up with that rock-solid sense of self that Montessori builds. Trials and setbacks came, but their foundation was unshakable.

That is why we are committed to building environments where children are not just supervised, but formed. Where families feel not just accommodated, but supported. And where Montessori is not only preserved, but amplified for the next generation.

Because today, too many teenagers are depressed, anxious, and disconnected. We cannot, as parents and educators, allow this to continue. The status quo of education is not enough. Our children deserve more—more trust, more joy, more purpose. And it is our responsibility to push back, to demand better, and to give them the foundation they need to thrive.

The Hard Work Ahead

To the parents who lost trust: I understand. I lost it too.
To the families who stayed: thank you.
To the educators and staff who keep showing up: you are the heartbeat of this organization.

Reforging is not easy. But it will be worth it.

That means schools where leaders know every child by name. Parents who feel heard when they raise concerns. Stability instead of crisis. Discipline in operations, clarity in communication, and humility in leadership.

My role is not to promise perfection. It is to make sure that when you hand us your trust, you see it honored every single day—through the care of your child, the stability of your school, and the honesty of our leadership.

Because in education, trust is not just part of the mission.

Trust is the mission itself.