In a quiet corner of Aotearoa on 10 July 2026, a principal, like many across the motu, stood at the edge of the school field as the final embers of the community Matariki hāngi faded into the night. Behind them, children laughed, whānau lingered, and staff packed up with a sense of calm satisfaction and quiet resolve. The pace of change was relentless – new curriculum, shifting expectations – but tonight offered something deeper: perspective.
At the conclusion of the Matariki event, the principal lifted their gaze to the sky, knowing that soon, when dawn neared, the Matariki constellation would rise, shimmering on the horizon. They reflected on how its slow emergence from darkness was like the unfolding of potential in their students: unseen at first, but certain, steady, and guiding.
“It is my why,” they whispered, “to serve the students of my kura so they might rise into their own light. Because their potential is Aotearoa New Zealand’s potential.”
In that still moment, they remembered that true leadership isn’t about ticking boxes, it’s about holding space for learning, culture, and connection to thrive. Like Matariki rising, the future was bright because it was shared, grounded, and full of promise.
Revelations brought to light by Matariki
In Te Ao Māori, Matariki represents more than a cluster of stars. It is a constellation of guidance. Each whetū offers its own insight for navigating the path ahead.
In our story, the principal has a moment of clarity as they peer up into the clear winter sky. The success of the evening was not because Term 2’s focus had solely been on teaching the ‘basics’, but because it had been a korowai of learning that had embraced the whole child. The evening had been spent exploring and celebrating important learnings focused on identity, belonging, connection, and creativity; an integration of deep and meaningful learning that blossomed through waiata, storytelling, shared kai, and wisdom passed down through the generations. It was a reminder that the most purposeful educational experiences are not always measured by assessments or strict, one-size-fits-all levels, but by the strength of the relationships and culture that surround and inspire our tamariki.
The profound noticing for the principal in our story is that it is their own values that provided them with direction, just as Matariki provides direction for the year ahead. These values were acting as an internal compass, helping to guide them through the complexity of educational leadership.
The connection between cultural grounding and courageous leadership isn’t coincidental. When leaders are firmly rooted in their ‘why’ — promoting a commitment to student potential and community wellbeing — they are able to find the clarity needed to distinguish between what serves their people, purpose, and place as opposed to what merely serves the system.
Learning from the Disobedient Teaching
In the winter of 2017, Welby Ings, a renowned New Zealand academic, teacher, filmmaker, and award-winning author, released Disobedient Teaching: Surviving and Creating Change in Education. At a time when our sector was tightly bound by the delivery of the National Standards policy, Ings’ message resonated with educators who valued professional curiosity and dared to challenge the status quo: “The truth is that each of us, irrespective of where we stand in an organisation, has the ability to change things. It’s just a matter of studying the systems around us and finding effective strategies.”
Since its publication, the notion of Disobedient Teaching has stayed with me, evolving into a framework for courageous leadership. Like the whetū of Matariki, Ings’ concepts around disruption and professional dissonance have been a source of inspiration, serving as guiding lights on numerous occasions. As we navigate an increasingly uncertain educational landscape, they serve as a timely reminder that school leadership sometimes requires us to challenge the status quo to uphold the wellbeing and success of all learners.
Shortly after its release, our staff at Beach Haven Primary drew on Ings’ ideas to reimagine assessment across our kura in Tāmaki Makaurau. More recently, they’ve guided our work in transforming how we report to whānau. What I’ve learned is this: when leaders embody the spirit of disobedience and invite their teams to do the same — thoughtfully, purposefully, with cultural grounding as their compass — innovation follows.
The quiet courage in choosing to lead differently
Ings calls this creative resistance to systems that diminish human potential disobedient teaching. The word ‘disobedient’ might raise eyebrows in educational leadership circles, but it’s about reclaiming space for identity, community, and wellbeing. When the pressure to narrow our focus to literacy, numeracy, and compliance — when we are told what ‘truly’ matters — disobedience becomes a sort of principaled leadership. When we examine Ings’ work through the lens of Matariki, as a constellation of guidance rather than isolated acts of opposition, we discover something profound: the most transformative school leaders are not rule-breakers, they are principled advocates who understand that serving students can require courage to challenge systems that do not serve them well.
Principled leadership is deliberate. It is professional courage driven by values; a willingness to question the entrenched, to challenge what no longer serves, and to reimagine systems in ways that better honour the needs of learners, teachers, and whānau. It is leadership that seeks to liberate, not to overthrow; to serve, not to subvert.
For principals across Aotearoa, this is not about staging a coup d’état for its own sake. It is about professional integrity, cultural responsiveness, and our deep knowing that our students deserve more than a compliance-driven education. They require a nuanced curriculum — one that has been developed and co-designed through thoughtful consultation and evidence-based practice.
Four anchors for leadership
Ings says that “disobedient teaching is what happens when you close the door on your classroom or office and try unconventional things because your professional compass tells you that it is right.” He says, “It doesn’t wait for permission. It understands how systems work and it is compassionate and strong enough to take risks to make things better. It disobeys and positively changes systems.”
1. Trust your pedagogical expertise
You are not merely rolling out a curriculum, you understand it. You know what high-quality teaching looks like, feels like, and requires. Lean into that knowledge. Shape the change rather than being shaped by it. Take what serves your learners, and carefully navigate what does not. Use your professional voice to advocate for what works. Trust your experienced teachers, have deep and meaningful conversations about what you know works, what your students need, and find the best world for your kura — one that lives between what was and what currently is. These are not easy conversations but they are vital. Trial, inquire,
and utilise ongoing reflection to refine, critique, and determine how this change will roll out at your kura.
Coaching Questions
- What examples have you seen recently where teacher expertise has positively shaped learning outcomes?
- How are we actively creating space for staff to trial, inquire, and refine their practice around this change?
- In what ways are we leveraging the collective wisdom in our team to find the ‘best world’ for our kura?
- Where are we confidently advocating for what works for our learners, and how can we grow that confidence across the team? What does our community think?
2. Lead with purpose, not just process
Compliance may keep the system running, but purpose keeps learning alive. As principals, we must ensure that our leadership reflects more than delivery. It must reflect deliberation, discernment, and depth.
Say yes to alignment and consistency, but not at the cost of quality. Say no to things that erode wellbeing, diminish cultural sustainability, or dilute the learning experience.
Coaching Questions
- What parts of our current work are deeply connected to our core purpose, and what feels like it’s drifting into compliance?
- How are we checking that our decisions are supporting wellbeing, equity, and quality learning?
- Where have we recently made a deliberate decision to say ‘no’ or ‘not yet’, and what impact did that have?
- How are we engaging our teams in conversations that balance strategic alignment with meaningful learning outcomes?
3. Slow down to protect the craft
Curriculum frameworks like Te Mātaiaho invite depth, not speed. As leaders, you create the conditions for thoughtful, deliberate teaching. Advocate for the time, space, and support you and your staff need to engage deeply with the changes. If it fails to be heard, advocate again. Safeguard professional conversations. Hold fast to the belief that real learning takes time.
Coaching Questions
- What conditions have we put in place that protect deep, professional conversations around teaching and learning?
- Where are we seeing evidence of thoughtful, deliberate teaching, and how can we amplify those practices?
- What are we currently doing to advocate for time and space to work with the curriculum meaningfully?
- How do we know when our staff feel safe and supported to go deep, rather than fast?
4. Nurture reflective, creative cultures
The best schools are built on shared thinking, not rigid scripts. Encourage professional curiosity. Create space for teams to reflect, innovate, and respond to learners in ways that are locally grounded and culturally connected. Model professional inquiry and curiosity and allow room for creative problem-solving. Honour the thinking that sits beneath the work.
Start small if you have to, but start. The new curriculum has opportunities we can exploit. You just have to look, trial, and innovate. Find the ‘grey’ areas and explore the work-arounds that fit your context.
Coaching Questions
- What’s one example of staff-led innovation or inquiry that reflects our local context or learner needs?
- How are we modelling curiosity, and how do our teams see that curiosity as part of our leadership practice?
- What are we doing to honour the thinking, not just the output, of our staff? Do our staff feel safe to challenge the status quo? Do they have the agency to do it?
- In what ways are we deliberately creating time and permission for reflection, experimentation, and shared problem-solving?
Finding the courage to lead
For principals, Matariki represents more than a seasonal celebration. It is a time to take an educational stand, to draw a line in the sand, and to advocate for renewal. In choosing to centre whānau — engaging in storytelling, savouring kai, and embracing cultural knowledge — leaders disrupt the transactional rhythm of schooling and reconnect it with a deeper, more human rhythm. A community Matariki event becomes a quiet protest against urgency and standardisation, reminding us that learning is relational, place-based, and that it takes community to help a student reach their potential. It is a declaration that who we are together matters as much as what we measure.
The principal reflecting on the Matariki stars understood that true leadership requires both vision and practical wisdom. It demands the courage to challenge systems that don’t serve students while building the relationships and evidence base needed for sustainable change. As we face another term of educational change, the question isn’t whether we will encounter challenges, but rather how we will respond to them. Will we retreat into compliance, or will we find the courage to advocate for what our students need?
Remember that our role as principals isn’t just to manage schools, but to transform them. Every time we choose relationship over rule, innovation over compliance, and student potential over system convenience, we are contributing to a future where all learners can thrive.
he stars of Matariki remind us that we are part of something larger: a constellation of educators and principals across Aotearoa who are quietly, and courageously, working to create schools that serve all students well. In that shared commitment lies both our strength and our hope.