Real resilience isn't about rising up-but getting low

What if true resilience isn’t about standing tall—but learning how to kneel first?

In schools, we often celebrate students and staff who “rise up” in adversity. But real strength doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it bows. Resilience isn’t just about grit—it’s deeply rooted in humility, the quiet power of self-awareness, openness, and teachability. Humility allows students to ask for help instead of pretending to have it all together, and it enables educators to say, “I don’t know yet,” which models lifelong learning. A powerful case study from the University of Georgia (Owens et al., 2013) found that leaders who practiced humility—admitting mistakes, spotlighting others’ strengths, and being teachable—created higher-performing, more resilient teams. Their vulnerability inspired trust, not weakness. In contrast, unchecked ego—the compulsion to always be right or appear strong—leads to burnout, shallow relationships, and toxic school culture.

In a school setting, ego shows up as resistance to feedback, fear of looking weak, or constantly comparing oneself to others. Students may pretend to understand rather than ask a question; teachers might push through exhaustion instead of admitting they need support. But the path to real strength begins when we get low. Humility unlocks deeper connections, higher self-compassion, and the flexibility needed to grow through challenges. Here’s how students and educators can begin living this out:

1. Start team check-ins with one thing you’re struggling with, modeling vulnerability and openness.

2. Practice “last to speak” listening, especially in group discussions, letting others’ voices be heard first.

3. Write weekly reflections on one mistake and one lesson learned, normalizing growth through failure.

These practices aren’t signs of weakness—they’re evidence of courage.

And with each practice comes a belief shift that reshapes the way we see strength:

Action	New Belief
Naming a struggle	“Asking for help is a strength, not a flaw.”
Listening first	“I don’t need to prove myself to lead well.”
Reflecting on mistakes	“Failure is a teacher—not my identity.”

Humility isn’t the absence of strength—it’s the foundation of it. In a world that says “power up,” the real power might just lie in learning to bow down, and in doing so, rise higher than ever imagined.