We recently had the chance to connect with Dr. Bryan Willis-Reese and have shared our conversation below.
Bryan, a huge thanks to you for investing the time to share your wisdom with those who are seeking it. We think it’s so important for us to share stories with our neighbors, friends and community because knowledge multiples when we share with each other. Let’s jump in: Are you walking a path—or wandering?
I’m wandering, but with purpose. The distinction matters because wandering isn’t aimlessness—it’s a different kind of intentionality. I used to map out strong paths, construct detailed plans, and chart every step forward, but life had a way of redirecting me regardless of how carefully I’d plotted the course. The wind blew where it would, and those rigid outlines became more constraint than compass. What I’ve discovered is that there’s profound wisdom in releasing the grip on tomorrow’s blueprint while maintaining clear direction in today’s work.
This shift is evident in how I lead an elementary school in Georgia. I’m deeply engaged in the present—translating documents for families, preparing for next month’s symposium, analyzing this week’s data, developing next terms’ professional development—while simultaneously holding vision for where the school is heading. I don’t sacrifice tomorrow’s goals; I simply refuse to let them steal focus from today’s opportunities. The 93% attendance rate, zero disciplinary incidents, and 99% staff retention didn’t emerge from rigid five-year plans—they grew from consistent, present-focused leadership that responds to what’s actually happening in my building rather than what I predicted might happen.
My wandering has purpose because I’ve built something more valuable than a predetermined path: I’ve developed responsive leadership grounded in core values. These paths aren’t rigid roadmaps—they’re guiding direction that let me adjust course daily while moving in a consistent direction. I’m living the paradox of educational leadership: plans are essential, but planning—the daily practice of thoughtful response to real conditions—is what actually transforms schools.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Dr. Bryan Willis-Reese, and I’m a member of what I call a spiritual trio of leaders engaged in the development of individuals and organizations. While I serve as a K12 education leader and principal, my deeper calling is exploring words of calm and wisdom that can motivate any person to have a brighter day—which is why I created my podcast, where I share reflections on faith, growth, and navigating life’s uncertainties with purpose and peace.
Through my podcast, I dive into topics that matter to me deeply: faith in times of uncertainty, setting boundaries, growing at your own pace, and being postured to hear when God speaks. Each episode is an invitation to reflect, contemplate, and connect with the truth that you are beautifully and wonderfully designed with purpose and a path. I explore scriptures, share life lessons on prayer and manifestation, and offer affirmations like “I am enough” and “I’m a survivor” because I believe we all need reminders that we’re not alone on this journey. Episodes like “Mountain—Move!” and “As within, So without” challenge listeners to think deeply about their inner lives and how that shapes everything around them.
What makes my story unique is that I’m living at the intersection of educational leadership and spiritual development. I’m leading a 600 student elementary school while also creating space for contemplation and connection through my podcast. I don’t separate my professional work from my spiritual journey—they inform each other. Right now, I’m focused on helping people find balance, embrace their pace of growth, and trust the process even when the path isn’t clear. Whether I’m leading a school or recording a podcast episode, my mission is the same: to help people fly high and aim higher, one thoughtful conversation at a time.
Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What did you believe about yourself as a child that you no longer believe?
As a child, I believed that confidence meant having all the answers and never being wrong. I always carried myself with a sense of assurance—people saw me as confident, capable, someone who had it together. But behind the curtain, there was a different story playing out. I would question myself over and over again, second-guessing decisions, replaying conversations, wondering if I’d made the right call. That internal dialogue was exhausting because I thought confidence and doubt couldn’t coexist, that admitting uncertainty would somehow diminish me or expose me as less than I appeared to be.
Now, I don’t mind being wrong at all. In fact, I’ve come to see being wrong as one of the most valuable experiences in leadership and life. If we move in the right direction, awesome! If not, we adjust, we learn, we pivot, and we keep moving. I’ve discovered that real confidence isn’t about being right all the time—it’s about being secure enough to be wrong, humble enough to admit it, and wise enough to learn from it. The questioning still happens, but it’s no longer rooted in fear or self-doubt. It’s curiosity. It’s discernment. It’s the mark of a leader who values growth over being right.
This shift has transformed how I lead and how I live. In my podcast, I talk about growing at your own pace and being postured to hear when God speaks—and part of that posture is releasing the need to have everything figured out. At Allgood Elementary, I model this for my staff and students: we celebrate progress over perfection, we normalize mistakes as part of learning, and we create a culture where being wrong doesn’t diminish your worth. The child who hid his doubts behind confidence has grown into a man who leads with both—and that’s made all the difference.
If you could say one kind thing to your younger self, what would it be?
If I could say one kind thing to my younger self, it would be this: “You don’t have to carry the weight of perfection to be worthy of love and respect. The questions swirling in your mind, the doubts behind that confident smile—they’re not weaknesses. They’re wisdom waiting to emerge. You’re allowed to not have all the answers, and the people who truly matter will value your authenticity far more than your ability to appear flawless.”
I’d want young Bryan to know that the pressure he feels to be right, to have it all figured out, to never falter—that’s a burden he can set down. I’d tell him that the most powerful leaders aren’t the ones who never stumble; they’re the ones brave enough to stand back up, dust themselves off, and say “let’s try that differently.” I’d remind him that his worth isn’t measured by how few mistakes he makes, but by how much grace he extends to himself and others when those inevitable mistakes happen. The confidence he’s projecting doesn’t need to be a mask—it can be real when it’s rooted in self-acceptance rather than self-perfection.
Most importantly, I’d tell him: “Trust the journey. Trust that even when the wind blows you off your carefully planned path, you’re exactly where you need to be. The wandering isn’t failure—it’s formation. And the man you’re becoming, the one who leads with both confidence and humility, who speaks words of calm and wisdom to others, who creates space for people to grow at their own pace—he’s worth every uncertain step you’re taking right now.”
Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What truths are so foundational in your life that you rarely articulate them?
There are truths so deeply woven into the fabric of who I am that I rarely speak them aloud, yet they guide every decision I make. The first is this: I am held by something greater than myself. Whether I call it God, divine orchestration, or the universe’s intentionality, I move through life with an unshakeable belief that there is a higher power guiding my steps, even when—especially when—I can’t see the path ahead. This isn’t just faith; it’s the foundation that allows me to wander with purpose, to be wrong without being undone, to lead without needing to control every outcome. I don’t articulate this constantly because it’s not something I think about—it’s something I live from.
The second truth is that every person I encounter has intrinsic worth and untapped potential. When I walk the halls of Allgood Elementary, when I record a podcast episode, when I’m translating documents for families who speak different languages—I’m operating from a belief that people are beautifully and wonderfully designed, that they have purpose, and that my role is to create space for them to discover and live into that purpose. This shows up in the 99% staff retention, in the zero disciplinary incidents, in my commitment to multilingual communication—not because I strategized these outcomes, but because when you truly believe people matter, your actions naturally reflect that belief.
The third foundational truth is that growth happens in the margins, not in the monuments. I’ve learned that transformation doesn’t come from the big, perfectly planned moments—it comes from the daily practice of showing up, adjusting, listening, and responding to what’s real rather than what’s ideal. This is why I can let go of rigid paths and embrace purposeful wandering. It’s why I don’t mind being wrong. It’s why I focus on today without abandoning tomorrow. The most significant work I do—whether as a principal, a professor of political science, or a podcaster—happens in the small, consistent choices to be present, to be humble, and to trust that mountains move not all at once, but one faithful step at a time.
Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: What do you understand deeply that most people don’t?
I understand deeply that leadership is less about vision and more about presence. Most people think great leaders are defined by their ability to cast compelling visions, set ambitious goals, and chart clear paths to success. And while those things matter, what I’ve learned—what I live—is that the most transformative leadership happens when you’re fully present to what’s actually unfolding right now. The 93% attendance rate at my school didn’t come from a strategic plan about attendance; it came from being present enough to notice which families needed connection, which students needed support, which barriers needed removing. Zero disciplinary incidents didn’t emerge from a behavior management system; it came from creating a culture where people feel seen, valued, and connected. Presence creates the conditions for transformation in ways that even the most brilliant vision cannot.
I also understand that certainty is overrated and often dangerous. Most people pursue certainty as if it’s the ultimate goal—they want to know the right answer, the guaranteed outcome, the foolproof plan. But I’ve learned that clinging to certainty makes you rigid, defensive, and unable to respond to what’s real. The willingness to be wrong, to adjust, to say “let’s try that differently”—that’s not weakness, it’s wisdom. In my podcast, I talk about having faith in times of uncertainty because I know that growth, innovation, and authentic connection all require us to step into the unknown. The irony is that by releasing my grip on certainty, I’ve become more effective, not less. I can pivot faster, listen deeper, and lead with greater impact because I’m not imprisoned by the need to be right.
Finally, I understand that the work below the surface matters more than what’s visible above it. People see the achievements—the retention rates, the test scores, the presentations, the podcast episodes—but what they don’t see is the inner work that makes those things possible. In one of my episodes, “I am growing and doing it at my own pace,” I talk about taking care of what really matters: the happenings below the surface. Most leaders focus on outcomes and optics. I focus on roots and soil. I know that if I cultivate my own spiritual life, if I do the hard work of self-reflection, if I create space to hear God speak, if I extend grace to myself—then everything else flows from that. The external results are just fruit. The real work is tending to the root system that most people never see.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://sites.google.com/view/bryanchrisreese/
- Instagram: dr.willisreese
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/bryanchrisreese/
Image Credits
Dr. Bryan Willis-Reese
