If you are a principal mentoring an assistant principal for the first time, you are not alone. Most of us were not taught how to do so.
We’re handed an assistant principal, we split up the duties, and hope they will figure it out. I did that early in my career. It was not fair to them, and it did not build what our school needed.
After mentoring APs in my building and coaching through the Illinois Principals Association, I have landed on a simple truth. If we want stronger schools and a healthy leadership pipeline, we must intentionally develop APs.
It will not happen by accident. Handing someone the keys and a walkie is not a plan.
They don’t need a walkie, they need a blueprint
Assigning supervision or a slice of discipline is not the same as mentorship. If we expect APs to lead systems and manage relationships, we must show them what good looks like, then let them practice while we stay close enough to provide coaching.
At Highland Middle School, our TriAd model has one principal and two APs who operate as a team. For a new AP, the first 60 days are predictable for a reason. We hold regular check-ins, share resources such as contracts, policies, and handbooks, and establish clear expectations for visibility.
We walk through the building together. We debrief in quick moments at the door or in the hallway. We set targets for the week and review them. The routine builds confidence. Confidence makes thoughtful risk-taking possible.
I also share the voices that shaped my own leadership. Dale Carnegie for relationships. Daniel Pink for motivation. Stephen Covey for habits that hold under pressure. Jefferson Fisher for the language of hard conversations.
I do not hand these out as homework. I use them as lenses. When we discuss a challenging parent call, we identify the principle that guided the choice, not just the tactic.
“Do not give them instructions. Give them intent,” David Marquet says. When an AP knows the intent, they can adjust in the moment and still land in the right place.
No one tells you the job is political
Graduate programs cover law, supervision, and instruction. Helpful, yes. Incomplete, also yes.
What often catches many first-time administrators off guard is the visibility of the job. Every hallway stop, email tone, and evening event sends a message. This is not about putting on a show. It is about understanding the platform that comes with the role.
I am direct about three things up front. Show up where it matters, like concerts, art shows, and board meetings, because families notice who invests their time. Keep disagreements at the leadership table and present a united front in public, because alignment builds trust even when debate behind the scenes.
And accept that the grace you had as a teacher is smaller in this seat. People read your tone, timing, and facial expressions. That attention is part of the responsibility.
Jefferson Fisher has a line I repeat often. “Just because you feel something does not mean it is time to say something.” The pause is a tool. Use it.
Build their leadership mindset
The goal is not to train a helper. The goal is to grow a leader who can scan the horizon, choose a direction, and bring people along. That shift from reacting to anticipating is a learned behavior.
I start with real ownership. Give an AP a system that matters. Arrival and dismissal flow. MTSS problem-solving cycles. Family communication for a grade level.
We establish outcomes before the work begins and review the results afterward. We often have short reflections after difficult moments. What worked, what you would change, and what you will try next time.
During tense parent or staff conversations, I model my tone and word choice, then explain why I made those choices. I also resist the urge to rescue by default. I will be near the radio. They run the play. We debrief afterwards and turn it into a learning experience.
Teach the relational shift
Many new administrators expect to manage behavior and support instruction. First-time administrators may be surprised by how much they need to read the room and make genuine connections. For some, it can feel awkward, so it has to be modeled and taught.
I use the FORD method (family, occupation, recreation, dreams) to turn small talk into a real connection. It sounds like, “How is your son settling into middle school?” or “What has been most rewarding this semester?” or “Had time for any hiking?” or “Is there something you have been wanting to try at work?”
The point is curiosity and consistency, not charm. I track personal notes in my calendar. If a teacher mentions a recital or a weekend tournament, I set a reminder to follow up on it. That small habit turns casual conversation into a bond of trust.
People forgive mistakes more quickly when they know you acknowledge them and value their work.
Shift them from supervision to systems
Early on, most APs sprint from bell to bell. I’ve watched it happen at Highland Middle School. The risk is that they start to think speed is the whole job.
I slow the pace on purpose. We stand at Door C at 7:55, watch arrivals for a week, and write down what keeps tripping kids up. Then we ask, not who messed up, but what in our setup made that outcome likely.
One change at the curb, a quicker bell-to-seat routine, or a cleaner referral path will do more than another reminder email.
Our weekly TriAd isn’t a script. It’s a workbench. We pull up tardy counts by team, review tricky parent emails, and choose a system to adjust.
Basic questions guide us every time. What’s working? What’s getting in the way? Who needs us this week? The repetition builds judgment, and pretty soon the AP is explaining the why behind the what without my prompting.
Grow their emotional intelligence
An AP can schedule lunch duty and finish evaluations. If they can’t steady themselves in a tough moment, the rest won’t land.
We use a simple loop. Take a breath, check in with how you’re feeling, then choose your next step. Write the email, walk away for a minute, and reread it with a clear head.
Before you answer a student or a colleague, ask yourself what might be underneath the behavior. For hard conversations, scripting some bullet points of what has to be said helps with focus and confidence during those crucial conversations.
Teach Them to stand in the storm
Every AP takes a hit sooner or later: A sharp message from a parent; a decision second-guessed by others. We normalize it. We sort feedback fast with two questions. Is it useful? Is it actionable?
If yes, we fix something. If not, we let it pass. Naming it keeps the moment from running you. Sometimes the best move is no move, at least until tomorrow morning.
Prepare them to leave you
This part stings, and it matters. If we do this right, our AP may become a principal somewhere else. That is not a loss. That is proof that the investment worked.
So we bring them into real decisions. We coach interviews and resumes. We put their voice into professional learning, committee work, and team leadership.
When they are ready to move on, we cheer them on. A strong AP stepping into the next role lifts more than one school. It raises the waterline for everyone.
If you were never taught, be the one who teaches
Many of us were not mentored. We were thrown in. We do not have to repeat that.
Whether it is your first AP or one of many, make mentoring part of the job. Share the roadmap, not just the radio. Explain your decisions out loud. Let them try, then circle back and learn from it together.
That is how you grow leaders who last, and how you leave the place stronger than you found it.
