lilly final
MODULE 2 Professor White’s LECTURE
The Core Competencies of Change Leadership: Building
Relationships, Creating Knowledge, Making Coherence
Opening: The Architecture of Sustainable Change
We have established in Module 1 that change is fundamentally a learning process rooted in
moral purpose and navigated through understanding of complexity. We have suggested that
this learning happens best when leaders embody epistemic humility and develop the character
qualities that enable wise and ethical leadership. But learning is not a solitary activity. It
happens between people, in relationship, through the collective work of creating knowledge
together.
This is the work of Module 2: examining the organizational conditions that enable sustainable
change. Michael Fullan identifies three core competencies that, alongside moral purpose and
understanding change, constitute the foundation for sustained improvement: building
relationships, creating knowledge and fostering deep learning, and making coherence. I want
to argue that these three competencies are not just organizational practices but expressions of
deeper wisdom about how human beings thrive together.
The architecture of sustainable change rests on these three pillars. Remove relational trust,
and knowledge creation becomes impossible; people protect themselves rather than
collaborate. Remove structures for deep learning, and coherence becomes fragmented; people
pursue disconnected initiatives rather than working toward shared purposes. Remove
coherence making, and the relational trust erodes; people experience the work as chaotic
rather than purposeful.
Understanding this architecture—how these elements depend on one another—is essential to
the work you will do as leaders.
Part I: Relationships as the Foundation of All
Transformation
Relational Trust as the Condition for Possibility
Fullan argues, and research supports, that relational trust is foundational to organizational
change. When trust is strong, people are more willing to take risks, collaborate with
colleagues, share knowledge openly, and persist through difficulty. When trust is weak,
people protect themselves, hoard information, avoid collaboration, and revert to familiar
practices when challenged.
Yet I want to deepen what we mean by relational trust. Fullan identifies four components:
benevolence (people believe you care about them), competence (people believe you are
capable), honesty (people believe you tell the truth), and reliability (people believe you
follow through). These are essential dimensions. But they are somewhat external: things
leaders do or demonstrate.
The Universal Human Wisdom Framework invites us to go deeper. Across philosophical
traditions, there emerges a consistent understanding of what creates the conditions for human
connection. Confucian philosophy emphasizes li (禮), often translated as ritual or propriety
but more accurately understood as the relational practices that create harmony and mutual
understanding. Ubuntu philosophy expresses this through umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu: a
person is a person through other persons. Buddhist understanding speaks to interdependence
and the recognition that our wellbeing is inseparable from others' wellbeing. Indigenous
wisdom traditions emphasize reciprocity and the responsibility we bear for maintaining
relationships with both human and non-human others.
What these diverse traditions recognize is something fundamental: human beings are
fundamentally relational. We become ourselves through relationship with others. Our
flourishing depends not just on individual achievement but on the quality of our relationships.
Our capacity to do meaningful work depends on whether we feel seen and valued by others.
This has profound implications for leadership. A leader who understands relationships as the
foundation of everything works differently. She is not simply trying to build trust as a means
to an end (implementing change). Rather, she is recognizing that relationships are the end
itself. She is creating conditions where people can experience being genuinely seen,
genuinely valued, genuinely part of a community that cares about their flourishing.
Psychological Safety and Epistemic Justice
Building on this relational foundation, two concepts become essential: psychological safety
and epistemic justice. Psychological safety is the belief that it is safe to take interpersonal
risks in a group—to speak up with a question, to admit a mistake, to challenge an idea, to
propose something new. Without psychological safety, people stay silent. They do not
contribute their full thinking. Knowledge stays hidden rather than being shared.
But psychological safety alone is not enough. There is a deeper justice question: Whose
knowledge counts? Whose voice is heard? In many organizations, there is psychological
safety for people in certain positions while people in other positions—particularly those with
less formal authority, those from marginalized groups, those whose ways of knowing differ
from dominant academic approaches—experience their contributions as devalued or
dismissed.
This is where epistemic justice becomes crucial. Epistemic justice is about recognizing and
honoring the knowledge and the knower. It means asking: Are we creating conditions where
a teacher's practical wisdom about what works with struggling readers is genuinely valued?
Where a parent's understanding of what their child needs is taken seriously? Where a
community elder's knowledge of local history and traditions informs how we understand the
place we are in? Where a student's insights into their own learning shape how we approach
instruction?
The IDEAL framework's emphasis on inclusive design is directly related to epistemic justice.
Inclusive design recognizes that exclusion is not just about access or representation; it is
about voice and knowledge. When design processes do not include the perspectives of people
most affected by the design, they miss crucial knowledge. When school improvement
processes do not authentically include teachers, students, and families, they miss the very
people whose wisdom is most essential.
This matters particularly in rural schools, where epistemological injustice has often been
significant. Rural knowledge has been systematically devalued in educational policy and
practice. Rural teachers' knowledge is often seen as less sophisticated than urban teachers'
knowledge. Rural parents are sometimes treated as less capable of understanding what their
children need. Rural students are sometimes taught that real knowledge and real opportunity
exist elsewhere, not in their home communities. A leader committed to epistemic justice asks
different questions. What wisdom do the people in this community possess? How can we
create structures that honor and learn from that wisdom? How can students learn not just
from textbooks but from the knowledge holders in their communities?
Interhuman Relationships: The Mutuality of Leader and Led
There is a further dimension to relationships that often gets overlooked in organizational
change literature. Relationships in the deepest sense are mutual and reciprocal. They are not
about one person (the leader) building trust with another (the follower) but about genuine
encounter between equals, each bringing their full humanity.
This is what I mean by interhuman relationships. Interhuman does not mean less structured or
less professional. Rather, it means relationships that are characterized by genuine mutuality.
The leader is not simply an expert bestowing wisdom on less knowledgeable others. Rather,
leader and colleagues are engaged in a shared journey of learning and transformation, each
bringing different kinds of knowledge, different perspectives, different gifts.
A leader who practices interhuman relationships is vulnerable. She shares her own learning
edge, her own mistakes, her own uncertainty. She is not trying to project an image of having
everything figured out. She is genuinely interested in others' thinking and genuinely willing
to change her mind in response to what she learns. She recognizes that the people she leads
know things she does not know and can help her become a better leader.
This quality of relationship is particularly generative in educational contexts. Teachers are
engaged in relationships with students, and the quality of those relationships profoundly
affects students' learning and development. When teachers practice interhuman relationships
with students, students experience themselves as genuinely seen and valued. They are more
willing to take intellectual risks, to acknowledge what they do not understand, to persist
through difficulty. Similarly, when leaders practice interhuman relationships with teachers,
the conditions for meaningful professional learning improve dramatically.
In rural schools, where people know each other across multiple roles and relationships (the
superintendent is also your neighbor, the principal attends your church), the quality of
relationships is perhaps even more significant. If there is genuine interhuman relationship,
this proximity becomes a strength. If relationships are merely transactional or hierarchical,
the proximity becomes burdensome.
Part II: Knowledge Creation as the Engine of
Improvement
From Individual Expertise to Collective Learning
One of the most important insights in Fullan's framework is that sustainable improvement
requires organizations to move from treating knowledge as individual expertise (held by
experts and shared downward) to treating knowledge as collective resource (created and
refined through collaborative work). This shift is fundamental to the difference between
organizations where improvement happens episodically (when a new leader arrives with new
ideas) and organizations where improvement is continuous because people across the
organization are engaged in learning together.
Yet in many educational organizations, this shift is incomplete. There is significant
knowledge in the organization: teachers know how to work with struggling readers, how to
engage resistant adolescents, how to support students with particular disabilities, how to build
relationships with families who have had negative school experiences. But this knowledge
often stays individual. It does not circulate through the organization. It is not built upon,
refined, or preserved when the teacher who holds it leaves.
Creating structures for knowledge creation means designing ways for people to work together
on problems of practice. Professional learning communities where teachers analyze student
work together. Grade-level teams that collaboratively plan instruction. Cross-school networks
where teachers share what they are learning. These are not optional; they are essential
structures for improvement.
But the quality of knowledge creation matters. Not all collaborative work is equally
generative. A team that meets to coordinate logistics is different from a team that is engaged
in genuine inquiry: examining student work, investigating what practices support particular
kinds of learning, testing approaches and learning from what happens. The former
coordinates; the latter creates knowledge.
What enables knowledge creation work to be genuine rather than superficial? Several things
matter. Time. People need protected time for this work, not something squeezed in at the end
of a long day. Psychological safety. People need to feel safe being intellectually vulnerable,
acknowledging what they do not know, trying things that might not work. Clear focus. Teams
need clarity about what they are investigating, why it matters. Leadership that removes
barriers and honors the work.
The Role of Diverse Ways of Knowing
The Universal Human Wisdom Framework and the concept of interhuman epistemic
leadership invite us to consider what counts as knowledge within our learning structures. In
many educational organizations, "research-based practice" is valued more highly than
"teacher-developed practice." External expertise is sought more eagerly than internal
expertise. Academic knowledge is privileged over practical wisdom or cultural knowledge.
This is a significant loss. It means that some of the most important knowledge is not
recognized as knowledge. When a rural teacher develops practices that work beautifully with
students from farming families, that knowledge is often not documented, shared, or valued as
legitimate knowledge. When an Indigenous educator develops approaches grounded in
traditional pedagogy that support student engagement and cultural connection, those
approaches may not be recognized as "evidence-based." When parents share knowledge
about their children's learning needs based on years of knowing their children, that
knowledge is sometimes treated as opinion rather than as genuine insight.
Creating organizations that value diverse ways of knowing does not mean abandoning
research or academic knowledge. Rather, it means recognizing that knowledge is created
through multiple methods, emerges from multiple sources, and takes multiple forms. It means
creating space for teachers to be researchers of their own practice. It means treating
community knowledge as legitimate knowledge. It means asking students what they are
learning and how they learn best. It means recognizing that the knowledge embodied in
cultural and spiritual traditions is knowledge, not just opinion or belief.
This is particularly important in rural schools, where diverse ways of knowing are often
present and available. Farmers understand ecology and economics in sophisticated ways.
Craftspeople understand design and materials. Elders understand local history. Young people
understand how their peers learn and what motivates them. A leader who practices
interhuman epistemic leadership asks: How can we honor and learn from the diverse
knowledge in this community? How can we create a learning organization that draws on all
these sources of knowing?
Character Education as Foundation for Collaborative Learning
Collaborative knowledge creation is intellectually and emotionally demanding work. It
requires people to think together across differences, to be genuinely curious about others'
perspectives, to engage with ideas that challenge their own thinking. It requires character
qualities that do not develop automatically. It requires wisdom to discern what matters most.
It requires courage to challenge ideas respectfully when you believe they are misguided. It
requires justice to ensure that less powerful voices are heard. It requires love—genuine care
for the learning and development of colleagues—to persist through misunderstanding and
disagreement.
Character education, understood as cultivation of these qualities, becomes essential to the
success of knowledge creation structures. A school that creates professional learning
communities but does not attend to developing the character of the people in those
communities will struggle. People will go through the motions of collaborative work without
genuine intellectual engagement. They will protect their ideas rather than opening them for
examination. They will compete rather than collaborate.
But when a school intentionally develops character—through the modeling of leaders,
through structures that practice virtues, through explicit attention to how people are
becoming—collaborative learning becomes genuine. Teachers are willing to be vulnerable
because they trust that others care about their learning. They are willing to be challenged
because they understand that challenge is a gift, not a threat. They are willing to do this
difficult work because they understand it serves something larger than themselves.
Part III: Coherence Making as Integration of Purpose and
Practice
The Problem of Fragmentation
One of the greatest obstacles to sustainable improvement in schools is fragmentation.
Multiple initiatives pull in different directions. Clear priorities exist on paper but not in how
time and resources are actually allocated. Educators experience the improvement work as
"one more thing" added to an already overwhelming load. The gap between what the school
says it values and what it actually does undermines credibility and commitment.
Fullan identifies coherence making as the leadership work of aligning systems, strategies, and
initiatives around shared purpose. This is not about forcing consensus or eliminating diversity
of thinking. Rather, it is about ensuring that various pieces of work contribute to shared goals
rather than competing with each other. It is about clarity: Everyone understands why this
initiative matters. Everyone can see how it connects to what we are trying to accomplish.
Everyone can see how it fits with other work rather than conflicting with it.
The challenge of coherence making is particularly acute in rural schools, where resources are
limited and the temptation to say yes to external initiatives (grants, programs, mandates) is
strong. A teacher in a small rural school might find herself trying to implement a new literacy
program, a new behavior management system, a new intervention for struggling readers, a
new approach to social-emotional learning, and a new way of incorporating technology—all
simultaneously. Each initiative might be well-intentioned. But together they create chaos. The
result is that none of them are implemented with depth or consistency.
Coherence Through Moral Purpose
Making coherence is not primarily a technical matter of alignment and scheduling. Rather, it
flows from clarity about moral purpose. When a school is clear about what it is really trying
to accomplish—to develop young people's dignity and agency, to support their critical
consciousness, to help them understand their cultural heritage while preparing them for
diverse futures, to create community—then decisions about initiatives become clearer. Does
this initiative serve those purposes? Does it align with what we are trying to create? Or does
it distract from it?
This is where the IDEAL framework provides particular clarity. IDEAL's emphasis on
inclusive design, critical pedagogy, and liberatory education provides a coherent vision of
what transformation is actually about. It is not just about improving test scores or
implementing whatever is trendy. It is about fundamentally reimagining schooling in ways
that honor human dignity, challenge oppression, and empower people as agents in their own
becoming. When that vision is clear, coherence making becomes possible.
It also becomes easier to make the hard choice to let go of things that do not serve that
purpose. A school guided by commitment to liberation might ask: Does this program actually
serve the liberation and empowerment of our students, or does it serve external measures of
compliance? If the latter, can we redirect those resources toward work that truly serves our
students?
Coherence as Witness to Values
There is another dimension to coherence that is about integrity. Coherence is when what you
say you value and how you actually spend your time and resources align. When they do not,
people experience organizational hypocrisy. When the school says it values teacher learning
but does not protect time for teachers to collaborate. When the school says it honors family
engagement but makes it logistically difficult for families to participate. When the school
says every child matters but allocates resources to support high-achieving students while
leaving struggling students underserved.
Making coherence is ultimately an act of integrity. It is saying: We mean what we say. We
value relational trust, so we are going to structure our time so people can actually build
relationships. We value knowledge creation, so we are going to protect time for teachers to
work together. We value the wisdom of our community, so we are going to create genuine
partnerships with families and community members. We are committed to the dignity of all
people, so our policies and practices will reflect that commitment.
This work is both easier and harder in rural schools. It is easier because the smaller scale
means that inconsistencies are more visible; it is harder because the limited resources mean
you really do have to choose. But a rural school that achieves coherence—where every
structure, every practice, every policy reflects the school's core values—becomes a powerful
force for transformation. Young people grow up in a community that actually lives its values.
They learn not just from what adults say but from how adults live.
Part IV: The Integration of the Three Competencies
Relationships create the trust necessary for people to do the difficult work of creating
knowledge together. Knowledge creation, in turn, deepens relationships as people learn from
one another and experience each other's competence and care. Together, relational trust and
knowledge creation enable the kind of collective clarity that makes coherence making
possible. And coherence making, by aligning everything around shared purpose, sustains both
relationships and learning by making the work feel unified and meaningful rather than
fragmented and exhausting.
These three competencies are not sequential. They develop together, reinforce each other, and
depend on each other. A school that is strong in all three—where relationships are genuine
and trusting, where knowledge is created collaboratively across the organization, where work
is aligned around shared purpose—has created the conditions for sustainable improvement.
Such a school does not rely on a single charismatic leader to maintain momentum. Rather, the
conditions themselves support continuous improvement. People are connected to each other
through genuine relationships. They are engaged in work that builds their knowledge and
capacity. They understand why the work matters. They see how what they are doing
contributes to something larger than themselves.
This is the architecture of sustainable change. This is what enables transformation to take root
and grow over time. As you move into the weeks ahead, you will examine how these three
competencies manifest—and sometimes fail to manifest—in real change scenarios. You will
think about how to cultivate them in your own context. You will begin to imagine how your
leadership can create conditions where relationships deepen, where knowledge is created
together, where work feels coherent and purposeful.