Reflective supervision for educators

School leadership can come with joy, weight and loneliness, and the challenge of sustaining the self in the role long term. Adding to the alarming data from the longitudinal Australian Principal Occupational, Health, Safety and Wellbeing Survey, which shows the deteriorating mental health of school principals and high intention to quit their jobs, is the recent report by Professor Jane Wilkinson et al. (2025) on the invisible emotional labour and psychosocial risks of principal work.

At this week’s Australian Secondary Principals’ Association National Summit in Canberra, Federal Education Minister, The Hon Jason Clare MP, announced that the Commonwealth will contribute funding to a national pilot for reflective supervision for principals, coordinated by Headspace, in response to growing concern about the health and wellbeing of school leaders.

This week, I also completed my second two-day intensive for the Reflective Supervision in Education course at the University of Sydney, led by Professor Michael Anderson, Associate Professor Reverend Geoff Broughton and Associate Professor Mary Ann Hunter.

Recommendation 3 of the Unveiling the Ripple Effect: How Offensive Behaviours Impact School Leaders’ Productivity report (Dicke et al., 2025) is to institutionalise professional supervision and reflective practice for school leaders through a range of implementation actions. This, the authors argue, will create a systematic avenue for leaders to process complex experiences, strengthen coping mechanisms, and enhance professional growth.

Given these intersecting moments and the emergence of supervision for educators, this post explores what supervision might offer school leaders and the education system.

Reflective supervision is something Kristen Douglas and I talked about in a 2025 The Edu Salon podcast episode. In the episode Kristen explains that leaders need to “slow down to speed up”, with “down tools, balcony view, reflective practice” time to “talk, process and offset”. More recently, Associate Professor Paul Kidson and I spoke about reflective supervision on the podcast, with Paul pointing out that supervision is about principals’ work being sustainable so that “they can turn up in their work as humans to be able to serve their communities as best they can.”

As a school principal and coach whose PhD explored transformational professional learning, I have been intrigued by the concept of ‘supervision’ as I learn more about it and train to become a supervisor myself. What follows are my reflections at this moment in my journey.

Supervision is like and unlike it sounds. It is not ‘to supervise’ or oversee. Rather, it is about resourcing the self, and providing a space for someone to develop or experience “super vision” or a kind of super-seeing – a broader range of perspectives about their work leading to reflection, insight and ignition. In this way, it can be a useful process to support school leaders to make decisions amid complexity, hone their ethical and relational judgement, and mitigate the isolation they might find in their roles.

One metaphor for an aspect of what supervision offers is ‘pit time’, referencing the time coal miners were given for the restorative washing off of the grime of the day’s work, in order to enter their home and personal lives unmarred by the muck of the day. Supervision can offer a place for school leaders to find renewal and rejuvenation, remaining deeply engaged in the work of being with and for community, while being with and for themselves. It can help people to show up with intentionality and authenticity, at work and at home. However, if supervision is positioned only as a download space or wellbeing support, we risk underestimating its role in professional judgement, ethical decision making, and sustainable leadership practice.

Especially intriguing to me is the place of and for ‘soul’ in supervision. Michael Paterson (2019) says that “at the heart of reflective practice lies a dialogue between Soul, Role and Context” (p.15). He describes ‘soul’ as what makes a person tick, what gets them out of bed in the morning, and what fires them up from the inside with purpose and meaning. He challenges us to ask: “How do your soul and role fare at work? How do the requirements of your role sit with your deepest values? How does your context inhibit or release you for others? To what do you default at work: context, role or soul?” (p.16).

I am also particularly struck by Parker Palmer’s confronting statement that “as we become more obsessed with succeeding, or at least surviving … we lose touch with our souls and disappear into our roles” (p.15), at great cost to our sense of self, alignment, purpose and connection. I have been sitting with the discomfort of that question.

Do we lose touch with our soul as we disappear into our role? How might supervision connect soul, role and context?

Often in mentoring or coaching relationships, we explore, tease out and dig deep into our roles and our contexts, leading us to operationalise and positively act to perform in our roles and serve our contexts. Supervision occurs at the nexus of soul, role and context, attending to the inner world, core purpose, the crux of our heart and self in our work, and the interconnectedness of us as human beings in ecosystems of individuals, groups, structures and systems.

Supervision, I am discovering, is something that happens in relationship. It is a ‘walking together’ in reflective dialogue that opens, broadens, deepens, nudges and uplifts, moving us beyond the immediacy of events or the desire for a quick fix. In the walking together, supervisee and supervisor engage in a multiplicity of the whats and whos of professional practice. What is going on for someone externally and internally? Who is affected by the way they approach their work, and in what ways? What might they draw upon or do to better serve those in their communities?

Supervision invites a different pace to the day to day. A slowing down, an introspection, and a space of openness and safety. It can help us untangle complexity or notice what was previously peripheral, or unarticulated, or limited by habit. It can challenge us to look inwardly to places we might not normally allow ourselves to go or to awaken parts of ourselves we have pushed aside or dampened. It might ask us to put down the armour momentarily to consider our softness and vulnerabilities – something school leaders often train ourselves to harden in the name of resilience, performance and survival in the job. It can also invite us to look outwardly at those unseen others affected by the ways in which we engage in our work.

I am reminded of Christian van Nieuwerburgh’s work on a coaching way of being, and the importance of attending to the energy, words and needs of the person in front of you. I am reminded of Trista Hollweck’s work on professional accompaniment as a reciprocal learning journey involving walking alongside others with curiosity, empathy, nonjudgement and compassion. Supervision is a practice of accompaniment, attunement and presence that serves the supervisee and also those unseen others influenced by the way they show up. It works through intense listening, absolute presence, intentional questions, naming what might otherwise remain unspoken, and appropriate challenge, through a balance of intuitive and technical decisions by the supervisor, and the relational interplay between supervisee and supervisor.

In the current policy landscape, and at a time where much of the language of leadership is oriented towards direction, influence, and decision-making, supervision offers a way of approaching practice that values attention, curiosity, and the willingness to sit with uncertainty. In a profession characterised by pace and pressure, it offers a different kind of space in which leaders might come to know their work, and themselves, differently. In this moment of policy attention, how supervision is understood and enacted will shape its contribution to professional practice, resilience, and the sustainability of school leadership.

Post script: The day after this blog post was published, the 2025 Australian Principal Occupational Health, Safety, and Wellbeing Survey report was released (Dicke et al., 2026).

References

Dicke, T., Kidson, P., Marsh, H., (2026). The Australian Principal Occupational Health, Safety, and Wellbeing Survey (IPPE Report). Sydney: Institute for Positive Psychology and Education, Australian Catholic University.

Dicke, T., Rowston, K., Basarkod, G., Jardine, A., Clarke, T., Ko, H., & APPA, (2025). Unveiling the Ripple Effect: How Offensive Behaviours Impact School Leaders’ Productivity (APPA and IPPE Report). Sydney: Institute for Positive Psychology and Education, Australian Catholic University.

Paterson, M. (2019). Discipled by praxis: Soul and role in context. Practical Theology, 12(1), 7-19.

Palmer, P. J. (2004). A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life. San Francisco, CA, Jossy-Bass.

Wilkinson, J., Walsh, L. Grice, C., Longmuir, F., Chandler, P., Keddie, A., & Delany, T. (2025). Invisible Labour: Principals’ Emotional Labour in Volatile Times. Report One: Technical Overview of the Project. Monash University.

The neverending story of the PhD

Rhymes that keep their secrets / Will unfold behind the clouds / And there upon the rainbow / Is the answer to a neverending story ~ Lyrics to ‘Neverending Story’ by Limahl. Watch the song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Vf2sDgeu7k

Bastian atop Falkor; just like PhD-finishing triumph Source: http://thephobia.com/post/58187104333/the-neverending-story

Bastian atop Falkor the luckdragon in the film; just like PhD-finishing triumph
Source: http://thephobia.com/post/58187104333/the-neverending-story

Children of the 80s like myself will remember The Neverending Story, a quest narrative in which the protagonist escapes into a fantastical world through the pages of a magical book. What started as a 1979 German fantasy novel by Michael Ende became a 1984 film directed by Wolfgang Peterson with a deliciously-80s theme song by Limahl. When I’ve been asked what the song of my PhD would be, I often answer ‘The Neverending Story’ as it just goes on and on!

Recently, I’ve been reflecting on the seeming neverendingness of the PhD. I’ve had people in life and on Twitter congratulating me on the completion of my PhD … despite the fact I have not submitted! I think it is because I announced with glee that I had finished my full thesis draft in July. People seem to think that I surely MUST be done by now.

But no.

While the first full draft means that all the chapters are written, it does not mean that the document is (anywhere near) finished. There are some great online resources to help doctoral students with long and laborious revision and editing. Pat Thomson talks about the process of revision, as opposed to editing. Rachel Cayley’s great piece outlines the stages and layers of editing. Katherine Firth’s post on editing gives thorough and accessible strategies. And Tara Brabazon penned this Times Higher Education article which includes ten editing cycles, including ‘read every sentence underlined with a ruler’ (I have tried this). A finished first draft is 3-6 months from a finished final draft.

I kicked off my full-draft revision with a writing retreat, in which I spent about two full days and nights on the first 40 pages. This wasn’t editing. It was Frankensteinesque dismemberment and radical textual surgery, as Pat Thomson puts it. After making it through my first lot of revisions, I talked about my willingness to chop chop chop, to improve the text’s argument by streamlining it closer to its essence. I have now managed to cut what was a 110,000 word draft to 95,000 words. And the text is stronger for it, reflecting Katherine Firth’s comments on the pruning required of verbose texts:

Like a haircut when your tresses are damaged, or like a diseased rose bush, cutting a lot of stuff off can give the rest of your work a space to breathe, and promote healthy growth for that last little bit.

But still, I didn’t think that I’d be making such big changes this close to the end of the game. Just when I think I’m an Oxford comma away from being done, a new ‘a-ha’ moment or a feedback curveball comes my way.

Last week I met with my secondary supervisor who posed a question about a ten-page section of my literature review: How did it fit with the threads of argument in my thesis? On reflection, I realised that this ten pages was relevant but not central. It was something I had been strongly driven by at the beginning of my PhD, but which had become a distraction from my main argument. I was so close to the document that I hadn’t been able to question it in this way. I was attached to something that had been in my thesis from the beginning, but which no longer fit. Luckily, I was attached but not precious about this section, so when its inclusion was interrogated, I was able to say, “Ok, maybe this doesn’t fit. I’ll try lifting it out and see how it works.” I’ve cut the offending section and pasted it into another document, with the intention of reworking the material into a paper. A little of the material I’ve added into my rationale and context sections, in very small bits. The literature review now feels stronger, punchier, less bogged down, leaving the main threads of my argument to breathe.

With less than a month to go, on and on I go. Read, revise, edit, proof, receive feedback, add literature (I can’t stop myself from reading!), apply feedback, read again.

Yet despite what can feel like the dizzying highs, terrifying lows, almost-finisheds and never-finisheds of the PhD, the doctoral experience is a great example of what good learning can look like. The candidate gets to work on a project of personal passion and importance. They are invested in the work and own its purpose. They work over a long period of time, getting (hopefully) regular feedback from their Falkor-luckdragonesque supervisors which (hopefully) helps them to develop their research and writing into the best it can be within PhD parameters.

Even at submission my PhD story won’t end. Then it will be waiting for three examiners’ reports, making corrections, resubmitting. It’s a long road to ‘Dr Deb’. It’s “the neverending storrrrr-yyyyyyy! Ahh-aa-ahh! Ahh-aa-ahh! Ahh-aa-ahhhhhh!” It’s not over yet!