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Make the Story, Make the Weather

Hello,

I’ve been noticing something lately.

I am no longer “in the know” when it comes to pop culture. My teenage children reference people, shows, and music that I have never heard of, even though they all definitely know what they're talking about. In the meantime, I'm watching reels on Instagram (which my kids tell me is like TikTok leftovers) to listen to translations of what kids are saying, so it makes sense to me.

There was a time when I felt like a pop culture connoisseur (although saying that now makes me feel like I might need an intervention from Dr. Rick, the “parental life coach” from Progressive commercials who helps people avoid becoming their parents). When I was my kids' ages, there were fewer options, fewer channels, and a much more shared experience of what we watched and listened to. You could count on overlapping conversations because there was less fragmentation. That is no longer the case.

So when I recently heard about the miniseries Love Story about JFK Jr. and Carolyn Bessette Kennedy, it caught my attention for a different reason. It pulled me back to a time when I read People Magazine, watched MTV, and had sleepovers. In other words, a time when I did recognize the names of modern celebrities whose relationships lived somewhere in the foreground of my cultural awareness.

I'm embarrassed to say that I came across Love Story through a segment on Inside Edition about how Daryl Hannah was portrayed. Apparently, Hannah felt compelled to write an opinion piece that ran in the New York Times in which she overtly denied the show's portrayal of her relationship with JFK Jr., stating that a “real, living person is not a narrative device,” and that what appeared in the series was not a “remotely accurate representation of my life, my conduct or my relationship with John. The actions and behaviors attributed to me are untrue.”

Like all of us, I am not immune to the nostalgia associated with my teenage years. So I started watching the series to see what the hype was about. Not surprisingly, before each episode, there is a disclaimer that some elements have been dramatized or fictionalized.

As you watch, it becomes clear that this disclaimer is not a small caveat. There are entire conversations, private exchanges, and deeply personal moments that no one could possibly verify. In some cases, there is literally no one alive who could confirm what happened. Nevertheless, the story unfolds in a way that invites interpretation, emotional reaction, and judgment.

At the same time, I was celebrating my 24th wedding anniversary. My husband and I have been together for 27 years. That kind of time brings with it a full range of experiences. There have been seasons that felt easy and connected, and there have been seasons that were incredibly hard. Times when stress, exhaustion, and competing demands made it feel like we were out of sync more often than not.

If someone were to take a handful of moments from those more difficult seasons and build a narrative around them, they could tell a very convincing story about our relationship. It just would not be a complete one.

This is what makes the fundamental attribution error (FAE) so powerful. FAE is our tendency to attribute other people’s actions to their character or personality while overlooking the situational factors that may be influencing their behavior. We tend to explain other people’s behavior as a reflection of who they are, while explaining our own behavior as a response to circumstances. We give ourselves context. We give ourselves grace. We understand the backstory. We rarely extend that same level of understanding to others.

So, when the world saw JFK Jr. and Carolyn fighting in Washington Park in 1996, where she was hitting him, the narrative was that Carolyn was volatile. When Carolyn refrained from going out in public because she was stalked by the paparazzi, she was labeled as aloof, or their marriage was on the rocks, rather than as someone unprepared for the deluge of attention. Same details, different interpretation.

This does not just show up in what we watch. It shows up in how we lead.

In schools and organizations, we see this play out every day. A staff member builds strong relationships with students, and those students stop by just to say hello. From one perspective, that is evidence of connection and trust. From another, it becomes a distraction or a sign that the employee is not focused on their work.

A student misses school, and a call home is made. It is easy to assume a lack of value for attendance. It is harder, and far more important, to consider that the family may be navigating a child’s social anxiety, trying to balance support with expectations, and struggling in ways that are not visible from the outside.

A student does not complete their work and is labeled as lazy. What is not seen is the student who was up late caring for siblings, working to contribute financially, or managing responsibilities at home that far exceed what we would expect for their age.

In each of these cases, we are seeing a moment and assigning a meaning. We are building a story with incomplete information and then responding as if that story is The Truth. Capital Ts.

When leaders accept those stories without question, they do more than misinterpret behavior. They miss an opportunity to shape the culture and climate of the organization. Leaders are not meant to forecast the weather. They are meant to make the weather.



When leaders lean into or allow others to make quick judgments, they create a climate where assumptions harden into beliefs and people are reduced to single moments. When leaders choose and foster curiosity in others, they create a climate where context matters, where people are seen more fully, and where better decisions are possible.

That shift matters. It changes how staff talk about students and families. It changes how colleagues interpret one another’s actions. It changes whether people feel seen as whole individuals or reduced to a single moment. The reality is that every person we encounter is living a far more complex story than what we see in front of us. Just like the dramatized scenes in a series, what is visible is only a fraction of what is real.

Fred Rogers, someone many of us grew up with, once said, “There isn’t anyone you couldn’t learn to love once you’ve heard their story.” The question for us is whether we are willing to understand the story before we decide what is true. After all, if leaders are responsible for making the weather, then the kind of story we choose to believe shapes the climate we create...and when we get it right, it begins to feel like something many of us remember from childhood: a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

~Heather


P.S. This week’s Catch of the Week is the book Becoming Kin by Patty Krawec. It is beautifully written and offers powerful insight into how we understand belonging, identity, and our relationships with one another.

Krawec, an Anishinaabe writer, invites readers to see history from a different vantage point, one that challenges many of the narratives the Western world has long accepted. By weaving her own story with those of her ancestors and broader themes of creation, replacement, and disappearance, she brings clarity to the realities of settler colonialism while also pointing toward a different way forward.


What makes the book especially compelling is its focus on kinship. Rather than centering division, Krawec asks a deeper question: what would it look like to remember that we are all related? She encourages readers to consider how we might become better relatives to one another, to the land, and to Indigenous communities, while also “unforgetting” histories that have been simplified or erased.


The catch is this: when we expand our understanding of connection, we begin to see responsibility differently. This is a thoughtful, challenging read that stays with you long after you finish it.


P.P.S. Please remember to...


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