Written by Sarah Mullin
Deputy Headteacher and EdD student
When Chancellor Rachel Reeves appeared tearful during Prime Minister’s Questions, it became national news. Speculation followed. Some questioned her professionalism. Others expressed empathy. But what if her emotion wasn’t about weakness or pressure — what if it simply showed that she cared?
We may never know what Reeves was feeling, and that’s not the point. What matters is how society responded. In contrast, when Prime Minister Keir Starmer’s voice cracked with emotion moments earlier, many praised his sincerity. The double standard reminds us that we still judge emotional expression differently in men and women — and that’s something schools have the power to change.
In my doctoral research with women secondary headteachers, many shared the pressure to appear composed at all times. One told me:
“I’ve learned to hide my emotions because if I show them, people assume I’m not coping.”
Another said:
“I care deeply about my staff and pupils. But there’s still a sense that to be respected, you have to be hard.”
This expectation isn’t just unfair — it’s limiting. When we reduce leadership to stoicism, we ignore the relational skills that make leaders truly effective: empathy, emotional intelligence, and care.
That’s why these public moments of emotion matter. Because our young people are watching.
Girls need to see that leadership doesn’t require hiding your feelings or shrinking your identity. That you can be strong, successful, and still be yourself. And boys need to see that care and vulnerability aren’t weaknesses — they are part of responsible, emotionally mature leadership.
In schools, we have the chance to model a broader, healthier version of what leadership looks like — not just in what we say, but in how we lead. Staff and students alike benefit from environments where humanity is welcomed, not hidden.
Let’s create a culture where showing heart doesn’t undermine leadership — it defines it.