Too often, I have been described as someone who does not care about students, as if my only concern is dollars and cents. I understand why people might think this way. My short tenure as superintendent in Randolph County has been defined almost entirely by a financial crisis that I did not create but that I must confront. When the story of a district becomes one of spreadsheets and deficits, it is easy to assume the leader is cold and unfeeling.

But I would challenge anyone to consider what genuine caring looks like. Caring is not telling people what they want to hear. Caring does not preserve the comfort of the present while sacrificing the future. Caring is having the courage to do what is necessary, even when it is unpopular, undesired, and immensely difficult. If I did not care, I would avoid the hard decisions. If I did not care, I would take the easy road, smile politely, and allow the district to crumble quietly under the weight of unsustainable costs. But that is not leadership, and it is certainly not care.

My desire to serve students has brought with it trials I never imagined. I have endured lies, slander, defamatory remarks, twisted manipulations of fact and data, attempts to undermine my reputation, demands for my resignation, calls for my dismissal, and even death threats. These attacks have been painful, but they have not changed my commitment. I remain steadfast, holding to the truth, the facts, and the data that show clearly our district cannot continue on its current path. Leadership, at its core, is not about popularity. It is about responsibility.

I know that emotions and nostalgia run deep when it comes to our schools. These buildings hold generations of memories, and no one wishes to see them close. But true leadership means recognizing that our responsibility is to students, not structures. We cannot allow sentiment to cloud our judgment or close our eyes to reality. Buildings are bricks and mortar; children are flesh and blood. Caring is knowing that students’ opportunities, safety, and futures matter more than the walls in which they learn.

Caring is not passive; it is active. It means fighting for a future that only a few can see but that all deserve to reach. It means letting go of past grievances to do what is best for this generation and the next. Caring sets aside politics and focuses solely on students’ needs. It recognizes that parts of the past must be released if we want to preserve a future. Above all, caring invests time, energy, expertise, empathy, and compassion in the lives of our students.

Some say I do not show that I care because I do not wear my emotions on my sleeve. But have you considered why? When a person is barraged weekly with hostility, hate, and misinformation, the best defense is often composure.

If I let every insult, every accusation, every misrepresentation pierce me, I could not do this work. Guarding my emotions is not a lack of care; it is the only way I can continue to do what is right for our children.

Now imagine what it feels like to stand in my shoes. Each day, I am tasked with making decisions that few want to face, knowing they will bring anger rather than applause. Imagine being told you should resign or be fired, not for wrongdoing, but for choosing responsibility over avoidance. Imagine being labeled “difficult” or “unwilling to work with others,” when all you have done is explain, honestly and transparently, why certain ideas cannot succeed, because they ignore legal realities, policy requirements, or financial limitations. Imagine watching misinformation spread and realizing that staying silent would be easier, but less honest. Through it all, I have learned to stand firm, not because I am unfeeling, but because I must.

My faith teaches me that we are called to treat one another with dignity and respect. I admit that I fall short of this at times, as we all do, but I strive each day to remember and live by that calling. I do not claim to be perfect, nor do I pretend to have all the answers. What I do claim is a willingness to shoulder the burden of leadership when the weight is heavy and the road is lonely. I care enough to walk a path few would choose, to stand firm when it would be easier to step aside, and to accept the anger and criticism that comes with telling the truth. I care enough to do what is hard, not for my own sake, but so that our students may inherit what they deserve: a sustainable school system, a strong community, and a future that is both hopeful and secure.

Caring is not easy. It is not always kind in appearance. It is not always popular. But caring requires sacrifice, courage, and conviction. And caring enough to do what is hard is exactly what this moment demands, and it is what I promise to continue doing for the students of our community.

Dr. Shawn Dilly is the Superintendent of Randolph County Schools.