Let me confess something I probably shouldn’t say as an educator and Star Wars fan: sometimes, I envy the Empire. Not for the uniforms (white, grey, and black are too drab for me) or their workplace culture (they’ve constructed a planet killer), but for one thing they nail: alignment.
I’ve been watching Andor, a brilliant dive into the beginnings of the Star Wars universe and the rebellion, and I can’t shake the uncomfortable parallel between the Rebel Alliance and the Empire and our work in schools. In this analogy, schools represent the battlefield, with educators as the Rebels, and students as the Empire.
Hold your lightsabers—I’ll explain.
In Andor, the Rebellion is noble, righteous, and deeply inspiring. Its members fight for the freedom they unknowingly surrendered to the emperor, yet they are also a logistical disaster. You’ve got the Ghormans protesting, rogue soldiers stranded in some rainy wilderness, and Mon Mothma playing political chess at galas. All good people deeply committed to a singular objective; however, none of them trusts each other, leading to a disorganized mess. Sound familiar?
In schools, educators are the Rebels. Inspired. Exhausted. We hold meetings about meetings. Some of us are trying to ignite systemic change. Others are just trying to unjam the copier. We use big, beautiful words like “every child reaching their full potential” or “learning that lasts a lifetime,” but too often, we struggle to agree on what that looks like in a Tuesday afternoon classroom.
If you ask five teachers how to handle a late assignment, you’ll get seven policies, two philosophical objections, and one passive-aggressive Google Doc. Suggest a minor tweak to the dress code, and suddenly you’re in a full-on debate about gender expression, cultural relevance, and whether middle schoolers can wear Crocs with socks.
It’s not because educators don’t care. Often, it’s the opposite. They care so much that they create policies to meet student needs in the absence of clear schoolwide support. We’re all fighting for the same goals: student growth, community, and belonging. But like the Rebels, we’re siloed, burned out, improvising, and sometimes just praying no one asks about hallway transitions.
The students? They’re the Empire. Slick. Synchronized. Somehow, all wearing the same hoodie. They move in packs, speak in code (sigma and skibidi), and mysteriously all forget homework on the same day without visible communication. The Empire doesn’t waste time. They don’t debate mission clarity or send reply-all messages about stormtrooper wellness breaks. They see a disruption and eliminate it—quickly, efficiently, and with disturbing precision.
The unity of the Empire is terrifying—but effective. And that raises a sobering question: What if schools had that kind of cohesion, but for good?
Leadership Means Unity, Clarity, and Purpose
“I burn my life to make a sunrise I know I’ll never see.” Luthen Rael’s words from Andor weren’t just about rebellion; they were about leadership, vision, and sacrifice. Educators embody these principles daily. When a teacher says, “You matter” to a student dismissed by others, that’s a form of rebellion. By incorporating voices and stories that often go unheard, we dismantle the dominant narrative. Effective teaching goes beyond delivering content; it creates sacred spaces for students to question, dream, and defy convention. However, rebellion without strategy is just noise.
The real challenge in education: It’s not the Empire that breaks us. It’s the entropy, miscommunication, duplication, and the slow drift from a shared mission to individual survival. When teachers feel unsupported, departments drift apart and leaders stay siloed, fracturing the rebellion. Even the most passionate educators may find themselves just trying to make it to Friday.
Leadership isn’t about being the loudest voice in the room. It’s about being the most connected one. We don’t always have the luxury of clarity—mandates shift, parents push back, and schedules change. Yet, when united by our values, we can still move forward together despite policy changes.
Schools need leaders who foster movements built on trust, shared mission, and clarity rather than lone-wolf heroism. Students need mentors who know how to advocate for them, not martyrs. Even the most righteous rebellions collapse when no one agrees on where they’re going. The only force more powerful than a well-organized Empire is a collective of educators who finally stop arguing long enough to aim their brilliance in the same direction.
Imagine if every teacher, administrator, and department moved in the same direction, not out of obligation, but because we believed in the mission. This doesn’t imply conformity; rather, it signifies cohesion. We must stop treating curriculum like personal playlists and start seeing it as a shared soundtrack. Instead of quietly judging other teachers’ classroom management, we can establish norms that support all students, ensuring policies reflect shared values.
Rebellion With Strategy: What School Leaders Can Do Now
We don’t need a Death Star—we need direction. For school leaders ready to trade chaos for cohesion, here are a few ways to start.
Clarify the mission.
- Co-create a one-sentence team mission statement for your grade level or department.
- Revisit your school’s mission with your staff. Ask: What would this look like on a random Tuesday at 2:15 p.m.?
Build cohesion, not conformity.
- Develop shared grading or discipline norms, then test and revise them collaboratively.
- Start faculty meetings with a five-minute roundtable on what’s working, inviting all voices (not just administration) to build a common language.
Strengthen collective efficacy.
- Pair new and experienced staff for co-planning or walkthroughs once a month.
- Identify one schoolwide initiative (e.g., social-emotional learning, advisory, writing) and align two to three lessons across departments to reinforce it.
Cut through the noise.
- Replace your next subcommittee report-out with a visual map showing who’s doing what and why to identify overlaps and gaps.
- Audit your school calendar and eliminate one recurring meeting that could be replaced by asynchronous input or team lead summaries.
Finding Collective Efficacy
Leadership is about aligning energy rather than draining it. It means choosing coherence over charisma. It means reminding tired, talented people of our shared purpose, especially when they’ve forgotten why they started. Great schools aren’t just run smoothly—they’re built on the belief that educators, when they work together, can make an impact on every student. This belief, known as collective efficacy, fosters unity in place of isolation, purpose in place of burnout, and direction in place of chaos.
To create something better, whether leading a team, a classroom, or a hallway, we must shift from managing chaos to conducting strategic focus—not with fear or force, but with clarity. In a galaxy, or a school, riddled with distractions, the greatest act of rebellion might just be alignment.