Do NY State Superintendents Just 'Kiss the Ring?'
Sweethearts & Heroes Founder Tom Murphy walked into the 2025 Winter Institute & Lobby Day, hosted by the NY State Council of School Superintendents (NYSCOSS) in Albany, NY, with a chip on his shoulder.
For 15 years, Tom avoided these events. After a decade and a half in the railroad industry — where he climbed to Corporate Director for Rail America and ran their National Rail Traffic Control Center — Tom’s no stranger to high-stakes conventions. He’s rubbed elbows with titans of an industry that hauls in $80 billion annually, sat through countless keynotes, and endured the predictable dog-and-pony shows that follow.
So, when he stepped into the NYSCOSS event, he thought he had it pegged: dazzling keynotes, a few buzzwords to signal virtue, and a slow drip of data while attendees scroll their phones to stay awake. Inspiration is just a cheap trick. They blow your mind, then send you to snooze-fest sessions where nothing sticks.
It was going to be the same circus run by different ringmasters.
When you’re in schools daily, hearing frontline educators say the top doesn’t get it, that cynicism feels earned. Tom had written off most superintendents as phonies who had forgotten their origins. They climbed the ladder only to become politicians who kissed the ring and compromised their values to stay palatable.
He knew what was going to happen, but Tom’s not one to half-commit. He threw on his signature pink jacket and Free Hug shirt and decided to show his face at least. What he didn’t expect was to have his perspective flipped upside down.
At NYSCOSS, he saw something he’d never seen before.
These superintendents weren’t the knee-benders he had anticipated. After a mind-blowing keynote (which they always are), Tom dragged himself to his first session. He sat there, skeptical as ever, thinking, What will these people tell me about connecting with kids I don’t already know?
Then, this 25-year veteran superintendent started his session, and Tom witnessed the unshakable value system he led with. It wasn’t about curriculum checklists or test scores. It was about what matters — kids, teacher well-being, and community.
Tom’s mind was blown. He left his first session thinking; I’d pay this guy to coach me on being a better human!
But here’s the kicker: Tom has been on the frontlines with Sweethearts & Heroes for years, in over 1,000 schools in NY State alone, hearing educators rave about their work — “This is incredible, we’ve never seen anything like it!” He hears the same thing every day: “This is what matters! This is what we should be focusing on!”
Clearly, at the highest rung in education short of government, these superintendents were professing the same thing, bold as brass.
So why isn’t it trickling down?
When Sweethearts & Heroes goes to a school, presents the message, trains the staff in Circle, and shares how these practices can change their entire culture, we always hit the same wall: “We don’t have time for this.”
The disconnect gnaws at Tom!
84% of teachers believe that these human skills are more important to focus on than ever! Connection and resilience should be a priority, but the refrain is, “We don’t have time!”
Superintendents are up there preaching what matters, but on the ground, it scarcely becomes a reality. The answers are in the conference rooms of Albany, but they’re not reaching the classrooms. Why?
Tom can’t process it.
These superintendents aren’t phonies — they’re there because their hearts are in it. Tom wants to personally thank each of them. In fact, he intends to join NYSCOSS to learn from these brilliant minds. Tom Murphy, a business owner who’s stared down corporate giants, wants their wisdom. They are protectors — empty vessels built to hold and shield the students, teachers, and communities around them.
The word “superintendent” isn’t just a title — it’s a promise.
“Super” means excellent, top-tier.
“In” suggests something enclosed, surrounded, contained.
And “tendent”? It’s from the Latin tendere — to stretch, to tend, like a tendon connecting muscle to bone, making the whole body move.
A superintendent is a tough, fibrous container — hollow not because it’s empty of purpose but because it’s designed to protect what fills it.
Boom.
These men and women weren’t just talking the talk; they were living their ontology.
And yet, the question lingers, open and unresolved: If the people at the top know what matters, why isn’t it transforming the daily lives of our kids? They’re professing the right things — so what’s stopping the results?