Every school and organization has a history. It has stories, traditions, relationships, accomplishments, disappointments, and hard-earned lessons. It has people who built what exists today, often through years of sacrifice and commitment. It has a culture shaped by those who came before and carried forward by those who are there now.
Before I arrive with questions, ideas, strategies, or possibilities, I need to remember that context comes first.
I Am a Guest
When I enter someone else’s school or organization, I am a guest.
I may have decades of experience. I may bring knowledge gained from working in schools and organizations around the world. I may recognize patterns, see possibilities, and ask questions that help people imagine a different future.
But I do not know their community as they do.
I have not lived their history. I have not experienced every decision that brought them to this moment. I do not yet understand the stories behind their traditions, the reasons certain practices exist, or the hopes and concerns people carry.
My first responsibility, therefore, is to listen.
Context allows me to understand where people have been before helping them consider where they might go. Without context, change can feel imposed. With context, the future can become a respectful continuation of the community’s story.
This does not mean preserving every practice simply because it has always existed. It means honoring the journey that brought people here and understanding what must be carried forward, what may be released, and what is ready to be reimagined.
Meeting the Future Face to Face
The image on the poster captures this responsibility beautifully.
The man is the keeper of knowledge, the teller of stories, and the protector of culture and tradition. He carries the wisdom of those who came before him.
The girl represents the future.
He could remain standing above her, speaking from his position of authority. He could expect her simply to follow him. Instead, he turns toward her and lowers himself onto one knee.
He meets her face to face.
That gesture changes everything.
He is still the keeper of knowledge, but he understands that knowledge is meant to be shared, not guarded. He respects the girl enough to look her in the eyes. He recognizes that she is more than a recipient of the past. She is the person who will carry its lessons into a future he may never see.
He kneels because his role is not to make her future a replica of his past. His role is to give her the stories, wisdom, values, and courage she will need to create that future for herself.
He is the ultimate good ancestor.
A good ancestor understands that leadership is temporary, but its consequences are lasting. A good ancestor makes decisions with people in mind who may never know their name. A good ancestor protects what is precious while creating space for the next generation to grow beyond what currently seems possible.
Educators, leaders, boards, parents, and communities share this same responsibility.
We are all shaping a world that future generations will inherit.
Respecting the Past While Designing the Future
Much of my work involves helping schools and organizations look ahead.
We explore mission and vision. We examine culture and leadership. We identify strengths. We imagine what students will need in a changing world. We consider which traditions remain essential and which practices may no longer serve the future we hope to create.
But future-focused work must always begin with respect.
Before asking, “What should this school become?” we must understand, “Whom has this school been?”
Before introducing a new direction, we must ask what people value deeply and why.
Before developing a vision, we must listen to the stories that shaped the community.
Before planning the road ahead, we must understand the road already traveled.
This is why I resist arriving with predetermined answers. My role is to help a community discover its own best path forward. I bring questions, processes, experience, and perspective. The people within the community bring the context, identity, wisdom, and lived experience.
We meet face to face.
Together, we determine what deserves protection, what is ready to evolve, and what future generations will need from us.
Why I Take the Selfie
My airport selfie is more than a travel photograph.
It is a promise I make before every engagement.
It reminds me to arrive with humility.
It reminds me that listening comes before advising.
It reminds me to honor the people who built the school or organization before I arrived.
It reminds me that every community has stories worth hearing and wisdom worth preserving.
It reminds me that meaningful change is created with people, never for them.
Most importantly, it reminds me who this work is ultimately for.
The students. The children. The grandchildren. The generations who will inherit what we choose to create today.
An Integral Part of Two Roads Education
The name Two Roads Education comes from the moment when a community reaches a crossroads.
One road continues toward what is familiar. The other invites people to imagine what might be possible. Neither road can be chosen wisely without understanding the journey that led to the intersection.
That is why this poster is an integral part of the Two Roads Education experience.
It represents the relationship between ancestry and possibility, wisdom and imagination, remembrance and responsibility. It reminds us that the past and future are not competing directions. They are part of the same journey.
The keeper of knowledge turns toward the child. He kneels. He meets her face to face. He shares what has been entrusted to him so she can carry it forward in her own way.
That is leadership.
That is education.
That is what it means to be a good ancestor.
And that is why, before I board the plane and begin another journey, I stop in front of this poster.
I look at the past.
I think about the future.
And I remind myself how I must enter the space between them.
Whenever I leave Hawaiʻi to work with a school or organization, I take a selfie in front of the same poster at the Honolulu airport.
It has become a personal ritual.
The poster features a Hawaiian expression: "Ka wā ma mua, ka wā ma hope." “Lessons from the past are the key to the future.”
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Before I Visit a School, I Stop Here
By Robert Landau
At first glance, it may seem unusual for someone whose work focuses so heavily on the future to begin every journey by looking toward the past. But that is precisely the point.
The future never begins with a blank page