As we struggle through our national crisis of leadership, I’m thinking about how we grow good leaders in our schools.

We teach about the three branches of our government, the basics of the Constitution and Bill of Rights, and our election process. We propound the ideals of democracy and venerate great leaders in our history. Because we know that people learn best by doing, we offer opportunities for practicing leadership through class offices, student councils, club and team captainships. These offers are eagerly sought by a small section of the student population: those who are confident, articulate, attention-seeking standouts among their peers.

Many years ago, when I was learning to be a teacher in a Hawaiian homestead community, I stumbled on a strategy that gave every child an opportunity to be a leader. It became a foundational element of our class community.

On the first day, I had each child complete a graphic organizer about themselves — full name, ancestry, strengths and “favorites.” Then I introduced the basic routine for sharing classroom chores, the “Lau Lima” — many hands chart. Each child’s name card (in first name alphabetical order) was placed in a pocket indicating their chore for the week: cleaning the board, straightening bookshelves, picking up litter, and so on.

After they left on Friday, I’d rotate the cards to the new week’s assignments. The first pocket on the chart was labeled Alaka‘i — the Hawaiian word for leader, literally first on the path. On the first day of each week I would introduce the new Alaka‘i, whose name poster was prominently displayed. With great pomp and circumstances, speaking into a pretend microphone, I announced, “Your Alaka‘i is dedicated to supporting and helping all of us.”

I would remind the class, “When you honor your Alaka‘i you honor yourselves, your family, your community and your ancestors.” During the week, the Alaka‘i had great kuleana (the Hawaiian word that means both responsibility and privilege), including leading the lunch line, pointing to the chart as we chanted our times tables, carrying messages to the office, and representing our class to visitors.

At the Friday afternoon closing circle, the Alaka‘i sat in the speaker’s chair, listened as each person in the circle gave an affirmation of how this leader had helped the class, and responded with an affirmation to the class, thanking them for their support.

Here’s the miracle and light that was generated: every single student, without fail, including the shyest and most troubled and troublesome, completely transformed into that good leader so worthy of our honor!

In our project work with classes of all ages, we begin by introducing the breathing ritual and the response and closing circle protocols. After one introduction, we elicit the students to take over the leadership as we step back in support. They never fail us. Just like the Alaka‘i of old, they perform with the honor that is expected of them, that’s been modeled and practiced with them.

At the end of every project, we ask teachers and students to complete a feedback form. The last line of the form asks students to complete the sentence: “My biggest takeaway, most important thing to remember about this project is … ” Last week, a fourth-grader offered this: “You treated us like the people we need to be!”

To grow honorable leaders, we need to call on the best in every student — show them how, allow them the experience and sincerely honor them as the good leaders we need them to be.

Elly Tepper is a consultant educator and Ulu A‘e Transitions Grant Team member.