Leading With Purpose: How Principal Demitria Lawton-Greggs Is Shaping Joy, Accountability, and Belonging at School 54

Demitria Lawton-Greggs

On Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I talked over the phone with Demitria Lawton-Greggs, principal of Flower City School No. 54, to talk about legacy, not as abstraction or slogan, but as something lived daily in classrooms, hallways, and hard conversations. For Lawton-Greggs, King’s legacy is not simply remembered; it is practiced.

“King opened doors,” she told me. “The fact that we can have all types of people sit in one room, not worry about status, not let the color of your skin be a barrier, I am so thankful for what he did. He was a young man, and he changed the world. He left such a powerful legacy. It’s inspiring.”

For Lawton-Greggs, King’s example is both deeply personal and immediately practical. “If you are passionate about something, go for it,” she said. “I think about myself. I am a young woman. I am a young Black woman. You can do this right now.”

That insistence—that leadership is not something deferred to someday—runs through her story.

She grew up in Rochester, raised primarily by her mother alongside her younger sister. Her father was present, but not in the household. “My mom was the primary caretaker,” she said. “The day-to-day work went to my mother, but we had our routines, our little joys.”

Those routines grounded her childhood. Saturdays meant Wegmans, Wendy’s for lunch, and a movie rental from Blockbuster. Sundays were for her mother’s big dinners. “I really looked forward to those routines,” she said. “I carried them into high school—shopping, rest day, getting ready for the week.”

High school became a formative space not just academically, but relationally. At Edison Tech High School, mentors helped her see herself more clearly. Dr. Rose Helen Merrell James, she recalled, “was kind and always had a listening ear.” Another mentor, a friend named Kim, offered guidance and affirmation. “I was one of those girls who always had older friends,” Lawton-Greggs said. “Those relationships taught me how to navigate challenges and gave me confidence to pursue what I wanted.”

College was always assumed, though the destination was uncertain. “From my teenage years, I knew I needed to go to college—but that was all I knew,” she said. With a mother who held a high school diploma, professional pathways felt distant. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but I knew I wanted to be in charge of something.”

She pursued buisness at Genesee Community College, eventually commuting from Rochester to Batavia after leaving the dorms after just two nights. “The first two years, you’re taking foundational classes,” she said. “You don’t have to decide everything right away.” She worked at Toys “R” Us during that time—where she met her future husband—balancing school, work, and uncertainty.

Clarity came unexpectedly. A friend showed her lesson plans from her education program. “I was struggling with statistics in my business program,” Lawton-Greggs laughed, “my friend gave me her homework to just see what it was like, and I actually took it back with me and did it! When I started creating lesson plans, I had so much fun.” That moment mattered. “I told my mom, ‘I want to be a teacher.’”

A counselor warned she might be a year behind. “But we made it work,” she said. “We came up with a plan.”

She began student teaching in 2010 and accepted her first full-time classroom role in 2011 at School No. 9, where she taught until 2018.

“I saw myself in the students,” she said. “Many came from single-parent households. They didn’t have much money, but they wanted to thrive. I wanted to give them opportunities I knew could change things.”

That impulse led her to create Sisters to Sisters, a mentorship program for girls in her classroom. She launched theatrical productions, organized a step team, and invested in enrichment school-wide. “We had a huge Christmas play every year,” she said. “I wanted students to experience more than the regular curriculum.”

Those experiences mattered academically as well. “When students had outlets, I could see it reflected in their ELA scores,” she said. “Creativity and academics aren’t opposites—you can intertwine them.”

Now, as principal of School No. 54, Lawton-Greggs lives at the intersection of visibility and responsibility.

“To the public, leadership looks like events,” she said. “Pasta with the Principal. Lego tournaments. Media events. Bus lines. District meetings.” She greets families daily, uses robo-calls and social media to stay connected, and shows up visibly. “I don’t put on a front. I’ll tell people, ‘I’m drained.’”

Behind the scenes, the work is heavier. “You’re responsible for everything,” she said. “If things go well, great. If they don’t—it’s on you.” The emotional toll is constant. “A parent might tell me they don’t know where they’ll sleep tonight. I have to figure out a way to help them. Those moments stay with you.”

Leadership, she’s learned, requires boundaries as much as compassion. “Early on, I struggled with boundaries,” she said. “I was still wrestling with the people-pleaser in me.” Over time, she learned to pair care with clarity. “Expectations are non-negotiable—but support is constant.”

Her approach centers coaching, follow-up, and fairness. “Strong leadership isn’t rigidity,” she said. “It’s structure with grace.” She emphasizes follow-through in a profession often stretched thin. “We can’t say, ‘This is the expectation,’ and then disappear. Students deserve consistency.”

She works closely with counselors, social workers, psychologists, and community partners like the Center for Youth. Weekly meetings focus on prevention, not just reaction. “We ask: How do we celebrate everyone? How do we partner? How do we move students from will to skill?”

For Lawton-Greggs, faith is central. “The biggest piece of me—my faith. My faith has guided me through moments of uncertainty, reminded me to stay strong when it gets tough, and anchored me in purpose. My faith continues to shape how I show up and keep going!”

Lawton-Greggs is candid about how her leadership is perceived. “I’m young. I’m an African American woman,” she said. “Sometimes I’m labeled ‘too strict,’ ‘too intense,’ ‘abrasive.’” When those dynamics surface, she centers her purpose. “I focus on the students. That’s the vision.”

She also names the emotional labor expected of women leaders. “You’re supposed to be strong but soft, decisive but nurturing, confident but not intimidating,” she said. “For students, you’re a mother figure, an aunt, a big sister. You’re always available. It’s a lot.”

Self-awareness sustains her. “I do the internal work,” she said. “Relationships matter. If staff trust you, they’ll go above and beyond.” In her third year as principal—after just four months as an assistant principal—she knew credibility and connection had to grow together.

She bought a rolling cart and moved through the building daily. “Prevention matters,” she said. “If teachers see you before things escalate, trust grows.” They call her “D.” “That’s who I am,” she said. “I’m a coach.”

Routines still ground her. Saturdays still belong to errands. Structure still brings calm. Her mother’s death in 2019 changed her deeply. “She was my person,” Lawton-Greggs said quietly. “Leadership doesn’t stop grief—but you learn how to carry it.”

She and her husband now take short trips—Syracuse, Buffalo, Erie—small recalibrations that protect family time. “Leadership taught me that integrity isn’t just how you lead at work,” she said. “It’s how you show up at home.”

That lesson came into sharp focus after a difficult conversation with her husband. “He told me I wasn’t present,” she said. “At first, I wanted to defend myself. But he was right.” That reckoning reshaped her understanding of responsibility.

“Power isn’t authority,” Lawton-Greggs said. “It’s responsibility.” Responsibility to students. To teachers. To family. To self.

When asked what she hopes students and colleagues will say about her someday, her answer is precise.

“That I was clear. That my expectations were consistent and grounded in purpose. That I was committed to students. That even though the world is challenging, the environment was filled with joy.”

She paused.

“I hope they say there was love in the building. That people wanted to be there. That it felt magical—like the Disney World effect. You drive under that banner and feel excitement. We have to create our own narrative.”

For the students of School No. 54, and for young women watching her lead, Demitria Lawton-Greggs embodies a simple, powerful truth: possibility is not postponed. Courage is contagious. Faith and leadership, at their best, open doors others can walk through.