Thank you for joining me here as I celebrate another trip around the sun with my newly acquired label: Retired Teacher. Creating this site is a gift-to-self that I had hoped to accomplish a couple of years ago, but, well, let’s just say the world got in the way of a few things.
For all of you out there teaching your hearts out during this pandemic, I see you and I recognize your challenges. No one can ever fill your shoes. I am here for you and—while I may not be in a classroom—I support you and want what’s best for you and your students. After all, that’s why we’re here. For you and them, I am ALL IN!
When I announced my retirement to colleagues at the American International School of Guangzhou in China, responses were mixed. While everyone was happy for me and I was surrounded by incredibly supportive people, many also expressed concern. The concerns raised and the thoughts in my head sounded something like this:
But you’re made for the classroom and you’re still young. Thanks! I love you for saying that!
What will you do with your time? Won’t you be bored? You’re kidding, right? I’m a teacher; I still have to-do lists from the 90s!
What will you do with all that passion for kids and learning? True passion can’t be erased. Period.
You LOVE what you do! I can’t imagine you quitting. Quitting? Did you say quitting? I’m not a quitter and I’ll never quit kids and teachers.
Your workshops have been so helpful! Why would you leave? I’m not looking for burnout, I want to stay fresh. Besides, leaving the classroom doesn’t mean I’m leaving education. As if!
I met their concerns emphatically but cordially by explaining that, in no way, would my passion for teaching and learning ever fade. I noted that I could still be found on Twitter, and I relish the opportunity to connect with other professionals. I reiterated my commitment to collaborate with teachers for the benefit of students, whether via workshops or on Twitter. My global professional learning network is near to my heart, and I learn so much from everyone involved. I proposed that being out of the classroom would allow me the time to develop my craft even further, and to do even more consulting and collaborating than was possible while teaching full-time.

Well, June 2021 came and went with an unceremonious entry into retirement. While festivities had been planned to close out the school year, celebrate graduation, and say farewell to teachers who were moving on, an outbreak of Covid threatened our community just days ahead of the end of term. Our beloved school was compelled to close its doors early to prevent the spread of the virus, resulting in many important events being canceled. There was also little time or opportunity for closure, whether one was simply closing out a school year or, in my case, a career. I have to say, thoughts of that “last day” are difficult. I was not only finishing a wonderful career that had afforded me and my husband the opportunity to work in both US public schools and in international schools abroad where our children were also educated. There are so many people I wanted to say goodbye to, so many families I would never have an opportunity to meet again, so many important tasks to do, and so many places in my neighborhood I’d never visit again. There were more memories to make in the classroom, too, during lessons that would never be taught.
My intention upon retiring was to refresh and renew my energies while clarifying my vision for my future self. I had no idea how long this might take or how it would unfold, but that’s exactly how it has played out. I’ve had a few months now to reflect. I’ve remained connected with the important work of schools, continue to learn from colleagues around the world, and to collaborate with teachers as they develop programs for students. I’ve had some days of sleeping in, and weeks of exploring our country. Along with my husband, we’ve been living in a converted camper van since September of 2021.
Though we had always dreamed of an extended road trip on the east coast to take in the vibrant fall foliage, the container ship carrying our belongings from China to the US became stranded as it awaited space and permission to dock. Our moving company advised us to be ready to receive the shipment at any time and, though it ended up taking 5 months to complete this process, being tethered to the American southwest at that time came with its own opportunities to explore.
We’ve spent the months after retirement traveling along the west coast and throughout the southwest of the country. We caught up with people that we hadn’t seen in years and took in the sights at many of our country’s beautiful National and State Parks. We’ve been hosted by friends & family, we’ve glamped & camped and, on occasion, grabbed some instant noodles and a night’s sleep in a travel center parking lot. I’m grateful for having had the opportunity to reconnect with loved ones and to make memories along the way.
The One-Room Schoolhouse
From the latter half of the 19th century through the first decades of the 20th, this was the preferred learning environment in the US and many other countries such as Norway, Ireland and Prussia. It was the gathering place where young minds were educated, characters were shaped, and where the broader community enjoyed dances, socials, meetings, and other special events.

On a recent road trip through Utah, we stayed at the Fruita Campground in Capitol Reef National Park. As two former classroom teachers, we were intrigued to learn about the Mormon pioneers whose history shapes the Park. Part of that history is witnessed in the form of a tiny, one-room schoolhouse preserved for visitors to see while visiting the Fruita region.
I’ve always had a fascination with the concept of the one-room schoolhouse and its place in our history, but I didn’t expect the wave of memories seeing one would trigger. As I stood at the National Park information plaque, which describes the community spirit represented by the building, I was instantly reminiscing about A Place Called School. Yes, the book by John Goodlad. Talk about a text-to-text connection!
The plaque implored us to ponder our own schooling, but my mind jumped to my undergrad days as a Human Development student at the University of California, Riverside, and to the post-grad credential program where I was shaped as an educator, where I really started to sink my teeth into the craft of teaching through collaboration with professors and classmates. For prospective educators of the 80s, Goodlad’s work was pivotal. He admonished us to make data-based changes that would, “improv(e) the schools we have” and to gear any changes toward the needs of specific school communities. He endorsed general education for all to include math, science, literature, language, society, social studies, the arts, and vocational training. He pushed our thinking with his own questions, some of which have stuck with me. “I wonder,” he reflects, “about failure that leads individuals to feel that they are not good at all.” Or this one (my favorite!) which follows his bold statement that boredom is rampant in our schools, “Why are our schools not places of joy?” Exactly.
These recollections became insights at this moment in my life that falls somewhere between my classroom teacher life and the next chapter of my career that centers upon supporting teachers. I, like Goodlad, prioritize reliance on data when making educational reforms. I want ALL students to explore a broad range of academic disciplines and creative pursuits. I believe students are served best when their teachers are supported through proper training for the incredibly complex and difficult work we do. I want students to feel like school is a good place and to experience the joy that comes from prevailing in the face of challenge and from the relationships they form with teachers and peers. These insights led to an epiphany. I need not wait to figure out where my post-classroom life is leading; I am living it! My passion for education is very much intact, and there’s no need to figure out my priorities for this phase of life. My priorities are clearer than ever.
In this new phase of my journey as an educator, my goal is to harness the assets of teachers to help all students thrive. I want to collaborate with you to build our capacity to meet the needs of all students, and create inclusive learning environments that support the whole child.