When I got my first teaching position back in 1989, the principal showed me my classroom, pointed to some textbooks, provided a spiral bound lesson plan book, and said, “Good luck.”

Ok, it probably wasn’t that bad. However, the expectation was that as a college graduate and a certified teacher, I should know what to do. Never mind that my degree was in Secondary English and that this job was a self-contained classroom for students with learning disabilities. Sure, I had had a few special education classes in my undergraduate studies, but was I prepared to teach all subjects every day to a group of seventh graders with specific needs?

Not at all, but I’m sure my naive self thought, “how hard can it be?” and got busy.

Other than the morning devotions we were encouraged to attend and chatting over the lunch table with the other middle school teachers, I don’t remember much interaction with anyone who had more experience than I did. I think the principal dropped into my class once. I had to report a few incidents to the vice principal, of course. And there was that one time when a couple of my colleagues pulled a prank on me, placing my teacher’s desk in the boys’ bathroom.

I felt like I was part of the team, but I definitely had no indication that anyone was supporting me in my instructional strategies other than the time I asked for help ordering a film and someone said to make sure it was relevant to what I was teaching.

The following year, I was moved to a high school resource room, which was a totally different experience! In fact, I was at one high school in the morning and a second high school in the afternoon. I supported my students the best I knew how, but other than a few instructions on a tour of both schools, I wasn’t given much support, and certainly no coaching. In fact, I only found out I was doing a less than stellar job in the spring when my supervisor dropped by and observed one student who was refusing services. She seemed rather upset that I wasn’t forcing him to learn.

What can I say? I was young, inexperienced, and not yet aware of when and how to ask for support.

This pattern continued as I moved next to a residential treatment facility where I taught English Language Arts, social studies and even a little math to a self-contained group of students with severe emotional disturbances. There, I at least had a full-time aide in the room with me– another adult to bear witness to what I was doing. I also had a principal who would meet with me to share new curriculum or updated expectations. I remember one day I was sitting in her office and she was sharing the latest change when I just started crying. She asked me what was wrong, and I had no idea! Looking back, I’m sure I felt overwhelmed and unsupported. I needed someone who would thought-partner with me, who wasn’t so busy that I felt like I was bothering them every time I showed up, who had as part of their job description the mentoring and coaching of teachers.

But that was in the early nineties when we had a surplus of teachers, If I didn’t cut it, they would find someone who could. The pressure was on! I’d better figure it out, or I wouldn’t have a position!

It wasn’t until after a break to stay home with my young children, after I’d earned my Master’s degree, after I’d taught in a couple of community colleges and one public high school, that I landed at Lutheran North in St. Louis. In many ways, LHSN was a pioneer — it was operating with a block schedule, was stocked with Apple products, and even had a projector and SMART board in every classroom. Not only that, they had a dedicated position, the curriculum coordinator, who not only oversaw curriculum adoption and implementation but also had as part of his job description observing teachers and providing objective data on engagement, teaching strategies, and the behavior management of the classroom. In my first year at LHSN, he visited my room several times and provided me with the kind of feedback I’d been looking for: this strategy seemed to work, did you notice that you speak mostly to the right side of the room and the left side disengages, how are you measuring mastery of this skill?

His questions and comments caused me to examine my practice, and when I reflected, I saw small changes I could make that would impact my effectiveness. Inside this model, I grew! Eventually, I became the curriculum coordinator and did my best to provide for other teachers what I had received. The only problem was that in this new position I was on my own again. On his way out the door, the previous curriculum coordinator gave me some pro tips, and I could reach out to him with questions, but I was not observed in my role and did not receive feedback, so I truly don’t know how effective I was or what moves I could’ve made to improve.

After my break from teaching, I re-entered the educational space at Lindamood-Bell, where coaching was the norm. We implemented two very prescribed programs that dramatically improved the reading and comprehension of our students. Parents were paying high dollar for these programs, and if instructors didn’t implement them with fidelity, the results would be less significant. I was regularly mentored in the moment — a mentor would observe my practice and sometimes jump in to model something that needed a tweak. I learned so much in this role! In time, I became a mentor and then a coach for others on my team. One added layer was that I continued to receive support from my supervisor who had held the role before me. She checked my data, followed up on my coaching, and nudged me when I needed to move in a slightly different direction.

You’d be amazed the confidence you gain when you know you are being supported so specifically toward a common goal.

In my interview for the ELA teaching position at Detroit Leadership Academy, when I was 54 years old, the principal looked me right in the eyes and said, “All of our staff members have coaches. How do you feel about having someone in your classroom on a regular schedule providing you with in the moment feedback?”

I think she thought I was going to push back. I mean, I’d been an educator for decades! I can see why she’d think I would resist coaching, but my response was the opposite, “I love it! I’m coming from a culture of coaching, and I am always looking to improve!” I don’t know if she believed me, but over the last four years, she has seen me receive feedback, reflect on my process, and make changes to improve the effectiveness of my teaching over and over again. I have had three coaches in the last four years, each of whom has had a coach to support them as they execute their role. Their coach has had her own coach. This organization believes in investing in the continuous improvement of all of its staff members.

Obviously, I love it.

So, when my coach moved in to the principal’s position over the summer, I applied for her position. I interviewed, shared my experience, answered the questions, and got the job.

So, this fall, I will continue to have a coach, but I will also be supporting eight other teachers in my building. The past two weeks I’ve been learning the tools and bonding with the team who will support me in this new role. I’m a little sad to let go of my seniors, but I will be coaching their new teacher, so I will still have my hand in their learning. And, I’ll have my hand in the learning of students in other classrooms.

Everything about my work at DLA seems to be a culmination of my journey in education. All the threads seem to come together in this space. I look forward to telling you more about it as I move into this next chapter.

He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. Colossians 1: 17

**While my needs are slightly different this year, I do still have a wish list. You can find it here