I’m a second-generation teacher, so I’ve been in the field of education all of my life. I can still hear my mom discussing the latest school board meeting or chatting with her teacher friends about grad school homework. While she worked in her office, I was working in our basement. I had created a “daycare” with my stuffed animals and a handful of tables. Each one had a file folder with a daily-log tracking their activities, milestones, and emotions. Whenever my sisters were too busy my parents would play along by checking-in and out the “children.”

By the time I was nine years old, I knew I had the gift to be a teacher- I call it a gift because I couldn’t stop giving it away.

I loved pretending to teach learners in my mom’s classroom, make photocopies she needed, and explore the hallways after school. As long as I can remember, I have been a teacher. First, babysitting my mom’s friends and eagerly teaching them to read. Then I taught gymnastics at my childhood gym. Afterward, I became the Education Director at our local Boys & Girls Club before becoming a classroom teacher.