Want to (actually) change the world: put all of society's focus on energy in creating calm, unstressed mothers.

True wellness is: getting enough protein, walking every day, and being loved well.

My staff have a budget to spend on wellness each month. It could be their gym membership, meditation apps, massages, whatever they want. I just got receipts from one girl and she’s used part of her budget to go to the zoo and feed the animals. $120 on goat pellets. I love her.

the best way to encourage students to resist the temptation of ChatGPT is to help them feel like real writers & take pride in their voice. I tell my students to start writing “morning pages”—three handwritten pages on anything they want to write about. I tell them to transcribe themselves talking on the phone about their paper ideas to someone. I tell them to read their work out loud & hear how they sound—& if they like how they sound. I tell them to pick unique sign offs for emails (down with “Best”). I tell them to read their social media posts & text messages & to analyze them for voice—their tone, their use of internal punctuation, their humor. I encourage them instead of police them. I make a case for writing as an art they should try to master.

The homeowner saw on the security camera that a bear was playing on the outdoor swing every day, but couldn't get on. So he had a bigger swing built, and this was the result.

A message from a Kindergarten teacher: After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old: “My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.” No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.” My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me. When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic. But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe. My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown. And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice. They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer. The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.” As if kindness were a weakness. Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure — a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.” a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.” a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.” Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up. But this last year broke something in me. The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival. I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times. So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998: “Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.” I sat on the floor and cried. No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications. I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced. I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers. So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try. Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.

No spreadsheet shows it.
But broken trust? That’s the leak draining your ROI. Trust is infrastructure.
It’s culture capital.
If you’re not building it, you’re breaking it. Where’s trust quietly costing you—turnover, disengagement, missed opportunity?

The photo you’ve all been waiting for... Welcome home, Dukes! 💜💛

Mark Your Calendars! 🗓️ Friday, August 1 🕘 9:00 AM 💻 Virtual Meeting Enrollment Numbers Open House Reminders Supply List Highlights Importance of School/PTA Fundraisers Tryout Process for Clubs 1st Day of School Reminders

A recent ASCD article, The Story We’re Not Telling About School Leaders by Edward Owusu, shared by Todd Whitaker, inspired me this morning. It’s a powerful reminder that while the challenges are real, the solutions are within reach, if we choose to value, invest in, and uplift those doing the work. The pressure on principals today is real, and it comes at a cost. When school leaders burn out or leave, entire communities feel the impact. In Montgomery County, Maryland, nearly 135 schools have had leadership changes over the last five years. Just last year, 20% of schools had a new principal. That kind of turnover disrupts relationships, slows progress, and shakes the foundation of trust. It’s not just about leaving. Even those who stay face mounting public scrutiny. When something goes wrong, a fight, a policy backlash, a curriculum disagreement, or an upset parent, the principal is often the first to be blamed. But it doesn’t have to be this way! When principals/school leaders are supported, schools thrive. Having just completed my 18th year as a principal, here is what that support can and should look like: •Dedicated coaching and mentorship for every principal—not just in their first year, but throughout their career. •Additional assistant principals or deans to share the burden of discipline, operations, and student support. •Protected time for instructional leadership—free from constant meetings, supervision, and non-stop crisis management. •Access to mental health resources for principals themselves—not just for students and staff. •School boards and district leaders publicly backing principals when they follow policy and act in the best interest of students. And support doesn’t always have to come from policy or budgets. Some say leadership is a thankless job, but it doesn’t have to be. A simple “I see you,” a quick note of appreciation, or a moment of public recognition can go a long way. Everyone needs to feel valued, and that includes our principals. I’ve seen this firsthand in our school district, in surrounding districts, and even in my own experience. There have been moments when I’ve sat on the edge of the couch and questioned whether I could keep doing this job. That’s why we need to support one another. Leadership shouldn’t be isolating, it should be a community. And if you’re in need of a spark, a reminder of your purpose, or just a boost, check out The Interview Chair podcast by Jimmy Casas. It’s a great way to revive and relight the fire that brought many of us to this work in the first place. jimmycasas.com/theinterviewc… We have to change the narrative. Principals are not the problem. They are the foundation. Let’s stop asking who to blame and start asking how we can better support the people leading our schools every day. Because when we lose our leaders, we lose the heartbeat of our schools. @ToddWhitaker @casas_jimmy @ASCD #recalibrate #culturize #TheInterviewChair

So parents have time to prepare: May 5th through May 9th ins National Teacher Appreciation Week. Please get a gift card for each of your child’s teachers. $5-$10 is fine because if every student does it they’ll have a nice stack of cards to use. Teachers do NOT need candles, chocolate, or mugs.

Started the morning on this ⁦@SpotsySchools⁩ Superintendent Saturday Community Journey @ Harrison Road ES Half Mile Run. #WeAreSpotsy