“Every day may not be good, and there’s something good in every day.” While these words by Alice Morse Earle have been a mantra of mine, they’ve also been words I’ve had to carefully examine. It’s no secret that contributing to the One Good Thing blog every school day for a decade was a practice that sustained and liberated me in the classroom. As I’ve now been on two years of service and have shared about this practice all over the nation, I’ve sat with its meaning time and time again, pulling those thoughts together here.
While I didn’t publicly blog this year, I did privately write one good thing from what became my new “school days”: days with teachers, students, families, advocates, policymakers, district leaders and more. Just like in the classroom, it’s the connections that always stood out, that I tucked in my heart, that sustained me.
As my year of service comes to a close, I want to take a moment to share some of those good things — the moments I noticed and attempted to make more space for them to take root.
Photo Courtesy of NEA
Oklahoma Foundation for Excellence in Norman, OK
One good thing is the principals and school and district leaders who so graciously opened their buildings to me. I’ve heard it said — and I agree — that teachers are the lifeblood of a school. But if we are the lifeblood, then a great leader is the heart: the organ that keeps the blood flowing and gives it oxygen. I think about the leaders at districts such as Kentwood in Michigan, Jeffco in Colorado, Buhler in Kansas, Pelham in New York, Rankin County in Mississippi and so many more. What inspires me about your leadership is you believe that those closest to the students must have the strongest voice. You are adamant about teacher agency, teacher leadership and teacher development. In return, your schools and districts thrive. One of you told me, “We live by two questions: What’s best for kids? And what’s best for teachers?” The way you center student and teacher voice — how you view them in tandem and not as binaries — has become a North Star for me.
May you continue to lead by elevating others.
One good thing is the thousands of high schoolers I’ve interacted with this year who are planning on becoming teachers. Your passion and commitment to belonging reinvigorate my own belief that demography is not destiny. I think about the future teachers at Teach Oklahoma. When I asked you what you want your future classroom to look, feel and sound like, you said: “I want it to be a safe place for every single person who walks through my door, because each life matters, and I want to convey that feeling.” I can’t wait for you to join our collective. May your passion grow and extend its glow on all of us.
One good thing is the attention mathematics education is receiving in our nation. We as adults are realizing that we can’t keep telling our kids that we’re “not math people.” We are starting to understand that math — at its core — is play. And if we can tell our students who claim they don’t like reading: “We just haven’t found you the right book yet,” then we should work to create systems where we can also tell them: “We just haven’t found you the right problem yet.” May we never stop until every child feels they belong in math class.
One good thing is how natural beauty enhances our sense of place. With each state I visited, I did my best to do what the One Good Thing blog taught me: to leave the known, to turn outward to the unknown and to notice. In that noticing, I stood in constant awe of our natural biodiversity: from our waterfalls to our plains to our lakes to our mountains to our oceansides –we are a country with so much to offer each other. May we continue to offer the best of ourselves, to celebrate our differences and to protect the idea that, “We belong to each other,” as Mother Teresa reminded us.
One good thing is my 2023 State Teachers of the Year cohort. I never felt worthy to represent you all, and quite frankly, I never will. Still, being the teachers you are, you believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. Every message you’ve written, every note you’ve sent, I’ve held so close to my heart. Again, it must be the teacher in all of you, because you somehow make me feel both capable in the present and plant a desire in me to continue to grow for the future. I tell new teachers the best thing they can do is to scoot up close to the people who teach like they want to teach, who treat kids with love and dignity and humor and joy. I tell them those teachers will make them a better teacher. How lucky am I that I get to scoot up close to you? You make me not only a better teacher, but a better human. May we keep scooting up close to each other, and may we celebrate our colleagues the way we’ve been celebrated.
One good thing is our 2024 National Teacher of the Year, Missy Testerman, who has spent her life working to create opportunity and access for students in rural Tennessee. Missy is the kind of teacher who sees students like me: students who sometimes feel invisible because they come from another culture or — interestingly — feel like they are too much for the same reason. I can’t wait to watch your journey, Missy. May you continue to live those words that have been etched into our hearts: “Perhaps you were created for such a time as this.”
One good thing is the teachers I’ve been able to share space with this year — in classrooms, conversations or conferences. Just like at school, it’s the small moments with you I’ve treasured the most. When you handed me that coin at Columbine High School, I felt simultaneously humbled and joyful. When you messaged me that your class has started their own One Good Thing, I felt so honored to be able to share that sacred space with you. When you told me you wished your kids’ eyes lit up in algebra class like they do when they’re in theater class, I shed a tear because I want that for my students, too, sister. When you told me your daughter is entering the profession, when you said you weren’t sure you would stay, when you told me there’s nothing else you’d rather do, my heart and mind understood. This is tremendously difficult work. This is tremendously meaningful work. No matter where the road leads, may you enter each space with your whole teacher heart, mind and soul.
As I’ve traveled this year, when someone asks what I do for a living, I proudly say that I’m a teacher. You know what happens next? Almost every single time, the person I’m talking to starts telling me about the teachers who loved them, taught them and changed their trajectories. I tuck these stories in my heart and breathe a thanks for you, my fellow educators. All over this country, people are holding you in their hearts. I have never been prouder to be a teacher — to be part of your collective.
You are my forever good thing.
2023 State Teachers of the Year in Houston, Texas
Rebecka with NTOY Program Director - Sarah Brown Wessling at SxSW in Austin, Texas.
Rebecka with Principal Aimee Crispin and Community Superintendent Mike Freeman of Jeffco Public Schools, Colorado
Thank yous
Special thanks to those who brought me here and who have sustained me this year. Lisa Witcher, this story really started with you. Thank you for seeing that young teacher and believing in her — then and now. Thank you to Union High School for raising me as a teacher and for being a soft place to land. To my students: you are the whole reason I’m here. I love who I am when I’m with you. When I wasn’t sure if I could make it this year, I would always think of our Room 2704.
To the NTOYs who walked ahead of me, on whose shoulders I stand: Kurt, Juliana, Tabatha, Rodney, Mandy — you always knew when to check in. Teachers just know. I’m forever humbled to learn from you.
Thank you to the CCSSO team for all you do for the NTOY Program. Sarah — the big sister I always wanted — thank you for helping me know when it was time to grab a bigger pair of shoes and for tying the laces when I wasn’t sure I could take that first step.
Thank you to our son, Jonas. I know it was hard having me gone so much. It’s not lost on me. You’ve been a champ. One of the greatest gifts from this year is that you say you now want to be a teacher. I’ll never pressure you into sticking to those words, but those words have shown me how important it is for our children to see this profession elevated. I love and admire every molecule of you, sweet boy.
Brett, thank you for putting your entire career on hold so that I could give this job my all without worrying once about what was going on at home. Thank you for listening, for brainstorming, for validating. Thank you for holding both my tears and my laughter. You are a master at creating big, exciting space when I need to jump up and cheer and small, quiet space when I need to decompress.
I may be the teacher in the family, but you are teaching us all what partnership and fatherhood can and should look like. I am my fullest, happiest self when I’m with you and Jonas. Einstein popularized the idea that time is our fourth, hidden dimension. You are my time, Brett, my fourth dimension. Without you, I can’t make sense of the world. With you, I feel I can conquer it.
From the outside, this year probably looks like a story about a teacher.
The truth is, it was — and always will be — a love story.
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