From Meme to Milestone: Day 67 at Heritage

Today marks my final day of student teaching—and fittingly, it also happens to be the 67th school day. Across schools everywhere, the number 67 has become a running joke, a meme, a little craze that students and teachers alike have embraced. For me, though, the number 67 will always carry a deeper meaning. Out of 70 total days in this placement—including four pre-service days at the start and one day I missed in October for my Emory appointment—67 were spent in the classroom, learning, teaching, and growing alongside the Heritage community.

When I first learned I’d be placed at Heritage, I’ll admit it wasn’t in my top two choices. In fact, I had my heart set on one particular school. But a wise principal encouraged me to broaden my horizons and try something new—specifically, to step into the high school world. Up to that point, my experience at that level was limited to just observation hours. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and I wondered if I’d be ready.

Looking back now, I am so glad that Heritage is where I ended up. This placement turned out to be a real success. The students, staff, and community here have given me experiences I never could have imagined, and they’ve shaped me in ways that will stay with me long after graduation. I’ve learned not only about teaching content but also about building relationships, fostering engagement, and finding joy in the daily rhythms of school life—even in something as quirky as the number 67.

No reflection on these 67 school days would be complete without mentioning the people who walked alongside me. My mentor, Mr. Ethan Dempsey, has been a steady guide and source of encouragement throughout this journey. His wisdom, patience, and example have shaped not only my teaching practice but also my vision for the kind of educator I hope to become. I hit a grand slam with him—not just because of his expertise, but because of the way he treated me as a true colleague. He never relegated me to menial tasks like making copies or sitting on the sidelines. Instead, he invited me into the heart of the classroom, trusted me with meaningful responsibilities, and gave me space to grow. He offered feedback with care, modeled professionalism with humility, and made sure I felt both challenged and supported. His mentorship has left a lasting imprint, and I’ll carry his example with me into every classroom I enter.

The entire Social Studies department welcomed me as one of their own, offering advice, resources, and camaraderie that made each day richer. Beyond that, the entire faculty, staff, and administration at Heritage High School created an environment where I felt supported and valued. Their professionalism and kindness set the tone for the school, and I am grateful to have learned in such a collaborative community. My GCU Faculty Supervisor, Mr. C.L. Dunn, was very helpful as well. He had some great feedback after observing me during my four observation evaluations.

And of course, the students—nearly all respectful, mostly engaged, and often inspiring—reminded me daily why this work matters. They brought energy, curiosity, and humor into the classroom, and they challenged me to grow as both a teacher and a person.

Tomorrow I’ll finish my online student teaching course, and with it, my M.Ed in Secondary Education. I’ll graduate with a GPA of 3.83, but more importantly, with gratitude for the people and places that made this journey possible. Heritage wasn’t the plan I thought I wanted, but it was exactly the placement I needed.As I move forward, I’ll carry with me the lessons of these 67 school days: that growth often comes when we step outside our comfort zone, that laughter and community matter as much as curriculum, and that sometimes the best opportunities are the ones we didn’t expect.

Alexander Hamilton holding a 67 Number Balloon.

Two Years, One Month, and a Whole Lot of Gratitude

Today is graduation day. At 1:00 PM Eastern (10:00 AM local time), Grand Canyon University will hold its ceremony in Phoenix, Arizona, to honor those completing their degrees—including me. I won’t be there in person. I’ll be in Ringgold, Georgia, still in the classroom, still student teaching, still learning. And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

This moment marks the completion of my Master’s in Secondary Education—a journey that started on October 19, 2023. Two years ago this Sunday, I took my first steps into graduate school. Two years and one month later, I’m finishing strong with a 96 in my final course as we enter week 11 of 15. My last day of student teaching is November 18, and my final online class concludes the very next day.

It’s difficult to find words for how meaningful this student teaching experience has been. I hit a home run with my mentor teacher—his patience, guidance, and willingness to show me the ropes have made all the difference. Heritage High School has been a perfect fit. The teachers, administrators, and staff have welcomed me with open arms. I’ve felt seen, supported, and encouraged every step of the way. I know I’ll miss it deeply when I finish next month.

When I started this journey, I was working in an elementary school. Last year, I spent a full year substitute teaching at a middle school, and I loved it. I thought maybe middle school was my calling. But a wise principal encouraged me to try high school too—to expand my experience before making a decision. I’m so glad I listened. Now, having taught at both levels, I can honestly say I enjoy working with both age groups. And while the final decision may come down to where a job opens up, I feel fortunate to be versatile and prepared.

Once student teaching ends, I’ll finish in the middle of the school year, which means I can keep substitute teaching at either level while I wait for a full-time opportunity. That flexibility is a gift, and I’m grateful for it.

This story isn’t just about earning a degree. It’s about the people who made it happen—the mentors, principals, students, and colleagues who helped me grow. It’s about the quiet moments of doubt and the louder moments of joy. It’s about showing up, day after day, and learning to teach with both heart and humility.

Thanks for walking with me on this journey. Graduation may be happening in Phoenix today, but the real celebration is right here—in the classroom, with the students, and in the steady rhythm of growth.

Almost a Teacher: Why I Went Back to School at 45

In October 2023, I did something unexpected—I enrolled in a graduate program, 21 years after earning my undergraduate degree. Now, as I wrap up the final stretch—student teaching this fall and graduation on the horizon—I’ve found myself reflecting not just on the journey, but on why I started it in the first place.

The decision wasn’t sudden. It developed over time into a slow-burning conviction, rooted in something I’ve carried for most of my life: a deep love for history and social studies. That spark, I can trace all the way back to seventh grade.

Mr. England was the first teacher who truly inspired me. He introduced me to the Model U.N. program. As junior high students (not yet called middle school), we couldn’t participate directly, but we could serve as pages for the high schoolers. Even then, I was drawn to the idea of diplomacy, critical thinking, and global awareness. That experience planted a seed.

Later, in high school, that spark caught fire. Mr. Touchberry, my honors world history teacher, didn’t just teach a subject—he lived it. His enthusiasm was contagious, and it made the past feel alive. I continued with Model U.N. under his mentorship—not just because of the content, but because of the atmosphere he created: one of curiosity, seriousness, and respect. I didn’t know it then, but the way he taught would become a quiet blueprint in the back of my mind.

Those classrooms shaped me. They didn’t just inform my interests—they revealed what good teaching could be. And now, two decades later, I’m preparing to step into that same role.

Going back to school in my mid-40s wasn’t the easiest decision. I was 45 when I started, balancing family, work, and life—all while re-learning how to be a student again. But it felt right. It felt like finally answering a call I’d heard years ago.

Now that my coursework is complete, student teaching is the final step. I received an invitation to attend the graduation ceremony in Phoenix this October—Grand Canyon University’s big in-person celebration. I may not be able to make the trip from Georgia, but that’s okay. The real celebration will be standing at the front of a classroom, sharing the subject I love with students who might discover that same spark.

I know the challenges ahead. Teachers are leaving the profession in record numbers, and I’m entering it with my eyes wide open. But maybe that’s exactly why I’m choosing it now. Because students still need guides who believe in history—not just the facts, but the stories, the lessons, the connections—and who believe in them.

Starting a new career at this point in life isn’t about catching up. It’s about showing up. It’s about using everything I’ve learned—not just from books, but from life—and offering it to the next generation.

So, if you’re reading this and wondering if it’s too late to begin again, let me say this: it’s not. Whether you’re 25 or 55, there is no expiration date on purpose. There is no deadline on becoming who you’re meant to be. The only thing that’s too late is never trying at all.

As for me, I may be starting this chapter later than most—but I’m ready. And I can’t wait to see where it leads.