“What the heck is a learning coach?”
That was, without a doubt, my first thought when I saw the job posting in the spring of 2022. The title sounded a little made up, and honestly, I wasn’t totally sure what the job even was. But I applied anyway.
Four years later, I can say it changed me completely.
As I prepare to head back into the classroom next year, I find myself carrying an overwhelming amount of gratitude for everything this role taught me, the people it brought into my life, and the ways it reshaped how I think about teaching and learning.
Here are a few things swirling around in my brain as I wrap up this journey and prepare to be back in the game.
1. Students need a ridiculous amount of grace for their dead Chromebooks. Seriously. Those things barely hold a charge, there aren’t enough outlets, and there’s never enough time between classes to get them plugged in. I don’t think I’ve made it to lunch once this year without my own teacher Chromebook dying. I will never get frustrated with a student over a dead Chromebook again. That battle is real.
For me? I am so ready to ditch them all together. More human interactions. More paper. More whiteboards. More books. More talking. More laughing.
2. Routine, structure, and predictability are the secret sauce of classroom management. The teachers whose classrooms run like a well-oiled machine are not getting that kind of success by accident. Every single thing has a flow and a system behind it. How papers are handed out. How phones are managed. How students move into groups. How transitions happen. What group work sounds like. What students do when they finish early. The more I observed great teachers, the more I realized that strong classroom management is less about “controlling the behavior kids” and more about removing uncertainty for all kids. Behaviors escalate when students don’t know what to do, how to do it, or what’s expected of them. The best classrooms feel calm because the routines carry so much of the cognitive load for students.
3. Time spent anchoring students into your classroom and helping bring their minds and bodies to attention at the start of class is time well spent. School feels frantic, and I had forgotten that. Students are rushing from class to class, conversation to conversation, carrying stress, distractions, social drama, exhaustion, and a million other things with them. Honestly, even as a learning coach, moving from room to room all day felt overwhelming at times. And if I had to squeeze in a bathroom break between classes? Forget it. Walking into the next classroom and immediately being fully present was hard.
That experience changed how I think about the start of class. Opening routines, bell work, transition time, and moments to mentally prepare to learn are not wasted time. They are essential. If students are not sitting down immediately ready to work, it doesn’t always mean they are unmotivated or disrespectful. Sometimes they just need help arriving in your space. The best teachers in our building don’t just expect students to show up ready. They help students prepare to learn.
4. A few years ago, before I stepped into this role, a colleague once told me they were “an educator, not an entertainer.” I think it was meant to be a little passive aggressive because I have never exactly hidden my entertainer tendencies in the classroom. I like to have fun, ok? And to be fair, I understand the point they were trying to make. Teaching is obviously much deeper than putting on a show. But this job has changed my thinking on that phrase.
Some of the most admired, impactful teachers in our building absolutely are entertainers in their own way. Not because they are doing a constant dog-and-pony show or trying to be funny every second of the day, but because they are captivating. They are passionate. They still genuinely love what they teach, and students can feel it. Watching someone teach content they care deeply about is magnetic. You can’t help but pay attention to people who are fully alive in what they are teaching. Ya'll... passion is contagious. Watching Mrs. Rue talk about gerrymandering or Mr. Schisel go off about trophic pyramids is the definition of watching someone IN THEIR ELEMENT. When we lose our love of what we teach, we lose the room.
5. Grading is so spicy. Like, ghost pepper spicy.
6. The best professional development exists within our own buildings. There is no training, no book, no external resource or researcher more powerful than the collective knowledge and experience already sitting in a staff. The expertise is already there and constantly being refined in real classrooms with real students every single dang day.
And yet we are rarely given enough time or space to truly capitalize on that resource. We talk a lot about collaboration, but meaningful collaboration takes more than a quick meeting or a packed agenda that we frantically try to rush through once a week. It takes time to listen, time to watch each other teach, and time to think together about what actually works for students. We really don’t need to spend more money on any more programs or experts. We need more access to each other.
And finally... Public schools matter. This job reminds me of that over and over again. There is something incredibly powerful about all kinds of kids learning alongside one another every single day. Different backgrounds, beliefs, abilities, cultures, personalities, and life experiences all sharing the same space, learning how to exist in a community together. That matters big time.
And even if public school is not the path someone chooses for their own child, we should all still be invested in the success of public education because, eventually, all of our kids enter the same world together. Your homeschooled child will work alongside, work for, hire, supervise, vote next to, and be cared for by students who came through public schools. Public school students, private school students, and homeschool students will become nurses, mechanics, teachers, business owners, engineers, and elected officials. They will all shape the communities we live in. The future any of us want for our own children depends, in part, on the education and opportunities available to everyone else’s children too.
Public education is not just about individual kids. It is about the kind of society we are building together and on a small scale I see a micro version of that society existing at my high school every day. It humbles you. It inspires you. And it changes you. I genuinely feel sad for people who never get the chance to see the beauty of that up close. I wish everyone could spend a week inside a public school and witness it for themselves. Because despite all its flaws and challenges, there is still something deeply hopeful about what happens inside these walls every day.
I could not be more excited to step back into the classroom next year, bringing a renewed sense of purpose and passion to this profession.
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