Dear J, G, N, S, M, N, E, F
When I first started down the path of education, it wasn’t because I had a passion for teaching or a plan for a career. It was because I had you. I wanted to be more present. I wanted to create something different—an environment that truly honored who you were, how you learned, and what you needed to thrive. You were the reason I began asking better questions about how we grow, how we learn, and how we live together. Even as a young mother those 40 years ago, that desire was there—as a seed that grew into my life’s work.
You’ve been my mirror. You showed me my blind spots. You called me out. You helped me see where I clung too tightly to control, where I acted out of habit or exhaustion. There were so many moments I didn’t live up to my own values. My only regret is that I wish I could have shared my growth as a human and educator, learned over decades, not only with the youngest of you but all of you.
Because of you, I grew. You taught me to listen. To slow down. To notice what was underneath the behavior. You taught me that real teaching and parenting isn’t about correcting—it’s about connecting.
That being in relationship, especially during the hard moments, is what actually changes us.
I became a better teacher because of you. A better mother. A more honest human being.
Whatever I’ve shared with others in my work, whatever clarity I’ve offered in the world—it all began with you.
Thank you for your questions, your resistance, your forgiveness. I carry your lessons with me every single moment.
This virtual space carries many of the lessons I’ve learned—the sticky spots, the idealism—as a gift to those reading.
With all my love, Mom, Momma, Mommy, Rebecca, Mama