I love working in Elementary Schools even though that is not where my career started. I was a Middle School/Secondary person who really wanted to teach Middle/High Social Studies and English. I worked in secondary school for the first six years of my educational journey, then when I moved to Maryland, I got my first taste of working with second graders. The story of that journey is quite comical, so I’ll give you a brief synopsis. I went to Maryland to interview for a music position at a K-8 public charter school. In Maryland, the charter schools are authorizers while the state maintains control of employment and benefits, paying the charter schools a 12% fee of the schools per pupil allocation. I went in and killed my interview and they offered me a job on the spot, but I had to do a second stage in the process and interview with the performing arts department with the district. I had to sight read, play piano, and do a 6 minute mini lesson. Baby, when I tell you I bombed that. I am not a piano player and I have not sight read since college in my keyboarding and ear training classes, so even though I had received an offer from the school, I was not allowed to continue the process and I was devastated. The principal called me and asked me to come in. I walked in the office and she explained to me the results and asked me one question. “Don’t you wanna teach 2nd grade reading instead?” I looked at her puzzled, and she proceeded to fill out a new hire form and contract for the position. “Take this to HR and they will give you a start date. Welcome to the Imagine Lincoln family.” I was literally shocked and went to HR. I left there with my fingerprints done, salary information, benefits signup, and a start date; all within 30 minutes. I stayed in elementary for the next 6 years before transitioning into secondary leadership for 2 years, but I ended right back in elementary. 

One of the schools I worked for had a wonderful tradition for staff who left at the end of the year. We had a ceremony and your supervisor would choose a children’s book that made them think of you and give a speech. I was at the school for 2 years, most of which was during the pandemic, but I ended up leaving because I got an offer to become a principal. The book my wonderful boss Caroline chose for me was Extra Yarn. It was a book I had never read before, but when I received the book, and heard her heartfelt sentiments, it seemed to be the perfect match. With everything I’ve experienced in the last couple of months, I found myself picking the book up again when I transitioned into my new role in the Superintendent’s Office. I read it and I immediately reached out to her. It was a much needed reminder for me. 

It’s crazy how the simplicity of children’s literature can have such an amazing impact on specific moments in our lives. Extra Yarn by Mac Barnett (illustrated by Jon Klassen) is a beautiful sentiment about a little girl who lives in a town that is extremely monochromatic. Everything is literally black and white, from the homes to the snow covered ground, and even the people and animals. One day, this little girl finds a box of colorful yarn and decides to knit herself a sweater. It was the most beautiful colorful thing anyone had ever seen, and she had extra yarn, so she made one for her dog and she still had more. She made one for a friend as she walked by him and for his dog. She made sweaters for the forest animals, then her classmates when she went to school the next day and her teacher. It seemed the yarn was limitless. Soon, she had made a sweater for everyone in the town, except for the one person who wanted a hat. Pretty soon she was making sweaters for inanimate objects like houses, trucks, and mailboxes. Before anyone knew it, the entire town that used to be black and white, was covered in magnificent color and it made a difference. News spread and people came from afar to see this little girl and her magical yarn. A wealthy man came and asked to buy the yarn, offering her large sums of money, but she refused to sell it. So, he had someone come back and steal it that night and he took it back with him, but to his surprise, there was no yarn for him. He tossed it out of his window into the sea, cursing the little girl to never know happiness again, but the box made its way back to her. As soon as it reached her and she opened it, yarn appeared and in the end, it turned out that she was very happy once again. It is not hard to find the messages in this book, but it served as a reminder to me of things that I needed to place back in front of me. 

The first message that I got from this story is the gift and curse of having “extra yarn.” By nature, I have always been a giver and been willing to share whatever I have. Sharing of yourself and your talents can be so rewarding, but it can be exhausting as well. I had to learn a balance between trying to save everyone who I thought needed me, and taking time to replenish my yarn. That balance took me years to find. We’ve all heard the saying that you can’t pour from an empty cup, and taking the time to care for our minds and bodies gives us the space to refill. There is also the lesson that everyone doesn’t deserve your yarn. We often go out of our way to care for people who wouldn’t show up if we needed them. We must protect ourselves from those with bad intentions, which means shoring up our boundaries with those around us and regaining control of how we use our gifts. If we use our gifts for people who don’t deserve them, we find ourselves falling short when those who really love and care for us, need us the most. I fought with myself for years thinking that the only value I had was found in my “yarn,” until I worked to find the actual value of my humanity and the joy I contributed to the world. It’s a delicate balance. 

The other message I got spoke the loudest to me. Your gifts and talents cannot be duplicated, replicated, or stolen for use by someone else. The things that make you uniquely you only work when you possess them. When the wealthy man came to buy her box of yarn, he recognized that the thing she possessed was very valuable and her not being willing to sell it made it invaluable, which made him want it more. He offered more and more money and when that didn’t entice her, he stole it from her, only to realize that the box yielded no yarn for him; only for her. Your gifts and talents can take you far, and there are people in the world who are jealous of what you have. The voices of those who envy you usually stick out the loudest and can drown out the voices of those who seek to encourage you. People with malicious intent work hard to tear you down and essentially steal your gifts, talents, and even your voice from you, but it is up to us to recognize the gifts we have and stand firm in the knowledge that our voices are our most important gift. People will try to silence you in order to get you to conceal your gifts from the world, but be confident. Your gifts and talents make this world a more beautiful and colorful place. 

You know, I used to suffer from imposter syndrome very heavily and I gained two different perspectives from my time in dealing with it. The first perspective views imposter syndrome in a very negative lens as a hindrance that keeps us from understanding and attaining our true potential. I had dinner with a friend of mine this week and he always encourages me to take up space because I’ve earned my seat. It wasn’t gifted to me out of pity, but bestowed upon me because I earned it in a very real way, which is indeed true. You are in spaces because you are supposed to be there. Your gifts and talents make room for you in spaces that you may have never seen yourself in. In contrast to that, I recently read a perspective that talks about the necessity of imposter syndrome. It’s a natural response to growing. When we take a position with a learning curve or we try a new thing, it’s natural to feel out of place. I try new recipes all the time, with ingredients I’ve never used before. They don’t always work, and when they don’t, I remember what I did before so I can self-correct. That doesn’t make me a bad cook, but it provides me with an opportunity to learn. The point of it all is that regardless of where you find yourself on this spectrum, make sure to never let go of your gifts. I’ll always have extra yarn because I’ll need it for my journey, and though there are people who purposely try to take it away, it has always been mine, and it will always be mine. Protect your gifts. No one will ever be able to do things like you do it, which is why you are necessary and still here. You’ll find your place. You’ll find your way. I’m still finding mine, with my gifts leading the way.