After 34 years of teaching, there are a few things I wish I could tell the version of me who was just getting started.
She had plenty of enthusiasm. What she didn’t have yet was perspective.
Here’s what I’d want her to know:
Trust your gut.
It’s usually pointing you in the right direction, even when the decision is unpopular. Listen to others, be willing to learn, and trust yourself enough to make the call.
You can care deeply and still disappoint someone.
A student. A parent. A colleague. Their disappointment doesn’t automatically mean you made the wrong decision. You cannot measure your effectiveness by whether everyone is happy with you.
Keep your inner circle small.
Be kind to everyone, but be thoughtful about who gets your confidence. Not everyone who supports you in the room will have your back when you leave it. Let trust grow over time.
Build vendor relationships wisely.
Be friendly, appreciative, and professional. Ask questions. Get expectations in writing. These relationships matter, and so does remembering that you are responsible for how your program’s money is spent.
Get to know the school custodian.
There’s a good chance you’re both in the building long after everyone else has gone home. Learn their name. Ask about their family. Appreciate the work they do. They may become one of your greatest friends and allies.
The same approach won’t work for every student.
Some need a push. Some need reassurance. Some need you to notice that today is harder than usual. Learning who they are is part of teaching them.

You’ll remember ordinary rehearsals as clearly as the awards.
The breakthrough after weeks of trying. The ridiculous thing someone said when everyone was exhausted. The moment a team finally found its confidence. Pay attention. Those are memories, too.
You won’t always get to see the difference you made.
Sometimes you’ll hear about it years later. Sometimes you won’t hear about it at all. Keep showing up with care and intention.

Photo courtesy – Seven Lakes Band Boosters
Build something you enjoy being part of, too.
Your experience matters. You’re allowed to have boundaries, try something new, and find joy in the program you’ve worked so hard to build.
You’ll teach color guard, but you’ll spend a lot of time helping people grow up.
Including yourself.
I still love a beautiful flag moment and a great performance. But the longer I do this, the more I treasure the people I’ve gotten to know along the way.
There’s no way that day-one version of me could have understood how much they would mean to her.

