Why This Book Had to Be Written

I'm updating lesson plans at my kitchen table at 9:30 PM on a Tuesday, switching between my computer science curriculum and business information management materials, and my phone keeps buzzing.

Text from my colleague down the hall: "Did you see the email about the new data tracking system? I can't do one more thing."

Message from a teacher friend in Arizona: "I love my kids, but I'm drowning. Everything feels impossible right now."

DM from someone who read Volume I: "Your book was the first thing that made me feel less crazy. When's the next one coming?"

And then there's the one that stopped me cold: "I used to believe teaching could change the world. Now I just want to make it through the day."

That's when I knew Volume II had to happen.

Not because we need another education book. My own school library is full of those, gathering dust while passionate teachers question whether they still have what it takes. Not because I figured out some magic solution. I'm still figuring it out myself, one day at a time in my computer lab, working with kids who need someone to believe in their potential.

I wrote it because we're forgetting the conversations that matter most.

While everyone talks about data and initiatives, we're not talking about what actually sustains the people called to this work.

Here's what I know after 30-plus years: We're in the relationship business. Every day, we're building connections that change lives. Our students aren't problems to solve—they're the reason we do this work. And like every relationship that matters, success comes when we remember what we're really here for: helping young people discover who they're meant to become.

But somewhere along the way, we started measuring everything except what matters most.

I see it every day in my building. Teachers who understand that relationships come first, getting buried under requirements that pull them away from what they do best. I watch my computer science and business students light up when they master something that builds their confidence, then see that excitement drain when we shift focus back to whatever metric someone decided was important this month.

Here's what I've learned: You're not crazy. You're not failing. You understand that this is about human connection, and you're frustrated because sometimes it feels like the system has forgotten that's what changes lives.

Volume II is the conversation I wish we could have during our 22-minute lunch break. It's what I want to tell every teacher who remembers why they got into this calling and every principal who wants to support their people in actually reaching kids.

Over the next six weeks, I'm going to share the conversations we need to have but aren't. Not because I have it all figured out—I don't. I'm still learning how to reach every student while navigating demands that sometimes feel disconnected from why we're really here.

We need to talk about what genuine partnership with parents looks like when we remember we're all invested in the same young people. We need to explore how our leaders can protect what matters most while managing everything else. We need to validate what every teacher knows deep down—that the relationships we build and the moments of breakthrough still happen, even when they're harder to measure.

This isn't another book promising to fix everything. This is about remembering what we're actually called to do. It's about the conversations that happen after the kids leave, when we're honest about what reaching them really looks like.

Some of you will read this and think, "Finally, someone remembers what this is actually about." Others might wonder what a computer science teacher understands about your particular challenges. Fair enough. But here's what I know: Whether I'm teaching kids to code or helping them understand business principles, I'm building relationships that matter. Just like you are in your classroom, in your own way.

And that calling to make a difference? It still matters. It still changes lives. Even when everything around us seems to forget that's what we're here for.

The conversations we're having over the next six weeks aren't comfortable ones. They're necessary ones. They're about remembering who we serve and why that connection matters more than any system will ever measure.

Those small wins you celebrated in Volume I? They're still happening. The presence that matters more than position? Still true. The quiet difference-makers breaking up fallow ground? That's still you, even on the hardest days.

Next week, we're starting with the conversation everyone's thinking about but no one wants to have honestly: What real partnership with parents looks like when we remember we're all invested in the same kids.

You ready to rediscover what you already know matters most?

Find more resources and join the conversation at WeAreAcademicAllies.com.