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Turning a vision into reality can often feel like an uphill battle, but through the collective efforts of Dr. J.R. Green, the Fairfield County School District Education Foundation, and a dedicated team of partners, that vision has taken shape in a profound way. With careful planning, persistence, and a shared belief in supporting educators, an idea became something tangible. In August 2024, the first 16 educators of FCSD stepped into a milestone moment—moving into the newly established Village for Educators, a community designed to support those shaping the next generation.

For me, the experience of moving into a brand-new home is both exhilarating and transformative. It’s more than just a change of address—it’s a fresh start, a renewed sense of belonging, and a space to grow. As someone who thrives on community, adaptation, and lifelong learning, I see this transition as an extension of the very principles I teach my students: embrace change, build relationships, and continue learning. Settling into a new home is not just about unpacking boxes—it’s about redefining what it means to live, work, and connect in a place intentionally built for educators.

Inside these walls, my home is a personal sanctuary, a space where I can recharge after long days in the classroom. It’s where I reflect, plan, and find balance between my professional and personal life. Every corner of my house carries possibility—the potential for comfort, creativity, and peace. The ability to shape a space that nurtures both productivity and relaxation is invaluable, especially in a career as demanding as teaching. Coming home to a place that feels truly mine enhances my well-being and allows me to be fully present for my students each day.

Beyond the walls of my home lies something just as powerful—a community of educators walking the same journey. In this village, I am surrounded by peers who understand the long hours, the triumphs and struggles, and the deep commitment it takes to be an educator. This shared experience fosters a sense of connection that extends beyond our classrooms and into our daily lives. Whether it’s gathering for neighborhood meetings, collaborating on new teaching strategies over coffee, or simply sharing words of encouragement at the end of a tough day, the relationships built here are a testament to the power of community.

Of course, any transition comes with its challenges—adjusting to a new space, building new routines, and learning the rhythms of a new neighborhood. With those challenges come even greater rewards: a renewed sense of purpose, an opportunity for growth, and the chance to be part of something bigger than myself. Just as I guide my students to embrace change with curiosity and resilience, I remind myself to do the same.

Living in the Village for Educators is more than just having a place to call home—it’s about being part of a movement that values, supports, and uplifts teachers. It’s about reimagining what it means to live and work in a community that understands the heart of education. And, like every journey in learning, this is just the beginning.

Career transitions are never easy, especially when leaving a stable, well-paying field for something completely different. My journey from computer science to early childhood education was filled with uncertainty, challenges, and moments of doubt. Ultimately, it led me exactly where I was meant to be—back home in Fairfield County, teaching in my community and living among fellow educators who understand the joys and struggles of this profession.

I began my career in computer science, drawn to the logic and problem-solving aspects of the field. I loved the structure, the challenge of writing clean, efficient code, and the sense of accomplishment when a program ran flawlessly. But over time, something felt missing.

My work, while intellectually stimulating, lacked a personal connection. I wanted to do something directly impacting people’s lives and feel meaningful beyond a screen. That’s when I started considering teaching.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that education was calling me in a way that technology never had.

So, I took a leap of faith and returned to school, earning my Master of Arts in Teaching (MAT) in Early Childhood Education. With my MAT in hand, I was eager to start my teaching career. I began working in the Head Start program, first in Charleston County and then in Berkeley County, South Carolina. I was excited and optimistic, ready to bring energy and passion into the classroom. However, the reality of the job quickly set in. Teaching in Head Start was overwhelming. The demands were intense—not just academically but socially and emotionally. Many of my students came from difficult home situations, and I found myself navigating a complex web of social services, behavioral challenges, and administrative requirements. I loved my students but felt disconnected from the joy of teaching. Instead of feeling fulfilled, I questioned whether I had made a mistake. Had I left one career I didn’t love, only to step into another that wasn’t the right fit either?

After a few difficult years, I returned to my hometown in Fairfield County. It was a homecoming in more ways than one—physically, emotionally, and professionally. I felt something different when I stepped into my new classroom. For the first time, I truly belonged. The school welcomed me with open arms, and the sense of community was immediate.

I wasn’t just another teacher—I was someone returning to give back to the place that had shaped me.

What made this transition even more special was discovering a community of fellow educators who lived and worked alongside me. Many of my neighbors were teachers—people who understood the exhaustion, the long nights of grading, and the emotional investment that comes with shaping young minds.

The mornings in my neighborhood began with familiar sounds—teachers loading their bags into cars, the hum of school buses, and waves exchanged between colleagues heading to their respective schools. In the afternoons, you might see a group of us unwinding at a local coffee shop, discussing ways to engage students, or sharing a laugh about the funny things kids say. Outside school, I ran into students and their families at the grocery store, the park, and community events.

While teaching never truly stops, it no longer feels like a burden. Instead, it feels like being part of something bigger—a network of educators and families all working together to shape the next generation.

After six years of teaching, I made another major transition—moving into the Teacher Village, a community designed specifically for educators in Fairfield County. The most immediate benefit was the drastic reduction in my commute. My hour-long drive shrank to five minutes, gifting me back time and energy I didn’t realize I was missing. With those extra moments, I could start my mornings without the stress of traffic and return home with the capacity to plan lessons, pursue professional development, or simply recharge. But beyond convenience, living in a community made up entirely of educators has been an experience like no other.

There’s an unspoken understanding among us—we all know the demands of the job, the long hours, and the emotional investment it requires. I don’t have to look far if I need help brainstorming a lesson idea or venting about a tough day.

The atmosphere here is different from any other neighborhood I’ve lived in. Instead of small talk about the weather, our conversations naturally turn to classroom successes, new teaching strategies, or ways to support our students better. There’s a shared sense of purpose—everyone here is committed to education, and that energy is contagious.

Living in the Teacher Village has made teaching feel less isolating. I feel more supported, inspired, and connected to the larger mission of education.

It’s a place where work and home blend seamlessly—not in a way that overwhelms but in a way that reinforces the passion we all have for our students.

Looking back, I don’t regret my time in computer science or my early struggles in education. Every step of my journey has taught me something valuable. My tech background gave me problem-solving skills that I use daily in the classroom—my challenging years in Head Start taught me resilience and patience. My return to Fairfield County has shown me the power of community, support, and finding the right environment to thrive. Now, I wake up excited to go to work. I see my students growing, learning, and discovering their strengths. I see familiar faces at school, in my neighborhood, and all around town, reinforcing my deep connection to this place.

Sometimes, life has a way of bringing us full circle. I found purpose right where I started—back home.

Teaching has been at the heart of my life for over fifty years. From my early days as a special education teacher in Pennsylvania to my time as a professor at Winthrop University in Rock Hill, South Carolina, my passion has always been rooted in identifying student needs and finding ways to meet them.

Growing up in a military family, I experienced firsthand the challenges of an inconsistent education. In the 1950s, schools near the Norfolk Naval Base were overcrowded, and I attended school for only three hours a day. When my family moved to Pennsylvania, I found myself academically behind and struggling to adjust. To make matters worse, my teacher forced me to write with my non-dominant hand, making me feel even more out of place. I hated school. I felt stupid. But my mother refused to let me fall through the cracks—she tutored me daily, pushing me to catch up and believe in myself. Looking back, I now see how that experience shaped my path into special education. I understood what it felt like to need a teacher who truly saw you, who believed in your potential even when you doubted yourself.

That sense of purpose carried me through seven years of teaching special education in public schools, then through my doctoral studies at the University of South Carolina, and finally into a long and fulfilling career at Winthrop University. There, I didn’t just teach future educators—I built programs that connected students, teachers, and communities meaningfully.

One of those initiatives, Phone Friend, provided an after-school talk line for elementary students across York County. For seventeen years, my special education majors answered calls from children—many of them latchkey kids—who just needed someone to listen. Another program, WINGS (Winthrop’s Involvement in Nurturing and Graduating Students), paired middle school boys with Winthrop student mentors, creating bonds long after the program ended. Some of those young men still meet up today, reminiscing about the friendships and guidance that shaped them. And then there was the traveling puppet show, where our college students introduced young children to characters with disabilities, teaching lessons about inclusion in ways only storytelling can.

I retired after thirty years at Winthrop—but I wasn’t done. I served twelve years on the university’s Board of Trustees and later worked alongside my husband, Jim Rex, during his time as South Carolina’s State Superintendent of Education. Then, I found myself drawn to Fairfield County, where I co-founded the Fairfield County School District Education Foundation with one goal: addressing the recruitment and retention of teachers in our rural district.

That’s when I took the biggest leap of my career—not in a classroom or university, but in housing development.

With a land gift from the school district and critical financial support, we spent eight years building the first residential community for teachers in South Carolina. What started as an idea has grown into something real: 16 homes for teachers, plus one for University of South Carolina education majors completing their senior year internship in a rural school. And by summer 2025, we’ll have 9 more homes, thanks to generous contributions from United Way of the Midlands, the Central Carolina Community Foundation, and TruVista Corporation.

I never expected to become a housing developer. But life has a way of taking you exactly where you’re meant to be.

At every stage of my career, I have been surrounded by passionate, dedicated people who believe in the power of caring, connecting, and creating something new where it’s needed most. Whether it was helping a struggling child find their confidence, mentoring future educators, or now, providing teachers with a place to call home, the work has always been about the same thing—building something that lasts.

Creating new solutions to persistent problems is incredibly fulfilling – and with any luck, I’m far from finished.

It is too good to be true. How many times have you thought of those words? With each passing day, excitement mixed with a nagging sense of uncertainty. I had worked so hard to reach this point, but as I stood on the brink of my college graduation, I still felt unsure about the future. While my family was incredibly supportive, I wasn’t worried about where I would end up teaching. I was just grateful to be the first person in my family to earn a college degree. I knew how much this moment meant to me and my family, who had sacrificed so much to support me. I would have been thankful for any school that offered me a chance to teach.

But as graduation day approached, my worries shifted. I thought less about the degree I had worked so hard for and more about where I would live. I had never lived on campus during college, always staying with my family in Columbia, South Carolina. But now, as a new graduate, it was time to think about how to support myself—and more importantly, how to support my family stably. The weight of that responsibility began to feel overwhelming, especially with the challenges ahead.

Then things became even more complicated. My aunt, who was also my landlord, had fallen ill and made the difficult decision to sell the home we had lived in for the past fifteen years. I couldn’t fully process it at first. The house that had been our family’s safe haven, where we had made so many memories, was about to be sold. My emotions were torn. Should I celebrate the fact that I was about to graduate with a degree in hand? Or should I comfort my parents as we faced the looming uncertainty of not having a place to call home?

When I thought things couldn’t get worse, an unexpected ray of hope appeared. The day before my graduation, I received a message from my university. At first, I could hardly believe what I was reading. It was an email inviting me to join a unique opportunity for soon-to-be teachers. It was like something out of a dream. The message described a chance to live in a brand-new, two-story home within a special community designed just for teachers—the Village in Winnsboro in Fairfield County. Not only would I live rent-free for a year, but I would also live in a community of educators. It was an opportunity that seemed like it couldn’t possibly be real, but there it was.

The offer was exclusive to graduates from the College of Education beginning their teaching careers in Fall 2024. With my family facing a housing crisis, I couldn’t help but wonder, could this teacher village be real? Could this be the answer to the challenges we were facing? Was this too good to be true? The idea of living in a community of educators—people who truly understood the work and its challenges—felt almost surreal.

After discussing it with my family and now-wife, I decided this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. I was going to move to a place I had never been, to a town I didn’t know, to start a career in a field I was passionate about. Though the uncertainty of the move weighed heavily on me, I had a deep sense of trust that this could be the fresh start I needed. I believed in the potential of this opportunity.

Thankfully, my family’s housing crisis was eventually resolved after my graduation. So, upon my arrival in the Village in Winnsboro, that weight of responsibility fell off my shoulders. I was welcomed by a warm, tight-knit community of educators who immediately offered their support. There was a sense of unity in the air, a feeling that we were all together, facing the same challenges, and lifting each other. The teachers and staff in the school district made it clear that they were invested in my success. I felt embraced by the very community I had been introduced to—a sense of belonging I hadn’t expected so soon.

Teaching in Fairfield County has turned out to be an incredibly fulfilling experience. The journey has been challenging as a first-year teacher, but Fairfield County School District has provided me with the tools and support I need to grow and succeed. I have a fantastic reading coach, a dedicated teaching coach, and a mentor who helped me navigate the first few months of teaching. With a student-teacher ratio of just 15:1, I can form meaningful relationships with each student, allowing me to tailor my instruction to meet their needs. The community, especially at the district office, has been welcoming. Everyone knows me by name, even the superintendent. That’s not something I could have ever expected in a larger district.

Being in a rural area, it didn’t take long for me to understand the depth of connection between the schools and the surrounding communities. People genuinely care about one another here. Teaching in Fairfield has given me a greater sense of purpose, knowing I am part of something genuinely making a difference.

Teaching in Fairfield feels like a calling—a daily commitment to shaping young minds and providing them with the tools they need to succeed. I can’t speak for all the teachers in the district, but my school’s culture is deeply rooted in family and a shared passion for education. Many of my students are relatives of other families who have attended this school for generations. Their parents and even their grandparents walked these same halls. It’s a place where education is more than just a job—it’s a legacy passed down through the years.

At my school, we strive for excellence in every way. Fairfield County places a high value on using best practices in education. From implementing structured literacy to incorporating the latest technologies, like artificial intelligence, into the classroom, the district ensures that students and teachers stay ahead of the curve. Accountability is a key part of the culture. We work tirelessly to meet school-wide goals, and our administrators hold us to high standards, ensuring that we are consistently striving for excellence. I feel fortunate to work alongside such dedicated colleagues; their commitment pushes me to give my best every day.

But what truly sets Fairfield apart is the sense of belonging. I moved here as an intern from an urban area, and I’ve experienced the difference firsthand. The most significant change I’ve felt in Fairfield is that I am not just a number here. The district truly values its educators. As a result, they offer one of the state’s highest teacher retention bonuses, reflecting their recognition of the importance of retaining high-quality teachers. Realizing how crucial recruiting and retaining skilled educators is, the district invested in creating a visionary project—a community of educators like no other. After years of planning, the Village in Winnsboro became a reality in Fall 2024. This innovative community symbolizes the district’s commitment to its teachers.

“Home” in the Teacher Village means much more than just a roof over our heads. It’s about the community we’ve built together. Living in a neighborhood of fellow educators is unique, but having the opportunity to share our lives as professionals and friends makes it even more special. We talk about our students, challenges, and victories—but we also make time to relax, have fun, and enjoy each other’s company. Whether walking through the streets, playing games in the neighborhood, or just having casual conversations, the bonds we’ve formed here make the Village feel like a second family.

Living in the Village has deepened my appreciation for my profession in ways I never imagined. Fairfield County’s commitment to investing in its educators shows how much they value us. I wake up every morning grateful for the opportunity to work in such a supportive environment. With fewer financial worries, I can pour all my energy into teaching my students and improving as an educator. The Village in Winnsboro has not only provided me with a place to live—it has given me a sense of purpose, belonging, and pride that has made me even more determined to make a difference in the lives of my students.

Some of the most important lessons aren’t taught in a classroom. They happen in the quiet moments before the first bell, in conversations on the sidelines of a soccer match, in the simple act of showing up—day after day. Teaching isn’t just about delivering content; it’s about being present, trusted, and part of something bigger than yourself.

After 25 years in education, with the last 10 years in Fairfield County School District, I’ve understood that teaching is more than instruction—it’s about the connections we build, the communities we serve, and the stability we create for ourselves and our students. My work in the Multilingual Learner Program and as a soccer coach at Fairfield Central High School has given me a front-row seat to the power of investing in educators. But beyond that, Fairfield is where I’ve built my home—not just as a teacher, but as a husband, father, and member of a close-knit community.

Teaching in Fairfield isn’t just a job—it’s a commitment to the students and families who trust us to guide them. In a rural district like ours, relationships matter. I don’t just see my students in the classroom; I see them at the grocery store, church, and soccer field. That constant presence creates a deeper level of accountability, investment, and trust. As a multilingual learner educator, I travel between schools, working with students from kindergarten to high school, helping them navigate academics, language barriers, and the challenges of adjusting to new environments. Teaching here is more than just delivering content—it’s about mentorship, advocacy, and ensuring every student feels seen and supported. I work closely with teachers, counselors, and social workers to ensure our students have what they need inside and outside the classroom. That kind of collaborative, student-centered approach is what makes this district special.

But connection alone isn’t enough to keep teachers here. Too often, rural districts like ours lose great educators because of long commutes, limited housing options, or the difficulty of balancing work and home life. That’s why the Teacher Village isn’t just a housing development—it’s a lifeline for those who want to build careers and communities in the same place. It removes barriers and gives teachers a reason to stay.

For me, moving into the Teacher Village has been a game-changer. It’s not just about the shorter commute, though that’s part of it. What truly makes a difference is how much easier it is to balance work and home life. With my new home just minutes from school, I’ve found more time to engage with my students, reconnect with my family, and recharge after a long day. I no longer rush to beat traffic, and my kids feel safe here and know I’m always close by. There’s something powerful about that sense of security—for them and for me. This place isn’t just convenient—it’s a foundation that allows me to be the best version of myself, both in and out of the classroom.

Beyond the personal benefits, living in the Teacher Village has strengthened my connection to my students and their families. I can attend more school events, visit students’ homes when needed, and engage with the community in ways that wouldn’t be possible if I lived farther away. Proximity matters, and having a community of fellow educators next door fosters a shared sense of purpose and support. The thoughtful design, affordability, and accessibility of these homes show that Fairfield County values its teachers—not just for the work we do, but for the lives we build here. When a district invests in its educators, the entire community benefits.

The Teacher Village is more than just a place to live—it’s a national model for how we support and retain teachers in rural districts. It’s proof that when you remove barriers like long commutes and high housing costs, teachers not only stay but thrive. Fairfield isn’t just where I work—it’s where I’ve built my home, career, and future. By creating a stable, supportive environment for educators, the district isn’t just keeping teachers—it’s strengthening schools, improving student outcomes, and building a community where everyone can succeed.

Fairfield isn’t just where I work—it’s where I show up, invest, and stay. And that’s exactly the kind of place I want to call home.

I was shocked to learn that Ms. G. sent the first LinkedIn connection request of any of my parent/teacher relationships and surprised she took the initiative to communicate with me. Her son, T., was beginning his senior year of high school. I will always remember her as an involved parent with high expectations for her son, and her approach to motherhood taught me the significance of the saying, “It takes a village to raise a child.”

I met Ms. G. three years ago at her son’s 9th grade Individualized Education Program (IEP) meeting. While she was attentive to my proposal for her son’s educational plan for the year, she had goals of her own for him, and she made it clear that she did not like the recommendations I proposed. I suggested that T.’s annual goals shift to focusing more on the skills he needed to reach his postsecondary aspiration of becoming a truck driver. Ms. G. simply stated, “This is unacceptable to me. He is in ninth grade, and he should be reading on a ninth-grade level before we focus on anything else.” My attempts to help shift Ms. G’s focus towards preparing T. for his goal of becoming a truck driver were unsuccessful.

The differing roles between a teacher and a parent were clearer than ever. We both supported T.’s future goal of becoming a truck driver, however, as a supportive teacher with a different perspective, my suggestion included using T.’s interest in truck driving to improve his reading abilities. Helping T. required me to teach his family the significance of his independence.

Although we are more commonly known for our work with students, teachers help guide families through the transition of releasing parental guidance to independence.

T. was a student in my unique ninth grade academic support class. There were several students in the class whose mothers had passed away, including sisters who lost their mom two weeks before starting the school year. I connected with the Carolina Family Engagement Center and committed to conducting research on positively influencing parent engagement in student career planning. Despite disagreements, parents like Ms. G. participated in activities which helped make my initiatives successful. My students were motivated to succeed because they had their parents’ support and attention. While I am grateful for the opportunity to impact my students’ success, I’m curious about having a greater impact if given the opportunity to guide students at a younger age. Realizing the opportunity to support young students’ career interests through adolescence is a rewarding journey in teaching and parenting.

Overall, my commitment to the Carolina Family Engagement Center led to more positive communications with parents about their child’s goals, and students were more focused on their academic performance.

My conversations with students and families helped me assess the amount of family time, parental knowledge, and level of independence within each of the families I served. While some of the parents accepted my feedback, I realized that conversations with parents, like Ms. G., were productive for both students and families. As a parent, asking my daughter’s teacher questions about her feedback, while uncomfortable, allowed us to have mutual understanding and develop common goals. The same was true for my relationship with Ms. G., and it was clear she knew T. well, but my communication with her seemed to cause conflict between her and T. at home.

While my class had many discussions with T. about the powerful, positive impact and influence of engaged parents, he did not agree that his mom’s involvement helped him in any way. However, being a mother gave me the opportunity to understand the challenges of parenting, and the difficult balance required in teaching independence.

Although I was a fairly new mom, my daughter and I shared so many pivotal experiences in her first six years of life. Among other events, her tumultuous birth involved life-threatening moments for both of us, including my having a stroke. As a result, I understood what it felt like to have a disability, have your independence stripped due to a disability, care for someone with a disability, and feel disappointment when you expected to be celebrating.

T.’s family was avoiding the inevitable turning point in parenting: teaching independence. Teaching independence is a very difficult transition when a parent doesn’t allow a child to fail. Therefore, my response to our parent-teacher conflict was guided by my belief that there are many lessons learned directly and indirectly through all life experiences.  Ultimately, it is challenging situations that shape people into becoming wiser. Ms. G. needed time to adjust and to accept the reality that T. was growing up, and he wasn’t going to achieve everything she wanted him to on her schedule.

While Ms. G and I never came to complete agreement, we maintained mutual respect for our unique perspectives, our parent-teacher relationship, and our dedication to T.

By the end of that school year, I reached the conclusion that schools consist of public servants. Public servants, driven by awareness and respect, are a part of the village that every parent hopes to build for their families. Although the year started with my overzealous approach to supporting my daughter through first grade, I soon realized that parents’ influence is limited. Ultimately, teachers hoping to make an impact, like my daughter’s teacher and myself, become a part of the child’s village.

Accepting Ms. G.’s LinkedIn request confirmed she learned the significance of independence and the meaning of “a village.” I thanked her for reaching out to me and wished her and T. well in his senior year of high school. Ms. G. replied, “Yes ma’am. It is a long road, but he is slowly getting back on track. Thank you for everything that you have done. It’s truly appreciated.” Her gratitude was a warm confirmation which taught me that many people contribute to a child’s development and celebrate their success.

Being a part of a village is not limited to teachers, it involves everyone fulfilling their purpose and role. Since we all have a purpose, it is imperative to your village and yourself that you fulfill it.

In my professional role, I enjoy working with parents and caregivers within and outside of schools. Recently, a parent completed the Parent Leadership Partner (PLP) Program through the Carolina Family Engagement Center (CFEC). This year-long program, followed by a certificate of completion and graduation ceremony, allowed 15 parents to meet monthly to complete coursework designed to help parents better navigate the public education system. The program allows them to see themselves as advocates and leaders through the process. This particular parent, Randall Lowder, was empowered to become the chair of the School Improvement Council at his son’s junior high school and initiated the following call to action for a “reality check” event at his son’s middle school.

There’s education, and then there’s education. Randall Lowder was concerned about the education required for handling life in the real world beyond book reports and lab experiments. How could his son and other students learn about money management, paying for housing, budgeting for medical bills, car insurance, and future family needs?

Those lessons weren’t taught at Manning Junior High School, where Lowder was chair of the School Improvement Council (SIC). Lowder, a single parent, discussed his worries with me. As part of my CFEC Family Engagement Liaison job, I attended SIC meetings during CFEC’s four-year partnership with Manning Junior High. Often, CFEC liaisons help schools in important ways beyond academics and other school goals. As a fellow single parent, I understood his concerns.

So was born the Reality Check Expo, an event that supported the school’s 180 eighth graders to start thinking about their futures in practical terms. Another unexpected benefit: firmer ties to the community, thanks to the participation of local businesses.

“Parent and community involvement has always been a struggle with students at this age level,” Principal Terrie T. Ard shared. “The Reality Check Expo allows our school to work with parents and community stakeholders, such as the chamber of commerce, to help host such an event for our students.”

At the expo, students visited various booths in the school gym to learn about money management. Based on their career interests and hypothetical future family size, each student visited different experts to see what income they needed to pay for their ideal way of living. Housing, insurance, utilities, groceries, entertainment, clothing, medical, and childcare experts guided them at individual booths. Outside, different booths were set up for students to get a sense of various vehicle costs and other means of transportation. The last booth was a bank booth, where a banker tallied each student’s financial status and guided them through applying for a loan if they needed more money. Students also met with individual teachers to discuss job and career options and post-secondary education requirements based on their interests.

The pilot Reality Check Expo was so successful that future expos were planned to include students in sixth and seventh grades. Expo planners based this event on a successful program model in Yukon Public Schools in Oklahoma, which started its Reality Check event in 2002. Lowder learned about the program through social media and contacted the school for information. Educators shared their materials with the Manning Junior High SIC and other schools nationwide.

As a Columbia resident and non-member but regular attendee of the Manning Junior High SIC, I served as a helpful observer rather than an emotionally involved participant. This neutral role allowed me to smooth tensions between two members of the SIC. When one party approached me asking for advice about how to diffuse the situation, I could respond in a way that mediated the situation. I kept a calm spirit and did more listening than talking to identify issues and propose solutions. I advised how to handle the problem, and both voices were heard.

The tension abated, and the Reality Check Expo moved from idea to reality. Principal Ard appreciated the outcome, recalling, “Our CFEC liaison has been a tremendous asset to our school. Having someone to bridge the divide of parent and school relations has been a positive experience.”

I believe in schools keeping open communication with the community they serve. Often, CFEC liaisons help schools in important ways beyond academics and other school goals. My work as a CFEC liaison at Manning Junior High School to find resources to support schools and families paid off: five book vending machines and three CFEC Community Family Resource Centers (CFRCs) were placed in Clarendon County. CFRCs are high-quality stations providing free community and school materials and information, some translated into Spanish.

Ard, who notes her school’s 2022 “excellent” rating in the South Carolina Department of Education report card, affirms MJHS’s positive experience with CFEC. “The entire process has been great,” she says. “I feel our family-school-community engagement grew stronger every year of the partnership. With Ms. Outing’s help, I feel the line of communication with parents, community, and school has strengthened.”

There is this notion that many parents don’t care or believe it is entirely up to educators to ensure their children are prepared for life beyond school. Often, barriers such as work, transportation, homelessness, hunger, abusive relationships, negative past experiences, and lack of knowledge are overlooked. Over the past several years working as a CFEC Family Engagement Liaison in the SC Pee Dee region, I’ve had the opportunity to see otherwise.

What began as one parent’s idea, inspired by a different school district’s implementation in another part of the country, ended with much more than anyone could have hoped. This collaboration among community partners and middle school educators, parents, and students offers encouragement and a powerful model for other schools to follow.

It is common for people to move from job to job, attempting to find something “better.” Sometimes, this leads to disappointment when it’s discovered that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. However, in my experience, changing school districts proved to be the greener grass opportunity I needed to thrive.

I began teaching in 2015 and faced numerous challenges in my initial district and school. Despite difficulties, those three years were a period of significant personal and professional growth. I gained many friends and colleagues who helped me become the teacher I am today. Our placements in life serve a purpose, and I have no regrets about where I started my career.

But after three years, I knew I wanted to find a place where I felt supported and heard. 

Change and discomfort are not natural allies of mine, but I took a leap of faith and applied for a Montessori teaching position within the School District of Newberry County.

My first interview was for an upper elementary Montessori position. Fate intervened when that position was filled, leading me to interview at Boundary Street Elementary School for a lower elementary Montessori position. Auspiciously, the teacher who filled the position at the first school I interviewed with was the teacher who left Boundary Street Elementary. I accepted the 2018-2019 position with excitement and anticipation.

Everything happens for a reason, and I immediately felt welcomed and at home.

Newberry School District’s motto is, “One District, One Team, One Mission,” this statement accurately depicts the collaborative, helpful, community-based district that’s been my professional home for the past six years. 

Boundary is also a significant reason why I feel like I belong. The administration strongly supports teachers and staff, my colleagues are collaborative, and parents are involved. Together, we embody the “One Team” mentality and are dedicated to meeting students where they are, guiding them to excel, and ensuring they feel loved and valued.

As someone who grew up in an environment where I did not feel loved or valued, I wanted to work where staff make sure every child who walks through the door knows they are loved and that they matter. No child should ever go a day feeling unworthy, unloved, or unnoticed. Our school’s motto is “Be You. You Matter. And You Are Loved.” The students are our WHY.

I consider myself extremely fortunate to teach my students for three years at a time. This allows me to form meaningful relationships with families, teach siblings, and engage actively in their lives within the Newberry community, both in and out of school. This connection reinforces my sense of belonging, making me feel like a valued part of the community despite not residing in Newberry County.

Beyond fostering a sense of belonging, Newberry has provided me with countless opportunities to enhance my own and my students’ skills. Through LETRS training, an ML endorsement, and attending reading and Montessori conferences—all fully supported by the district—I have been able to embody the lifelong learning mindset I strive to model for students.

Aside from providing growth opportunities, the district office staff actively engages with campus staff. They ask, listen, and value teachers’ voices and input. They also offer constructive feedback and words of encouragement. Recently, our Assistant Director of Curriculum and Director of Elementary Education visited my classroom and shared positive feedback. One note mentioned, “I enjoyed visiting your class. Expectations have been established along with procedures.” Their presence and acknowledgment of our work are impactful, validating and reinforcing that our efforts are making a difference and are noticed.

Amazing and loving educators who leave the profession often do so because of school and/or district culture and climate issues. According to SC – Teacher Top Ten Findings, “School-level factors, like issues with student discipline and lack of administrative support, contributed the most to teachers’ decisions to depart.” We need support and guidance when challenges arise, not to be pushed aside and unheard.

Conversely, a supportive district and school-level administration that truly listens can significantly influence teacher retention.

“Admin support and influence over school policy had the strongest relationships with teacher job satisfaction and intention to stay in the profession.” According to the SC School Report Cards, Newberry boasts a 97.2% teacher retention rate. This is comparable to the 97.9% state average. In addition, out of 390 teachers who completed the opinion survey last year, 91.6% of teachers were satisfied with the learning environment. This is slightly higher than the state average of 90.7%. There is a direct correlation between the climate of the district, the school where teachers work, and their decision to stay in the classroom.

Encouraging teachers to have a voice and influence in district and school policies can also prompt educators to stay in the profession. For example, last year I had opportunities to share my ideas and work within my school. Our school’s leadership team worked together to find solutions to problems and implement new ideas to impact the community positively. I led the Student Recognition Committee and created a way to showcase our students. When I was completing the National Board process, I shared a presentation on Question Answer Relationships (QAR) in faculty meetings. This instructional approach improved our students’ comprehension and fostered stronger test-taking skills by encouraging them to think critically beyond the text. My instructional coach also shared this work with other instructional coaches across the district. This underscores how our district supports and values teacher influence and input.

The support of the district, my school, and the community has shaped me as a teacher. Because of this support, I was recognized as my school’s 2024-2025 Teacher of the Year. To be recognized for this honor by my colleagues means the world to me. This opportunity also enables me to represent my colleagues as part of the teacher forum for our district. It allows me to listen, advocate, and communicate two-way information between the district and our school.

The ongoing challenges of teaching can make our “grass” appear brown and lifeless. Discovering a place where you feel a sense of belonging, receive support, and feel your expertise appreciated is invaluable. Fortunately, I found that the grass is greener in the Newberry School District.

Twelve years ago, I made the difficult decision to leave a nearby school district to teach in Newberry County.

It was a personal decision because I was leaving the school I attended as a child in a highly accomplished district. Many schools have been recognized with prestigious awards, such as Palmetto’s Finest, train nationally ranked academic and athletic teams, and offer supplemental programs to all grade levels. In addition, the elementary schools provide magnet programs, foreign languages, pull-out gifted and talented classes, and in-house special services such as physical therapy and occupational therapy.

What made my decision difficult was moving my child from a school that offered these services to one that I naively believed did not.

Now that my son is 21, I often reflect on his time as a student in Newberry County. There was no need for worry. 

My son’s teachers at Little Mountain Elementary loved him for the person he is — quiet, smart, and kind. They found ways to challenge his gifts in reading and writing and supported him as he grew to love math. When the stress of middle school became overwhelming at Mid-Carolina Middle, his teachers reassured him, supported his special needs, and continued to challenge him to reach his full potential. And as he advanced through Mid-Carolina High School, he continued to excel academically, receiving credit for many AP courses that transferred as course credit when he started college. He graduated in the top 5% of his class as a Palmetto Fellow, received numerous scholarship offers throughout the state, and has continued his success throughout college. He is now a senior in the Honors College at the University of South Carolina, majoring in accounting.

I recently asked my son what he liked most about attending school in Newberry County. He shared that his favorite grade was seventh grade because his teachers were nice. In high school, he enjoyed being in classes with peers with similar interests and academic goals. He also liked the size of his schools and felt prepared for the future when he graduated.

His opinion of school was not based on test scores, report card ratings, sports records, or special events. It was important to him that he felt safe, valued, and could learn in a clean, respectful environment.

Beginning in kindergarten, teachers in South Carolina are guided by the “Profile of the South Carolina Graduate” principles to prepare our students for life after graduation. Although the School District of Newberry County may not have magnet schools, language immersion programs, and specialized state-of-the-art facilities, students who attend school in Newberry County are well-prepared for college when they graduate. All students receive the special services they need through contracted services if the SDNC does not provide them. Gifted and talented students are served through enrichment by trained educators in each elementary school. Though foreign language is not a part of our elementary school curriculum, our diverse community offers opportunities for students to learn about other cultures.

As part of the education team of Newberry County, I know the teachers within our district are highly trained. We have numerous opportunities yearly to further our education through professional development workshops, conferences, and specialized training. We receive ongoing support through mentors and instructional coaches, access to up-to-date technology, and the instructional resources and materials we need to do our job. Our administrators and district leaders are approachable, resourceful, and supportive as we strive as a team to guide our students toward their full potential. Our district is also fortunate to have a strong relationship with Newberry College as we grow, train, and employ new teachers within our school system.

Parents want only the best for their children. We often use social media, word of mouth, and state report cards to compare teachers, schools, and districts. These resources provide a snapshot into our schools and the future of our communities, and as taxpayers and investors in the community, we want the best education outcomes for our students.

The world of an educator and parent intertwine when a public school teacher has school-aged children. 

You must experience things firsthand to truly appreciate the benefits and challenges of varied learning experiences. As a parent who is an educator, I sometimes must release control, responsibility, and outcomes to others. I believe teachers and parents want the very best for their students and children, and both must have faith that others will love and respect their children as much as they do. Considering all these factors as a parent and educator, I would not change my decision to let my son attend school in Newberry County.

Does Newberry offer a well-rounded education that challenges students’ strengths, prepares them for life after graduation, and nurtures them socially and emotionally in our ever-changing world? As a teacher in Newberry County and the parent of a child who attended Newberry schools, I am proud to answer, “Yes, we do!”

As Co-Chair of the 2019 award-winning School Improvement Council (SIC) at Walhalla High School (WHS), we wanted to improve school communication and support for Multilingual Learners (MLL) and their families. Since I was not bilingual and not a member of the Latino community, I knew we had to begin by forming relationships with trusted bilingual community leaders to help us understand our Latino community’s cultural values and needs.

By leveraging the expertise of community leaders, we successfully hosted the first annual School Wellness Community Resource Fair, explicitly designed to welcome and support Latino family members in our school community. Para Todos was held in the old WHS soccer stadium, a space that is walkable and familiar to the Latino community. The event was scheduled to coincide with the yearly WHS Alumni Soccer game. We recruited Latino food vendors and required all community organizations to share materials in Spanish and English. We also had a bilingual staff member available to meet with families. The event was well-attended by Latino families in Walhalla and was so successful it became an annual event.

I still use what I learned through this leadership experience on SIC to guide my work as a Carolina Family Engagement Center Family Liaison.  

Modeling many of the family-school-community partnership strategies used in the Para Todos event, the Community Family Resource Center (CRFC) implementation at the Walhalla Branch of the Oconee County Public Library (OCPL) launched in 2022. Under the leadership of Superintendent Molly Spearman, the South Carolina Department of Education (SCDE) partnered with CFEC to develop CRFCs across the state.

These centers are designed to share essential resources to help families support children’s learning and development in places where families typically go shopping, get gas, do laundry, or pay the water bill. 

What is unique about the CRFC in Walhalla is that all materials are in English and Spanish. CFEC partnered with Blair Hinson, OCPL Director; Nivia Miranda, Bilingual Facilitator at James M. Brown Elementary School and OCPL board member; and Sarai Melendez, Walhalla City Councilwoman, to ensure that this CRFC was a good fit for our community and a winning solution for all involved.

The staff invests in making the library a community hub and welcoming space for Latino community members. In addition to the CRFC, they employ a part-time social worker, part-time interpreter, and full-time bilingual community member. They intentionally partner with community organizations and bilingual community health workers to host informational events in Spanish and family events that honor the Latino culture. They partner with the local school district to provide free summer meals and serve as a local Food Share program distribution site. All events take place in or adjacent to the CRFC. If families need information about getting the help they need, bilingual staff members and volunteers direct them to the best resources in our community.

All these efforts help build a community of belonging — one relationship at a time. 

Recently, new immigrant moms gathered for a workshop at the library where they received free diapers, and their children enjoyed a free meal during the holiday break. These moms had an opportunity to ask volunteer bilingual community health workers questions about accessing healthcare and enrolling their children in school. They expressed surprise that so much help was available at no cost and wondered why community members cared about them; they did not expect to feel accepted in this way. This is another illustration of the power of the Walhalla CRFC.

Many MLL families don’t feel comfortable using resources available at the library or entering their child’s school building to ask for help. Most schools have locked doors and require a picture ID to enter the building. Some schools are ill-equipped to serve families who are English learners, so families may not have access to an interpreter, and materials with important information about their child’s education may not be available in a parent’s home language. Some MLL families face challenges in digital literacy and may only have a grade school education in their home country — making it difficult to know how to navigate the U. S. education system.

CFEC and the Walhalla CRFC help families bridge this gap by providing the resources and support they need to advocate for their child’s learning, development, and educational needs.

CFEC continues to honor the voices of Latino parents in South Carolina. With the help of Councilwoman Melendez, we have recruited Latino parents to serve as a parent advisory group to share their experiences in the educational setting and inform what we do to improve outcomes for MLL students and families. This approach is transformative in that it provides a paradigm shift. Rather than using a top-down or outside-in approach to school and community decision-making, CFEC, in general, and the Walhalla school community, in particular, are learning how to level the playing field by connecting with members of the Latino community. We learn from them directly about what the community needs and how, where, and when to meet their needs.

We cannot effectively advocate for and improve outcomes for MLL students and families without inviting Latino parents and community members to sit at the decision-making table. 

This work becomes increasingly important as our Latino student and family population grows across the state. According to data compiled by the Migration Policy Institute, Spanish speakers comprise 70% of South Carolina’s MLL population. The number and diversity of languages spoken by newly arriving immigrant families are also increasing. In addition to Spanish, Russian, Portuguese, Chinese, and Vietnamese are among the top five languages spoken in South Carolina schools. There is a continuing trend of growth of the immigrant population in South Carolina, with a 135.7% increase of foreign-born immigrants and a 28.6% increase in U.S.-born, in South Carolina since 2000, demonstrating the increased diversity within the state’s population. Nearly half of these newly arriving immigrant families have at least one parent in the home who is Limited English Proficient (LEP).

To meet this challenge, schools must find creative solutions to meet language access needs, build culturally responsive relationships, and share decision-making power with MLL families to promote their children’s school success. To learn more about building authentic and intentional family-school-community partnerships, visit the CFEC website and use this toolkit to learn more about setting up a CRFC in your school community.

References

Migration Policy Institute, National Center on Immigrant Integration Policy, “U.S. Young Children (ages 0 to 5) by Dual Language Learner Status: National and State Sociodemographic and Family Profiles” (data tables, MPI, Washington, DC, 2024).

Migration Policy Institute (MPI) tabulation of data from the U.S. Census Bureau’s American Community Survey (ACS), pooled for 2015-19. “State Demographics Data – SC,” accessed February 27, 2024, https://www.migrationpolicy.org/data/state-profiles/state/demographics/SC