New Font Choice and New Topic
I haven’t blogged in over a decade. In that time, life has unfolded in big and beautiful ways — I completed my second education degree, welcomed a second child, became a primary school teacher, and now serve as an Assistant Principal leading Stage 3.
After so much change — personally and professionally — I’ve felt a quiet pull to reflect. To pause and consider the kind of educator I once aspired to be, and ask: do those ideals still ring true today?Do they still guide me, or have they evolved under the weight of experience, shifting roles, and a system that often feels unrecognisable?
To be honest, I’m also asking the harder question: is it still worth staying in education?
The system we work in often feels stretched thin — fraying under the pressure of complex needs, relentless reform, and an ever-growing list of expectations. We are charged with addressing the full spectrum of diverse student needs, from learners with disabilities, to multilingual students, to those carrying the weight of trauma or disconnection. And rightly so — our students deserve that.
But we’re also expected to prepare them for a future we can barely predict — adapting curriculum, pedagogy, and assessment to match the demands of a changing economy and world. Meanwhile, curriculum documents shift, initiatives pile up, and the people expected to hold it all together — the teachers — are burning out.
So I’m returning here, to this space, to reflect honestly. To revisit the educator I was, hold up a mirror to the one I am now, and ask:
What matters most? What’s still worth holding onto? And what do I need to let go of?
And maybe, just maybe, through writing and reflection, I can remember why I began — and what might still be possible.
Where Do I Begin?
When I last left this space, I was deep in Early Childhood Education. I’d been offered several opportunities to stay in that field — roles as room leader and service director. Some offers were genuine. Others came from those hoping to capitalise on my passion and drive to make a difference.
At one point, I was even invited to help write a university unit on Creativity in Early Childhood.It felt exciting — like my thinking and experience were being recognised. But it soon became clear that the
invitation wasn’t quite what it seemed. A lecturer had tapped into my ideas, insights, and passion, only to move forward without me — leaving me sidelined from the actual opportunity. It stung. Not just because I missed out, but because it confirmed a familiar feeling: that my work was valuable, but not always valueAt the time, I turned down formal leadership roles. Not because I didn’t want to lead — I did. But on more than one occasion, I was told that leadership in early childhood needed a “motherly figurehead.” I hope that mindset has changed in the past ten years. I hope more male educators are now given the space to lead with heart, creativity, and careInstead, I stepped into the challenge of becoming a casual primary school teacher. I worked across age groups, contexts, and settings — learning as I went. I was soon offered a permanent kindergarten position in a public school. In those early years, I often felt like an outsider. My background in early childhood — my enthusiasm, creativity, and relational practice — didn’t always fit into the structured world of formal schoolingAfter a few school moves, though, I found my place — and my people. I’ve since gone on to lead Stage 2 and now Stage 3. I’ve supported colleagues, designed units, coached teachers, and shaped school directions. I’ve seen how much of what I believed in as an early childhood educator — play, voice, curiosity, connection — still matters just as much in Year 5.
What I’ve Noticed Lately
The past decade has been a blur. Somewhere along the way, I’ve lost a bit of balance. My eldest is 18 now. I blinked, and they were grown. And I’ve found myself asking: Where did the time go?Why have I spent so much of it commuting and working late into the evening?
How can I begin to recalibrate? How can I reconnect with the parts of this work that fill my cup — and still be present for my own life?
So Where To Now?
Let’s begin by tying it all together — my early childhood philosophy and my current leadership beliefs. Let’s draw the line between who I was and who I am becoming. Between the seed I once nurtured and the tree I’m still growing.
This blog will be a space for that. For reflection. For story. For remembering. For imagining better.
The Seed: Curiosity, Challenge & Growth
Every curiosity — and every challenge — is a seed.
In early childhood, I learned to pay close attention to play. That’s where the learning lived — in curiosity, in exploration, in moments of wonder. Now, teaching Stage 3, I’ve learned to pay just as much attention to challenge. Because sometimes a seed isn’t sparked by joy, but by struggle. A tricky concept. A hesitant writer. A social dynamic that feels too big to name.
Whether sparked by interest or by difficulty, every seed offers the same invitation:
Notice it. Nurture it. Grow it into something powerful.
Help students master it, make sense of it, overcome it — and grow.
This metaphor has stayed with me, from preschool sandpits to Year 5 classrooms. It’s become a framework that helps me think clearly about how I teach, how I lead, and how I grow alongside my students and colleagues.
So here it is — my evolving Stage 3 philosophy, drawn from the roots of early childhood and stretched skyward through the realities of leadership and practice.
🌿 ROOTS: Foundational Beliefs (In a Stage 3 Context)
These are the beliefs that anchor me — the ones I return to when things get murky, pressured, or overloaded. They’re the same roots I wrote about years ago — just deeper now.
🪵 THE TRUNK: The Role of the Educator and Leader
As a Stage 3 teacher and middle leader, I see my role as both gardener and guide. I work to:
- Observe and respond to what students need — emotionally, socially, and academically.
- Use data and dialogue to inform next steps in learning.
- Lead with intention, designing spaces where teachers reflect, create, and collaborate.
- Set clear learning goals, but stay open to the unexpected — the spark, the twist, the teachable moment.
🌿 BRANCHES: The Practices That Grow from My Values
🍃 LEAVES: What We See When it Works
- Students show deeper understanding, greater ownership, and more voice in their learning.
- Teachers work with clarity and confidence — knowing where they’re going and why it matters.
- Planning becomes purposeful, not performative.
- Leadership becomes influence — not control.





























