I didn't take a straight road to this classroom.
I'm a mother first — and somewhere in the middle of raising my daughter, working as a substitute teacher, and fighting my way through a credential program at the University of Redlands, I remembered something: the teachers who changed my life weren't the ones with the fanciest classrooms. They were the ones who saw me. Who made me feel like I was worth the effort. I never forgot that — and I never stopped chasing the chance to be that for someone else.
This past April, I finally got there. Last year, I graduated with my Bachelor's degree in English Literature. This time around, I got my Single Subject English credential and graduated with my Master's degree in Education, and I'll soon be stepping into my very first classroom to teach secondary English.
I cried. A lot.
Now comes the part nobody really prepares you for: building a classroom from nothing. From scratch. No library. No supplies. No little corner that whispers "you are safe here" to a kid who really needs to hear it. I believe every student deserves a room that feels like it was made for them — with books that look like their lives, a seat that's actually comfortable, and the quiet message that their teacher showed up ready. I want to be that teacher. I just need a little help getting there.
Here's what I'm working to build:
- Books — diverse, contemporary YA titles that reflect my students' real lives and experiences
- Classroom library supplies — labels, bins, and organizational materials
- Student supplies — pencils, paper, notebooks, highlighters, as well as snacks and water for students who arrive without
- Anchor chart materials and visual displays for vocabulary and writing support
- Classroom furniture — bookshelves, seating, and the basics that make a space feel real
- A comfort corner — a rug, some cushions, something that quietly says you belong here
If you've ever had a teacher who made you feel like you mattered — this is your chance to pass that forward. Every dollar, every share, every word of encouragement helps me walk through that door ready to give these kids everything I've got. Whether it's $5 or $50, every contribution builds something real.
Every person who contributes becomes a part of this classroom, even if they never set foot in it. My students won't know your name, but they'll feel what you made possible — in the book that finally speaks to them, in the corner where they feel safe enough to breathe, in the moment they realize someone cared enough to show up for them before they even arrived.
I can't wait to meet them. Thank you for believing in a classroom full of kids you've never met — and a teacher who is ready to fight for them. From the bottom of my heart, whether you give, share, or just read this far — thank you. It means more than you know.