In early March 2025, I had the incredible opportunity to present at the National Education Association (NEA) Leadership Summit on a topic very close to my heart—leading a local teachers’ association. Specifically, I spoke about the role of serving as a local president. More than 50 educators attended my session, and what followed was one of the most enriching conversations. These folks understood the complexities, the weight, and the profound joy of leadership. They had stories, wisdom, and questions that filled the room with energy. I walked away deeply inspired by their passion and reminded, once again, why this work matters.


I’m currently in my 11th year of serving in leadership within my local association. I use the phrase “a president” intentionally. In our local, the presidency is a three-year cycle: beginning with a term as president-elect (or vice president), moving into the president role, and then transitioning to past president. This model has allowed for continuity, mentorship, and shared responsibility. Across these years, I have grown in ways I never expected. I’ve had to develop courage, resilience, and determination under pressure. I’ve learned how to advocate fiercely and listen deeply. Most of all, I’ve learned that leadership is less about control and more about connection.
This year’s NEA Summit was held in Detroit, Michigan, a first for the organization. I was struck by the city’s hospitality—the people were welcoming, helpful, and proud to share their city. The Huntington Place Convention Center, where the Summit was hosted, was massive and architecturally stunning. But what truly captivated me was the location itself. The convention center sits along the Detroit River, a body of water with deep historical significance.

Each morning during my stay, I found myself drawn to the river. I’d pause, coffee in hand, and reflect on the stories I’ve read and taught—narratives of the Underground Railroad, of the Detroit River needing to be crossed for freedom of the many enslaved individuals making their way to Canada. Harriet Tubman’s legacy, and the courage of those who traveled with her, felt incredibly present. To stand at the edge of that river and imagine the fear, hope, and determination of those who crossed it was a sobering experience. In our current political climate—when civil rights, public education, and union work are again being tested—it felt particularly meaningful to be reminded of the courage that lives in our history.
The Summit itself was just as powerful. NEA President Becky Pringle and Vice President Princess Moss delivered inspiring keynotes that combined truth-telling with hope. They spoke about justice, joy, and the collective strength of educators. The breakout sessions were rich and varied—offering content on everything from bargaining and organizing to the history of NEA, coalition-building, and even the impact of AI in education. There truly was something for every kind of leader in every stage of their journey.
While I came to Detroit to share what I’ve learned over the past decade, I quickly realized that I was there to learn just as much—if not more. I met incredible people who are navigating similar challenges, building leadership pipelines, and doing the quiet, powerful work of sustaining their locals. I left with new ideas, new connections, and a renewed sense of purpose.
Here’s what I know: Leadership isn’t about the leader. It’s about those who come alongside you. It’s about the conversations that move the work forward. It’s about advocating for our colleagues, even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s about protecting the profession so our students get what they need. The work can be challenging, yes—but it’s also deeply rewarding. And when you find yourself in a room full of people who get it, who have walked in your shoes, you remember that you are not alone.
I am so grateful to NEA for the opportunity to present, and to everyone who showed up to learn, grow, and share their stories. I went to Detroit thinking I was going to lead a session. I left reminded why I lead at all.


Leave a comment