There’s a pattern in my life that’s become easier to recognize the older I get: I’ve never really followed the expected route.
Not out of rebellion or a need to be different for the sake of it. I’ve just always felt a steady pull toward what felt right for me — not what was assumed, inherited or mapped out ahead of time. That started early.
In my family, The Ohio State University wasn’t just a college. It was the college. Generations on both sides. Tradition. Pride. The expected next step.
And when it came time to apply for college, I didn’t even entertain it.
Not because I didn’t respect what it meant to my family, but because I already knew I wanted something smaller, more connected and more personal. I wanted a place where relationships mattered and where I could carve out my own identity instead of stepping into one already waiting for me.
That decision led me to my beloved Wilmington College — one of the most important choices I’ve ever made.

Wilmington shaped me in ways that still impact how I move through life and leadership today. It taught me how to think critically, build relationships, lead with authenticity and understand that education is always about people first.
Years later, my connection to the college still remains strong through alumni involvement and continued relationships. Some places don’t just educate you. They become part of your foundation.

Then came another leap that changed everything: Leaving Ohio for Raleigh nearly 20 years ago. No built-in network. No familiar faces. No real safety net. Just a decision rooted in instinct and belief that growth was waiting on the other side of discomfort.I didn’t know a single person when I moved here.
But I knew staying comfortable wasn’t going to stretch me personally or professionally the way I needed. The initial reason for my leap, employment in the Wake County Public School System — a district that has challenged me, sharpened me and given me opportunities to grow as an educator and leader in ways I couldn’t have imagined back in the summer of 2006.
There’s also another layer to all of this that matters deeply to me. Public education and farming both run through my family history. Both represent legacy, hard work and identity. Choosing education over the family farm and an agricultural career wasn’t something I took lightly.

But even then, I knew I needed to build a life that aligned with who I was — not simply continue a script because it already existed. Looking back now, none of these decisions feel disconnected.
Choosing Wilmington. Leaving Ohio. Building a career in North Carolina. Taking risks professionally and personally instead of defaulting to comfort or expectation.
It’s all the same thread. I’ve always been willing to take the longer road if it felt more authentic.
And honestly, that mindset shapes how I lead in education every single day. Schools are filled with systems, traditions and “the way things have always been done.” Some deserve protecting. Others deserve rethinking entirely. Leadership requires discernment. The ability to honor tradition without becoming trapped by it.
That’s probably why I’ve always gravitated toward leadership rooted in relationships, trust, communication and authenticity over performative leadership or rigid hierarchy.
Students know when adults are genuine. Staff know when leaders are grounded. Communities know when decisions are being made with integrity.
I think living independently — making difficult choices based on alignment instead of expectation — has ultimately made me a better educator and leader because it’s taught me how important voice, identity and ownership really are.




At the end of the day, independence has never meant isolation to me. It’s meant having the courage to choose a path that feels honest — even when it’s unfamiliar. Looking back, the biggest leaps I’ve taken ended up becoming the moments that shaped me most.

































