Memorial Day for Teachers?
Some people save lives with a single lesson.
Most of us can still picture the teacher who changed something in us.
The one who saw us before we saw ourselves.
The one who stayed after class, wrote the extra note, pushed us harder, or quietly refused to let us disappear.
Over the Memorial Day weekend, I found myself reflecting on service, sacrifice, and the people who shape a nation from behind the scenes.
For more than 50 years as an educator - and through all my years as a student from kindergarten through graduate school - I’ve been surrounded by teachers who changed lives in ways no test score could ever capture.
And this year, I keep coming back to one question:
Why don’t we honor teachers in the same way we honor other forms of service?
I’m deeply grateful for the men and women who served our country in the military. I attend Memorial Day parades. I wave my flag proudly. Their sacrifices deserve remembrance.
But teachers fight quieter battles every day.
They stand in crowded classrooms carrying invisible burdens.
They walk into rooms full of uncertainty and somehow create possibility.
They absorb frustration, fear, exhaustion, and doubt — then still find a way to hand hope back to a child.
And most of that work goes unseen.
A great teacher can alter the course of a life without ever appearing in the headlines.
The world measures teachers with grades, evaluations, and test scores. But the real impact often lives somewhere else entirely.
It lives in the student who almost gave up but stayed.
The shy child who finally raised their hand.
The struggling teenager who heard, maybe for the first time, “You’re capable of more than you think.”
I still remember moments like that in my own life.
A teacher opening a door to a new world of learning.
A mentor challenging me when it would have been easier to stay comfortable.
A colleague pushing me to think bigger.
Someone offering tough feedback that eventually led to a breakthrough.
At the time, those moments felt small.
Looking back, they changed everything. Most teachers never fully know the lives they’ve reshaped. And yet, many keep showing up anyway.
That’s why I want to offer a simple challenge: think about one teacher who impacted your life.
Who encouraged you when you were ready to quit?
Who saw strengths in you that you couldn’t yet see yourself?
Who became your ally in an unfriendly season?
Who connected you to a person, an opportunity, or a path that changed your direction?
Now reach out to them.
Send the email. Write the letter. Make the phone call. Send the text.
Do it while you still can. Because appreciation has a strange kind of power.
I can tell you personally: those messages matter more than people realize.
☺️ They arrive on hard days like oxygen.
🙌 They remind exhausted educators that their work mattered.
🔥 They become tiny sparks that keep the flame alive a little longer.
As I approach my 79th birthday, those gestures are still fuel for me. They are part of the reason I continue doing this work with energy and hope. People rarely burn out from hard work alone. They burn out from feeling unseen. And maybe that’s the deeper truth here.
Teachers don’t need a parade. But they do deserve remembrance. Respect. Gratitude spoken out loud while they’re still here to hear it.
One message could stay with a teacher for decades. And sometimes, a few sincere words become the very thing that keeps someone’s inner flame alive.
🔥Speaking of sparks…
Stay tuned over the next two weeks. We’ve been working on something very close to our hearts: a toolkit designed to help teachers regain - or strengthen - their spark.
It’s for individual teachers and whole schools alike, and we’re excited to share more soon, including special pre-release pricing.
Because the people who spend their lives lighting fires in others deserve help protecting their own flame too.
The best teachers leave their mark on student's’ lives, not just report cards.
