Reflections from the Road

Stories, lessons, and inspiration gathered through travel and teaching. 

15 Days Until Greece

Walking the Camino de Santiago with My Daughter: Faith, Perseverance, and Purpose on the Camino Portugués 

In 2011, I added something to my bucket list that felt almost impossible at the time: walk the Camino de Santiago. Not drive it. Not tour it. Walk it.

For years, the Camino de Santiago sat quietly in the back of my mind,  one of those dreams you revisit during busy seasons of life and promise yourself you’ll do “someday.” But someday has a way of slipping further away when careers, responsibilities, deadlines, and everyday survival take over.

Then last summer, after more than a decade of waiting, I finally did it. And somehow, the experience became even more meaningful because I didn’t walk it alone. I walked from Porto to Santiago de Compostela with my daughter.

My daughter, Glory, is a librarian, which somehow made the entire experience feel even more fitting. Librarians understand stories differently. They know that journeys are rarely just about destinations. They pay attention to details, symbols, history, and the quiet moments most people rush past. Along the Camino, she noticed things I might have missed: inscriptions on ancient churches, hidden bookshops, conversations with pilgrims from around the world, and the layers of history woven into every village we crossed.

What I thought would simply be a physical journey became something much deeper. The Camino has a way of stripping life down to essentials. Every day became simple: wake up, walk, carry what you need, keep moving forward. There’s clarity in that simplicity. No endless distractions. No constant noise. Just the road, your thoughts, your conversations, and your next step.

And there were hard moments.

Blisters. Injuries. Exhaustion. Heat. Long stretches where our legs hurt and our energy disappeared. Moments where we questioned how much farther we could go that day. But what stood out most was learning how we faced challenges together. Travel has always brought our family closer, but the Camino revealed something different. It showed us how we support one another when things become uncomfortable. Sometimes perseverance looked like encouragement. Sometimes it looked like silence and simply walking side by side. Sometimes it meant slowing down instead of pushing harder.

That lesson matters far beyond Spain and Portugal. In life, we often celebrate achievement while ignoring endurance. We admire the finish line but overlook the discipline required to keep going when things become difficult. The Camino reminded me that perseverance is rarely dramatic. Most of the time, it is quiet. It is choosing to continue despite discomfort. It is trusting that progress is still progress, even when the destination feels far away.

But the Camino was not only about perseverance. It was also about reflection. There is something powerful about having hours each day to think without interruption. Walking gave me space to reflect not only on faith, but also on purpose, who I am becoming, what truly matters, and how I want to spend the years ahead. Somewhere between Porto and Santiago, I realized that purpose is not usually discovered in one lightning-bolt moment. More often, it reveals itself slowly through movement, challenge, connection, and reflection.

The Camino teaches you that growth happens step by step. Not instantly. Not perfectly. Step by step.

Reaching Santiago de Compostela was emotional in a way I did not fully expect. After years of carrying this dream, we had finally arrived. But like many meaningful journeys, the greatest gift was not the ending. It was everything the road taught us along the way.

I started this journey because it had been on my bucket list since 2011. I finished it with something far more valuable than crossing off a goal. I left with deeper faith, renewed clarity, and an even stronger bond with my daughter, proof that some journeys change you not because of how far you travel, but because of who walks beside you.

As meaningful as that first Camino was, something unexpected happened after I returned home: I started thinking about the next one. This time, I’m planning to walk from Sarria to Santiago de Compostela,  and this journey will be different because I’ll be doing it alone. That decision surprises some people. After such a powerful shared experience with my daughter, why walk the Camino solo?

Because the first Camino taught me that there are some lessons you discover together, and others you can only discover when you are alone with your own thoughts.

Walking from Porto to Santiago showed me the strength of connection, partnership, and shared perseverance. It reminded me how deeply meaningful it is to have someone beside you through difficult moments. But it also awakened something else in me: the need for solitude, reflection, and personal challenge.

There’s something intimidating about setting out alone on a journey like this. No familiar conversation during the long stretches. No one to help carry the emotional weight of difficult days. Just me, the road, and whatever thoughts surface along the way.

And maybe that’s exactly the point.

The Camino is often described as a pilgrimage, but I’ve come to believe it is also a mirror. It reveals what distracts us, what grounds us, what we avoid, and what we truly need. My first Camino strengthened the bond between my daughter and me. I have no doubt this second Camino will challenge me in entirely different ways.

But that is why I’m going.

Not because it will be easy.
Not because it looks inspiring in photos.
But because growth rarely happens inside comfort.

Somewhere between Sarria and Santiago, I know there will be moments of exhaustion, silence, doubt, gratitude, clarity, and reflection. And just like the first journey, I suspect the most important part will not be arriving in Santiago de Compostela itself.

It will be who I become on the road getting there.  Check out some of the best moments of our Camino here.

How Fund for Teachers HasTransformed My Professional Learning Journey

One of the most impactful professional learning opportunities I have experienced has been through Fund for Teachers. Unlike traditional professional development, Fund for Teachers empowers educators to design their own learning experiences based on their passions, goals, and the needs of their students. Through the fellowship application process, educators create a proposal for a self-designed learning experience that can take place anywhere in the world. The goal is simple but powerful: support teachers in pursuing meaningful experiences that ultimately bring richer learning back to their schools and communities. For me, Fund for Teachers has opened doors far beyond what I ever imagined. It has allowed me not only to grow professionally, but also to connect with incredible educators, museum experts, historians, storytellers, and community leaders from around the world. 

One unforgettable experience took me to Húsavík, where I learned firsthand about environmental conservation efforts led by NGOs, as well as cultural and heritage preservation initiatives. Being able to engage directly with experts and organizations working to protect both natural environments and cultural history gave me a deeper understanding of how education, storytelling, and preservation are all connected.

This summer, my journey continues as I head to Greece to study best practices in special education and inclusion. I’ll be exploring ways schools and organizations support autistic and ADHD students while learning strategies that can help create more inclusive, supportive learning environments back home. Alongside this work, I’ll also be immersing myself in Greek culture, history, and mythology, experiences that will further enrich both my professional and personal learning.

What I love most about Fund for Teachers is that it recognizes educators as learners, researchers, and innovators. It gives teachers the freedom to pursue experiences that are authentic, meaningful, and transformative.

If you are an educator with a passion, idea, or dream for professional learning, I strongly encourage you to explore the fellowship opportunity. The application for Fund for Teachers typically opens in the fall, and it truly has the potential to change not only your teaching, but your entire perspective on learning and the world.

Learn more about Fund for Teachers. 

What Travel Taught Me About Teaching

Travel has shaped who I am, just as much as my work in education. I’ve been fortunate to visit places like Italy, France, the Netherlands, Poland, Spain, Morocco, Portugal, England, Denmark, Austria, Sweden, Estonia, St. Petersburg, the Czech Republic, Mexico, Canada, Iceland, Ireland, and I’m soon heading to Greece. Along the way, I’ve also explored the Caribbean: Aruba, Barbados, St. Kitts, St. Lucia, Turks and Caicos, Curaçao, St. Maarten, Dominica, and Antigua.

And every single place has taught me something different.

Travel has a way of humbling you in the best way. It reminds you pretty quickly that there isn’t just one way to do things, one way to live, or one way to see the world. That’s something I carry with me into my classroom every day. My students come with their own stories, cultures, and experiences, and I try to meet them with the same openness I’ve learned to travel with.

It’s also made me more patient and more curious. When you’re trying to figure out a train system in a different language, ordering food you can’t quite pronounce, or just getting intentionally “lost” in a new city, you learn to slow down and pay attention. I try to bring that same energy into learning, where it’s okay not to have all the answers right away, and where questions matter just as much as outcomes.

And honestly, some of the best learning I’ve ever done hasn’t come from museums or monuments, it’s come from small moments. Conversations with people, shared meals, watching everyday life unfold in a place completely different from my own. That’s the part I try to recreate in my teaching: connection, humanity, and real-world relevance.

Travel keeps reminding me that education isn’t just about content. It’s about helping students see beyond their world while also valuing the one they already bring with them.

5 Grants Every Teacher Should Know About

If there’s one thing I’ve learned as an educator, it’s that big ideas don’t always need big budgets, they need the right support. Over the years, grants have opened doors for me that I never thought possible, from international travel to deeply meaningful classroom projects. If you’re a teacher with ideas you just haven’t had the funding for yet, these are five grants worth knowing about. Always have someone proofread your application before you submit it.

• Fund for Teachers

https://fundforteachers.org

This one is personal. Fund for Teachers allows educators to design their own professional learning experiences anywhere in the world. I’ve used this grant to explore learning through travel and cultural immersion, and it truly changes how you see both teaching and learning. It’s not just funding—it’s freedom to grow as an educator in a way that’s completely self-designed.

• Lilly Endowment Teacher Creativity Fellowship (Indiana)

https://lillyendowment.org

As an Indiana educator, this is one of the most meaningful opportunities available. The Lilly Teacher Creativity Fellowship supports teachers in pursuing personal and professional renewal projects—anything from travel and research to creative exploration. It’s about stepping outside the day-to-day and reconnecting with why you teach in the first place. I'm applying this year!

• NEA Foundation Learning & Leadership Grants

https://www.neafoundation.org

These grants support professional development and classroom innovation for public school teachers. Whether it’s attending a conference, designing a new learning experience, or collaborating with colleagues, NEA helps bring ideas to life that directly impact students. We will be interviewing a previsou recipient on The Traveling Teacher podcast. Stay tuned!

• DonorsChoose

https://www.donorschoose.org

Most teachers already know this one, but it’s still one of the most powerful tools out there. You post a classroom project, and donors help make it happen. It’s simple, flexible, and often the fastest way to get resources directly into students’ hands. They cover a fixed amount of lodging, travel, and food for conferences. This is how I was able to attend ASCD in Boston.

• NEH Summer Programs for Teachers (National Endowment for the Humanities)

https://www.neh.gov

These are immersive, content-rich summer institutes across the country (and sometimes abroad) that allow teachers to study history, literature, and culture in depth with scholars and peers. I love these because they remind you what it feels like to be a learner again. They have tons of programs every summer, the list usually comes out late fall and applications close early in the spring. 

Grants aren’t just about funding—they’re about possibility. They’re about taking the ideas you’ve been carrying around in your head and finally saying, yes, let’s do this.

Why Teachers Need Adventure Too 

There’s this idea that teachers are supposed to always be in “giving mode”, pouring into students, showing up prepared, holding everything together. And don’t get me wrong, we do that every day. But somewhere in there, I’ve learned something I don’t think gets talked about enough: teachers need adventure too.

For me, adventure has looked like travel. It’s been standing in places like Italy, Iceland, Morocco, Spain, and Greece and realizing how small, and how connected, the world really is. It’s been getting a little lost in new cities, trying food I can’t pronounce, and figuring things out as I go. And honestly, it’s been some of the best professional development I’ve ever had.

Because adventure changes how you see everything.

It reminds you that learning doesn’t only happen inside a classroom. It happens in conversations with strangers, in museums, in train stations, in quiet moments where you’re just taking everything in. And when you bring that back to teaching, something shifts. You become more flexible. More curious. More willing to let students explore instead of just follow directions.

Adventure also has a way of restoring you. Teaching is heart work, and if we’re not careful, we can run on empty. Getting out into the world, whether that’s a big international trip or a simple weekend road trip with my family and our dog, fills that space back up. It gives you stories. It gives you perspective. It reminds you who you are outside of your role.

And I think that matters more than we admit.

Because when teachers live fully, students feel that. They feel the energy, the curiosity, the stories, and the joy that comes from a life that isn’t only defined by work. I want my students to know that learning is everywhere, and I also want them to see that their teacher is still learning, still exploring, still becoming.

So yes, teachers need lesson plans. We need data. We need structure. But we also need adventure. Not as a luxury, but as part of staying inspired in the work we do every day.