This is Mr. Funky Teacher with BeAFunkyTeacher.com. I’m coming to you with another Be a Funky Teacher podcast. Day 3 is in the books. Day 3 of the National Teacher Leadership Conference 2025, Ignite the Magic, in Orlando, Florida, is officially done. It was a spectacular day—spectacular because of the fellowship, the conversations with fellow educators, the presentations, and, of course, the food. The food was delicious as well. I want to take some time to reflect on what the day looked like. We started Day 3 with a wellness walk. This wellness walk was at 7:00 a.m. around the Disney Yacht Club Resort grounds. There’s a boardwalk that goes around by the pool area and through some shops. It’s a really neat area. The conference had organized a wellness walk, and I think there were about eight or nine of us who met at 7:00 a.m. for that early morning walk. I enjoyed the time with these professionals. I enjoyed being outside before it got super hot. It wasn’t cold, and it wasn’t too hot—mid-70s, just right. It was a beautiful way to get outside, move my body, and ease into Day 3. What a great way to start the day. It’s interesting, because not long ago I was listening to a podcast talking about the importance of walking. They cited research suggesting that doing something as simple as walking every day—just a small “micro-choice”—can add years to your life. I don’t remember the exact research they cited, and I’d like to dig into that more in a future episode, but the idea really stuck with me. I know a lot of fitness professionals and medical folks talk about how powerful walking is. Hearing that podcast and then doing a wellness walk at this conference really clicked for me. It reminded me that walking isn’t just good for physical health; it’s good for mental health too. That walk helped me feel relaxed, grounded, and energized. I got to talk with top-notch professionals about teaching, life, and early careers. Those conversations fed my mental health—social connection is powerful. And then there are the physical benefits: movement, fresh air, and a chance to explore the resort grounds. After about 45 minutes of walking, I went back to my room, showered, got cleaned up, checked out of my room, and then did another very important thing: I ate more delicious food. This conference really delivered when it came to food. The Disney Yacht Club Resort kept us well fed. We were not going hungry, and it was high-quality, delicious food. I was very happy to enjoy another great breakfast. Our first session of the day was “Books Not Bullets: Activating Educator Voices for Safe Schools and Communities.” This was led by a woman named Abby Clements. She’s the executive director for Teachers Unify to End Gun Violence, and she was a Sandy Hook teacher. She recently retired from teaching, but on December 14, 2012, she was in that school when a young man walked in and killed six adults and 20 children—26 people total. It was almost an entire first-grade class. Abby is a survivor of that school shooting. She shared about Teachers Unify to End Gun Violence, and she also introduced two other presenters: Sydney Chaffee, a teacher and instructional coach at Codman Academy in Boston, Massachusetts Nicole Green, a teacher from White Plains, New York, and a strong ambassador for Teachers Unify to End Gun Violence They talked about the statistics and realities we’re facing as educators: gun violence in schools, lockdown drills, practice scenarios, and how jarring and traumatic all of this can be for students and teachers. Our reality is that we go to school to teach and learn, and we could go to bed that night with our lives changed forever. During this session, they showed a documentary called Death by Number, created from the perspective of a Parkland shooting survivor, Sam Fuentes. The film followed her experience from the February 14, 2018 shooting in Parkland all the way through the trial and her testimony. It showed the pain and trauma, but also the empowerment of facing the young man who changed her life and the lives of so many families through this act of cruelty. Any school shooting is an act of cruelty and hate. “Enjoyed” isn’t the right word for watching a school shooting documentary, but I did find it deeply impactful. It gave me another dimension of understanding—what it looks like through the eyes of someone who has really been through it. I haven’t lived through a school shooting. I hope I never do. But the reality is that a school shooting could happen anywhere in America. That’s the reality of being a teacher and being a student in this country. The United States has more school shootings than anywhere else in the world, and that’s our current reality. The documentary and Abby’s story helped me feel that more deeply. Sam said something powerful in the film when she addressed the shooter in court: she told him she is stronger than the hate he gives. That’s a powerful line—poetic and, I hope, healing for her in some way. After the film, they posed some questions, like: “How was the lasting impact of gun violence portrayed in the film?” It was clear that the impact is lifelong. Survivors face ongoing mental health challenges, grief that never fully goes away, and a sense that life has been permanently altered. Life can still go on, but it changes—sometimes in ways that make it darker, more fragile, and more complicated. Another question was about teacher–student relationships: “What evidence does the film provide for the impact of higher teacher–student relationships?” That question pushed me to think about how important it is to really know our students—not just academically, but emotionally and behaviorally. If a student seems drawn to violence, is expressing alarming ideas, or acting in ways that feel off, we need to lean into our relationships and advocate for that student to get help. Teachers often know when something’s not right, and we have to be the squeaky wheel until kids get the support they need. Abby reminded us that we can’t just throw up our hands and say, “The system is broken, there’s nothing we can do.” We need to report concerns, build strong relationships, and encourage students themselves to speak up if they see or hear something that seems dangerous. I thought about my previous district in South Sioux City, where we talked to students about “see it, say it.” If you see something that’s not right, say something. That doesn’t fix everything, but it’s better than doing nothing. Abby talked about how educators aren’t really evaluated on rapport with students, but maybe we should be. She also mentioned that educators aren’t always valued for our expertise with kids—and there’s truth to that. Some people get it, but the system as a whole still has a long way to go. She told a story about an administrator she’d had a powerful conversation with about rapport and connection. That administrator later died in the shooting. That was her last conversation with him. Abby created Teachers Unify to End Gun Violence, and “Books Not Bullets” is part of that work. One of their key messages is about secure gun storage—storing guns and ammunition separately, keeping both locked away, and making sure kids don’t have access. They said two-thirds of school shootings involve guns taken from home, where the firearm and ammunition were accessible. That’s heartbreaking because it’s preventable. From what I understood, Teachers Unify is not trying to take away everyone’s guns. They’re focused on safety—safe storage practices, common-sense protections, and keeping guns out of schools. Framed that way, it’s not a partisan issue. It’s about kids’ lives and public health. They also emphasized advocating with policymakers in thoughtful ways—telling stories, writing letters, sending handwritten notes, and following up. We had the opportunity to write postcards to decision makers about school safety and gun storage. One interesting thing: there was a Vermont teacher in the room who also serves in her state legislature. She worked with her principal to draft a bill about school safety. That was inspiring, seeing a teacher literally in the lawmaking space. At the end of that session, they asked how we felt. “Conflicted” is the word that came to mind for me. It feels like an uphill battle, but it’s a battle worth taking on. Doing nothing is not an option if we want safer schools. From there, I went to another powerful session: “Social Emotional Learning for School Leaders.” This session was led by my friend Dr. Brianna Ross, along with Dr. Tisha Holley, Jonathan Shurovic, Elizabeth Fazion, and Jamel Coats. All top-notch individuals. I first met Brianna through a fellowship on equity that she led about a year ago. She’s a principal in Maryland and a strong champion for mental health and SEL. It was so good to see her again, give her a hug, and catch up. They opened with a fun game—first letter/last letter—just to build connection and get everyone laughing. Then they dove into what they’re doing in Prince George’s County, Maryland, around social emotional learning. Prince George’s County serves over 132,000 students. It’s the 18th largest school district in the U.S. and the second largest in Maryland. They’ve built a districtwide SEL program called “Educating Hearts, Inspiring Minds,” and they’ve partnered with a college to design graduate-level coursework that helps develop SEL teams. They treat SEL not as “one more thing” but as part of the fabric of their district. It’s woven into their culture and climate, not just added on top. They focus on: Self-awareness Self-management Relationship skills Responsible decision-making Social awareness They shared how they collect data, including micro-journaling from teachers who are implementing SEL work. They also talked about how they keep SEL visible and prioritized so it doesn’t disappear in the chaos of the school year. As someone who’s believed in social emotional learning from early in my career—even before it was widely talked about—it was refreshing to see this being done at scale. It made me wonder how I can bring pieces of their model into my future school and classroom, even if my district is much smaller. After that session, it was time for lunch—again, they fed us well. Then we had the closing session. During the closing, they did some prize drawings for folks who had been tagging things on social media, and I won a prize—a couple of books. It’s always fun to win something at a conference. They had multiple people speak, including folks from the National Teacher Hall of Fame, one of the sponsors of the conference. The conference organizers expressed how successful they felt the three days had been, and I absolutely agreed. Toward the end, they asked for three volunteers to share final reflections. I raised my hand and was one of the three. That’s not always easy for me—I can be a little shy when I’m not in “teaching” or “presenting” mode—but I felt like I needed to speak. I said that my big takeaway from the conference was hope. On Day 1, John King had reminded us that in dark, challenging times, we can and will get through it. We’ve had hard periods in history before. Many of us feel that we’re in a tough time right now in education—policy decisions, attacks on public schools, the way teachers are treated. It can feel heavy. But I told the group that, even in this dark period, I was leaving with hope. In darkness, there is light. In tough times, there are tough people. And those tough people are teachers. We’re not in this alone. We’re not operating in a silo. We’re in this together—teacher leaders, classroom teachers, leaders, and advocates—and together we can move through this hard season for the sake of our students. Our students will be the ones who benefit from us staying in the work, doing the hard things, and refusing to give up. Afterward, the closing speaker came up and thanked me for what I shared. I was glad I spoke from the heart. To officially wrap things up, they taught us a closing dance with paper fans. I wish I could remember the name of the song, but it was so fun. It was playful, joyful, and a reminder that we can talk about heavy things and still dance, laugh, and have fun together. That’s right up my alley as Mr. Funky Teacher. After the closing, I gave a lot of hugs, took some pictures, and then I had to hustle out because my Lyft was on the way. The conference was over, but I was not done in Florida. Instead of heading to the airport, I picked up a rental minivan because I had planned to stay a few extra days to go stand up paddling—one of my favorite things in the world. My wife was very supportive of me staying to paddle. I got the minivan and drove toward the west side of Florida, specifically the Titusville and Cocoa Beach area. I’ve wanted for years to see intense bioluminescence in the water, and that area is known for it. That night, from about 8:30 to 10:30, I was out solo on my paddleboard on the water near Titusville while tour groups paddled nearby. It was amazing seeing the bioluminescence glow as my paddle and board moved. I slept in the minivan that night—car camping—parked at a Cracker Barrel in Titusville. I had my sleeping bag, my conference clothes in my carry-on and personal item, and my paddling gear in my checked bags: one suitcase for my paddleboard and another for my life jacket and gear. It was a funny mix: conference educator by day, van-life paddler by night. The next morning, I drove from Titusville to Cocoa Beach. It was really important to me to spend time there. Cocoa Beach is where my mom and dad brought my brother and me right after I graduated from college with my teaching degree in May 2003. I had just accepted my first teaching job in South Sioux City—first grade at the time—and my parents asked if I wanted to go anywhere to celebrate. I said yes, let’s go to Florida. We came to Cocoa Beach. It was the first and only time I was at the ocean with my parents. My Aunt Julie, who lives near Tampa, joined us. We sat on the sand, watched the waves, and I rented a surfboard. My parents and brother watched me surf. Now, 23 years later, I found myself back on that same beach. I’ve completed 22 successful years of teaching in South Sioux City, mainly fifth grade at three different schools. I’ve been recognized at school, city, state, regional, and even national levels. I’ve had the honor of being a Nebraska Teacher of the Year finalist. This weekend, I presented at the National Teacher Leadership Conference and was recognized as a teacher leader among teacher leaders. Sitting on Cocoa Beach, looking at the ocean, I felt the weight and beauty of that full circle moment: from a brand-new teacher with a fresh contract to a veteran educator launching a new chapter. I’m excited now to go to Winnebago Public Schools in the fall to teach fifth grade. I wanted a change after 22 years—same grade level, new community. Winnebago is on one of the three reservations in Nebraska, and I feel deeply honored to work with those students, learn from the Ho-Chunk culture, and help give students a better start in life. As I sat there on the beach, watching a crab crawl near me and listening to the waves, I felt grateful. I’m grateful for my wife, Kristine, and our three kids: Mya, Carter, and Gavin. I’m grateful for my dad, Doyle, and my brother, Tim. I’m grateful for the years I had with my mom before she died on Valentine’s Day 2024. She was one of my biggest cheerleaders in life. My family has that “cheer each other on” mindset, but my mom lived it in a special way. She encouraged me when things were tough, believed in me, and celebrated my wins. I miss that. Being back at Cocoa Beach—the only ocean beach I ever shared with her—was emotional. It touched my heart in ways that are hard to fully put into words. I want to honor her legacy of love, kindness, and joy in everything I do as a teacher and as a person. I want to carry her legacy into my classroom in Winnebago, into my relationships with students, colleagues, and families, and into the presentations and projects I take on. I want to keep learning and growing. I don’t know everything, and I don’t want to. I want to stay humble and open so I can keep becoming a better educator. The only thing that would have made that moment on the beach better would have been having my wife, kids, dad, and brother sitting there with me. But even sitting there solo, watching the waves and feeling the breeze, I knew life is good. Even in a challenging world, even in dark times, there is good. If you’ve followed me through this three-day reflection on the National Teacher Leadership Conference, thank you. If you haven’t attended this conference before, I want to encourage you to check it out. It’s open to all educators, not just State Teachers of the Year or finalists. It happens every summer for three days, and it just might give you the shot of energy, hope, and power that it gave me. As I wrap up my time here—paddling, camping, reflecting—and head back to get ready for a new school year, I’m recommitting to inspiring greatness in young people and staying true to who I am as a teacher. Go out there and inspire in the work that you do. Inspire greatness in young people. And remember to be a funky teacher. Bye now.