The Influence We Don't See
How a simple social media post revealed the lasting power of showing up for others.
It started with a simple social media post, something I have long shied away from professionally but find myself drawn to more as the years pass. My daughter’s second-grade teacher shared a message for Teacher Appreciation Week. She invited former students and parents to reply with an update, a memory, or anything from their time together.
I sent her a picture and a note. She had genuinely touched my daughter’s life, and it felt right to say so. But then something else stirred in me. It was a more curious, reflective part that I do not always let lead.
Though it has been over ten years since I stood in a classroom of my own, I put up a similar post on my feed. I honestly was not sure what to expect. Part of me wondered whether anyone would respond at all, whether my former adult students would even see it, or whether the gesture would simply disappear into the scroll.
Maybe it was a quiet curiosity about whether leaving the classroom had been the right decision, the kind of question that visits all of us when we pause long enough to look back at the road we did not take.
Whatever the reason, the post went out just before I went to bed.
· · ·
I woke up in disbelief.
In the span of a few hours, something magical and completely unexpected had happened. There were far more responses than I could have imagined, and not just from students or parents. Staff members and colleagues had written too. They shared memories. They told me where life had taken them, what their children were doing now, and how they still thought about our time together.
Reading each one brought me to a conclusion I had not anticipated: the impact we make is entirely our own. It is irreplaceable. It does not expire when we change roles, leave a building, or move on to the next chapter.
Leaving the classroom was a choice I remain genuinely grateful for. The scope of influence that followed has been broader in many ways, though I know that nothing can replicate those 180 daily moments, those small intersections throughout a school year that quietly shift the direction of a person’s life.
What fills their place are different gifts. A first-year teacher shared that having me in her corner during her earliest days in the profession is something she will never forget. A director of facilities wrote that he still carries the memory of how much care I gave to every person in the building, staff and students alike, during my time as principal.
It is the impact. It is the connections. It is the continuous influence we carry into the world every day through intentional presence, genuine growth, and the simple choice to believe in the people around us.
Education is difficult in 2026. That difficulty is real, and it deserves to be acknowledged. The demands placed on educators, and on every person who chooses to show up for others, are not small.
But choosing to make a difference? Walking through the door with a smile and the belief that the person in front of you is worth your full attention?
That part is never difficult. That part is always available to us.
And it turns out, people remember.
