In the Wake of Teachers: Reflecting on the Year of the Teacher
Written by Liz Toftness
When I watched Janel, Marcie, and Nicole reveal the theme for the 2025-2026 reading year of Well-Read Mom on social media, I cried. The reaction surprised me; it felt almost overly dramatic. But as I sat and reflected on what teachers have meant to me, the deeply emotional response made sense.
I am a homeschool graduate—my mother was my teacher for my entire academic life. Part of my emotional response came from thinking of her—her patience and pioneering spirit, at a time when not many were choosing to educate their children at home. I also thought of my first Sunday school teacher, Mrs. Velsely, who invested so much in our little souls. Other heroes passed through my memory in a flash, generating tears of gratitude. I am who I am because I have been taught.
My reflection brought me to the present—to those now teaching my own children.
After eight years of homeschooling my own growing brood, my husband and I made what felt like a radical decision: we enrolled them in public school. Aside from an awkward day shadowing my cousin at her high school, this was my first real encounter with that world.
The decision may have seemed extreme, but so were the circumstances that led us there. On the first day of the 2019 school year, when I was preparing to teach seventh, fourth, second, and kindergarten all at once, we discovered we would welcome Toftness baby number five in mid-April, 2020. Anyone who has homeschooled through April in Minnesota knows the challenge: gray skies outside, restless energy inside, and the near-impossibility of coaxing meaningful work from children who have cooped up since November. The fortitude required to extract a minuscule amount of book learning is comparable to Joan of Arc’s iron constitution.
Reflecting on the many long, difficult springs we had weathered, when my best directive was, “For science, go outside and see how thick the ice is over those puddles you jumped in yesterday,” led me to an honest assessment of my children’s ages and my own limits. There were subjects I simply could not teach well. So, off they went.
To say I was I was afraid would be an understatement. What if the kids were bullied? What if they lost their faith? What if they were so far behind (because we never got to math after lunch), and they had to repeat first grade? What if something terrible happened? My fears lessened when, one sleepless night, I heard the heart of God say to my heart, “Do you think you can protect them better than I can?”
I felt a relief that was not only deeply spiritual but also physical. I realized that surrender would be required of me no matter where my children learned—whether in our paper-craft-filled schoolroom or in the public school classrooms. Letting go was not about location; it was about trust.
That was six years ago.
This past fall, we sent our oldest to college in Duluth, where he is studying engineering. And the baby whose covid-lockdown entrance prompted the upheaval of a familiar way of life began kindergarten. Even now, writing this, I tear up feeling the ache and beauty of it all. It has been a hard year of surrender.
And, it has also been a year of profound joy.
There is the joy of visiting our son Oliver on his nineteenth birthday, watching him and his friends clear the dinner table, seeing the evidence of the values and wisdom so many teachers have poured into him. There is the joy of visiting Mrs. Irving’s kindergarten class and listening as she patiently leads a group of eager five-year-olds through the alphabet.
I am so thankful for the teachers in my life—both figuratively and literally. To be taught requires humility. It asks us to admit we do not know and to trust someone else to guide us. But loosening my grip on what I thought I knew opened me to experience a fuller, richer way of living, full of mystery.
This Year of the Teacher brought amazing books and helped deepen friendships. Well-Read Mom has been a teacher for me, awakening my awareness to a need for growth, for change, for empathy.
May we remain open. May we become lifelong learners. And may we live always in the beautiful wake of patient teachers.
About Liz Toftness
Liz Toftness grew up in the Crosby area and had the joy of being a student in Marcie’s colorful homeschool literature class. Besides reading and discussing good books, she enjoys gardening, biking, skiing, and adventuring with her family. She and her husband work together at their cabinet and interior design company in Brainerd, MN where they live with their five kids.
About Well-Read Mom
In Well-Read Mom, women read more and read well. Our hope is to deepen the awareness of meaning hidden in each woman’s daily life, elevate the cultural conversation, and revitalize reading literature from books. If you would like to have us help you select worthy reading material, we invite you to join and read along with us. We are better together! For information on how to start or join a Well-Read Mom group visit our website wellreadmom.com
