There was a weird moment recently in my teaching career. I was no longer the young colleague whispering in the back of a meeting, exchanging eye-rolls with the person beside me. I was no longer the one looking around for someone else to explain that new initiative.

All of a sudden, people started looking towards me! 

For instance, our school announced that we were a UDL school. Soon after, worried colleagues approached me privately. They didn’t understand the framework. They weren’t sure what it meant for their instructional practice. Years earlier, those might have been the people I complained with over coffee. Now they needed my help.

So I had to step up. I created and delivered a series of UDL workshops to the faculty. To supplement the sessions, I managed a bulletin board with examples, strategies, and practical guidance. Later, when our school strengthened our focus on belonging, I did the same thing. And, when colleagues were growing concerned about student behavior, I helped to develop and get our secondary advisory program off the ground.

What changed was not my job title (I was never the official leader in the room), what changed was how experience had repositioned me in the eyes of my colleagues. Experience becomes a kind of credibility. And, whether you ask for it or not, others begin to place trust in you.

This change in the perception of me also changed my classroom presence.

For years, humor and sarcasm were tools I used to lower tension and build relationships. But humor is relational, and relationships are shaped by age and perception. The same sarcastic comment from a younger teacher can feel playful. From an older teacher, it can land as meanness. Communication researchers often note that humor depends heavily on status, tone, and audience interpretation, not necessarily the intention.

So, once again, I had to evolve. I had to become warmer and calmer, trading my edginess for steadiness.

That has been one of the strangest parts of aging in education: realizing you cannot keep using the version of yourself that worked ten years ago.

Everything changes: students, schools, culture. And that means if we want to remain effective and relevant, we have to change too. 

Ed X!