For most of my life, I believed my calling would always be fulfilled inside a classroom. I poured my heart into teaching. My day-to-day life was filled with guiding young minds, nurturing their confidence and helping them discover the power of learning. But life has a way of redirecting us, sometimes gently and sometimes through a storm. My redirection was a storm of health challenges. Those health challenges forced me to retire earlier than I ever imagined.
After 18 years of teaching, I was diagnosed with stage four kidney disease and was told that I’d have to begin dialysis immediately and start testing to initiate the transplant process. I’d faced health challenges before as I was born with spina bifida, which is a birth condition that results in the spine and spinal cord not forming completely during early development. Because of that, the nerves in the lower part of the body may function differently, which can affect mobility, bladder or bowel function, and overall strength. The effects can vary: some people walk independently, some use mobility aids and others have more significant medical needs.
Many, like me, live full and thriving lives with the right support and care. I have an amazing mother, who taught me the power of prayer and she never skipped a beat in providing me with top-notch care while also making sure every doctor we encountered followed suit. While living with spina bifida, I was also battling rheumatoid arthritis, migraine headaches, high blood pressure and anxiety. With this new diagnosis, I felt totally and completely defeated and I knew I was unable to fulfill the varying day to day duties as a third grade classroom teacher. I was extremely ill, exhausted and emotionally devastated because I had to retire from a profession that I loved. I knew that I needed to finally slow down and take care of my own body. While at home and not teaching, I found myself standing in the unfamiliar space of “What now?”
What I didn’t realize then was that the classroom had already prepared me for my next “teaching” assignment. After many lifestyle changes rooted in hope and faith, and caring for my whole being through my 3M System—meals, meditation and movement—my health was restored and my friends urged me to teach them how I did it.
Today, I teach yoga, meditation, nutrition and holistic practices to women here in Jackson, Mississippi. And every time I guide someone through a breath, a stretch or a moment of stillness, I feel the presence of the teacher I’ve always been. The skills I developed over years in education didn’t disappear—they simply found a new home.
Teachers are experts in reading the room. We can sense anxiety, frustration or confusion without a word being spoken. Those same instincts now help me recognize when a woman is holding her breath out of stress, when she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders or when she just needs a moment of compassion more than she needs a pose.
Classroom management taught me structure and consistency, two things that are essential in wellness work. Whether it’s planning a yoga sequence, developing a nutrition lesson or writing and recording a guided meditation, I rely on the same tools I once used to help children thrive: self-guided study, research, clarity, patience and a simple but steady routine.
Of all the skills I learned, I believe one of the most valuable transferable skills I cultivated is sincere encouragement. Teachers are professional hope-givers. We see potential before it blooms, oftentimes before the student even believes it themselves. Now in my yoga studio, EllaRose Yoga, I get to remind women that their bodies are not failing them. I get to reassure them that healing is possible, that change is possible and that their stories are not over. I know because I live it!
Whole being care became my ministry the moment I realized that much of healing happens while embraced in community. The same way we uplift children through support systems, accountability and shared confidence, we must uplift each other as adults, especially women who carry their families, their communities and often their own unspoken pain.
My journey wasn’t a career change—it was a continuation. A teacher never stops teaching. We simply evolve with the seasons of our lives.
And in this season of my life, God has allowed me to guide others back to themselves. To help them breathe again, reconnect their minds and bodies and rediscover the strength that was already within them.
If there’s one lesson my transition has taught me, it’s this: Every skill we learn in life will serve us later. Nothing is wasted. Not one moment. Not one challenge. Sometimes the path shifts, but the purpose remains the same.
I’m still teaching. Just a different subject matter, with the same heart and love for learning, growth and development.
When faced with the difficult task of slowing down due to a hardship, illness or difficult situation, try to see past the pain and find the beauty in what you’re going through. Oftentimes, the pain or the fear associated with what’s going on is so loud that we have a hard time noticing the quiet beauty that’s also present.
Looking back, I wish I’d noticed that God was preparing me for a new walk in life. I wish I’d noticed the beauty in being home, finally getting the rest that I’d so urgently needed. Or that I was able to enjoy breakfast with my husband before he went to work and leisurely get my children ready for school and also be there to hear about their day when they made it home from school. I would sit and talk with God all day, meditating on his word and listening to his guidance in what I needed to study and implement in order to help my body heal.
For those currently on your healing journey, I see you and I understand—fighting, learning and pursuing your healing with all of your might. One day, just like me, you’ll look back on those days of immense pain and see the “gift of healing” was there all along just waiting on you to release what no longer served you so you could find it.
This MFP Voices opinion essay reflects the personal opinion of its author(s). The column does not necessarily represent the views of the Mississippi Free Press, its staff or board members. To submit an opinion for the MFP Voices section, send up to 1,200 words and sources fact-checking the included information to voices@mississippifreepress.org. We welcome a wide variety of viewpoints.
