The Pursuit of Excellence: Thirteen Years, a Thousand Steps, and the Courage to Stay

Last week, I stood on a stage at the CIE Academic Showcase and received the Pursuit of Excellence Award.

I smiled. I said thank you. I felt deeply honored.

But if I’m being honest, my mind didn’t go to the banner, the applause, or even the word excellence.

It went back to the very beginning.

To folding chairs. To borrowed spaces. To unanswered questions. To grief. To courage that didn’t feel brave at the time...just necessary.

This award may have been handed to me in a single moment, but it represents thirteen years of choosing to stay, to believe, and to keep showing up for my school and community, no matter how uncertain the road became.

What “Pursuit” Really Means

The word pursuit is powerful.

By definition, pursuit means the act of striving toward something over time—not arriving, not conquering, not perfecting—but continually moving forward with intention.

The pursuit of excellence is not flashy. It’s not instant. And it’s rarely easy.

It is slow. It is steady. It is choosing consistency when quitting would be easier. It is commitment when recognition is nowhere in sight.

Excellence is not one decision: it is thousands of small ones, made day after day, often in silence.

The Early Years: A School Without a Home

When Lowcountry Leadership Charter School opened its doors, we were labeled many things.

One of them, by the Post and Courier—was “homeless.”

And in a logistical sense, we were.

Delayed construction. Temporary locations. Constant transitions.

In year one alone, we operated out of three different locations. Every move required reworking schedules, transportation, staffing, parent communication, and student routines—while still being expected to deliver excellence.

There were moments when the instability felt overwhelming. Moments when doubt crept in.Moments when excellence felt like an unreasonable expectation.

But leadership doesn’t pause because circumstances are hard. It sharpens because of them.

We pressed forward anyway.

Growth with Purpose: Building a K–12 Vision

As the school stabilized, the vision expanded.

We didn’t want to be just a school. We wanted to be a K–12 pathway. A place where students could grow, belong, and lead from kindergarten to graduation.

That meant advocating. That meant pushing. That meant dreaming bigger than what existed at the time.

Growth is uncomfortable. Growth invites scrutiny. Growth requires courage—especially in the charter world.

But excellence demands that you look beyond what is and commit to what could be.

Becoming Principal in a Pandemic

In 2020, I stepped into the role of School Leader.

Just as the world shut down.

No playbook. No roadmap. No precedent.

Just students who needed stability. Teachers who needed reassurance. Families who needed leadership.

Navigating COVID as a brand-new principal required decisiveness paired with empathy, high expectations paired with grace, and leadership rooted in humanity.

It was exhausting. It was humbling. It was defining.

Excellence during a crisis doesn’t look like perfection, it looks like presence.

Leadership and Loss: Grief That Walks Beside You

In 2016, I lost my husband to cancer.

Grief doesn’t ask permission. It doesn’t care about job titles or responsibilities. It simply arrives—and stays.

I became a single parent while continuing to lead a school. I learned how to hold meetings while holding heartbreak. How to make decisions while carrying loss.

And still, there were children counting on me. A staff looking for steadiness. A mission that mattered too much to abandon.

I didn’t pursue excellence in spite of grief. I pursued it alongside grief.

Because excellence, at its core, is about love. And love endures.

The Quiet Discipline of Consistency

What people often miss about excellence is this:

It isn’t loud. It isn’t fast. It doesn’t always feel rewarding.

Excellence is consistency when motivation fades. Commitment when applause is absent. Courage when progress feels painfully slow.

For thirteen years, I have believed that slow and steady courage changes schools.

That showing up matters. That doing the right thing repeatedly matters. That culture is built not in moments—but in habits.

Gratitude for the Journey

This award does not belong to me alone.

It belongs to:

• The students who trusted us through change

• The educators who believed when belief was hard

• The families who stood by us

• The colleagues and mentors who poured into me

• The child who reminds me every day why leadership must be human

I am deeply grateful: for the trials, the lessons, the growth, and even the pain. Each chapter shaped the leader I am today.

Still in the Pursuit

Receiving the Pursuit of Excellence Award is not a finish line.

It is a reminder.

A reminder that excellence is never complete. That leadership is never finished. That the work—meaningful, challenging, beautiful work—continues.

Thirteen years in, I am still pursuing. Still believing. Still committed.