If you ask Richard and Carlene Johnson, Frank Hopkins, and Patrick Callahan why they dedicate so much of their time to Knoxville schools, their answer isn’t packaged in slogans or strategy. It’s something simpler: they care.

They care about the kids. They care about the schools. They care about the town they’ve lived in, worked in, and raised their families in. And through the Superintendent’s Community Circle, they’ve found a way to keep showing up—for the right reasons.

“It’s not a decision-making group,” says Patrick Callahan, who once served as Knoxville High School principal and spent over a decade on the school board. “We’re not a board. We’re not forming policy. But we are a bridge. We help people understand what’s happening—and why.”

The Community Circle was formed years ago during Callahan’s leadership tenure, inspired by a simple idea: invite thoughtful, engaged residents into the district’s conversations and give them a seat at the table. Over time, it grew into something steady and trusted—a gathering of farmers, educators, churchgoers, parents, and professionals, all bringing their unique lens to school issues.

When Dr. Guerrero became Superintendent, Callahan mentioned the group to her. “I told her it worked well in the past. And she picked it right up. Now it’s become something truly valuable again.”

The group meets quarterly, offering feedback, hearing updates, and surfacing both concerns and bright spots from across the district. But their impact goes beyond the meetings.

“We show up,” says Carlene Johnson, a retired teacher who spent 30 years in Knoxville classrooms and once served as the district’s gifted coordinator. “We go to board meetings. We go to concerts. We go to games. Not just because it’s fun—though it often is—but because our presence matters.”

Her husband, Richard, nods. “Sometimes people don’t know what’s going on. They hear a rumor, and suddenly, things get twisted. We can help clarify. Not as mouthpieces, but as neighbors who care enough to learn the facts and share them.”

That ability to tamp down rumors, explain changes, or offer perspective has become especially important in recent years, after a stretch of superintendent turnover left some public trust frayed. “There was uncertainty,” says Frank Hopkins, a long time farmer and FFA alum. “But now there’s structure again. And we’re here to support that—to help steady the ship.”

Frank’s background in agriculture brings another layer to the group’s value. “I’ve learned more from these meetings than I ever expected,” he says. “And I’ve shared a lot, too—especially about farming, rural life, and what our kids need to thrive here.”

Those insights aren’t just theoretical. The group helped encourage the development of an emergency evacuation plan after noticing its absence. They advocate for arts and music funding. They talk about student needs, family hardships, and the little things that don’t always make it into formal agendas.

“We notice what’s missing,” Carlene says. “Like when a student doesn’t have the right uniform. Or a program loses support. We don’t always have the power to fix it ourselves, but we can make sure the right people know.”

That’s the real genius of the Community Circle: it’s informal, but influential. It’s not about power. It’s about presence. Listening. Sharing. Supporting.

And while they each bring different expertise—mechanics, farming, education, civic life—they’re united by a common conviction: the health of a school district and the health of a community are inseparable.

“People sometimes think the best schools are in the wealthiest zip codes,” Richard says. “But the best school is your school—if you show up for it.”

That’s what they’ve done for years. That’s what they’ll keep doing. Quietly. Faithfully. Without applause or agenda.

Just like any true circle does—it holds.