Fall | 2025
A District’s Transformation and a Desk With a View
“If you want a one-on-one experience for your child, this is the place to be.”

Third-grade teacher Jessica Bowman says it with quiet conviction, the kind that doesn’t need to sell you on anything. It’s not a slogan—it’s a truth she’s witnessed every day in her five years at Joppa-Maple Grove. “I only have nine students this year,” she says, smiling. “That means the options are endless for what we can do.”
Beside her sits Donna Rushing, the district secretary whose 16 years of service have spanned two campuses, seven superintendents, and eleven principals. She laughs when she says it, but the number underscores her loyalty. “I was at Maple Grove before the schools combined,” she explains. “When that building was damaged, it just made sense financially to merge. It saved a lot of money.” The two women—one at the front line of instruction, the other at the hub of administration—share the same belief: this small district, against all odds, is thriving because of the people who choose to be here.
Joppa-Maple Grove isn’t flashy. There’s no Olympic pool or all-weather track. But what it does have is depth—the kind of connection that comes from teachers who know their students’ siblings, their grandparents, even their dogs. “Our families have been here for generations,” Donna says. “We know them. They value this school enough to fight for it.”
That fight became literal a few years ago, when the community faced the possibility of losing its independence through consolidation. “People went to the ballot box and said no,” Jessica recalls. “They wanted to stay Joppa-Maple Grove. That was huge.” It wasn’t just a vote for local control—it was a declaration of identity.
Inside the classrooms, that identity feels personal. With such small numbers, Bowman can tailor lessons to her students’ pace and curiosity. In her room, math might turn into a hands-on engineering challenge; reading might evolve into a small-group discussion that feels more like conversation than instruction. “We can go deeper,” she says. “I can focus on what each child needs. It’s a big year—third grade is when they learn how to be big kids.”
Rushing sees the other side of that experience. Her desk is where numbers meet names—activity accounts, state reports, payroll—but also where need meets compassion. “There’ve been years I probably spent as much as I made,” she admits, not boastfully but as a matter of fact. “Helping kids at Christmas, buying shoes or coats, getting them a backpack. It’s not that parents don’t want to—it’s that they can’t. And you can’t just sit there and watch a child go without.”
Her generosity, like that of many staff members, reflects a deeper current running through the district’s culture. In a place where poverty is real and special needs are common, compassion becomes strategy. “We have a high percentage of special-needs students,” Jessica explains. “And a lot of our families are living in poverty. But that’s what makes this work meaningful. We get to help them find their own light.”
That light has grown brighter in recent years under the district’s Elevate38 initiative—a commitment to modernizing programs, boosting morale, and reminding the wider community that great things are happening in Joppa. “It’s about positive change,” Donna says. “Not because the past was bad—we had wonderful leaders—but because we’re learning from it and moving forward.” Jessica nods in agreement. “People used to think Joppa wasn’t doing much,” she says. “Now, we’re showing that we’re just as good as anybody else. Our kids are great.”
That pride shows up everywhere—from the new STEAM lab that’s drawing students from every grade level, to the homegrown support that surrounds each child like family. It’s visible in the teachers who show up early to tutor, in the staff who spend weekends decorating hallways, and in the community that fills the parking lot for every festival and fish fry. “We don’t have a lot,” Donna says, “but what we do have, we make the most of.”
The bond between Bowman and Rushing mirrors the district itself: two different roles, united by purpose. “We’re making a difference here,” Jessica says softly. “That’s why people stay. You feel it when you walk in—you know you matter.”
Donna smiles, a veteran’s grin that carries the weight of sixteen years and the joy of knowing it was worth every one. “We’ve seen a lot of change,” she says, “but the best part is seeing what’s next. This team right now—Dr. Goins, Mrs. Wood—they’re moving us forward. And we’re all in.”
At Joppa-Maple Grove, progress doesn’t always look like new buildings or big budgets. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a teacher who knows every child’s story, or a secretary who quietly buys a coat for a student who needs one. It’s the small, steady work of people who believe in their community—and who keep proving that the smallest schools can still have the biggest hearts.
