Jennifer Clark didn’t start out in education. In fact, her degree was in law enforcement, and after graduating from Western Illinois University, she moved to St. Louis for a job with the Department of Veterans Affairs. But something didn’t feel right. The work was routine, impersonal. It wasn’t her calling.

“I’m just more of a people person,” she says. “I realized I wanted to be part of something that mattered more to me.”

So she came home—to Macomb. Or, more precisely, to the place that became home.

“We moved around a lot when I was a kid,” she explains. “But this was the first place that really felt like home.”

Twenty-eight years later, Jennifer is still here—now co-teaching at MacArthur Early Childhood Center, a place she never imagined she'd return to after spending years teaching kindergarten and second grade at Lincoln. But after COVID, she felt the pull. “I just needed a change,” she says. “And coming back to MacArthur was the right one.”

Today, she shares a classroom with fellow teacher Mallory Kessler, and together, they’ve created a dynamic teaching partnership built on mutual respect, shared vision, and clear communication. “We both have strengths and similar philosophies,” Jennifer says. “We plan everything together, teach together, and support each other in everything we do.”

The benefits of that kind of team teaching are huge—especially in early childhood education, where the learning environment is built not just on content, but on trust, routine, and responsiveness. If a student needs extra support, one teacher can step in without disrupting the flow of the day. If one of them is out sick, the classroom continues without missing a beat. “When I had to have my gallbladder out, I didn’t have to worry,” Jennifer says. “Mallory and Carrie were there. And it’s the same when she’s out. That consistency matters.”

MacArthur’s classrooms are filled with energy—morning and afternoon sessions that each serve nearly twenty students. Many of those students have high needs, and Jennifer is quick to credit the school’s support staff for helping meet them. “We have some incredible program assistants,” she says. “They’re every bit as important as the teachers. We just couldn’t do what we do without them.”

Still, she’s realistic about the challenges. “Substitutes are hard to find. And keeping qualified assistants isn’t always easy. When we get good people, we want to keep them.”

What drives her work after nearly three decades in the field?

“Early childhood is where the foundation is built,” she says. “It’s not just about ABCs and 123s. It’s about giving kids the communication skills, the social-emotional readiness, and the basic structure they need to learn later on.”

That conviction is backed by experience—years of watching students arrive with big energy and bigger needs, and leave more confident, more equipped, and more excited to learn.

It’s also backed by love.

“I love the little ones,” she says. “I couldn’t teach junior high. Everybody has their niche, and this is mine.”

It helps that the work is part of something larger. Jennifer speaks with genuine pride about the broader Macomb Schools team and their commitment to vertical alignment—working closely with kindergarten teachers at Lincoln to ensure smooth transitions, shared expectations, and an understanding of where students are coming from and where they’re going.

“We do meet with kindergarten every year,” she explains. “We talk about what we’re teaching, what they’re expecting, and how we can help students be ready.”

There’s a sense of continuity in the district—a sense that everyone’s rowing in the same direction. Jennifer sees it. She lives it. And she’s grateful for the stability that Macomb offers.

“I visit my brother in Thousand Oaks, outside L.A.,” she says, “and I’m always like—nope, take me back to Colchester. That’s not for me.”

In a world that often seems to value flash over substance, Jennifer Clark stands as a quiet reminder that meaning lives in the day-to-day, the hands-on, the shared work of shaping young lives. She didn’t plan to end up here. But it’s where she belongs. And it’s where futures begin.