If you walk into Chris Wenstrom’s third-grade classroom at King Elementary, you’ll find a plaque on the wall that says just that: You matter to this world. And if you stick around long enough, you’ll realize it’s more than a decoration—it’s the way she teaches, the way she leads, and the way she’s lived for more than three decades inside the same school she once attended as a child.

Born and raised in Galesburg, Chris is a proud Silver Streak alum, a Class of 1989 graduate who went off to Augustana College with a degree in education and a clear-eyed goal: to return home and give back to the place that raised her. “I interviewed with Dr. Cope right out of college,” she says, “and I remember saying, ‘I’m from here—and I want to come back.’”

That sincerity stuck. She got the job—and she’s been at King School ever since.

For 15 years, she taught fourth grade, then transitioned into third, where she’s now logged another 17 years. “I loved fourth grade,” she says, “but third… there’s something special about this year. They’re still wide-eyed, still willing to sing, dance, and throw themselves into learning without holding back.”

It’s a critical developmental stage, and Chris treats it as such. “Third grade is when kids start reading to learn instead of learning to read,” she explains. “They’re forming habits and confidence that will carry them forward for the rest of their lives.”

Her students aren’t the only ones who’ve come full circle. Several of her former students are now colleagues, including Heather Barker and Shalane Worden, both of whom teach in the building. Even her former student teacher, Jessica Jones, now works in the district. “It’s a beautiful thing,” Chris says. “To see them grow up, come back, and pour into the same community—it fills me with pride.”

That pride is deeply personal. Chris’s family roots run deep in Galesburg and even deeper at King. Her grandmother, Grace Ennis, was a teacher. Her siblings and cousins all attended the same school. And today, she lives on a farm just outside of town, with her husband of 29 years—a man she first met as a child at a neighborhood snowmobile party.

Their two grown children have thrived—one a mechanical engineer for Case New Holland, the other a law school graduate from the University of Virginia. “It’s not lost on me,” Chris says, “that they were shaped by the work ethic of both a teacher and a farmer. It’s a good combination.”

That work ethic has meant long hours and emotional weight. “You have to love your students deeply,” she says, “but you also have to learn how to leave room for your own family when the day is over. That balance—it’s hard, but necessary.”

Chris has seen the district evolve. She speaks with admiration for Galesburg’s diversity, its rich rail and farming history, and its storied basketball culture. “It’s easy to focus on what’s been lost—jobs, economic shifts,” she says. “But there’s so much here to celebrate. The resilience of this place is real.”

Resilience is a word that fits her well, too. After 32 years in the classroom, she plans to retire in two—but not before giving everything she has to the students in front of her.

“I want to finish strong,” she says. “These kids deserve it. They’ll only be this age once. It’s our job to show up fully—for them and for their future.”

And when she’s done? “Maybe I’ll garden. Maybe I’ll babysit grandkids. My husband jokes about teaching me to drive the combine,” she laughs.

Whatever’s next, Chris Wenstrom knows she’s already left a mark. Not just in test scores or curriculum maps—but in hearts.

Because in her classroom, every child hears the message:

You matter.

And they believe it, because she believes it first.