Winter | 2026
The Byron Alumni Who Arrived at Exactly Where She Was Headed
"It's such a lovely, ordinary, wonderful life... and I'm so glad it happened how it did."

How did a 2004 Byron alumna grow into a convener, a connector, and a whole-community collaborator—all while keeping one foot on home turf? If you ask Caitlin Pusateri where her story begins, she'll tell you it starts in Byron, long before the job titles and board meetings. Back when she was a Ludwig kid roaming hallways where her mom taught, and where everyone knew her dad as the local beekeeper who also ran public works. Back when she learned, almost by osmosis, that you treat your neighbors well because that's how the world should work—whether you meet them at a four-way stop, a classroom doorway, or the Casey's counter.
Byron has always been the kind of place where people learn to see one another. That gift never left Caitlin. She carried it through Illinois Wesleyan, where she majored in Music and Business Administration. Music paid for school, and she loved it enough not to monetize it. That wisdom alone puts her miles ahead of most adults.
After graduating a semester early—right into the Great Recession—she moved home, recalibrated, and began building a life in Rockford. Her first job was at a car dealership. She learned mostly what she didn't want to do, but the job left her hungry for connection. One night, exhausted from Netflix and solitude, she did what any millennial might: she Googled how to make friends as an adult. The answer led her to a young professionals group the Greater Rockford Chamber was forming. She tried to go. Her Garmin told her she had arrived. She definitely had not arrived. She cried. She drove away.
And yet she came back.
It's one of the most Byron things about her—resilience without drama, humility without defeat. She found her way in, joined the board, and rose steadily, becoming the first female president in the Chamber's 112-year history. When the Chamber merged with the Economic Development Council in 2023, she became Chief Operating Officer, guiding one regional organization into its next chapter.
But even with all that, she describes her life not as extraordinary, but as "lovely, ordinary, wonderful." That says more about her grounding than her résumé.
Caitlin's talent for convening people traces straight back to Byron's DNA. She grew up seeing kindness modeled not as an event but as an expectation. She remembers the Ogle County Education Cooperative students who came to Byron for services—and the heated sidewalks built so wheelchairs could access the building in winter. She remembers classmates who didn't look or learn like she did, and how nobody ever mocked them. She remembers a community that took care of its own simply because that's what communities do.
And she remembers the teacher who shaped her most: speech coach and English teacher Angie McHale. Caitlin modeled her life after her—so much so that she even chose to attend the same college. Angie was brazen, principled, creative, and unafraid to push students further than they believed they could go. She let Caitlin attend her wedding. She coached her in speech. She saw her. To this day, Caitlin makes decisions with one quiet checkpoint: Would Angie be proud of me? That's not sentiment; that's compass work.
Caitlin marched into Barnes & Noble as a college student and bought an Emily Post etiquette guide as thick as a dictionary. She realized early that knowing "the language"—when to shake hands, which fork to use—meant showing up in rooms where she didn't feel she belonged.
Today Caitlin lives in Rockton with her husband—a math teacher she jokingly says she had to "import" from Brookfield—and their two children. Six-year-old Marin could "sell ice to an Eskimo," while four-year-old Rowan is pure comedy. "He could be a stand-up comedian, or a plumber," Caitlin says. "Both are great career paths." Rockton reminds her enough of Byron to feel like home, but not so much that it feels like repeating a chapter. She wanted her kids to have the childhood she cherished, just without living on the same streets. And she wanted to be close enough to reach Byron quickly. That, too, fits who she is: rooted, but not tethered.
Ask her what surprises her most, and she'll say she's not surprised by much—except that she gets to have the life she always hoped for. A good husband, hilarious kids, fulfilling work, a family still close-knit, and a community she can return to with ease.
In other words, she did arrive. She just didn't realize it in the moment the Garmin tried to tell her so.
