In the kindergarten classrooms of Egyptian CUSD 5, there’s a story that’s been unfolding for more than three decades—one that speaks to the kind of loyalty, love, and community spirit you can only find in a place that truly feels like home.

For kindergarten teachers Donna McCain and Angie Gordon, Egyptian has been that home for their entire careers, which they’ll both be finishing out at the end of this school year. Come next May, undoubtedly, there will be tears. The two began teaching here over 30 years ago, fresh from college but deeply rooted in the district’s soil—they had both once walked these same halls as little girls, learning their ABCs in the very classrooms where they would one day teach.

“When I first started,” Donna recalled, “I remember thinking, this is where I belong. It’s where I learned, and now I get to give that back.” Angie shares that same sense of purpose. “You don’t just teach here,” she said. “You grow up here all over again—only this time, you get to help shape someone else’s story.”

Over the years, Donna and Angie have not just taught countless kindergarteners how to read, count, and share—they’ve taught them how to feel safe, how to believe in themselves, and how to see school as a place where they belong. It’s the kind of impact that’s hard to measure but impossible to miss.

And sometimes, the ripple of that impact circles right back.

Emmalea Jones knows that firsthand. As a little girl, she sat cross-legged on the carpet in Donna’s class, soaking up her lessons and kindness. Today, she stands at the front of her own classroom just down the hall, teaching first graders and carrying forward the same spirit she learned all those years ago.

“It’s surreal,” Emmalea said with a smile. “I remember being in these rooms, and now we’re co-workers. These women were role models for me—not just as teachers, but as people. The way they treated us as kids… that’s the way I want my students to feel with me.”

Donna and Angie have seen the school change over the years—the technology, the teaching methods, the faces of new colleagues. But what hasn’t changed is the closeness of the Egyptian community and the way people here show up for one another. Parents, grandparents, and even former students are part of the support system that makes their work possible.

“That’s the beauty of teaching in a place like this,” Angie said. “We know our families. We know their stories. They know ours. It’s not just a job—it’s a shared life.” And when this school year ends, they will close the doors to the classrooms that have been their second homes, carrying with them decades of moments that shaped their own lives—just as they’ve laid the foundations and shaped the futures of so many students.

When asked what has kept them here for so long, neither hesitated. For Donna, it’s the joy of those “lightbulb moments” when a child suddenly understands something new. For Angie, it’s the relationships—the way students remember you, the way you see them grow into themselves. For both, it’s the deep satisfaction of knowing they’ve been part of something bigger than themselves.

And as for Emmalea, she’s just getting started—but she already knows she’s part of a legacy worth preserving. “I hope I can be that teacher for someone else—the one they remember years later, the one who helped them love learning.”

In Egyptian CUSD 5, the story of these three women is more than a personal journey. It’s proof of what happens when a school becomes more than just a place where lessons are taught—it becomes a place where roots grow deep, generations intertwine, and the heart of a community beats strongest in its classrooms.

For Donna, Angie, and Emmalea, it’s been—and continues to be—a beautiful full-circle story. And for the students who walk through their doors, it’s the start of countless more.