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A community engagement initiative of Galesburg CUSD 205.

Winter | 2026

From the Islands to Illinois: Mr. Tai’s Unexpected Journey

“I’ve always wanted my kids to grow up in a small community—somewhere people know each other.”
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Long before Fesootai “Tai” Papali‘i stood in front of a Galesburg classroom teaching emergent technologies, he stood under Hawaiian skies with a football in his hands and a future pointed squarely toward Division I athletics. His story spans oceans and cultures—Samoan, Hawaiian, Portuguese—and now includes something he never imagined in those early years: a quiet Midwestern community full of cornfields, cold winters, and middle schoolers learning to navigate the astonishing world of AI.


Everyone at Lombard knows him simply as Mr. Tai—the long-term technology sub who jumps between buildings, bridges grade levels, teaches emerging digital tools, and somehow also serves as the offensive coordinator for the Galesburg High School football program. But the path that brought him here is anything but ordinary.


Tai grew up in a tight-knit island community. His father is fully Samoan; his mother is Hawaiian and Portuguese. His family name carries a rhythm with it—Feso‘otai Papali‘i—though he shortens it to “Tai” to give mainlanders a fighting chance. He met his wife, Michelle, in Hawaii, where she was working and where Tai was coaching college football for the University of Hawaii. When the coaching staff was let go—a fate any football coach knows is never far away—the couple looked for their next chapter.


That chapter turned out to be Atlanta.


Michelle, who holds a doctorate, worked for the CDC, and the young family settled in the city for several years. But when the pandemic hit and remote work became possible, the question changed from Where can we work? to Where do we want to raise our kids? Michelle grew up in Galesburg. Her mother was still here. And the pull of family—of roots—grew stronger.


So they came home. Or rather, they came to her home, which soon became his, too.


Their two young children now attend Costa Catholic Academy. “I grew up in a small community,” he says. “I’ve always wanted my kids to grow up the same way.” He wanted the kind of place where people know each other, where relationships last, where a person isn’t swallowed up in the anonymity of a big city. “Something nice about a small community,” he adds—something familiar, even if the landscape is wildly different from the islands.


Tai first entered the district as a floating substitute teacher. That might have been the end of it—just a temporary role—until Lombard needed a long-term sub for technology. What sounded like an unusual match turned out to be natural. As a football coach, he’d lived inside film cut-ups, game breakdowns, digital presentations, statistical grids, highlight tapes, and tech-heavy workflows that modern coaching requires. Technology wasn’t a foreign language. It was home turf.


What he didn’t expect was how much he’d enjoy teaching it.


Now, he spends mornings with Lombard students and afternoons at the high school, teaching emergent technology and monitoring AP courses. He encourages students to experiment with tools like AI video generators, not to rely on them but to understand them. He sees the potential—and the danger. “We’ve got to be really careful,” he says. “I worry that kids won’t think for themselves.” Autocorrect already weakens spelling. Grammarly smooths away voice. And AI can quietly replace the struggle that teaches students how to form thoughts of their own.


“It can end critical thought,” Tai says plainly. “It’s a tool, but if they lean on it too much, they stop thinking.”


He shows students the global implications too—AI-guided drones, autonomous weapons, and the uncomfortable truth that technology accelerates faster than our ability to regulate it. He wants them informed, not afraid. Curious, not careless.


At the same time, he’s still learning how to teach. His degree from the University of Hawaii is in sociology, and while he’s finishing paperwork for a CTE teaching certificate, he’s quick to admit that classroom management—especially with sixth graders—remains a growing edge. “They know me already,” he laughs. “Sometimes that’s the advantage. Sometimes it’s a disadvantage.” He’s drawn to self-improvement. Teaching, like coaching, gives him an endless field on which to practice.


And coaching remains his passion. After two years as Galesburg’s freshman head coach, he stepped into the offensive coordinator role last season—working under head coach Shawn Hickey, whom he praises for strong leadership and the kind of moral compass he admires. “He’s a good guy,” Tai says. “He’s doing good things for the program.”

In the end, it’s the blend of all things—technology, football, fatherhood, heritage, humility—that makes him such a natural fit in Galesburg. He’s a man who has lived in places of extraordinary beauty, but who recognizes that beauty also exists in small towns with familiar faces and strong roots.


“I’ve always wanted my kids to grow up in a small community,” he says again, almost to himself.


And now they are. So is he.

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