Ten days into her first principalship, Airyell Gladfelter had already discovered something about the job, you don't know what you don't know. There will be curveballs, mornings when the walkie-talkie starts chattering before the school day begins, buses need to be sorted out, children arrive with difficult mornings behind them, teachers need support, and any number of other things that weren't on the day's agenda.

But standing inside Harding Primary School, where she now serves as principal, Gladfelter also had the unmistakable look of someone who had landed exactly where she belonged.

"This is the sweet spot," she said.

The funny thing is, becoming a principal wasn't really the plan. Gladfelter spent years teaching second and third grade before moving into intervention work through Multi-Tiered Systems of Support, which allowed her to work with students in smaller groups. She soon realized she wanted to reach more kids, not fewer, so instructional coaching came next, putting her back into classrooms, this time supporting teachers and helping them improve their craft. She loved it.

Eventually, someone suggested she continue her education and earn her administrative credentials. Even then, Gladfelter wasn't convinced.

"I don't really want to be a principal," she remembers thinking.

But something kept pulling her toward opportunities where she could make a larger impact, and when the Harding position opened, the pieces began falling together. Second and third graders… she knew them. Supporting teachers… she knew that too. Helping children succeed had been the common thread all along.

"Okay! Principal is next," she decided. "Let's see how it works out."

It worked out. There is another piece of the story that makes Gladfelter's arrival at Harding particularly meaningful. She came home. A 2007 graduate of Monmouth High School, Gladfelter went on to Monmouth College and eventually built her career in education nearby. Her own son, now a fifth grader, has remained in Monmouth-Roseville because she wanted him to experience something she valued growing up.

"We think it's important to grow up and see friends in your hometown," she said.

Now she finds herself encountering former classmates in an entirely new way.

"I grew up with you, and now here's your kids," she said. "That's so fun."

Education, after all, was never an accidental career choice. Gladfelter remembers the way her own teachers made her feel, and that experience influenced her decision to become one herself. Today, she has an opportunity to create that feeling for an entire building, and her first ambitious goal is wonderfully simple: learn every child's name by Christmas.

There are just over 200 students at Harding, so Gladfelter has some work ahead of her. At lunch and recess, she is already asking children to introduce themselves, and soon she'll spend more time in classrooms, putting names and faces together. She believes knowing a child's name matters.

"Kids relate to you more and listen more when you know them, at least on a name-to-name level."

That philosophy also explains why Gladfelter wants to be visible. Her mornings begin early, often with her son alongside her before he catches his bus. Then comes the walkie-talkie, bus issues, car drop-off, and greeting students at the door. Once everyone is inside, she checks in with staff, walks the hallways, and moves in and out of classrooms. Some children arrive ready to learn; others need an adult to help them reset their day.

Gladfelter remembers Superintendent Fletcher reminding educators that school may be the happiest part of some children's day.

"No matter what you have happening at home, you have to come and put on the good smiley faces for them," she said. "They want to come. It's consistency, and it's routine for them."

Consistency matters academically, too. Gladfelter embraces Fletcher's insistence that educators set the bar high and resist lowering expectations before students have been allowed to reach them.

"You never know who can meet them," she said. "Keep them high, and then see who can rise to the occasion."

Expectations, however, cannot merely be announced; they must be practiced, reinforced and retaught. That requires teachers, and Gladfelter is keenly aware of how much is being asked of them. Educators have always worn many hats, she said, but the complexity of what arrives in classrooms continues to grow, which makes the human relationships inside schools even more important. Technology may help, and artificial intelligence may have useful applications, but Gladfelter is unequivocal about something education cannot afford to lose.

"Nothing can replace a face-to-face human being."

Perhaps that explains why the principalship fits her better than the curriculum-focused future she once imagined. Gladfelter has always been a helper and organizer, even as the youngest child in her family. Put her in charge of something, she says, and she'll help get it done.

Now the responsibility is considerably larger: more than 200 names to learn, teachers to support, families to know, problems she can anticipate and plenty she cannot.  Now, after years of preparing for a job she wasn't sure she wanted, the Monmouth graduate has come home to discover it may have been waiting for her all along.