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When it comes to teaching, Connie Cody will take the suspension-rattling curves you endure on the weathered path toward trusting relationships over the slick hiss of tires on the easy highway to Being Rightsville any day. This philosophy has become the bedrock of Connie Cody’s 35-year career in teaching. A lifelong Springfield resident, Connie’s spent the last three decades at Waverly navigating multiple grade levels but ultimately finding her calling in the generative clamor of the fifth-grade classroom.

Trust In, 
Trust Out

Born and raised in Springfield, Connie’s entry into teaching was foretold long ago if the fates do indeed meddle in our affairs. She knew she would become a teacher as far back as the sixth grade. Inspired by her fifth-grade teacher’s enthusiasm and love for the job, Connie quickly committed to a career that would span most of her life, as many born teachers do. Though she toyed with the idea of becoming a social worker, her intuition soon guided her toward the classroom, largely influenced by her early experiences in babysitting and teaching Sunday school.

We’re not just educators, we’re relationship builders.

Waverly wasn’t a feature in the beta version of her game plan. Connie was happily subbing in Chatham, mainly for kindergarten classes, when the opportunity at Waverly presented itself. While initially reluctant about fifth grade, it didn’t take her long to fall in love with the age group. “What I love about fifth grade is the balance,” Connie says. “They’re young enough to still appreciate stuffed animals in the classroom, but old enough to function somewhat independently.”

 

According to Connie, one of the cornerstones of Waverly’s uniqueness is the seamless fluidity of communication between colleagues. Unlike larger districts, where scheduled meetings and layers of administration can create organizational havoc, at Waverly, interaction is instant and baked into the ecosystem. She notes, “We talk throughout the day; it’s a culture of immediacy and support. The advantages of our small size are enormous.”

 

She’s been president of the teachers’ union several times over the years, a job she describes as facilitating a necessary safeguard against attacks on teacher effectiveness. The union is a bulwark against the whims of misguided decisions, ensuring teachers can focus on teaching rather than job security. “We have done stuff to show its support for non-certified staff, as well, because they’re a part of our building, too.” Connie says the effects of union representation for teachers trickle down to the students and improve the school culture and quality of life for all staff.

 

Connie is famous for her celebratory fingernails, intricately painted with A+ symbols and apples on the day we speak with her. Apparently, she’s known for other nail polish depictions depending on the month (think pumpkins, Christmas trees). This quiet act of engagement and joy in her profession doesn’t go unnoticed. Showing your genuine self is the way to build unassailable trust.

 

And more trust needs to be placed in teachers, Connie declares. “[Across the country] trust has been eroded, but not from within the classroom,” she states. “It’s the external factors. Those from outside need to understand that we’re not just educators, we’re relationship builders. We’re here to work together, not against each other.” After 35 years, it’s clear that for Connie, teaching is an existentially defining practice, not a job. Though the details of her environment have changed somewhat over the years, her passion remains timeless in its unwavering attention. She smiles, “Despite the external pressures, it’s about the kids, always has been, always will be.”

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