Best Bosses at Maria Montessori School, Toronto, Ontario.

A teacher plants the seeds of knowledge, sprinkles them with love, and patiently nurtures their growth with the sunshine of encouragement.” — Author Unknown.

My First Work Mentors in Canada

I still remember the first day I stepped into the Montessori school, housed in an old community church in the heart of a quaint neighbourhood. The wooden floors creaked as I walked, with sunlight spilling through tall windows and the air filled with old books and children’s laughter.

It was my first staffed job in Canada, and I was equally excited and afraid. I had no experience or training working in a school, and my only certification was a related course, Introduction to Early Childhood Education, that I took from a long-distance school via postal mail. After a phone and in-person interview, I received an offer for the classroom aide position the following week. The year was 1999.

Before this first staffed job, I was a babysitter and was solely responsible for caring for two children. I managed their schedules, entertained them, took them to library programs, and ensured their safety all on my own. I always have a love for children and a willingness to learn.

Gail and Jim, the principals, must have seen something in me. They welcomed me with warm smiles. Gail’s floral skirt swayed softly as she walked toward me, carrying the gentle scent of sweet vanilla—a fragrance that would soon become synonymous with comfort and reassurance in my mind. Jim sat with another teacher during the interview. That teacher would later become my daughter’s Casa directress.

My thought after the interview: Should I tell Gail that Vanilla was one of my favourite body mists? But I didn’t.

“You’ll do just fine,” she said, her voice calm and kind. “No experience in a classroom? No problem. We’ll learn as we go.” It was such a simple reassurance, but it stayed with me.

She didn’t say, “I’ll learn as I go.” She said “we.”

That one word held the weight of inclusion, of shared growth, of a leader who didn’t stand above but beside. At that time, I was not merely accepting a position; I was invited to embark on a meaningful professional journey. She saw potential where I saw uncertainty. And with that, her words encouraged my confidence; she made me believe in myself.

Her trust in me was transformative. She introduced me to the class teacher and the children to whom I was assigned. As I walked into the classroom for the first time, my nerves felt like jelly, but I took a deep breath and reminded myself that every incredible journey begins with a single step. 

Gail noticed my hesitation and whispered, “You’ve got this. We have a wonderful team here.”

She encouraged me to attend workshops, borrow books, and observe her and the staff during activities. Her guidance was invaluable.

“Remember, it’s not about perfection. It’s about patience, curiosity, and respecting each child’s uniqueness,” her voice sang in my head.

“What would Maria Montessori do?” One of the Casa teachers humoured us as I toured the other classes.

The place was warm and welcoming, which made everyone feel at home: staff, children, and parents alike. You would always hear laughter and friendly chatter filling the air, creating a sense of community where connections happened naturally, and everyone felt part of one big family.

The staff’s genuine care and dedication shone through, making it a supportive and inviting space where everyone felt valued and understood.

Gail wore many hats: principal, directress, administrator, but it was never about the titles. One winter morning, snow blanketed the walkway outside. Without hesitation, she picked up a shovel, cleared the path, and salted it to keep others safe. Watching her do that shifted something in me. It wasn’t just the act; it was the quiet strength behind it. That moment humbled me. It reminded me that true leadership isn’t loud or self-important, but grounded, generous, and willing. Since then, I’ve carried that lesson with me: to lead by example, to serve without seeking recognition, and never to underestimate the power of showing up.

“That’s just how we operate,” she remarked in her distinct British accent. “Everyone contributed, regardless of their role.”

I was awestruck.

One of my most daunting tasks was taking the children on field trips. Gail and Jim trusted me to lead groups of curious little explorers on public buses to the city’s downtown area.

At first, the responsibility felt overwhelming. What if I lost one of them? What if something went wrong? But Gail’s unwavering confidence in me was a steady anchor.

“‘You’ve got this, kiddo,’ she’d say with that signature smile, pressing a neatly folded TTC map and fare into my hand.”

And I did. I learned how to manage the organized chaos of a group of children, typically ranging from 4 to 6 children, adapt to unexpected situations, and see the world through their eyes. Those field trips became some of my most cherished memories, filled with laughter, discovery, and the occasional hiccup we always managed to resolve together.

Over the years, I grew into my role under the full support of staff mentorship. Even though Gail and Jim were more than just principals, they were guides, cheerleaders, and firm believers in the power of trust. Their faith in me extended beyond the classroom, teaching me to handle challenges gracefully, celebrate small victories, and recognize potential in myself and others.

For four and a half years, I was fortunate enough to be part of the vibrant and endlessly inspiring world of a Montessori school. It wasn’t just a job, it was a crash course in patience, empathy, and the art of working with people who care deeply (and sometimes passionately!) about what they do. And yet, that’s only part of the story.

To tell you how we honoured birthdays, how Christmases sparkled with handmade joy, how achievements—big and small—were lifted like lamps in the dark… well, that will take another composition entirely and would include the families of the children and extended communities.

Every day brought new lessons, not just from the children but from the incredible staff around me. That time didn’t just shape my skill set; it reshaped how I see people, how I solve problems, and how I show up in the world. It was growth in motion, and I’m grateful for every moment of it.

Gail and Jim’s impact on my life is immeasurable. When it was time to move on, I carried the lessons I had learned there: the importance of trust, the joy of learning, and the power of giving someone hope. They didn’t just give me my first job; they gave me a foundation to build on, and a powerful reminder that sometimes all it takes to grow is someone who believes in you. -jjf’25

A moment of gratitude.

To all the teachers, past, present, and future— thank you. For the patience that stretches beyond the clock, for the wisdom shared in whispers and wonder, for the way you see potential where others might overlook it.

You are the steady hands behind every small triumph, the gentle voice that says, “You can,” when the world feels too loud.

Whether you teach with chalk, with stories, with gardens, or with grace and now a bit of technology, you leave a mark that time cannot erase.

This post is a tribute to you. To your tireless devotion, your quiet courage, and the way you make learning feel like love.

Thank you for reading. Feel free to share this composition with any teacher you know. 😍jjf