Kim Leddy

I hail from a small, not-so-quaint, town in Massachusetts best known for gifting President Jefferson with 1,400-pound wheel of cheddar — known as the Cheshire Mammoth Cheese. Which was prophetic since the teenagers I teach undoubtedly see me as cheesy. Case in point: the entirety of that prior “hook.”

As an educator, I work with high school juniors and seniors in a program called Mosaic. I bring the same overstuffed backpack of experiences to the classroom as I bring to the stage today —ballet dancer to journalist, restaurant sever to deli cashier, writer, reader, photographer, traveler, sister, friend … Dig deep in that knapsack you’ll find my professional toolbox stuffed with accolades like fellowships from Columbia University Teacher’s College, the Moth, the Pulitzer Center, diplomas from The Ohio State University, Otterbein College, and Lesley University, and even, close to the very bottom of the stack, a handful of awards from the Ohio Society of Professional Journalists.

Yes, I am proud of all those moments, all those pieces of paper that probably deserve to be framed and hung on a wall, but it is my refrigerator door that is true “this is your life” summary. Notes from former students, poems that refer to me as everything from a flower to an onion to pseudo-mom, tiny sketches and doodles, and endless photos of my family and my dog.

Every day, I try to find a moment of awe, a moment worthy of the fridge, as all touch my heart. And every day, I try to touch the hearts of my students.