I had only been teaching for two years when my administrator approached me with the kind of smile people wear when they’re about to volunteer you for something big.
“How do you feel about co teaching Algebra next year?”
I love collaboration. I love people. I love challenges. So naturally, I said yes, enthusiastically, before realizing I had absolutely no idea what I was agreeing to. But they promised training, support, guidance… all the magical things new teachers cling to like life rafts.
Then August arrived.
Training hadn’t happened. Guidance hadn’t happened. But Tier Days had arrived and so had my co teacher. Brand new to the school, bright eyed, and ready to jump in. We clicked immediately. We were aligned. We were excited. We were basically the co teaching version of a rom com meet cute.
Since training wasn’t starting until school did, we began planning the classroom together. I told them, “Think of us like roommates. For two class periods a day, everything in this room is ours. Shared space, shared snacks, shared chaos.”
It was bumpy. It was beautiful. It was co teaching.
The Honeymoon Phase
When training finally happened, we learned something that should honestly be printed on every co teaching contract:
It takes a long time to find your groove. Don’t panic.
We laughed. We nodded. We made a poster about how our partnership worked. Where I ended, they began, and where they ended, I picked up. We were basically a human infinity symbol. It felt good. It felt right. It felt like we were going to be the inspirational example in someone else’s training slideshow.
But then… the training schedule slowed down. Life happened. Logistics happened. And suddenly, we were flying the co teaching plane with only half a manual.
Enter: The Leadership Cohort and The Books
Around this time, I was invited to join a leadership cohort with the district TOSAs. I thought, Perfect. This is an opportunity to grow our partnership, supporting each other as we build, learn, and empower our students side by side.
And then they handed us books.
Books.
Hundreds of pages. Multiple books. I was in my third year of teaching, barely keeping my head above the grading pile, and now I was supposed to read like I was in a graduate seminar.
I didn’t have time to read them, but I desperately wanted the knowledge inside them. So, the cohort agreed to let me do project based research instead. I could study co teaching, understand it deeply, and build something meaningful for my team and others.
Spoiler: that “something meaningful” became the Partnership Compass.
But I didn’t know that yet.
The First Big Wave
A couple of months into the year, we hit our first real bump. Now, I should mention: I am an extreme optimist. I see the world in rose colored everything. Every day is a fresh start. It takes a LOT to upset me. This is great for students… but not always great for noticing subtle tension between adults.
So, while my co teacher felt the ripple, I didn’t see it. And because I didn’t see it, I didn’t address it. And because I didn’t address it, the ripple grew into a wave… and then into a tidal wave… and then into something that felt like the emotional equivalent of a natural disaster.
Feelings were hurt. Solutions weren’t landing. It felt like we were stuck.
The Turning Point
My mentor looked at me and said, “Use your tool.”
The tool I had been developing, the one meant to help teachers build relationships and focus on the partnership instead of the tasks, was suddenly the thing I needed.
So, I used it.
I identified where I was in the partnership. I identified where they might be. I worked with my coach to find solutions I could control. And then we came together—calm, honest, human.
The results were incredible.
We repaired the partnership. We strengthened our communication. We moved through the wave. We re anchored ourselves in empowerment and shared purpose. And our students felt the difference immediately.
The Compass We Needed All Along
That’s when I realized:
This tool wasn’t just helping me. It could help any co-teaching team.
It simplifies the transition into partnership. It honors our limited time. It neutralizes conflict so solutions can surface quickly. It validates the human side of collaboration. It gives teachers a way to understand themselves, understand each other, and move forward together.
It is a compass.
A Partnership Compass.
Not a checklist. Not a script. Not a set of rules.
A guide.
A way to navigate the waves, the ripples, the laughter, the tears, the breakthroughs, and the beautiful messiness of shared teaching.
A way to find our way back to each other. Every time.