I Became a Travel Teacher to See the Country. It Changed the Way I See Education Forever.

The first time I accepted a travel teaching contract, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.

I knew how to teach. I knew special education. I knew I was burned out. Everything after that was a bit of an experiment.

Eventually, that experiment would involve multiple states, a campervan, housesitting in beautiful homes, several teaching licenses, significantly more money than I had ever made as a teacher, and at least one teaching position I called to clarify I was absolutely not licensed to do before they basically said,

Yes, we know. Please come anyway.

If a school is willing to pay a stranger from Indiana significantly more money to show up halfway across the country, I have learned there is usually a story.

But I am getting ahead of myself.

Before I Was a Travel Teacher, I Was Just Really Tired

I grew up in Indiana and always wanted to be a teacher- so I did.

This wasn't a career I accidentally fell into. I loved education. I loved figuring out how people learned. I especially loved the students who made me think harder about how I was teaching.

Then COVID happened…While much of the world seemed to shut down, I did the opposite.

I created. And created. And created some more.

In hindsight, this probably says as much about my relationship with stress and burnout as it does about my dedication to teaching.

My students were struggling to access learning online, and I felt this enormous urgency to figure it out. I spent hours adapting materials, learning new tools, and trying to make education work in an environment none of us had prepared for.

I remember spending hours creating something specifically to make learning more accessible for my students. I was excited about it. I showed it to my principal.

They told me it was “colorful.”

Colorful.

I don't remember exactly what I expected them to say, but I remember the feeling.

I was looking at a massive access problem.

I thought I had created part of a solution.

And somehow, we weren't even having the same conversation.

I felt incredibly alone.

So I started putting things online. This was my early TikTok era. I shared the resources I was creating, the things I was trying, and the ideas I had about making learning more accessible.

And people responded.

Other teachers were asking the same questions. Other teachers were trying to figure this out too. For the first time in a while, I didn't feel like I was shouting into the void.

Then my “school” sent us an email saying COVID-19 vaccines were available.

You have to understand the timing.

Teachers were being asked to work without vaccines readily available. There was enormous uncertainty. I had immunocompromised coworkers who were genuinely scared about what going to work could mean for their health.

The email said vaccines were available and gave us a link to sign up.

People clicked it.

Of course they clicked it.

It was a phishing test…The school had contracted with a company to see which employees were vulnerable to phishing attempts….One of my coworkers was so upset they packed up their classroom that day and quit.

I don't think there was one dramatic moment when I stood in a hallway and declared, I am leaving Indiana. Life is usually less cinematic than that. It was a collection of moments.

But I remember realizing something very clearly:

I did not think I was going to fit here anymore. And I did not feel protected or respected as a teacher.

So I left.

Wait. Teachers Can Travel?

I had started building an online community through the resources I was sharing, and somewhere in that process, my understanding of what a teaching career could look like started getting bigger.

I discovered travel teaching.

If you are thinking, Travel nurses are a thing. Travel teachers are a thing?

Yes.

School districts with difficult-to-fill positions work with staffing agencies to recruit educators for contract assignments. Special education teachers are particularly needed, although travel and contract school positions can also exist for other educators and school-based professionals.

You work with a recruiter or staffing company, interview for a position, navigate the state's licensure requirements, and accept a contract for a specific assignment…At least, that is the clean explanation.

My actual experience was more like:

Would you like to move across the country and teach here?

Am I licensed for that?

We'll figure it out.

And somehow, we did.

I once accepted a position in a self-contained special education classroom even though I did not have the specific license I thought the position required.

I was so confused about why they offered me the job that I actually called to clarify.

They were desperate. I was willing. That was enough to get the conversation started. So I went. 

I figured it out as I went.

That sentence could probably summarize a significant portion of my twenties.

The Money Was Life-Changing. We Should Talk About That.

Teachers are sometimes weird about talking about money.

I am not going to be.

Travel teaching paid me approximately four times what I had made teaching virtually and about twice what I had made teaching in person in Indiana.

That changed my life. I could travel. I could save.

I could make decisions based on what I wanted my life to look like instead of constantly calculating what I could afford.

I spent weekends and school breaks on the road. I lived in my campervan. I housesat and earned money while staying in beautiful homes in places I never would have experienced otherwise. I got to try on different lives.

What would it feel like to live here?

Do I like this kind of community?

Could I see myself staying?

I wasn't taking a weeklong vacation and deciding a city had “good vibes.”

I was grocery shopping there. Commuting. Working. Finding coffee. Experiencing traffic. Having a normal Tuesday.

That is eventually how I found my way to Los Angeles.

Travel teaching gave me the incredible privilege of discovering where I wanted to build a life by actually living in different places first.

I don't regret that for a second.

But There Is Usually a Reason They Need a Travel Teacher

Here is the part I think people considering travel teaching deserve to hear…Many travel teaching positions are difficult to fill.

That does not automatically mean they are bad positions. 

But sometimes they are difficult to fill because the school is rural.

Sometimes the cost of living is high.

Sometimes there is a massive educator shortage.

Sometimes the district has struggled to recruit someone with a specific license.

And sometimes you arrive and think:

Oh. Okay. I understand now.

I worked in incredibly challenging environments.

I taught students with significant support needs and dangerous behaviors. I experienced situations involving aggression and behaviors I had never encountered in my previous teaching positions…including a student consuming animal feces… it was a lot.

There were placements that burned me out.

There were jobs I could not have done forever.

And I think this is one of the biggest misconceptions about travel teaching.

Being capable of surviving a difficult environment does not mean you are supposed to build a permanent life there.

I could walk into chaos.

I could learn quickly.

I could build systems.

I could connect with students.

I could figure things out.

For a while, those skills made me a very good travel teacher.

Eventually, those same skills helped me realize I did not want to spend my entire career constantly starting over.

I Thought I Was Traveling to See the Country. I Was Accidentally Comparing American Schools.

This is the part of travel teaching I did not expect.

Every time I entered a new school, I had a new comparison point.

I remember working in a district where the IEP writing system was connected directly to the district's student information system. Student data. Attendance. Educational information. IEPs…everything I was amazed.

You mean I don't need 100 different tabs open?

You mean the information can just… be there?

Somewhere, a special education teacher just felt that sentence in their soul.

Then I would go somewhere else and watch incredibly talented educators spend hours manually moving information between systems because that was simply how their district operated…

At one school, staff took turns providing lunch coverage for each other. You even had a plan. Your planning time was covered. People ate. I know this sounds like I am describing a luxury resort to some teachers, but I promise I am describing a school.

I saw schools on the West Coast place much more emphasis on social-emotional learning.

I saw stronger instructional strategies and academic rigor in some of the East Coast environments I experienced.

I watched schools prepare high school students for adulthood in completely different ways based on the communities around them.

Where I grew up in Indiana, many students expected to graduate, get a job, and move into their own place. In a high-cost-of-living area like Los Angeles, that path can look completely different. The local reality changes the questions students need help answering. And that should change what and how we teach.

The more schools I experienced, the harder it became for me to accept the sentence:

“That's just how education works.”

Which education?

Where?

According to whom?

I thought I was traveling to see the country.

I didn't realize I was accidentally spending years comparing American schools.

And once you have seen the same problem solved five different ways, you become increasingly suspicious of anyone who tells you there is only one way to solve it.

“Normal” Is Usually More Local Than We Think

Travel teaching made me question a lot of things I had previously accepted as normal.

Not only in education. In life. Growing up in Indiana gave me one understanding of adulthood. Traveling gave me dozens.

I saw different communities.

Different schools.

Different expectations.

Different versions of success.

I watched educators panic over problems another school had already solved.

I watched systems make simple things incredibly complicated.

I also watched schools with very real limitations build beautiful cultures of community care.

And I learned that some problems in education are universal.

There will always be difficult days.

There will always be student needs we don't immediately know how to meet.

There will always be interpersonal conflict.

There will always be initiatives we question and systems we wish worked differently.

But I also learned that the environment matters enormously.

Leadership matters.

Systems matter.

Staffing matters.

Community matters.

And our own emotional resilience matters too….That last part took me longer to learn.

Travel Teaching Can Change Your Environment. It Cannot Fix Everything.

Today, part of my work is mentoring educators around resilience.

One framework I return to is the Spheres of Influence from Elena Aguilar's Onward.

Imagine your problems in circles.

At the center are the things you can directly control.

Around that are the things you may be able to influence.

Outside of that are the things you cannot control.

I wish I had understood this framework earlier in my career.

Because if every problem you are experiencing is sitting in that center circle…if the same patterns are following you into every classroom, every school, every relationship, and every job…a plane ticket and a travel contract probably are not going to fix it.

You may need support. You may need therapy. You may need to build your own emotional resilience.

I say that with absolutely no judgment. I am the person who responded to a global pandemic by apparently deciding I should simply work harder and create more things.

I have met myself.

But maybe most of your frustration lives in that second sphere.

You can see the problems. You have ideas. You want to influence systems. Maybe you don't actually need to leave education. Maybe you need mentorship. Teacher leadership. Instructional coaching. Professional development. A role where your ability to notice and improve systems is actually used.

And maybe the biggest problems are in that outer circle.

You are working inside systems you cannot change. Your values fundamentally conflict with the environment. You have advocated. You have tried.You are depleted by conditions outside your control. 

Maybe you can leave.

I wish someone had told me that sooner.

You Are Never “Just a Teacher”

If you are reading this at 11:47 p.m. on a Sunday because you are dreading tomorrow, I am not going to tell you to quit your job. I am also not going to tell you to stay for the kids. I want you to know you have choices.

Teachers have an incredible collection of transferable skills. We manage people. We analyze data. We design systems. We communicate with wildly different audiences. We adapt in real time. We facilitate meetings. We navigate conflict. We learn new technology because somebody emailed us on Tuesday and said we are using it Wednesday.

You are not “just a teacher.”

You are also not required to prove your dedication to education by staying somewhere that is destroying you.

Travel teaching was my way out. And, eventually, it became my way back.

After about three and a half years, I wanted community. I wanted consistency. I wanted ongoing relationships. I wanted healthcare that did not become a logistical nightmare every time I moved. Travel teaching and ongoing medical care were, in my experience did not work.

I wanted to know where home was.

Travel teaching gave me enough freedom to figure that out.

Today, I live in Los Angeles. I am back in a school. I mentor educators. I create tools for students and teachers. And I still think like a travel teacher.

When I see a problem, I ask:

Is this actually required?

Is this the only way to do it?

Has somebody somewhere already solved this better?

What barrier are we actually trying to address?

A lot of the resources I create now started with the same habit travel teaching gave me: notice where people keep getting stuck, look at the system around them, and make the next step easier to see.

I don't think travel teaching is for every teacher.I don't think leaving fixes everything.

But travel teaching taught me something I desperately needed to learn:

Normal is relative. You can leave. You can choose a different version of your life. You can discover that the thing everyone around you calls “the way it is” is actually just the way it is there.

I did my time as a travel teacher. I am grateful I did.

I met some of the best kids I have ever known. I had experiences that fundamentally changed the teacher I became. I saw parts of this country I may never have seen otherwise. I earned money that changed what was possible for me.

And eventually, I learned when it was time to stay somewhere.

I still have the van.

I still travel.

I just know where I am coming home to now.

Thinking About Travel Teaching? Start Here.

Travel teaching still exists, and there are currently agencies advertising travel and contract roles for special education teachers and other school-based professionals. Aya Education lists school-based opportunities including special education teaching; Cross Country Education has a dedicated travel-teacher program; ProCare Therapy advertises travel special education roles; Soliant maintains a travel special education job section; Sunbelt Staffing lists contract and travel special education positions; and Epic Special Education Staffing works with special education teachers and other school-based professionals. Current listings show that the exact structure, pay, benefits, licensure expectations, and assignment type vary significantly, so read the actual contract and state credential requirements rather than assuming every “travel teacher” role works the way mine did.

Before accepting a position, I would ask very direct questions about the caseload, why the position is open, how long it has been vacant, student support needs, paraprofessional staffing, IEP compliance, planning time, healthcare, housing or stipends, credential support, and what happens if the assignment is not what was represented.

Especially this one:

Why is this position open?

Remember what I told you.

There is usually a story.