Why did I feel it was interesting to interview Ashlie? She is a nationally recognized educator and the 2025 National Teacher of the Year, celebrated for her leadership, innovation, and deep commitment to student growth. She teaches English, including Advanced Placement Language and Composition, English 10, and an elective called Survival Stories at Mifflin County High School in Lewistown, Pennsylvania, where she also advises the school’s journalism program and oversees student publications. A first‑generation college graduate with degrees from Susquehanna University and a master’s in educational leadership from Penn State, Ashlie returned to teach in her hometown, shaping learning that broadens students’ worldviews and fosters authentic voice, critical thinking, and global competence. Her work—rooted in student empowerment, community connections, and creative curricula—led her to become the first educator from Pennsylvania to receive this prestigious national honor, participating in yearlong service as an ambassador for the profession.
This interview is compelling because it delves far beyond Ashlie’s accolades to explore the heart of her philosophy: how teaching can serve as a transformative force in students’ lives, especially in rural communities with limited access to global learning opportunities. It highlights concrete classroom strategies she uses to center student voice, measure impact beyond test scores, and defend project‑based, interdisciplinary work that cultivates real‑world readiness. Her reflections on hope, communication, equity, and the future of education provide rich insight into the challenges and aspirations shaping educators and learners today, making this conversation both timely and deeply resonant for anyone invested in the future of learning.
Here’s our exchange:
Where are you originally from, and what was your childhood like there?
I am from a small working-class town in central Pennsylvania, in the United States. As a kid, of course, I thought it was a boring place to live and couldn’t wait to “get out,” but now as an adult, I think it was a pretty good place to spend a childhood. I was surrounded by clean air, farmland, and state forests, yet we were close enough to large cities for a day trip. I think my early exposure to travel and cultural centers helped inspire my passion for helping rural students cultivate their global citizenship.
At home, childhood had many ups and downs, and like many families, we made every effort to hide the hardships. When I became a teacher, I reflected on what my teachers saw versus what was reality—not just for me, but for so many of my friends and classmates. It made me realize how much school can serve as a safe space for kids, and how important it would be for me to ensure my classroom was part of that positive environment.
What motivated you to study what you studied?
I was the first person in my family to go to college. Originally, I intended to become a journalist, but I was so grateful for how much my teachers nurtured my potential and helped me navigate young adulthood that I decided to change my major to education. I wanted to give to another generation what had been given to me.
What concrete strategies have you used to center student voice in classrooms that historically lack access to global learning opportunities, and how do you measure whether those strategies actually change students’ civic engagement or aspirations?
In 2018, I completed a Fulbright Teachers for Global Classrooms fellowship. It gave me a foundational understanding of global competencies and specifically helped me consider why and how we can develop them in students from rural communities. What I learned is that centering student voice is the strategy itself.
The majority of the texts we work with are from the perspectives of young adults across the world. By using narratives and lived experiences of young people, my students can more easily find connections to people who initially seem different from them. It also helps diversify what counts as a “text” and what counts as an “assessment.” When we think of “English class,” we think of novels and essays—but films, podcasts, photos, live performances, 3D projects, advertisements, social media posts—they’re all ways we communicate our ideas. Helping our students analyze visual texts and use them to tell their own stories is critical literacy skill-building, and it’s how we cultivate empathy and a sense of belonging.
As for measuring student impact, some students have studied abroad or chosen their majors based on experiences in our class. But I always remember a student who interrupted his friend to say clean water is, in fact, an issue they should care about because “there’s no fish where I go fishing anymore.” When students help each other reframe their thinking and make connections based on real-life experiences, that’s when I feel global citizenship is truly becoming a part of their lives.
Policymakers often demand easily measurable outcomes; how do you defend project-based, interdisciplinary work that yields deep learning but resists simple test-score metrics?
Every year, NACE—the National Association of Colleges and Employers—releases data from its job outlook survey. In last year’s results, the top five attributes employers seek on a candidate’s resume were: 1) problem-solving skills, 2) ability to work in a team, 3) written communication skills, 4) initiative, and 5) strong work ethic. Most of these can’t be measured with test scores alone, which means tests won’t show students’ readiness.
While there are slight changes each year, the general theme remains consistent: “soft skills” are just as, if not more, essential to the workforce as content knowledge. When we do project-based or interdisciplinary work, students aren’t ignoring subject standards—they’re transforming content into creativity. In doing so, teachers ensure classroom learning prepares students for the real world.
When districts face tight budgets, professional learning budgets are often the first to go—how would you prioritize investments in teacher development that produce the largest equity gains for students?
Teaching is both a science and an art: it involves human psychology, pedagogical expertise, and expert planning, combined with creativity, spontaneity, and emotional connection. That is a diverse and complex skill set for a professional to acquire, maintain, and grow. Classrooms are full of variables, not constants.
The strongest answer is also the most obvious: teachers need teachers. They need mentorship and guidance that enables individualized growth, operating under the same learning contract we make with students: high standards, hard work, and strong support. Instructional coaches, curriculum coordinators, team teachers, strategic staffing—there are many models for these roles. Each version has its purpose, but they all demonstrate the same basic tenet: creating tiers of teacher leadership and support is essential for sustainable success in schools.
When implementing new curricula that emphasize global competencies, how do you ensure that local histories and community knowledge are not sidelined, and how do you bring community stakeholders into co-design?
Education should prepare students for the world they will live and work in, which today means having the confidence to navigate multicultural environments. By incorporating global competencies into coursework, students learn to investigate the world, recognize perspectives, communicate ideas, and take action—skills that are useful both globally and locally. The intersections between local and global contexts are rich opportunities for student learning.
A strong example in my classroom is work with the UN Sustainable Development Goals. Each year that unit looks different, but students consistently research progress on a goal both globally and in their own communities. They interview local professionals, review regional data, and identify agencies or resources that help our community contribute to the goal. In any globalized lesson, my objective is to help students activate their own global citizenship—realizing that their actions and voice influence both their community and the world.
Which book, film, or piece of art has influenced how you see the world?
I could never choose just one! As an English teacher, my goal is to help students experience how books, films, and art allow us to glimpse into the past, build connections, share stories, and imagine the future. I think classrooms should use all types of media in abundance.
At school, I have a shelf of classic novels that are falling apart from repeated reading; at the Louvre, I take ten moments to stare at the same sorrowful painting each visit. I also love discovering local literature at indie bookstores, and during lockdown, I longed most for live music. I couldn’t choose one medium—or one work—because artistic expression allows us to experience the world in technicolor.
When you look at younger generations, what gives you hope and what worries you?
Younger generations have a sense of urgency—it gives me both hope and worry. The urgency is warranted; many young people are concerned that the world they are entering isn’t safe or sustainable, so they become advocates for change at young ages. Their engagement, empowerment, compassion, and activism are inspiring.
I worry when they feel that all responsibility falls on their shoulders. Urgency can easily become anxiety when you don’t have all the answers. We need to strengthen connections between youth and experience so communities benefit from the assets of both.
If you could ensure that one value is never lost in society, which would it be?
Communication. Every other value we cherish depends on our willingness to communicate. Empathy and innovation are two of humanity’s greatest assets, but everything that goes into them—teamwork, risk-taking, learning, understanding—is dependent on communication. It’s the keystone to progress.
What personal goals—if you feel comfortable sharing them—do you have for 2026?
I go through different phases of learning. Sometimes it’s organic—I pick up lessons through experience. Other times, it’s intentional—I’m enrolled in a fellowship, grad program, or new leadership role. This year, I want to curate a learning journey that allows these two versions of myself to intersect intentionally. I want to explore how actively encouraging our humanity guides our growth, and how it impacts clarity, opportunity, energy, and influence.
What was your family dynamic, and who were the key figures in your upbringing?
My parents divorced when I was two, and both remarried during my elementary years. My mom divorced and remarried once more. I have six siblings—one older, five younger—so growing up, our home was lively. The age gap between me and my younger siblings meant I helped a lot with chores and transportation.
My grandparents and great-grandparents were key figures, especially on my dad’s side, because he frequently worked weekends. In middle and high school, my teachers became important mentors. I was a smart kid, but lacked direction. Being the first in my family to attend college wouldn’t have happened without their guidance. Their help inspired me to become a teacher.
Were there any cultural or family traditions from your childhood that helped define your values?
My mom strongly valued cultural education. She enrolled me in singing, acting, and piano lessons. None of them stuck long-term, but they gave me early access to the arts. That grew into an appreciation for multiculturalism and travel. I was lucky to go abroad in high school and college, which led to a Fulbright fellowship and the development of our school’s international travel program. In rural areas, students often lack opportunities to see the world. Creating these avenues helps ensure our students are prepared as global citizens.
At what age did you start working, and what did your first job involve?
I started working at 14 as a busgirl at a local pizza shop. I made minimum wage cleaning tables and taking dishes to the back. I took the job for two reasons: 1) our finances were tight, and I felt guilty asking for money to go to the football game or movies, and 2) I wanted to save for a car.
I still see my boss around town. His business is a strong supporter of our school system. That job taught me a little about hard work and a lot about contributing to your community.
How would you describe your current job and its responsibilities?
I’m still a teacher, but in a broader sense. I’m part of the 2025 cohort of State Teachers of the Year, representing all 50 states, US territories, Washington DC, and Department of Defense schools worldwide.
My job is to champion educators nationwide, bring visibility to schools’ and students’ needs, and share my community’s experiences. I ensure learners’ and teachers’ stories are central to discussions and decisions about education in America. It’s an incredible honor and privilege.
If you could spend a full day with any historical figure, who would it be and what would you ask them?
I’d choose Anne Frank. She gave the world so much through her words, story, and hope—all from the perspective of a child. I’d want to share how much her words have mattered and how profoundly her life influenced generations. She never stopped believing in humanity’s goodness; it would be an honor to show her the impact of that belief.
If you had to teach a class on something completely unrelated to your career, what would you teach and why?
I’d teach swimming lessons. Swimming is good exercise, lifelong, and a lifesaving skill. I learned to swim young because of frequent ear infections and spent a lot of time at the pool and on the swim team. Teaching friends to swim was incredibly rewarding, and I loved seeing their abilities grow firsthand.
Humanity is facing radical changes. To name just ten: geopolitical instability, climate change, economic inequalities, technological risks, public health challenges, political polarization, resource scarcity, humanitarian crises, misinformation, and disparities in global healthcare access. If, in an imaginative exercise, you had the power to solve one of these problems, which one would you choose first and why?
I’d choose economic inequality. Social class disparities underlie many of these issues and directly affect education access. Ensuring families have living wages and financial stability improves life at home, positively impacts school systems, and creates a generation equipped to tackle other complex problems.
What do you think humans owe each other, if anything at all?
Generally, we treat each other with respect, compassion, and understanding. The challenge comes when trying to scale empathy and opportunity—power imbalances emerge, and care becomes unequal. Young people are engaged and passionate about the planet, yet their concerns aren’t always reflected in policy. At this point, it’s less about what individuals owe each other and more about what our systems of power owe to all of us.
Interviews often focus on the latest positive news, or interviewees only share what went well. Could you share something from 2025 that didn’t go as expected and what you learned from it?
The most unexpected part of my year of service has been teaching without daily student interactions. Classrooms are constant feedback loops that guide instruction, but now my work builds more slowly and is often remote. I realized how much I depended on immediate feedback and how insecure I felt without it. Redefining success in a high-visibility role without immediate student reactions has been a huge adjustment—and a special opportunity for growth.
Imagine you are in the final moments of your life. What news would you like to hear, and why?
I teach around 150 students a year and influence thousands more over my career. I often wonder about them. Are they safe and happy? “They all make it.” That’s the news I’d want: knowing that the students I taught lived lives of safety, happiness, and fulfillment. I can’t fix the past, but I hope they had the opportunities to thrive.