How Teaching Has Already Prepared You to Hold Elected Office
The Point
Let me start with the point: You would make a good politician. “How do you know this?” I hear you saying, “You don’t know anything about me.” I may not know you personally, but since you’re reading this article, I’m making a few assumptions. I also hear you saying, “I’m not sure I want to be part of the political system. . .”. I get it. I hear you on that, but that’s also the point: we need you! Let me explain.
My Assumptions About You
Here are my assumptions that make me believe you would be a good candidate for elected office.
You’re a teacher. Maybe you’ve been in the game for some number of years. I bet you’re a good teacher. During that time, you’ve probably had the opportunity to hone some teacher-skills. We’ll get into that later.
You’re fluent in math or science. Since you’re reading Kaleidoscope, I’m guessing you have a handle on at least the basics of science or math content, or even if you’re not a science or math teacher, you’re probably perfectly competent in whatever content you teach. You know how to do your homework. You are diligent, dare I say, even passionate about learning. This is key.
[W]e need more people who are smart, passionate, dedicated, and diligent involved in the decision-making processes for our federal, state, and local governments.
Finally, you care about kids. You’re someone who thinks about the future for which we’re preparing students. You’re someone who cares about the world. You’re obviously not motivated by money, but you’re prioritizing being a force for good in the world.
If all of those things are true, then I don’t care about your politics. You’ll find your way to the right decisions. And frankly we need more people who are smart, passionate, dedicated, and diligent involved in the decision-making processes for our federal, state, and local governments.
My Journey Into Politics
When I started my teaching career in 2004, I had no intention of getting into politics. I had just received a bachelor’s degree in physics from Penn State and then a master’s degree in Secondary Science Education from the University of Vermont. In those early years, I was mostly focused on improving my teaching. Seven years later, in 2011, I heard about my city’s Street Lighting Committee and I thought I might be an asset to it. Apparently, Montpelier was in the process of transitioning their incandescent and fluorescent street lights into LEDs, and they decided to form a committee to aid in the transition. As a physics teacher, I thought I might have something to offer. I’ve done power calculations and payback calculations. I thought, “maybe that could be helpful?”
A year later, a fellow teacher told me a city councilwoman was stepping down before her term ended, and there would be an appointment for someone to fill the final six months of her term. Would I be interested? She thought I’d make a great replacement. I decided to go for it, so I put my name in for consideration.
There were two possible appointees and I thought for sure that the other person would get it. I was young, a woman (there was only one other woman on the seven-member City Council besides the member who was stepping down), and I was from a relatively poorer part of town. The City Council decided to take a chance on me, and I got the appointment. I will tell you right now that I knew nothing about the city government or the City Council. But I met regularly with the city manager, and while the learning curve was steep, I knew how to forgive myself and keep growing (definitely a first-year teaching skill).
I can already hear you asking, “what was the time commitment for this seat?”. And that’s a fair question. The City Council met for a 4-hour meeting every other week, there was about an hour or two of pre-reading, and there were maybe two to three hours of emails I responded to during the week, depending on how spicy the council agenda was. Also, keep in mind that Montpelier has only 8,000 total residents, and District 2, which I represented, had fewer than 3,000.
People seemed to appreciate my work, and I won three elections after my appointment in order to keep my seat on the City Council. In 2018, it became clear that the mayor may not be running again, and having watched the skills and time it took to be a mayor, I thought the skills I had developed as a teacher matched up well. So I ran for mayor of Montpelier and won. And then I won two more elections for mayor after that. In total, I spent about 10 years in local government.
In 2022, I found out that one of my senators in Washington County might step down, and so I decided to run for Vermont State Senate. As of right now, I’m in my second term as a state senator, currently serving as the chair of the Senate Natural Resources and Energy Committee, and also on the Senate Appropriations Committee. Because our legislature only meets from January to May (we are a “citizen legislature”), I continue to work as a teacher just during the fall semester.
A Venn Diagram of Skills: What’s Shared?
I immediately started noticing the similarities between teaching and working in politics. It might have started when someone asked me jokingly about working in politics. “Does this [political setting] remind you of high school?” Of course they meant to be derogatory toward the sometimes pettiness of politicians, but my head started churning on all of the teacher skills I was leaning on in this new political setting. Now, after more than a decade in politics and two decades teaching, I continually see parallels between politics and teaching.
I decided to make a Venn diagram of “teacher skills” and “politician skills” (Figure 1). There are many specific skills that exist in the overlap: making sure that everyone feels heard, reading the room and anticipating questions, not taking criticism personally, etc. This is certainly not an exhaustive list. These are just the top areas of overlap. Just to highlight a couple: much of my experience in politics when interacting with the public is that people just want to be heard. If you have good processes, or in teaching we might call them protocols, you definitely can create situations where people are more likely to be heard or at the very least feel heard. As teachers we are trained to seek out multiple perspectives, to encourage our students to learn from each other, and not just from the teacher. We structure our time purposefully so that students can hear from each other, and that can happen in political venues as well.
Figure 1
Venn diagram

One time, in an effort to build support for a proposed environmental policy with a specific set of stakeholders unlikely to approve of it, I facilitated a session in which I solicited their feedback on the policy, and I took notes on big chart paper—just like I would have during a brainstorming session with my students. I solicited their recommendations, and then participants could star the recommendations or concerns that resonated the most with them. Ultimately, the group working on the policy incorporated some of the participant’s recommendations and the City Council was able to move forward with approving the policy. Their feedback made the policy better even though many of them were still opposed.
Both teachers and politicians must have a curiosity to learn new things. I have found that being a politician requires a commitment to continuous learning. As mayor, I learned about the Pavement Condition Index which measures the quality of road conditions. I learned about Tax Increment Financing, which may not sound very sexy, but can theoretically be a powerful tool to encourage development. When historic climate-change-driven flooding hit Vermont in 2023, we dedicated significant committee time in the next session to learning about river science, something that I had never studied. We not only had to learn it, but learn it well enough to make laws about it. It was high-stakes education!
A Venn Diagram of Skills: What’s NOT Shared?
I honestly struggled to come up with skills that I use as a teacher that do not somehow have any usefulness as a politician. While some science or math content knowledge is useful in politics, I’m not using it as frequently as I would in the classroom. Similarly, I’m not exactly grading papers for proficiency as a politician, but it is important to evaluate the effectiveness of specific laws, say, in other states, or evaluate the pros and cons of a particular policy. Even just asking myself, “How will we know if this policy is successful? What metrics will we use? What problem are we trying to solve?” is helpful, even if I’m not using a rubric or assigning points.
On the other end of the diagram, there are some skills I have had to develop as a politician that I arguably didn’t need as a teacher. Every now and then I’m reminded that I still have a ways to go on smiling comfortably in photos. It’s also worth noting that my experience with some lobbyists and politicians has been starkly different from my experience with my fellow teachers. I know everyone’s teaching experience is different, but in general I have found teachers to be selfless, trustworthy, and straightforward. So, without going into details, it was a somewhat jarring transition to interact with some adults that were sometimes sneaky, bent the truth, or who fudged their answers. In short, as a politician, I have had to learn how to distrust people.
There are many entry points, and there’s likely one that would fit your availability if you are interested in getting involved.
Do I Really Have Time for This?
I already mentioned the time commitment required for being on the City Council in Montpelier, but I want you to know that it’s likely that there are more or less demanding opportunities within your town, state, or county. Being a state senator has been a huge time commitment. I would go so far as to say that it’s a lifestyle that I’m choosing right now. But that’s on the far end of the time-commitment spectrum. Our Energy Advisory Committee meets just once a month, and not everybody shows up every time. There were many excellent volunteer opportunities that required very little time commitment. (For example, in our little city of 8,000 we had a bicycle and pedestrian committee, a conservation committee, a housing committee, a historic preservation committee, just to name a few, all with relatively low time commitments.) My point is this: there are opportunities for civic engagement at every level of commitment. There are many entry points, and there’s likely one that would fit your availability if you are interested in getting involved.
A Word About the Present Moment and Boundaries
As I write this in October of 2025, I think it’s fair to say that the political landscape in the United States has become increasingly volatile over the past many months. By the time that this article is published, national politics could be even more extreme. I don’t know where we’re headed. It wasn’t that long ago (at the time that I’m writing this) that Charlie Kirk was murdered. In the days that followed, I was, honestly, pretty nervous to go to outdoor open-air speaking events. I was suspicious of every bump and creak in my old house. I was on medium alert for days. I’m not asking anyone to be a martyr, but I will say that the solution for problems with democracy is more democracy. The shocking political moment in which we now find ourselves means that it is more important than ever that we have people of integrity going into politics. As a teacher, I know you value meaningful work, and for what it’s worth, politics can also be very meaningful work.
Even during more normal political times, stepping up in civic engagement is the kind of work that one could give to endlessly. But so is teaching. If you’re not careful with your boundaries, both teaching and politics will demand more of you than is healthy. So hopefully, as a teacher, you are developing your “no” muscle—your “it’s good enough and it’s time for bed” muscle. That exercise is also applicable in the world of civic engagement. In politics, this might look like calling a drafted bill good enough for introduction, knowing that there will be significant further discussion about it, and it’s likely to change anyway. Or it might look like saying, “I’m going to hang out with my family instead of going to this legislative reception.”
What about Running for Office?
Separate from performing well as a politician, I also want to offer encouragement that you have what it takes to run for elected office. Again, how do I know this? As a teacher, it may be fair to say that almost everybody in town knows you and likes you. You may already have a small army of graduates and parents who would show up for you. If you’re a good teacher, then you have a good reputation and that is a great head start! Have you written grants for your classroom? Bonus! Then you know how to ask for money. Have you coached an athletic team at your school (as I also have)? Double bonus! You can bring together a team or a coalition to work together toward a common goal, like winning a game or winning an election. If you’ve been a teacher for some number of years, then you’re probably relatively comfortable speaking in front of people. I’ll just tell you now, teenagers are usually harsher critics than the general public.
America needs you. Your town, your county, your state needs you.
Finally, why am I asking you to run? Because America needs you. Your town, your county, your state needs you. Consider how understanding the process of scientific inquiry would inform a healthy democratic process. Consider how all of your professional learning and community protocols have instilled a value in you of hearing all voices and how desperately that is needed in our community decision-making. Consider how your commitment to young people can translate directly into working to make the future better through good policy. Our society could use leaders who have a habit of exercising scientific and mathematical thinking. You can do this. Consider yourself asked.
Citation
Watson, A. (2026). How teaching has already prepared you to hold elected office. Kaleidoscope: Educator Voices and Perspectives, 13(1), URL NEEDED.