How setbacks, self-discovery, and a deep love of learning shaped a career I never expected!

A high school teacher – and a dear friend – with a passion for storytelling, connection, and lifelong learning, Glynis Hunt has spent over a decade and a half in the classroom after an unexpected journey through journalism, anthropology, and education. With experience teaching everything working with special needs students and at FFCA from Grade 6 to 12, she believes the best educators never stop being students themselves.

At thirteen, I dreamed of becoming a pilot. I met a really handsome pilot at my cousin’s wedding and I thought what a great job that would be! But poor eyesight, paired with less-than-stellar math grades, grounded that ambition before it ever left the runway. Not long after, I discovered something else: I had a natural inclination for language. AP English felt like home. Writing, analyzing, storytelling—all of it came easily, and with joy. The idea of becoming a journalist began to take shape. I envisioned myself telling real life stories, bringing clarity and purpose to complex truths. My love for English and social studies—subjects that made sense of the world and connected people across time and culture—deepened.

Childhood Clues: Pretend, Performance, and Passion
Looking back, the seeds were there all along. I adored animals, but the thought of witnessing their pain made veterinary work unthinkable. Instead, when I was home in the summers with my kids, I would foster dogs and lead them to a new fur family. What I truly loved, when I was little and still now, was imagination: inventing characters, creating lives for my friends and I to escape into, narrating stories to anyone who would listen. That instinct to perform and connect—to communicate with feeling and intent—is still very much alive in the classroom. Teaching, after all, is its own kind of theater. I have often imagined myself to be a big purple dragon tapping on my laptop with my talons, and sipping on my diet Pepsi, but ready to take my wings and envelop any student who needed me. My love for animals, even dragons, and my imagination remains alive and well, obviously.

The Twisting Road: An Unexpected Education
My academic journey was far from linear. I began at SAIT in Journalism Arts, learning to write for newspapers and magazines, and developing film in darkrooms with trays of chemicals—a tactile, deliberate process that taught me the art of patience. From there, I set my sights on the Public Relations program at Mount Royal. I didn’t get in. Not because of grades, but because I faltered in the interview. I was crushed. But as life often does, it redirected me. I began taking courses purely out of interest: anthropology, archaeology, ancient civilizations. I even pursued a minor focused on Egypt and Mesopotamia, imagining a future in museums or academia. But eventually, I realized those environments—dim, still, and distant—didn’t quite fit, although travelling there one day would still be amazing. I completed a general studies degree between Mount Royal and the University of Calgary, and soon after, I entered the education program at the UofC. I sometimes joke that I was a “professional student” for eight years. And maybe I was—but in hindsight, I was also laying the foundation for something I hadn’t yet recognized.

The Teachers Who Lit the Way
Two educators, in particular, helped shape the kind of teacher I would become:

• Mrs. Nichols, my Grade 4 and 5 teacher, radiated warmth and made every student feel seen and valued.

• Mr. Wiggam, my high school social studies teacher, brought humour, energy, and irreverence to every lesson. He showed me that learning could—and should—be joyful.

Their influence is with me every time I step into a classroom.

Where I Am Now: Teacher, Learner, Guide
Teaching wasn’t part of my plan—not in high school, not even after SAIT. When I completed my education degree, my first role wasn’t in a school but as a government coordinator supporting children with autism. It was meaningful work, but highly stressful managing millions of dollars of funding, and organizing speech pathologists, occupational therapists, psychologists, physical therapists, aids, and teachers for over 50 children a year. Learning about children’s special needs and seeing firsthand the things they could offer the world even though living a non-typical life helped me connect with kids in my teaching career and gave me a different outlook on what students could achieve if I made a couple of little tweaks in their classroom setting.  It wasn’t until after my son, Cael, was born that I began substitute teaching. I accepted a position at FFCA South Middle School. I found a community—and, to my surprise, a deep and lasting love for teaching middle school. The students’ humor, curiosity, and energy made every day dynamic and worthwhile. I stayed for thirteen years. That experience opened the door to new opportunities. Over time, I taught everything from Grade 6 to Grade 12. High school was never on my radar either, but I found myself drawn to the challenge—and the reward—of helping older students think critically about the world, navigate complex content, and step into adulthood with purpose. Watching former eighth graders continue and change into even more thoughtful, capable young adults has been one of the most fulfilling parts of this career.

Lessons Along the Way
One of the most profound lessons I’ve learned is that life is not defined by a GPA. As a student, I placed enormous value on grades. I wrestled with the pass/fail system during my Master of Teaching—constantly wondering how well did I pass? In time, I came to understand that confidence can’t be derived from marks alone. True growth comes from experience, reflection, and resilience; another hard-earned truth no one really has figured it out. I once believed adulthood came with certainty. It doesn’t. As a parent, I remind my children—and myself—that we’re all learning as we go. There’s no manual. Mistakes are inevitable. And that’s okay.

Looking Ahead: Future Dreams and Lifelong Learning
Retirement is on the horizon, perhaps in eight years. But I doubt I’ll step away from learning entirely. Whether in a university lecture hall or an online course, I can easily see myself studying something new, simply for the joy of it. My career has shifted again and again: from middle school to high school, from coordinator to classroom teacher, from student to mentor. Every change has brought new insights, new challenges, and new joys. I’ve learned to trust that growth often arrives unannounced—and that transformation is part of the journey. In the end, the most enduring lesson is this: I am still learning. And that, I’ve come to realize, is exactly where I want to be.