Teaching Philosophy
Daryl Ann Borel, Ed.D.
Assistant Professor
After roughly thirty-five years in education, as a classroom teacher, a cabinet-level K–12 administrator, and now a university assistant professor, I hold one conviction above all others: teaching is, and always has been, about the students. For the aspiring principals, teacher leaders, and doctoral scholar-practitioners I teach, that means the students they will one day teach, the campuses they will one day lead, and the lives they will quietly and powerfully change. Education is hard, exhausting work that can drain us physically and emotionally. Yet, as Larry Bell reminds us, even on our worst day on the job, we are still some child's best hope. I bring that calling into every class meeting, every dissertation conversation, and every late-night email reply.
I believe quality instruction rests on three things: rigor, relevance, and genuine relationships. Students rarely remember the slide decks we built or the rubrics we polished. They remember how we made them feel about themselves as learners, professionals, and human beings. So I set high expectations and design coursework that connects directly to the schools my students serve, while ensuring each student knows I see their potential, sometimes before they do. I answer the phone when a student is panicked about a deadline, and I keep believing they can finish even when they are certain they cannot. This kind of teaching helps students persist through the hardest semesters of their lives and carries them across the stage at graduation. In my deepest belief, it is what determines whether a degree program changes a life or merely confers a credential.
I measure the success of my teaching not by a paycheck but by my students' growth. I see it in the reflections and heartfelt notes from those who find meaning in coursework, and in former students who, sometimes years later, recognize that a single class shifted their trajectory. Every time I place a doctoral hood on a student's shoulders or watch a master's student cross the stage to receive an advanced degree, I am reminded that teaching is a profound privilege. It is a calling I accept with humility and pursue with purpose every day.
I believe quality instruction rests on three things: rigor, relevance, and genuine relationships. Students rarely remember the slide decks we built or the rubrics we polished. They remember how we made them feel about themselves as learners, professionals, and human beings. So I set high expectations and design coursework that connects directly to the schools my students serve, while ensuring each student knows I see their potential, sometimes before they do. I answer the phone when a student is panicked about a deadline, and I keep believing they can finish even when they are certain they cannot. This kind of teaching helps students persist through the hardest semesters of their lives and carries them across the stage at graduation. In my deepest belief, it is what determines whether a degree program changes a life or merely confers a credential.
I measure the success of my teaching not by a paycheck but by my students' growth. I see it in the reflections and heartfelt notes from those who find meaning in coursework, and in former students who, sometimes years later, recognize that a single class shifted their trajectory. Every time I place a doctoral hood on a student's shoulders or watch a master's student cross the stage to receive an advanced degree, I am reminded that teaching is a profound privilege. It is a calling I accept with humility and pursue with purpose every day.