From Phonics to Field Notes and Back Again
A note on teaching across the continuum
This semester, I find myself holding two very different lesson plans and feeling equally energized by both.
On one end, I am tutoring elementary school students, helping them sound out words, build confidence, and make sense of the world one sentence at a time. On the other end, I am teaching Applied Qualitative Research to doctoral students: scholars who are sharpening their questions, wrestling with epistemology, and learning how to listen deeply to people, places, and systems. At first glance, these roles might seem worlds apart. But for me, they are deeply connected; two branches of the same tree.
I started my career in education in DC’s first all-boys public charter school, long before I ever taught a doctoral seminar or defended a dissertation. I learned early that teaching is as much about attention as it is about content. It’s about noticing who is quiet, who is restless, who is carrying more than they should. That lesson followed me from Pre-K classrooms to international schools in Abu Dhabi, from home visits across all eight wards of DC to graduate classrooms filled with aspiring researchers and leaders.
So when I engage in a course on qualitative methods, I am not just teaching coding strategies or interview protocols. I am inviting students to slow down. To ask better questions. To understand that context matters, which is why my teaching and learning philosophy is that you cannot separate the tree from its roots. Research, when done well, is an act of care. It requires humility, reflexivity, and a willingness to sit with complexity rather than rush to conclusions.
And when I sit with an elementary student working through a challenging text, I see that same work happening in miniature. We are making meaning together. We are building language, confidence, and trust. We are practicing patience. In those moments, there is no hierarchy of importance, just the shared responsibility of helping someone grow.
My dissertation research on Black women educators and burnout taught me that brilliance without care is unsustainable. That insight led to the creation of She BLOOMS, an affinity space grounded in mentorship, sisterhood, and wellness. It also shapes how I show up as an instructor and tutor today. Whether I am supporting doctoral students designing studies or young learners decoding paragraphs, my approach is rooted in equity, cultural competence, and restoration.
This dual role, teaching at the highest levels of academia while supporting learners at the very beginning, feels like a full-circle moment. It reminds me why I do this work. It keeps me honest. It keeps me grounded.
Education is not linear. Learning does not happen in silos. And teaching, at its best, is relational across every level.
This semester, I am grateful to move between theory and practice, between phonics and field notes, between big questions and small victories. Each space sharpens the other. Each learner teaches me something new.
And that, more than anything, is what keeps me excited to return to the work again and again.
Thank you for reading The Nomadic Scholar! Special thank you to my paid subscribers!
If this is your first time reading The Nomadic Scholar, check out my introductory post.
If you’d like to support in ways other than a paid subscription, you can:
Like and/or share this post for visibility.
Buy me a map. Figuratively speaking, that is. This is a way to support me without committing to a paid subscription.
Book me. I write, but I also speak and facilitate. Check me out.
Yesss I love learning more about researching Dr. Jeri!