Dear PenSPRA Friends,

I care…

A lot.

And apparently, my face is pretty quick to let everyone know it.

My name is Jenn Shealy, your PenSPRA President. I’m 45 years old, I have an 11-year-old and a 7-year-old, I’ve worked in school communications for nearly 20 years, and I’m a crier. There, I said it.

But before you start questioning whether I’m cut out for this work, hear me out. Most of the things that make me tear up aren’t sad at all.

The things that get me are usually the moments that remind me why this work matters: the look on a student’s face when they realize they’ve done something they once thought was impossible, the pride in a teacher’s voice when they talk about why they chose education, the electricity in the air on the first day of school, a community coming together for each other when it matters most. Those moments get me every time.

I used to worry that my tendency to care so much would be a liability in my job.

As school communicators, we are expected to be calm, measured, and strategic. We are often on the front lines when something difficult happens, helping our teams determine what needs to be said and how best to communicate with people who may be scared, angry, confused, or grieving. We’re expected to put our own feelings aside and do the work.

But I’ve started to think about the difference between managing our emotions and shutting them off completely.

The more time I spend in this profession, the less I believe that caring deeply is a liability. In fact, I think it can be one of our greatest strengths.

Because people can tell when you care.

Our students, teachers, staff, families, and communities don’t just need communicators who know what to say. They need communicators who care about the people they’re saying it to.

Our communities can feel the difference between a message that came from a template and one that comes from a place of genuine concern for the people receiving it. Authenticity builds trust and caring builds connection. And when a crisis happens, those relationships and that trust matter more than ever.

Now, that doesn’t mean we should take every crisis home with us. There’s a difference between caring about what happens and carrying everything that happens. We can be affected by difficult moments without allowing them to consume us. We can care deeply, do our jobs well, and still know when it’s time to put the work down.

But I also think we need to acknowledge that this work has an impact on us as people.

We spend our careers standing close to some of the hardest moments in our school communities. One crisis might not feel like much in isolation, but over time, those moments can add up.

And I think it’s ok to talk about that. In fact, I think we should.

One of the things I value most about PenSPRA is the community. There is something pretty special about being around people who just get it. We may work in different districts and have different titles, but we have all been (or will be) in that room. We have all gotten the phone call. We have all stared at a blank screen trying to figure out how to put words around something that feels impossible to explain.

Every single time I have needed help getting through a tough situation, I have found someone in this community willing to listen, share what they’ve learned, talk me through it, or just remind me that I’m not alone.

So maybe taking care of ourselves in this profession starts simply with acknowledging when something has affected us. Reaching out to a friend. Setting a boundary. Taking a breath before jumping into the next thing. Giving ourselves permission to feel something instead of immediately pushing it aside.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the impact this work can have on the people doing it. The issue came up during this summer’s NSPRA National Seminar, and NSPRA is now beginning a research project focused on it. It feels like an important step for a profession that spends so much time thinking about how to help everyone else through difficult moments.

I’m glad we are starting to think and talk a little more about what this work does to the people behind the communication. Not because we need to become less professional. Not because we need to let our emotions drive our work. But because caring is not the enemy of good communication. It is often the reason we're good at it.

So, as I begin my second year as your PenSPRA President, this is one of the conversations I hope we can have together. I want PenSPRA to be the kind of community where we can talk about the work, learn from each other, celebrate the wins, laugh at the fact that we’ve all spent 45 minutes debating a single word in a three-sentence email, and, when we need to, help each other through the hard stuff.

So, thank you for being part of this community and for making sure we don’t have to do this work alone.

And if I tear up along the way?

Well, now you know why.