It was on my mom's deathbed that I questioned what to do with the rest of my life. Was I doing what I wanted instead of just what the pocketbook demanded? For years, I felt a quiet yearning for something more than writing newspaper stories. So I decided to teach, and yet making a mid-career change at 39 with a family to care for made no sense. What was I thinking? But I had this idea that I could make the world a better place. Yes, stories abound of kids hating school, disrespecting teachers, and acting like fools in the classroom. But I can tell just as many stories of students showing kindness, embracing learning, and writing the sweetest notes for their teachers. For 22 years, I taught elementary school, and as a male teacher, I was an unusual species. Now I can tell you what it's really like on the inside of the modern classroom, where teachers struggle to find money for supplies, learn new modes of instruction, worry about kids who suffer in abusive homes, and wonder how they'll compete in a future filled with existential quandaries ranging from climate change and racial equity to the likelihood that they'll have fewer opportunities than the generations before them. It was my job to equip them for that uncertain future, or at least send them off successfully to the next grade level. Through it all, my time in the classroom was a love/hate affair, but mostly love, and definitely fun, except when it wasn't. It was awful to retire in the middle of a pandemic, but I did it; now I'd like to share what it was really like, and based on the experiences learned from all the kids that passed through my classroom, offer up some advice as a new generation navigates the hallways of elementary education in America.