Kari Rwenzo

Educator/Teacher, World traveler

With over 33 years of teaching experience, I am a dedicated educator with both a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree in Education. Throughout my career, I have taught students in grades 2 through 6, working to create engaging learning environments that nurture curiosity, resilience, and a love of lifelong learning. For the past 16 years, I have taught internationally in Uganda, Sudan, Rwanda, Saudi Arabia, and Nigeria. These diverse experiences have deepened my understanding of global perspectives in education and strengthened my ability to connect with students from varied cultural backgrounds. I am passionate about helping students ignite their passions, discover their strengths, and grow into confident, capable learners. My teaching philosophy centers on empowering students to take ownership of their learning, fostering collaboration, and encouraging kindness and respect within the classroom community. Whether at home or abroad, I remain committed to guiding students toward academic excellence while supporting their personal growth and development.

I am deeply passionate about social justice and about helping students discover the power of their own voices. For me, teaching has never been just about academics—it’s about equipping young people with the courage to stand up, speak out, and shape a more just world. When students realize that their ideas matter and their voices can spark change, they begin to see themselves not just as learners, but as leaders. That transformation is what inspires me every day.

One Act of Kindness Can Change Everything I believe one act of kindness can ripple outward and transform not just an individual, but entire schools, institutions, and communities. We often think of change as something monumental, reserved for leaders, governments, or powerful organizations. But real change—the kind that lasts and reshapes culture—often begins with the smallest gestures. A kind word. An act of inclusion. A moment of compassion when it’s least expected. In my 33 years as an educator across five countries, I have witnessed firsthand how kindness ignites connection and belonging. When a child feels seen and valued, they become braver, more resilient, and more willing to extend kindness to others. That single spark has the power to spread—student to student, classroom to classroom—until an entire school culture shifts. And when schools change, they send that ripple of kindness into families, neighborhoods, and communities. Kindness is not weakness; it is courage. It challenges injustice. It heals divisions. It gives people permission to bring their full selves into the world. Imagine what could happen if we stopped underestimating the power of small acts and instead embraced kindness as a force for systemic change. My idea worth spreading is simple but transformative: when we choose kindness—consistently, intentionally, and courageously—we unleash a ripple effect that can change not just lives, but entire communities. One act is all it takes to begin.

Elementary Education, Living and Working Abroad, Math Education, Mentoring Teachers, Reading Education

Change Builds Resilience Change is one of life’s greatest teachers. It rarely comes when we are ready for it, and it rarely leaves us the same. But when we face it—when we allow it to break us open—it has the power to reveal who we truly are. Two experiences in my life changed me so deeply that I will never be the same. The first began in my early 40s. I grew up as an evangelical white Christian, deeply devout in my faith. My life was filled with mission trips, worship services, and Bible study. My identity was woven into my belief system—it told me who I was and why I mattered. But then came the final stages of infertility. After years of hoping, I had to face the devastating realization: I would never be a biological mother. That loss shook me to my core. In trying to heal from that grief, I began to deconstruct my faith. It was as if I pulled on one thread, and suddenly the entire fabric unraveled. I found myself standing in the rubble of everything I once believed, asking: If I am not a Christian, then what do I believe? Who am I? Those questions haunted me for years. But slowly, painfully, I began to rebuild. I discovered parts of myself I had never fully embraced. I was brave. I was intelligent. I was kind. And most of all—I was enough. I didn’t need external validation to tell me who I was. I had walked through grief, and I had come out on the other side with a deeper knowledge of myself than I had ever imagined. And then, just as the dust was beginning to settle, life dealt me another blow: I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Once again, I was shaken to my core. Would I survive? Would I ever be the same? Would I still be a “real woman” or desirable without breasts? Cancer stripped me down to raw vulnerability. And yet—it also gave me a second chance to practice resilience. I dug deep into the strength I had discovered years before, and I found it again. This time, I emerged not just changed, but stronger. I carried scars, both visible and invisible—but those scars became symbols of survival. I was not the same, but I was more. I was a warrior. What I have learned through these two experiences is this: Change will break you. It will strip away who you thought you were. It will leave you standing in the ashes of what used to be. But resilience—the courage to keep going, the courage to keep becoming—resilience will heal you. And when it does, you realize that resilience isn’t about bouncing back. It’s about moving forward. It’s about becoming someone new, someone stronger, someone braver than you ever believed possible. Change broke me. But resilience rebuilt me. And that, I believe, is the gift of change: it gives us the chance not just to survive, but to transform.

The Unexpected Power of Surprising Strengths There’s something people don’t know about me: I’m really good at foosball. In college, I had a foosball table in my dorm and spent countless hours honing my skills. The funny thing was—I didn’t look like the kind of person who would be good at foosball. My friends picked up on this and began making small wagers with other students: “I bet she can beat you.” Time after time, I’d step up to the table, and time after time, I’d win. My friends earned some pocket money, and I earned a reputation for surprising people. Why share a story about foosball? Because it speaks to something bigger: the strengths within us that the world doesn’t always see. Too often, people are judged by appearances, assumptions, or stereotypes. We underestimate others—and sometimes even ourselves—because we don’t recognize the hidden skills, passions, or talents waiting to be revealed. That foosball table taught me an important lesson: the things we practice, the things we commit to, don’t always announce themselves loudly. They live quietly within us until the right moment comes to share them. And when they do, they challenge perceptions, break down biases, and remind us never to judge ability by the cover of the book. Imagine what our communities, our workplaces, our schools would look like if we created more space for people to bring forward their hidden strengths. How many innovators, leaders, or changemakers are being overlooked because no one asked—or believed—they had something extraordinary to offer? My idea worth spreading is this: every person carries within them a surprising strength. Sometimes it’s foosball. Sometimes it’s art, leadership, or resilience. What matters is not the size of the talent but the courage to reveal it and the openness of others to recognize it. When we start valuing the unexpected, we create environments where everyone’s hidden strengths can ripple outward and transform the whole community. So yes—I’m good at foosball. But more importantly, I’ve learned that we are all more than we appear to be. And when we celebrate those unexpected gifts, we unlock potential far beyond what we imagined.