Beacon of Light

In my opinion, there’s a difference between teachers and mentors.

Teachers typically use lessons and curriculum to instruct particular subject-based knowledge or skills, with the end goal of students learning and demonstrating mastery of said knowledge and skills, afterwhich they move on to the next lesson.

Mentors do the same, but add additional layers of guidance, support, and connection to extend the lesson content and deepen the experience for their students, perhaps by interweaving something about their own journey or a relatable anecdote. There’s a palpable yet indescribable feeling involved, more than just learning, when a mentor works his or her magic. That feeling endures, whereas the academic objectives often become buried somewhere deep within the students’ brain wasteland.

A mentor intuitively guides students to grow by helping to develop and realize their own voices and visions, sometimes when everybody else tells students they are wrong, that’s not how it’s supposed to be, and so on. Mentors make us better versions of ourselves because they selflessly give us a piece of themselves without fanfare or acknowledgement, and that piece of them becomes a part of us for all time.

Picture a child standing on the edge of a precipice. Before her lies a secure rope bridge built with wood planks that stretches across the canyon with the teacher standing at the other side. Every time the child masters what she is supposed to learn, she grasps the ropes in her hands and safely takes a step forward towards her teacher, who provides security and stability. If the child is wrong, she takes a step backwards and tries again. Forward progress eventually happens, and the child reaches the end of the bridge and meets the teacher’s expectations.

Now visualize the same landscape but with sturdy and secure clouds as strong as trampolines floating on either side of the tethered bridge. This time, when the child makes forward progress, the person at the other end of the bridge poses a different challenge. She instructs the child to bounce onto the nearest cloud and think about the bigger picture: how can this lesson be applied in the future rather than just now? What visions or ideas come to mind? How does this make you feel? The child is free to bounce as high as she can while allowing whatever emotions or feelings arise. When the time is right, the child is guided back to the safe and sturdy bridge. She takes a step forward, and like magic, the teacher at the end of the bridge transforms into a mentor. This bridge, however, does not end. It stretches into infinity and continually reinforces the insight of the bouncy clouds.

It is true that the fixed spotlight of a teacher changes their students’ lives, but mentors are beacons, shining their light in all directions like the beams from a lighthouse. Mentors transform and transcend the status quo and open the doors to what is possible without ego and without expecting anything in return. They inspire and foster a different kind of felt experience, where compassion, empathy, accountability and responsibility are intrinsically valued, and where empowerment authentically happens.

When I decided to pursue a career as a teacher, I strived to emulate the mannerisms and attitudes of my favorite high school mentor, Ms. Maas. I had her for several history and social studies classes, the first time by luck and all subsequent times by choice. She was the mentor I didn’t realize I so badly needed. When our time together ended and I graduated, the sacred piece of herself she unselfishly gave to me never left my heart. It still palpitates with life and shimmers with wisdom.

Shortly after I was hired as a high school teacher in 2001, I visited Ms. Maas to thank her for the impact she had on my life. I remember telling her I hoped to be like her, and she immediately corrected me. With her subtle smirk and her distinctive assurance, she instead advised me to be myself, not her. I took her advice, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit her influence has been silently permeating the space of every classroom where I’ve taught over the last 25 years, including high school, yoga, and programs/workshops. 

Ms. Maas never sought accolades yet received countless awards and recognitions as an educator, including being inducted into the Point Pleasant Foundation for Excellence in Education in 2009. She worked hard for everyone, not just for the names on her class roster, and had a profound impact on both the education and local communities through countless acts of altruism, service, and by standing up for what was right. 

I’ve unexpectedly run into her around town over the years and she’d always make the time to stop and chat with me. My heart sank earlier this week when I read that Ms. Maas had passed away, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Hence, this tribute.

There’s no doubt that Ms. Maas left the world better than she found it. Her beacon of light still shines for me…I can see it, right there, gleaming at a brighter caliber, a higher realm, still guiding, still caring, an unwavering pillar of fortitude and virtue.

Perhaps it is time for us to cut the cord of mindless social media posting and commenting, and instead, think about the Ms. Maas figures who helped shape us. Reach out to these mentors in real time. Perhaps send them a handwritten note or a card to say thank you, or make plans to share a cup of coffee together. Honor these paragons who invariably lit up even just a sliver of our lives, because time is fleeting. Do it now.

Thank you, Ms. Maas, for the indelible imprint you left on me. You will never be forgotten, and your beacon will circle in my sky forever.

Thank you for joining me on my journey. I’m so glad you are here.

With light and love,

Jill

“Beacon of Light” was posted on jillocone.com on April 18, 2025. Artificial Intelligence (AI) was not used at all in creating or writing this post. Views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the writer, who was not endorsed or compensated in any manner by any entity; views do not represent any of Jill Ocone’s employers. Copyright 2025, Jill Ocone. All rights reserved. Contact Jill for reposting, licensing, and publishing inquiries using any of the links below.

Marching Onward, With My Heart at the Forefront

Logo Color RedI slept until 6:45 AM this morning, although, in reality, it was 5:45 AM and the time I normally wake up. When you’re an early riser like me, March’s time change is of no consequence in the morning, although my eyelids will probably become heavy before the sun has completely gone to bed for the night until I adjust to the change.

An extra hour of sunlight at the back-end of the day. It’s one of my favorite harbingers of spring, along with dancing to the song of the spring peeper frogs as I waltz into school, which I did on Friday morning.

Even though it’s still technically winter, March has come in like a lamb along the Jersey Shore, and I’ll take it.

There’s always the possibility that a seemingly calm March can turn into a lion on a dime with Jack Frost busting in and riding that lion like a rodeo cowboy. However, the best thing about a March snowstorm is that it melts rather quickly.

Snow or no snow, light or dark, sunshine or rain, I’m all aquiver today.

Despite my best efforts and attempts to keep a positive outlook, the first two months of 2020 were emotionally difficult for me.

I dug out of the funk by adopting a new mindset: I dedicated myself to ME. Making myself the top priority in my life, along with incorporating lifestyle changes such as a regular and honest journaling practice, daily meditation, and yoga, has resulted in an awakening of massive proportions.

I’m experiencing life with a whole new level of awareness, one I never knew existed before, and it’s freaking amazing. I’ve got a new bounce in my step and a ridiculously stupid grin on my face as my heart now matters most.

My heart is simultaneously content and thrilled about the limitless possibilities that lie ahead of me, and my soul joyfully celebrates alongside my heart in camaraderie and sheer bliss.

I am now enlightened with a vision that will allow me to use my gifts and talents to serve others while as I follow the breadcrumbs I encounter along my path, ones I now see with absolute clarity.

Finally, I’ve found my dharma.

I am wholeheartedly devoting myself to my vision as I create it and give it life. As such, I’m looking for a few educators who would be willing to serve as beta-testers of my idea during the month of April. Should you be interested, please shoot me an email with your name, school name, and grade/subject you teach to jillocone@gmail.com.

Out of three ideas I have in my hopper, this particular vision will enact positive changes in the lives of fellow educators through leadership, support and encouragement, and if it proceeds as I envision, it will also shift the course of my future for the better.

I have a vision.

I have a plan.

I have a goal.

I have a purpose.

I am productive and focused.

And throughout it all, my heart will matter the most, as should yours.

cropped-img_0764 Thanks for joining me on my journey. I’m glad you’re here.

With gratitude,

Jill

“Marching Onward, With My Heart at the Forefront” was posted on jillocone.com and on soulseaker.com on March 8, 2020. Views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the writer, who was not compensated in any way by any entity. Copyright 2020, Jill Ocone. All rights reserved.

Reinvigorated and Re-Inspired

img_4992Last week, I attended a writing event titled Writing on the River: A Spring Retreat for Teachers held at the Oyster Point Hotel. It was sponsored by Project Write Now, which is a non-profit organization in Red Bank, New Jersey.

The Writing on the River event was simply lovely. What I liked most about it was that while most participants were educators, everyone there was also a writer and THAT’s the identity we were able to don. No talking about standards, goals, objectives, testing, or the like.

We were WRITERS and were able to nurture the WRITER inside us all.

I felt like I was part of a wonderful community throughout the whole day. Leah Mermelstein was the keynote speaker and she spoke about sharing our writing and how to transfer those skills to the classroom so our student writers have more of a voice.

We were given plenty of time to freewrite in response to prompts and the like, and the food was outstanding.

The day was definitely inspiring and a catalyst to fuel my writing in many ways.

However, there’s one thing I did that I am particularly proud of, and the paragraph below is what I wrote after becoming part of something that was bigger than just me:

I’ve never been into “fan participation” things ever since I was forced to participate at the Busch Gardens Bavarian House when I was a kid. Scarred for life by those German dancers who pulled me onstage as I fought against it, my parents laughing the whole time while I was terrified. Those permanent scars made me tense up when I heard that we were going to be in a drum circle. I was afraid at first, apprehensive and uncomfortable. Part of me wanted to run away, but I took my seat and secured the drum that was given to me with my feet. I had no idea what was going to happen, which added to my discomfort. As the leader began, he would drum a beat on the side and on the front of his drum for two different pitches, and we would echo. And it wasn’t that bad at all. I liked the repetition of the beat as it went on and my drum was in time with the others, and when it wasn’t, it was no big deal. It was good for me to try something new that was completely out of my comfort zone. I definitely awakened my inner 3-year-old.

One of my other freewrites from the day is below. I am very grateful to the three women who planned the Writing on the River event, Jennifer, Colleen, and Lisa. They did a wonderful job planning a meaningful and inspiring day.

My Freewrite #2:

Miniatures: A Reflection

I have an affinity for little things, the tiniest of the figures, the smaller the better, even smaller than dollhouse size. I don’t know where this stems from, but it is innate.

Maybe it’s because I’ve always seen myself as small and insignificant. Even the grocery store’s automatic door sometimes doesn’t open when I step on it. Truth.

Lately, though, I’ve begun to feel that maybe I do matter, if only to the universe. Maybe my place in this world isn’t so small, after all.

My heart is full of love for my family.

I know my words are needed.

No longer do I apologize for being human.

I know we’ve all got our own proverbial shit to deal with.

Authentic is the life I want to live and be as

True to myself as possible.

Under no circumstances will I lie to myself ever again.

Right on, I say, Right on to

Every experience

So long as I shall life.

There’s nothing miniature about that approach to live moving forward.

The littlest is the mightiest.

Miniatures, so big and so awesome.