In November 2023, my search for a “home” in academia began. Like many others, I had never considered my workplace as “home.” It wasn’t until my position at Johns Hopkins ended that I had the time to deeply reflect on my career and where I truly belonged. Growing up, my primary career aspiration was to be a homemaker. All I ever wanted was to be a wife and mother. However, I remained single until I was almost 40. By that time, I was completing a PhD, deeply involved with both private and public school education, and even after having my first child, I did not feel the call to be a full-time homemaker.
I have immense respect for homemakers—my mother and grandmother were both dedicated to that role—but I felt that God was calling me to find a balance between working outside the home and homemaking. For me, the key was finding a workplace that allowed me to prioritize my marriage and children. My experience at Johns Hopkins showed me how much I enjoyed having a meaningful career outside the home, while still being able to prioritize my family. It was not an easy job, but it offered me the flexibility to work while being present for my family.
This journey has led me to seek a new academic position that not only aligns with my professional aspirations but also supports my commitment to my family. I am looking for a place that feels like “home”—a workplace that understands and respects the importance of family, offering the flexibility and support needed to balance both personal and professional responsibilities effectively.
Where would I find a place that valued my professional background but also respected my passion for my family? I think I found that place.
I have always integrated my faith into everything I do. In secular academic spaces, this can be challenging because there is a fear of sharing this part of myself. I don’t want to offend anyone or make anyone feel less valued because our beliefs differ. I was cautious in expressing my faith, but sometimes the boldness I craved seemed inappropriate. A secular academic environment is home to a diverse group of people, and I am a firm believer in pluralism. This world does not just belong to Christians. Romans 12:18 says, “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” I believe that part of showing God’s love and light is respecting people’s beliefs. I feel Christ exemplified this in his interactions with Nicodemus, a Pharisee. Jesus was so kind to him that Nicodemus felt welcomed to question and engage with Him, feeling Christ’s unconditional love.
However, due to some personal experiences, my passion for my faith is so intense that there are times when it is hard to contain the joy I have in Christ alone. It would be Heaven on Earth to work in a place, whether secular or faith-based, that welcomed me to be free and open about my faith and its teachings. What a wonderful place it would be if my faith were seen as part of the intellectual and academic tradition.
I am seeking an academic environment that respects and even values the integration of my faith with my professional work. Such an environment would not only allow me to be authentic but also enable me to contribute fully to the academic community. This dream workplace would recognize that my faith enriches my academic pursuits and interactions, creating a harmonious space where diversity of thought and belief is celebrated.
Where would I find a place that valued my professional background but also respected my passion for my faith? I think I found that place.
From the time I was a little girl, I was taught the importance of pursuing racial healing. I remember my dad’s ministry work, which involved building bridges between races, cultures, and even religions. This process included a deep understanding of Black history and its connection to all other histories. The current conversations around this topic are troubling to me on both sides. Some academic spaces lean right, often focusing more on forgetting the past and emphasizing forgiveness without giving people the space to share their stories and work through healing based on truth and authenticity. Others dwell excessively on the past, allowing bitterness to fester. Both of these approaches continue to divide us.
We will only heal through facing the truth, practicing forgiveness, extending grace, and moving forward together. I have worked in environments that rejected my perspective on using mediation to address racial tensions in the workplace. These places were isolating because I do not believe in the punitive process of addressing racial issues. I do not desire to see people fired, shamed, mocked, or bullied for saying or doing insensitive things. I feel it should be a learning process that we all work through together. Hundreds of years of racism in America have hurt and scarred all of us. The healing process has been impeded at every turn. Healing will take time, and if done well, people can learn and grow from it instead of being shamed for it.
Others have rejected my perspective that people should be able to share their human experiences as a way to find healing. In these cases, there is an oppression where people of color often feel silenced and afraid to share their history. These environments make many of us feel as if our stories are inferior and unwelcome. Both of these approaches—punitive measures and silencing stories—are divisive and demeaning. Both are a threat to human dignity. Both hinder true healing.
I seek an academic environment that embraces a holistic approach to racial healing, one that encourages open dialogue and mediation. This environment would allow for the sharing of personal histories and experiences as a path to understanding and reconciliation. It would be a place where everyone feels valued and heard, where the focus is on collective growth and healing rather than punishment or silence. Such a space would foster true racial healing, grounded in truth, empathy, and mutual respect.
Where would I find a place that valued my professional background but also respected my passion for racial healing through mediation, civil discourse and unconditional love and grace? I think I found that place.
Ever since my mom and dad started their classical school, I have been completely enthralled by the classical tradition. The more I read and study it, the more I learn about its history around the world, and the more I am inspired by each author, historian, artist, philosopher, and theologian. Immersing myself in the classical tradition has become a profound passion. Devoting my life’s work to researching its connection to all of humanity has been the joy of my heart and life (of course, after Christ, my husband, and my kids).
At times, I have taken positions that conflicted with this passion. These jobs were primarily a means to make money, although I am grateful for each one because of the skills I obtained through them. However, they did not allow me to delve deeply into the classical tradition through writing, research, lecturing, and more. It would be a tremendous blessing to work in a space that supports my work in classics and the classical tradition. I dream of working in a place that celebrates this scholarship and creates a home for it.
Sometimes I have felt like a nomad in academia, lecturing here and there, adjuncting here and there, leading programs here and there. I have tried many places, seeking where I can plant roots and create work and projects devoted to classical education, the classical tradition, and its connection to all of us. With each interview, I have made it clear that this time around, I do not want to leave. Wherever I go next must be a long-term “home.”
I am looking for an academic environment that not only appreciates but also actively encourages and supports my dedication to the classical tradition. Such a place would allow me to engage deeply with my research, teaching, and writing, providing the stability and continuity needed to cultivate meaningful contributions to the field. It would be amazing to be part of a community that values and nurtures this work, offering a true sense of belonging and purpose.
Where would I find a place that valued my professional background but also respected my passion for classical education and the classical tradition? I think I found that place.
My favorite uncle passed away in 2017, just two years after I started The Living Water School. Before he passed, he visited me when our school was still a regular “brick and mortar” institution, before the pandemic changed everything. He walked into my office and started laughing heartily. I looked up from my desk, saw him laughing, and couldn’t help but join in. Through my giggles, I asked, “What are you laughing at, Uncle Milt?” Still laughing, he said, “Do you know you’ve always wanted to be a teacher? Almost since you were born. I remember you lining up all your stuffed animals and dolls to play school.” He was right. I have always wanted to be a teacher. Even after my very challenging first year as a teacher in 1995, I knew by the end of that year that I would be a teacher until I died.
In my nomadic journey to finding home, starting at Howard University, University of Maryland, and Messiah University, I wasn’t in the education department. I was either in the classics or humanities departments. Even though I loved teaching in these spaces, I yearned to be in an education program where I could share my background with budding teachers. It is hard to find “home” in most education departments when you are a Black woman who loves the classical tradition. It is an odd combination that many people find confusing, leery, or dismissive. The world has not yet come to see what I see—that classical education can close the achievement gap (more on that in another blog post or article).
Dr. David Steiner and Dr. Ashley Berner were the first to welcome me into an education department at the Johns Hopkins Institute for Education Policy. I was almost “home,” but something was missing: I was only doing research and didn’t have the opportunity to teach university students. Sharing similar perspectives on education with Dr. Steiner and Dr. Berner made it very hard for me to leave, even though I wasn’t quite following my desire to teach upcoming teachers. The research experience was phenomenal. I had always wanted to be involved in intense educational research, but I spent most of my time behind a computer at my desk with little interaction. Even still, it was an enjoyable job, but God in His sovereignty brought that time to an end.
Perhaps my next home will be in an education department where I can incorporate my experience in public, private, charter, and religious schools into teaching and mentoring the next generation of teachers. I dream of a place where my love for the classical tradition and my passion for education can intersect, providing a nurturing environment for future educators. This would be a place where my diverse experiences and unique perspectives are not only welcomed but celebrated.
Where would I find a place that valued my professional background in K12 education and gave me the opportunity to train the next generation of teachers, while also allowing me to share my passion for the classical tradition and classical education? I think I found that place.
So where is this place? I can’t say just yet, but this poem by one of my favorite authors John O’Donahue reminds me of the feelings I had when I visited this place. Stay tuned.
For A New Home
May this house shelter your life.
When you come home here,
May all the weight of the world
Fall from your shoulders.
May your heart be tranquil here,
Blessed by peace the world cannot give.
May this home be a lucky place,
Where the graces your life desires
Always find the pathway to your door.
May nothing destructive
Ever cross your threshold.
May this be a safe place
Full of understanding and acceptance,
Where you can be as you are,
Without the need of any mask
Of pretense or image.
May this home be a place of discovery,
Where the possibilities that sleep
In the clay of your soul can emerge
To deepen and refine your vision
For all that is yet to come to birth.
May it be a house of courage,
Where healing and growth are loved,
Where dignity and forgiveness prevail;
A home where patience of spirit is prized,
And the sight of the destination is never lost
Though the journey be difficult and slow.
May there be great delight around this hearth.
May it be a house of welcome
For the broken and diminished.
May you have the eyes to see
That no visitor arrives without a gift
And no guest leaves without a blessing.
Dr. Anika T. Prather 