Choosing Curiosity: Jessica Lloyd’s Path to Radical Joy
Before the halls filled with students for the start of the school year, our faculty and staff gathered for our opening welcome meeting. Prior to the event, Head of School Chelle Wabrek asked our team to reflect on two fundamental questions: Why this work? And why here at MICDS? Here is what Jessica Lloyd ’91, Third Grade Homeroom Teacher, shared about her journey and purpose.
From the very beginning, my life has been shaped by two guiding forces: an insatiable curiosity and an intentional pursuit of joy.
As a child growing up in the 70s and early 80s, I spent a lot of time outside. Summer days were spent finding things to do. I learned to be curious and to make the long days joyful. We made our own fun! The most memorable summer project was creating a mini summer camp for neighborhood kids. I hand-wrote flyers, loaded a stroller with children’s books, and went door to door, essentially begging families to allow their children to spend time with me. I remember five or six children coming every morning for a few hours, where I provided story time, free play, structured games, and snacks. I felt a profound sense of pride having done it on my own. I was responsible for the happiness and care of younger children. It was my first taste of the pure joy that comes from cultivating a community of learning.
This early spark grew into a deeper fascination with the psychology of childhood during my high school years at Mary Institute. Through a program called HISTEP (High School Taught Elementary Program), we were trained to “step” into Beasley classrooms to lead social-emotional learning lessons. I wasn’t just interested in teaching academic subjects; I was captivated by how children felt, how they interacted, and how they understood their world. This curiosity expanded during my college years, pulling me toward diverse forms of service. I volunteered at an after-school program for unhoused families in Yonkers and shadowed a child advocate navigating the complex New York City court system. I was a psychology major searching for a way to thread these interests together.
The turning point came when a professor who knew me well asked a paradigm-shifting question: Have you ever considered becoming a teacher? She helped me see that the classroom was not just a place for textbooks, but the ultimate intersection of social work, child advocacy, and developmental psychology. Intrigued, I began working at the college’s Early Childhood Lab School and immediately enrolled in their Art of Teaching Program.
Later, while teaching fifth and sixth grades at Central Park East 1 in East Harlem, NY, I came to understand what the power of curiosity and CHOICE in education could mean for children. As an inquiry-based school, children followed their wonderings, expected to fail, practiced resilience, and reveled in successes. Agency was cultivated even in our youngest Pre-K learners. I remember a school-wide exploration of Ancient Egypt that invited children to teach each other across age groups. Joyful learning. Curious learning. Ownership of learning. Every single day presented a fresh challenge, a new discovery, and an abundance of joy. I knew I had found what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.
However, an educator’s path is rarely without friction. After returning to St. Louis to teach third grade at Cote Brilliante Elementary School in the St. Louis Public School system, I ran headfirst into bureaucratic barriers and administrative systems that felt disconnected from the true needs of children. For the first time in my career, my innate curiosity was threatened by the heavy weight of frustration and systemic injustice. I worked every day to create opportunities for my students to ask, “What if I? What if you? What if we?” While I felt successful creating community within our four walls, our door remained closed, and there was a disconnect between our classroom and the larger school and neighborhood communities. I left teaching after having my second child. I was burnt out.
In that season of struggle, I discovered the concept of “Radical Joy.” Radical joy is not a superficial distraction or a naive optimism; it is a deliberate, profound choice to cultivate happiness, pleasure, and connection as an act of resistance, resilience, and personal liberation in the face of hardship or burnout.
Embracing joy as a form of resistance altered my life completely, carrying me not only through professional hurdles but also through the deeply personal challenges of raising my own children and surviving a long journey with cancer.
When I was offered the opportunity to return to the classroom at MICDS, I wondered if I could still make the impact I desired and if I would feel a similar call to advocate for children and families. I worried whether my need for curiosity and authentic joy would be realized here.
My fears dissipated as I became part of the Beasley community. Of course, children are children wherever you go – the students at MICDS taught me that. They possess the same curiosity, kindness, and eagerness to learn as the children I taught in the heart of the city. While the external challenges of the two environments are distinct, when we sit together, in a circle on our classroom rug, our needs, desires, and capacities for wonder are remarkably similar.
This full circle moment is not lost on me. Following my curiosity into the Beasley classrooms as a Mary Institute senior first uncovered my joy for working with children. Remarkably, that same passion led me right back to these very rooms 35 years later. I am so grateful that I continue to have the privileged opportunity and responsibility to help shape the future change makers of our world.
I am hopeful that we will continue to encourage all of our learners, from our youngest JK-ers to our graduating seniors, to come together through meaningful and joyful work, develop community across divisions, and to foster curiosity every day.
So my why?
I teach children to protect their curiosity, to advocate for their well-being, and to practice the resistant art of radical joy.
