For twenty years, Samantha lived and breathed education. As a senior leader in a Department for Education-recognised teaching school, her resume was the definition of “success.” She led safeguarding, mentored the next generation of educators, and spearheaded regional improvements.

But behind the professional accolades, the cost was becoming unsustainable.

“It was immensely stressful,” Samantha recalls. “I was working excessive hours, my health was deteriorating, and my body was telling me, ‘no more’”.

Samantha’s story is a familiar one to those in the profession. The passion is there, but the pressure is relentless. Having developed an autoimmune condition just two years into her career, she was eventually forced to face a hard truth: she was running on empty.

The Moment the “Why” Changed

The catalyst for Samantha’s career pivot didn’t come from a spreadsheet or a board meeting, but from a moment of raw, human connection. While arranging respite care for a child in her school, Samantha met the foster family stepping in to help.

“I went back to my office and burst into tears,” she says. “I wanted it to work so desperately for that little girl. That’s when the thought first hit me: That’s what I want to do”.

Despite the clarity of that moment, the fear of leaving was real. For many teachers, the classroom isn’t just a job; it’s an identity. “I’d channelled my whole life into teaching, so leaving felt terrifying,” Samantha admits. “People talk about transferable skills, but it’s hard to see them in yourself when you’ve been pigeonholed for two decades”.

Finding a New Way to Lead

After a period of recovery and a brief stint in the civil service, Samantha realised she missed the “hands-on” impact of working with children. She began deconstructing the myths surrounding foster care, applying her educator’s lens to a new challenge.

“I wanted to understand it. There’s a misconception about ‘difficult’ behaviour in care, but I knew from the classroom that behaviour is communication. If a child is struggling, that’s their way of telling you what’s going on inside”.

This realisation was the bridge between her past and her future. When she found Compass Fostering, their “REACH” therapeutic model felt instantly familiar; it mirrored the evidence-based school models she had once implemented.

Samantha credits Compass’ wraparound support for helping her thrive. “From day one, I was linked with other foster carers who shared their experiences and guided me through training. My supervising social worker, Kayla, was brilliant – no question was too small. I always felt listened to and reassured”.

She’s also proud to be part of an agency that actively seeks young people’s views, supports children seeking sanctuary, and values the voices of foster carers. “It feels like Compass listens and acts on what children and carers say”.

A Life Reclaimed

Today, Samantha’s life looks radically different. Through a fast-track approval process, she welcomed her first foster child nearly two years ago, a match that has since become long-term.

“Having her has changed my life for the better,” she says. “She’s fun, funny, and resilient. My world is centred around her in the best way”.

Perhaps most importantly for those feeling trapped in the 70-hour work week, fostering has given Samantha her autonomy back. She now balances her role as a carer with self-employed school consultancy, staying connected to education on her own terms, without the stress.

To the Teacher Looking for the Exit

Samantha’s message to her former colleagues is clear: your skills are not just transferable; they are transformative.

“If my story can help someone move forward out of a career that’s making them unwell, then let’s go,” she says. “Fostering isn’t without its challenges, but it is one of the most rewarding things you can do. When you stop managing a classroom and start changing a life, everything shifts”.