The Human Side of Credentialing: Stories of Gratitude, Tears, and Life-Changing Moments

Most people think of educator credentialing as a purely bureaucratic process—paperwork, deadlines, and compliance. But for me, it has always been about the people. It’s about the teachers who just want to do what they love, the administrators trying to make things work, and the countless moments where the right guidance can change a career—or even a life.

My customer service superpower has always been finding a way to be relatable. Whether it was talking sports, sharing stories about my kids, or mentioning how my mom was a teacher, I always found a common thread to turn each transaction into something more human. A visit to the credentials office could have been just another frustrating errand, but I made sure it wasn’t. By the time they left, they weren’t just getting help with their credentials—they had connected with “that nice guy in credentials” who made the process feel a little easier. Even if I couldn’t get them exactly what they wanted, they walked away with a plan, some homework, and the confidence that they had an ally and advocate on their side.

Lessons from MaryJane: It’s More Than Just Paperwork

One of the most important lessons I ever learned in this job came from my mentor and former boss, MaryJane. She always reminded me that what we do as credentialing specialists could be a matter of life and death for the teacher sitting across from us. That may sound dramatic, but I’ve seen firsthand how true it is.

One fall day, I met a teacher—I’ll call her Christine—who had just driven in from a faraway state with her husband and two small children. She had a job lined up in one of the local districts, had submitted her application to the state for her California credential through reciprocity, and now needed a temporary permit from me to start teaching.

Everything seemed routine until I asked to review her application. That’s when I realized something was very wrong.

Her out-of-state license was listed as probationary, which wasn’t equivalent to a California credential and therefore did not qualify for reciprocity. She had completed her program at university, and her state was in the process of converting her license to a preliminary credential, which would meet California’s requirements. But as it stood at that moment, her application was set to be denied. No credential, no job.

I watched the panic set in. Christine’s husband and kids were waiting in the car. They had just spent most of their money on rent for their apartment. They had no furniture, barely any food. If she couldn’t work, they had no way to make ends meet.

At that moment, I knew I had to think outside the box.

I immediately called the state and had them rescind her application so it wouldn’t be denied outright. Then, I helped Christine put together an application for a substitute permit, which would buy her about six weeks to get her out-of-state license converted. I called her school district and explained the situation. Thankfully, I have a great relationship with the districts I support, and they were incredibly understanding.

Christine was in tears when we started our conversation that day—I don’t blame her. Any parent in her position would be overwhelmed. But by the end of it, she had a plan, a job, and hope. She could start teaching and, most importantly, get paid.

A few weeks later, Christine came back with her newly issued out-of-state license and a completed application for her California credential. We sent it to the state, and the rest is history. I like to think she’s in the middle of a successful teaching career today.

Helping "C" Take the Smarter Path

Another one of my favorite success stories is about “C.” We met well over a decade ago when she came to me for credentialing advice, but we quickly became fast friends. Why? Because we were both military brats who had lived overseas. That connection turned what could have been just another transaction into a conversation filled with shared experiences—talking about life on base, moving from country to country, and what it was like growing up as an American abroad.

C wanted to add an authorization to her existing credential, and she was dead set on taking classes to do it. She had already convinced herself that this was the only way, but I knew better. I explained that while taking classes was one option, it was also the longest and most exhausting path. There was a much faster way to get where she wanted to go: passing the appropriate subject matter exams instead of sitting through coursework. The only class she actually needed was a methodology course.

After some discussion (and maybe a little friendly persuasion), she trusted me and took the exam route instead. Not only did she get the authorization she originally wanted, but she found the process so much easier that she decided to add even more authorizations.

Fast forward to today—C has since left California and is now a successful teacher for the Department of Defense,working on an American military base in Germany. She teaches military dependents, just like we both once were. What started as a simple credentialing appointment turned into a lasting friendship, and it’s incredible to know that a small piece of advice helped shape the career she has today.

Patty: A Crisis Averted

Patty was my son's teacher at the time I was serving as the Credentials Services Manager. One of my responsibilities was reviewing payroll holds for the districts in our county, as payroll was tied directly to credential validity—no credential, no paycheck. My staff would input credential expirations into the payroll system to prevent payment if a credential lapsed, but I reviewed everything before payroll was finalized. One day, while going line by line through all the teachers at risk of having their pay held, I saw Patty’s name.

Educators are responsible for keeping their credentials valid, and while the county sends reminders to districts, we aren’t in the business of notifying every individual. Additionally, the state had moved to an online renewal system, which meant credentials were issued upon application and could not be backdated. This meant that if Patty didn’t renew on time, she would miss out on pay for every single day her credential was lapsed.

I wasn’t about to let that happen to my son’s teacher. So, I told him to let her know she needed to stop by my office after school. I still laugh about it today because it probably felt like she was being sent to the principal’s office for bad behavior! But no, I just needed to help her avoid a payroll disaster.

She came in, and we processed a paper renewal application—which, unlike the online version, allowed for backdating. We submitted it right away, and she was issued a temporary credential that ensured she never missed a paycheck. Another crisis averted, and another teacher saved from unnecessary stress. Moments like these remind me that while I can’t help everyone, the ones I do help make it all worth it.

Turning Transactions into Relationships

Credentialing isn’t just about compliance—it’s about keeping great educators in the classroom, supporting them through the process, and making sure schools have the right people for the right jobs. I know I won’t always be able to give everyone exactly what they want, but they’ll always leave my office knowing that I fought for them.

And if nothing else, they’ll walk away remembering the nice guy in credentials who made the process feel a little more human.