My “Pie in the Sky” dream is simple to say, but enormous to build: I want to become the Head Librarian at State Technical College of Missouri and use that role to create a strong, practical support system for returning and nontraditional students. It’s the kind of dream that feels both ambitious and deeply personal, because it grows out of my own winding path back to education. What sparked this dream was a mix of motherhood, midlife reinvention, and the many unpredictable turns of my adult life. I’ve spent years raising two daughters—one neurotypical, one with special needs—while moving from town to town for my husband’s ministry positions and trying to build stability for our family. Along the way, I’ve worked in libraries, in education, and in environments where people were doing their best to build something better for themselves despite complicated circumstances. Returning to college in my late thirties has shown me just how many students walk similar tightropes. At the technical college where I work, nearly a quarter of our students are adults who have come back after years away. Many juggle kids, jobs, medical needs, relocations, or finances stretched to their thinnest limits. They don’t lack intelligence or grit—they just need guidance that’s designed with their reality in mind. That’s why my dream centers on creating a Returning Student Toolkit: a set of resources, workshops, checklists, and road maps aimed at the student who is returning after a long pause or entering higher education for the first time in midlife. I want to help people walk into the library and feel less alone, less overwhelmed, and more capable than they sometimes believe themselves to be. I want them to have step-by-step support on everything from time management to navigating academic technology to understanding the emotional hurdles that come with starting over. The steps I need to take to reach this dream are challenging but clear. First, I need to complete my bachelor’s degree—something I’m steadily working toward, even when life throws curveballs. Second, I need to keep deepening my experience in the library where I already work, learning the administrative and leadership skills that will someday allow me to take on a department of my own. Third, I need to continue building relationships throughout campus so that the future toolkit is shaped not just by my ideas but by the lived needs of our students. This dream feels slightly out of reach because it’s big, and because life has never been particularly simple for me. But it inspires me because every part of it touches something I care about—education, community, and the quiet determination required to try again when the easy option would be to stay put. I want my daughters to see that big dreams are allowed at any age, and that reinvention is not a sign of failure—it’s a sign of courage. If I’m fortunate enough to achieve this “Pie in the Sky” goal, it won’t be just my life that changes. I’ll get to help others find their footing and move toward futures they once thought were too far away to claim.