As teachers, we're constantly collecting information about our students. Assessments, classwork, exit tickets, observations, and the everyday moments when you realize a student isn't understanding something. All of it tells us something important about where our students are and what they need next.

But collecting that information and being able to act on it are two very different things.

I spent countless hours grading assignments, analyzing student performance, and looking for patterns. Which students were struggling with the same concept? Who needed additional practice? Who was ready to move forward? Sometimes the answers were obvious. Other times, I had to piece them together from gradebooks, assessment platforms, and notes I'd made throughout the week.

And once I finally had a clear picture of what my students needed, the next challenge began.

Finding the right resources.

Not just another worksheet or activity, but something that addressed the specific misunderstanding or skill gap I'd identified. I searched through resource sites, adapted materials, created my own, and tried to make everything fit the students sitting in front of me.

Sometimes, by the time I'd finished grading, analyzed the results, and found or created an appropriate intervention, a week or two had passed. We'd moved on to new lessons, but those students still needed help with the concepts we'd left behind.

That was the part that frustrated me most. I knew what needed to happen instructionally, but getting from the data to the actual support took far longer than it should have.

I tried different tools and resources over the years. Some were genuinely helpful. But they rarely worked together. One platform held the assessment results. Another helped with planning. Somewhere else, I searched for materials. And I was the person responsible for connecting all of it.

Last year, I taught one of the most challenging groups of students I'd encountered in my career, both academically and behaviorally. I came in every day determined to find ways to help them succeed, but I kept running into those same limitations.

I wasn't looking for a tool to replace my judgment as a teacher. I wanted something that would help me use that judgment more effectively, without spending hours moving between disconnected systems and searching for resources.

And by that point, the frustration wasn't something I could simply leave at school.

That frustration came home with me.

A Sunday Drive Home

In April, Kevin and I drove to New Mexico to celebrate our oldest granddaughter's birthday. On the way home — somewhere around Tucson, still almost three hours from our front door — I started going through everything I still needed to get done before school the next morning.

As I was sharing my list with Kevin and the frustrations I had, he stopped me and asked me a question.

"If there was one place — one tool — that could actually make your life easier as a teacher, what would it need to do?"

Kevin has spent his career in technology leadership, with experience developing software and building technology solutions. I have always known this. But the teaching world and the tech world don't tend to talk to each other, and it had never occurred to me that the two of us could do something about this problem together.

In that moment, our two worlds came together. We spent the rest of the drive talking about how we could make teaching easier and give teachers more time to focus on their students.

The idea was never just about me, but about others like me. Teachers who love what they do, care deeply about their students, and want to make a difference.

By the time we got home, we had the beginnings of something real. We knew the problem we wanted to solve, who we wanted to help, and even what we wanted to call it.

Ivaro.

What We're Building, and Why

The idea has always been the same: one connected workspace where a teacher can plan, grade, create materials, and identify what students need — and then actually get the resources to address those needs, without leaving to go find them somewhere else.

Connecting those last two pieces was what I could never find a way to do efficiently.

I knew how to assess my students and determine what they needed. What I didn't have was a way to do it quickly enough to respond when it mattered most. I needed the information, the resources, and the next instructional step to come together without spending hours making it happen myself — while there was still time to make a difference.

We're building Ivaro so that grading doesn't end at the score. We want teachers to be able to see patterns in student understanding, identify who needs additional support, and move directly toward the resources that can help — all within one connected workspace. The goal is to make that entire process faster, simpler, and more useful for teachers.

Kevin started building Ivaro almost immediately. While I finished the school year, he focused on the technical development, and I continued bringing my classroom experience and ideas into the process. Once the school year ended, I was able to devote more of my time to building Ivaro alongside him. We've been working on it together ever since.

Where We Are Now

We're close to opening Ivaro to our first ten Preview Advisors — teachers who will use it, push it, and tell us everything that needs to be better. Their feedback will help us refine Ivaro as we prepare for a broader launch.

I won't pretend I'm not nervous. I am. I'm excited and terrified at the same time. There are days I'm completely sure about this, and there are days I wonder if we can actually pull it off.

But I spent years running into the same wall, across the grade levels and classrooms where I've taught. I know what this problem costs teachers. I know what it costs their students.

I didn't build Ivaro because I wanted to start a company. I built it because I ran out of patience waiting for someone else to fix this.