Posted
August 27, 2025
New IB Coordinator Simon Masters brings a life of discovery to the St. Edward classroom. A former dairy farmer turned paleontologist turned educator, Simon reflects on his unconventional journey, why he sees education as a lifelong adventure, and how curiosity, character, and global perspective all come together in the classroom.
What first caught your attention about St. Edward, and why did you feel this was the right community for your next chapter?
I was drawn to St. Ed’s because it’s a place that truly believes education should go beyond the classroom—it’s about shaping the whole person. The school’s faith-based and relationship-driven approach really spoke to me, and the strength of its International Baccalaureate program stood out right away. I love how the school brings curiosity, character, and global perspective all together. I knew I wanted to be part of that!
Your career path spans farming, paleontology, and education—a trajectory that almost reads like three different lives. Tell us more about those experiences.
In many ways, my career has come full circle. I grew up on a 200-acre farm in Wisconsin, spending my childhood tending cows and pigs before eventually trading the farm for fossils. At the University of Wisconsin–Madison, I earned a bachelor’s in geology and zoology, followed by a master’s in biology at Western Illinois University.
For the next eight years, I worked as a vertebrate paleontologist in Utah, leading student digs and unearthing dinosaurs across the U.S. Yet, whether I was on the farm, in the field, or in the lab, teaching always seemed to be at the heart of what I was doing.
People often ask how I became a teacher, and while there wasn’t one defining moment, there was a turning point. In Utah, I was training a retired carpet layer to identify fossils. He had no traditional background in science, but soon he was thriving—spotting real fossils, contributing to the work, and feeling proud of himself in a way he hadn’t expected. Watching someone discover they were capable of more than they imagined stuck with me. That was the spark: I realized I loved helping people grow.
When my wife and I later moved to Cleveland to be closer to her family, the next step felt natural. Education was the road I wanted to take. I joined Beaumont High School, where over the years I taught science, directed summer digs, chaired the department, coordinated the IB program, and eventually served as dean of academics. Along the way, I also earned an M.A. in educational administration from Ursuline College.
When did your interest in dinosaurs begin? What do they teach us about discovery and the way human knowledge evolves?
Dinosaurs have always captivated me—giants that remind us of both the fragility and resilience of life on Earth. They’re also the perfect classroom example of how knowledge changes over time. Every new fossil discovery has the power to reshape our understanding. And they show the fusion of disciplines: paleontologists rely on artists to help reconstruct what these creatures may have looked like, blending science and art into a shared vision of the past. That kind of intersection mirrors what education should be—interconnected, creative, and always evolving.
One of my favorite IB classes to teach is Theory of Knowledge, which is at the heart of the IB Diploma. It asks students to wrestle with questions like: How do we know what we know? Why does it matter? Who decides what gets into textbooks—and how do our perceptions shape the “truths” we accept? I love exploring these questions with students because it’s so closely tied to how you have to think as a scientist. Studying dinosaurs means studying a world that existed long before us, piecing together evidence to form a picture we know will keep changing.
You’ve described yourself as both a teacher and a guide. What does that look like in practice when you step into a classroom?
I believe that every student can and must learn—and it’s my responsibility to meet them where they are. More than anything, I strive to create an environment where authentic relationships are built, because meaningful learning always grows out of trust and connection.
You’ve joked about being a lactose-intolerant former dairy farmer. What does that kind of irony teach you about resilience and perspective?
A fun fact about me is that I grew up dairy farming, yet I’m lactose intolerant. Our family farm had 500 pigs, 50 cows, and an 18-station barn—a quintessential Wisconsin farm. Looking back, those long days of chores instilled a work ethic and resilience that continue to shape who I am today. Sometimes the ironies in life keep us humble and remind us not to take ourselves too seriously.
What do you like to do in your spare time?
My wife and I both love the outdoors—we actually met as college interns at Dinosaur National Monument, one of the richest fossil sites in the world. Now with our kids, Austin (fourth grade) and Eliana (kindergarten), we spend a lot of time hiking, visiting nature centers, and exploring museums. At home, life is busy but fun, and our kids remind me every day that education isn’t just a job—it’s something that shapes families as much as students.
