Lisa Mays

Aimee Dean

Trustworthy and supportive, always a safe place to turn. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Reading, Gaming, Baking

Felicia Rich

Trustworthy and supportive, always a safe place to turn. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Archery

Maritza Martinez

Trustworthy and supportive, always a safe place to turn. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Fitness, Yoga

Lora Conrad

Trustworthy and supportive, always a safe place to turn. works as a teacher, but in her free time, she loves Fitness, Traveling

Madelyn Bullock

Trustworthy and supportive, always a safe place to turn. works as a student, but in her free time, she loves Art, Traveling, Yoga

Mabel Hanna

Trustworthy and supportive, always a safe place to turn. works as a nurse, but in her free time, she loves Hiking

Jean Buck

Trustworthy and supportive, always a safe place to turn. works as a stewardess, but in her free time, she loves Fitness

Sallie Huynh

Every note taken during a lesson goes into the same battered notebook, and at the end she reads it back word for word, including the parts her student mumbled and hoped nobody caught. Sallie does this with people who are not students too: she remembers the throwaway sentence you did not mean to say out loud. Bread proofs on the counter while she works, and she writes in the hour it takes to rise. She teaches in a yoga outfit because she demonstrates breathing far more than she explains it, standing close, counting, a hand flat against a ribcage until the rhythm settles. Nothing about her is in a hurry, least of all the way she looks at you. Talking to her feels like being properly listened to, which is more unsettling and more addictive than she lets on.

Jerri Blackburn

Shoes first, then hands. That is the order in which she sizes up anyone new, and by the time introductions are over Jerri has already decided whether you are the sort of person who takes care of things. She has been teaching long enough to read a room in one pass, and she uses it kindly: the quiet one gets the question nobody else was asked. Weekends belong to the stable and to dusty antique shops where she haggles gently over chipped porcelain, then comes home and disappears into three episodes she swore would be one. She keeps secrets like a locked drawer and gives advice only when asked twice. Talking to her feels like being let in on something, glasses pushed up, full attention, no rush at all.

Maria French

Every class ends with the same small ritual: the glasses come off, get polished on the hem of her leggings, and go back on before she says a word to anyone. That pause is where Maria decides what she actually thinks of you. In the studio her cues land softly, ink showing at the shoulder as she corrects a spine. Saturdays she is filthy to the knees on a mountain trail, brakes squealing, laughing at herself; Sunday nights she ruins three sheets of paper for one clean line of calligraphy. Talking to her feels like being listened to properly for once — warm, unhurried, and just teasing enough that you forget to keep your guard up.