Shared January 2, 2026, at the Parents and Children Together In-Service 

By Edward Condon, executive director, Head Start WEST

What do you want 2026 to feel like?

As we step into a new year, many of us are still carrying the weight of 2025—a year marked by uncertainty, discomfort, and moments that tested our resolve. Did that feeling find its way into your own life? Did you feel unsettled at times, unsure of what might come next?

For me, 2025 felt like living in two very different realities.

In my personal life, it was a year filled with anticipation and joy. My first grandchild was born in late October, meaning much of the year was spent waiting—with excitement, high expectations, and celebration. My daughter became engaged to a wonderful partner, and my husband began planning for retirement after years of dedication and accomplishment. In many ways, 2025 overflowed with hope.

And yet, in our shared public space—our community and national conversation—many of the values I hold dear were challenged. Some were dismissed. Others felt fragile. For Head Start, there were moments when the program itself was rumored to be eliminated.

Like many of you, I have devoted much of my life—25 years—to the Head Start community. This work is not just what I do; it is part of who I am. Head Start has always been a source of resilience and hope—for families, for staff, and for me personally. It represents a national commitment to opportunity, dignity, and possibility. So, the uncertainty of 2025 was not abstract. It was deeply personal.

And here is the truth: that uncertainty is likely to remain with us in 2026.

I wish I could offer easier news. But many of the forces that question the value of Head Start and programs like ours will likely continue—and may even intensify—their efforts. Being positive does not mean ignoring reality. It means facing it with clarity and purpose.

So, I return to the question:

What do you want 2026 to feel like?

We cannot look away from the challenges ahead. But we can choose how we respond. We are called to carve a path that ensures—no matter the headwinds—we remain a source of resilience and hope for ourselves and for those we serve.

That means modeling our values.
Creating meaningful and engaging visions.
Challenging assumptions.
Supporting one another in moments of struggle.
And celebrating every small joy and wins along the way.

Because together, these actions make us a reliable force for good.

As Ralph Waldo Emerson reminds us, “Your actions speak so loudly, I cannot hear what you are saying.” Or, as my friends in Hawaiʻi often say, “No task is too big when done together.”

When I reflect on what I want 2026 to feel like, three words rise to the surface:

For myself: Hope

Hope I may feel like a familiar or even overused word—but that is precisely why I choose it. Hope is easy to remember. It shows up everywhere: in faith traditions and mindfulness practices, in songs and prayers, and in everyday acts of kindness. Hope deepens our resilience.

In 2026, hope will be my compass—my north star. Not as a passive wish, but as an action. A verb. A guide for how I prioritize my time, my energy, and my decisions as a father, a grandfather, and a leader.

For my community: Belonging

I am shaped by many communities—my family, my chosen family, my colleagues, and the neighborhoods and spaces that have held me along the way. I am also responsible for a larger community—one that upholds dignity and respect, creates access to resources, and ensures safety so that everyone has room to flourish.

Belonging is not something we inherit; it is something we actively build. In 2026, I want to be an agitator for belonging—to build bridges across difference and to strengthen the ties that hold us together.

I invite you to reflect:
What do you belong to?
Who holds you accountable?
And who are you responsible for uplifting?

For my organization: Truth

Resilience begins with truth—even when that truth is uncomfortable. These times demand honest conversations about what is happening in our systems of care and the institutions we rely on to support our families and communities.

Truth calls us to action. It strengthens us as a collective. As leaders—in our families, neighborhoods, and workplaces—we must make space to understand both the threats and the opportunities ahead. Only then can we navigate the headwinds and, when needed, chart new and better paths forward.

In 2026, Head Start should not be defined solely by the weight of change, but by the lift that comes from being strong, stable, and grounded in truth.

So, these are the words I am carrying into the year ahead:

• Hope for myself
• Belonging for my community
• Truth for our organization

I invite you to choose your own words for 2026—and to share them. Talk with one another. Ask for perspective. Hold each other accountable to the intentions you set today.

This is our call to action.

We believe that staying steadfast and united is essential in 2026. We are better together—it is in our DNA. Our purpose remains clear: to give all families and children, from birth to age five, the opportunity to succeed in school and in life.

The Head Start community is our inspiration. Together, we foster inclusivity, kindness, knowledge, leadership, courage, and innovation. It is our responsibility to elevate this community—not just with words, but through meaningful action.

I invite you to share your words for 2026 with me at econdon@headstartwest.org. I look forward to working alongside you—to elevate the Head Start community through our shared values, our collective strength, and our actions throughout the year ahead.