Sonya Rinehart spent her teenage years cheering for John A. Holmes High School. Thirty-some years later, she ran it. Now, as retirement approaches, she reflects on a life built — and given back — in one place.

By Miles Layton

I’m going to say that it was nice working with Principal Rinehart — she said “hi” to me when the day began and “thanks” after the final bell rang. I loved when she came by the classroom, even gave me an ice cream sandwich on teacher appreciation day. Students, they respected her — they would always get quiet if they knew she was patrolling the hallways. I loved that. Teachers embraced Rinehart because she had been in trenches as an educator, so she was understanding and supportive. And the staff — they loved her too.

EDENTON — By the time Sonya Rinehart walks out of John A. Holmes High School for the last time as its principal this August, she will have spent more than half her life inside those walls — as a cheerleader, as a student, as a teacher, and finally as the woman in charge.

That is not a metaphor. That is the arc of an actual life.

Rinehart graduated from JAH in 1990, pom-poms and all, a teenager wrapped in blue and gold with no particular plan to return. And yet return she did — first as a social studies teacher, then as an administrator, and eventually as the school’s principal, guiding it through a years-long construction project and the quiet, daily work of shaping adolescents into adults. 

“Coming back to JAH has become something I would never trade,” she said. “I bleed blue and gold — except when NC State plays.”

She retires Aug. 1 after more than three decades with Edenton-Chowan Public Schools.

“A school is so much more than just brick and mortar; it is defined by the heart and energy within it,” Superintendent Tammi Ward said. “The same is true for its leadership. Sonya Rinehart is far more than ‘just a principal.’ She has dedicated 30+ years to a passion that will leave a lifelong source of inspiration for educators and students today and in the future. As Superintendent, I have watched her set a standard of full commitment to both academic excellence and the holistic care of our students. While few of us could ever log as many steps as she does in a day, we can all aspire to love, guide, and educate our students with the same incredible intensity and devotion.”

Photo comes from the national Principal’s Appreciation Day — lot of love shown for Rinehart.

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The new teacher who recognized the hallways

Walking back into JAH as a first-year teacher was exhilarating, Rinehart will tell you — and also deeply humbling.

She was 22 years old, not long out of college, finding her footing in a classroom where some of the teachers grading papers down the hall had once graded hers. It could have been awkward. It wasn’t.

“Fortunately, those educators became mentors and role models who helped shape me as an educator,” she said. “They set the bar high and provided an educational foundation for all of us to follow. They became lifelong friends whom I still keep in contact with today.”

As the years passed and those veterans moved on to retirement, Rinehart felt something shift — a quiet transfer of responsibility she hadn’t asked for but accepted fully.

“As those teachers retired, they left me with the responsibility of ‘paying it forward,’” she said. “I find myself in awe of the leaders who came before me. Their legacy continues to inspire me.”

Manifest Destiny and the joy of a good argument

Before she was a principal, Rinehart was a teacher — and she was, by her own telling, genuinely, almost evangelically passionate about it.

Her subject was social studies, and her favorite corner of it was U.S. history, specifically AP U.S. History. Ask her about her favorite unit and she’ll answer without hesitation: Manifest Destiny and westward expansion.

But if you want to understand what actually got her out of bed and into the building every morning, the answer has nothing to do with the curriculum.

“The kids! They are the best!” she said. “Some try your patience as others quietly try to find out who they are — all while you get to help broaden their horizons by exposing them to the world around them.”

That joy — the particular pleasure of watching a teenager figure something out — never faded, even after the classroom gave way to an office. It crystallized into the philosophy she carried through her entire career: Embrace every moment as an opportunity to inspire change in someone’s world.

The principal’s view from the graduation stage

The transition to principal brought new pressures and new rewards, but the calculus at the center of the job stayed the same.

“One of the most rewarding experiences is watching a student walk across the graduation stage after witnessing four years of growth and perseverance,” she said.

She talks about the JAH staff the way some people talk about family — because, she’ll insist, that’s precisely what they are.

“I value working alongside this staff who are willing to challenge me when needed, help me grow as a leader, and ensure we continue to do what’s best for our students,” she said. “This staff is a family that cares for each other, and you don’t find that everywhere.”

Watching the old building fall

Among the defining tests of Rinehart’s tenure was the construction of JAH’s new facility — a years-long process that split students and staff across multiple campuses, stretched everyone thin, and required her to hold the community together at a distance.

And then there was the moment the original building came down.

She stood and watched it go — the building where she had cheered at pep rallies, struggled through exams, learned to teach, and eventually led. A lesser person might have cried. Rinehart reached for something more measured.

“I wouldn’t say it was sadness as much as nostalgia,” she said. “Watching the building come down brought back memories from my years as a student, teacher, and principal. However, those memories weren’t contained within the brick and mortar — they live in the people and relationships. The building may be different, but the ACES spirit of the school remains the same.”

The school community moved into the new building in January. Since then, Rinehart has watched something she can only describe as a reunion unfold in real time.

“We get to see each other daily and are able to be a united team and ACES family,” she said. “It has felt like a family reunion.”

“Kids are still kids”

Nearly four decades in education will give a person perspective on change — and Rinehart has plenty of it, delivered with the wry clarity of someone who has seen a lot of fads come and go.

“Students always change as does society,” she said. “Slang, clothing, hairstyles, and technology have changed — but kids are still kids at the end of the day.”

She means it as reassurance, not dismissal. The world is different. Young people face pressures that weren’t part of her own adolescence. But the core of adolescence — the searching, the becoming, the need to be seen — that, she says, is a constant.

And it’s why, she argues, public education matters more than ever.

“Public education is the core to a successful society,” she said, with the conviction of someone who has repeated this to school boards and skeptics alike. “It provides the foundation for an equitable education by giving every child access to free, high-quality learning opportunities. Thriving communities have thriving schools.”

She paused, then added: “This is a passion area of mine in which I could go on forever.”

The difference she may never know she made

Ask Rinehart directly whether she believes she made a difference in students’ lives, and she’ll do something surprising: she’ll turn the question around.

“I may never know if I made a difference,” she said, “but I am certain that the students have had a positive impact on me — which may in turn be one of the best parts of being an educator.”

It’s not false modesty. It’s a window into what has sustained her. Teaching, for Rinehart, was never a transaction — it was something mutual, something given and received in both directions across 30+ years and thousands of students.

“My hope is that throughout my career I have made a positive difference in the lives of others, just as my own teachers influenced and inspired me during my years as a student,” she said.

As for what comes next, she isn’t saying — because, she admits, she doesn’t quite know yet.

“That question still remains unanswered as I seek to continue to pursue my passions and let them drive me to my next endeavor,” she said.

For now, the halls of John A. Holmes High School — new building and all — will carry her fingerprints long after she’s gone. That, perhaps, is answer enough.