When Retirement Isn’t the End: David White’s Purposeful Return to Burgess-Peterson Academy

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When David White retired last September after decades of service in Atlanta Public Schools (APS), he did what many people do; he made a list of house projects. Things he’d been meaning to get to. But something unexpected happened once the list was complete.

“It was kind of lonely,” White admits. “Kind of boring.”

For nearly his entire adult life, David had been surrounded by the joyful noise of schools: hundreds of students, dozens of staff members, and a busy school community every single day. He discovered that retirement wasn’t what he imagined. He felt disconnected.

“I was so accustomed to the energy of having 600 kids around and 75 staff around,” he said. “Suddenly, I didn’t feel like I was contributing in any meaningful way.”

For White, contributing is simply part of who he is. And that realization would pull him right back to the place he knows best: Burgess-Peterson Academy.

If David’s name sounds familiar in APS circles, it’s because he’s been around for a while. He ran kindergarten at Sarah Smith Elementary School, served as an instructional coach, led as a model teacher leader, and ultimately became principal of Burgess Peterson Academy, where he served for almost 10 years.

When White arrived at Burgess Peterson as principal, the school enrolled about 250 students. Over time, with deep care and deliberate leadership, he helped grow it into a thriving neighborhood school, now serving more than 600 students.

“He built this school,” says current Burgess-Peterson Principal Holly Brookins. “He really did. This is a place where he put his heart and soul into the people and the building.”

So, when White officially retired on September 1, it marked the end of an era or so it seemed.

Retirement and a Revelation

White didn’t dislike being a principal. Quite the opposite. But he was ready to release the weight of the inbox, the constant phone calls, and the stress that comes with leading a school.

What he wasn’t ready for was being done completely.

He joked for years with the P.E. teacher about a mythical “perfect retirement job,” one that involved being around people, being useful, using his hands, and staying connected to kids without carrying the heavy mantle of school leadership.

Turns out, it wasn’t a joke after all.

When the Burgess-Peterson site manager retired in December, David heard the news through the grapevine. Around the same time, he and Principal Brookins were talking.

“Maybe I want that job,” White said.

Principal Brookins’ reaction was immediate.

“Apply,” she told him. “Please.”

Both were thoughtful about what this could mean. David, ever mindful, wanted to be sure his interest wouldn’t feel intrusive or awkward for the school’s new principal.

“I wanted to be respectful,” he said. “Obviously, that might be a little strange.”

But what already existed between them was something rare and powerful: trust.

Even before the interview process began, White and Principal Brookins had developed an open, honest rhythm of communication. She asked questions about the school’s history and he offered context without overstepping. They shared a mutual understanding that the work and the school came first.

To ensure everything was above board, Holly brought in human resources and facilities staff and ran a full, robust interview process with multiple candidates.

“No funny business,” as she puts it.

In fact, one facilities supervisor on the interview panel was so impressed that after David left the interview, they remarked, “That was the best answer about repairing drywall I’ve ever heard.”

White was hired.

A New Role, the Same Heart

Today, White’s workday starts early at 6:00 a.m. sharp. Before most of the building stirs, he walks every floor, checks every restroom, looks for leaks, listens for unfamiliar sounds, and makes sure the building is secure.

“Is there any surprise?” he asks himself each morning.

One day, it’s toilets. Another day, it’s the roof where he’s already patched and sealed leaks that held through recent storms. Other days, it’s ceiling tiles, gutters, drains, and touch-up paint. This summer, he plans to take on even more.

What’s changed isn’t White’s dedication. It’s his lens.

“I don’t have the stress of an inbox full every morning,” he says. “I’m just going to make sure the lights work, and the toilets are flushing appropriately.”

For Principal Brookins, that matters more than people might realize.

“It takes such a worry off my plate,” she says. “I don’t have to worry about the building or the safety of the building. I can focus on the kids and the staff.”

When the building works, teaching and learning thrive. White understands that connection deeply.

Stronger Together

At first, students squealed with excitement every time they saw “Mr. White” back in the halls. Staff wondered how it would feel to see a former principal in a very different role.

But after a while, it became normal to see White with a ladder. Normal to see him with a paint can. Normal to see him helping at carpool when needed, opening doors, or chatting with families.

“It’s just been really special,” Principal Brookins says. “I keep telling other principals, everybody should have this. We are stronger together.”

Families thought so too. When Principal Brookins announced White’s return, the school community responded with joy, excitement, and gratitude.

The message was clear: this school takes care of its own, and our strength is our team.

Living With Purpose

White doesn’t claim that his path is right for everyone. Not every retiree wants or needs to come back into a building every day. But he believes deeply in staying connected to the places and people you love.

“There are many ways to show care and concern for a school or an organization you have affection for,” he says. “I’m thankful for this new way to continue to care for a place that means a lot to me.”

His story is a reminder that purpose doesn’t retire on a set date. Sometimes, it just changes shape.

At Atlanta Public Schools, David White represents something profound: the passion, dedication, and heart that live in our people. The kind of commitment that doesn’t clock out. The kind that builds scholars and then keeps showing up to take care of them.

Sometimes, the most meaningful work comes after the title changes.

And sometimes, the best way forward is coming home.