Poet, educator, and proud Wheeler alumna, Molly Johnsen ’06 has carved out a creative life rooted in language and reflection. Now based in Vermont, Molly’s writing has appeared in Nashville Review, Indiana Review, Cider Press Review, and more.

This October (just before Molly's 20th Wheeler Reunion), her debut poetry collection, Everything Alive, will be published by Green Writers Press. The book, which explores themes of mortality and vulnerability, was named a semi-finalist for the Black Lawrence Press St. Lawrence Book Award—and it’s available now for pre-order at www.mollyjohnsen.com.  

Molly credits Wheeler for its many influences on her life and career, including of course, her mother—beloved Wheeler English teacher and alumna Marcie Cummings ’72, P’06, P’08. You can read more about Molly (teaching, writing, and Wheeler memories!) in her Alumni Spotlight below.

Tell us a little about yourself, when did you graduate? Where do you live? 

I graduated in 2006 and settled in Addison, Vermont after stints in Paris, DC, Brooklyn, and Syracuse. I live with my husband, two children, and our cat. 

Describe your current job and how you got there.

I’ve been teaching middle school for almost my entire professional life. In the fall, I’ll start a job as middle school Literacy and Global Studies teacher at Vermont Day School. 

As many know, my mom (Marcie Cummings ’72, P’06, P’08) taught high school English at Wheeler for decades. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, despite my best efforts. I entered college committed to majoring in “anything but English,” and graduated with a degree in English and a steadfast desire to teach. 

What are one or two of your proudest professional or personal accomplishments? 

My proudest professional accomplishment is actually not teaching-related. I received an MFA from Syracuse University in 2021, and my final thesis has evolved into a poetry collection. Everything Alive will be available 10/14/25 with Green Writers Press. 

I was hit by a truck in 2015 and almost died. Ten years later, my collection explores the aftermath of that experience, my subsequent epilepsy diagnosis, and broader questions around mortality and motherhood. There’s some humor in it too, I promise! My dad said to me recently, “You wrote the book you wanted to write.” I think that’s true, and it’s something to be proud of. 

It was a group of Wheeler friends who really rallied and helped me through some of the hardest parts of my recovery. I’m so grateful for them. 

What is your favorite memory from your time at Wheeler?

I was terrible at sports, but I played them anyway. No one came to softball games and, as far as I can remember, the team was pretty bad. My sophomore year, when I was taking Christine Perkins’ chemistry class, she came to a game. I actually managed to hit a ball! I think I even got on base! The next day, Christine found me and said, “Nice rip!” I think about that moment a lot as a teacher. It meant the world to me, though she likely doesn’t know that. There were countless other times I felt that kind of support from Wheeler faculty, but that one has helped me most in my career. It wasn’t teacher-to-student, it was human-to-human. 

What would you consider the most important thing you learned at Wheeler? 

I got to learn something really valuable that many people don’t. I got to learn what my mom really did for a living. I heard stories about her classes; I got extra help in the English Department office that was her home for so long; I avoided eye contact while she talked to my friends in the hallways. When people ask me what it was like to go to a school where my mom was a teacher, I say I’m lucky she was good at it. Not that anyone could’ve convinced me to actually take her class. I dropped AP Calculus to avoid that. 

What person, activity, or experience most influenced you while at Wheeler? How? 

I have to cheat and mention many people. From Caroline Fields’ and Ted Merlin’s magical kindergarten classroom, to Suzie Williams’ mind-bending science classes, to Lisa Brackett’s extraordinary theater program, to Catherine Reed's and Annie Funnell’s world-shaping English classes – so much of my teaching is a reflection of my Wheeler world. Kathy Johnson cheered me on when I felt hopeless in math class. Sophie Lau taught me why I needed to care about history. Ken Clauser kept track of the days until the next school break on the chalkboard, which taught us that teachers wanted breaks as much as we did. 

There’s a poem in the book that is partly about an art project on which Leah Grear gave me a C. Talk about positive impact. Every high-flyer needs to come down to earth. In fact, Wheeler snuck into the book in a few ways I didn’t expect. Another poem mentions the death of my friend, Alexandra Kanellakis, in second grade. I cannot believe Terri Clayman carried on and remained such a positive force for our class throughout that painful year. It’s unimaginable.  

I am in awe of all of these amazing people, and I think of them often. Today, I’m lucky to call many of them friends. 

Any last comments or words of advice for fellow alumni or current Wheeler students? 

If you’re a writer or a teacher of any kind, keep going. You’re so important always, but especially right now. 

We can't wait to add your poetry to the Wheeler Alumni Author Collection at the Prescott Library, Molly! Thank you for sharing your story and reflections with us.