Bob Palmer was 17 years old and sitting in Mr. Johnson’s Algebra II class in Room 9 at Portland Adventist Academy when he felt something click. He knew he wanted to be a high school math teacher. What he didn’t know was that it would take him a few years to get there — more than three decades, in fact. However, it turns out the journey wasn’t wasted.
Palmer calls those years after his Room 9 decision his wilderness journey.
Through high school and into college, Palmer spent his summers at camp. It was nine years of outdoor work he loved deeply. He began his university studies in secondary math education, but life has a way of redirecting. Palmer transitioned into horticulture, earning his bachelor's while staying close to the outdoors and the hands-on work he knew well. Still, there were signs. A professor once slipped him a note: "You should be a teacher." Palmer tucked it away and kept moving.
Life led him to Big Lake Youth Camp, where he served as a task force worker and then as a ranger for 20 years. It wasn’t a classroom, but Palmer still taught. He showed camp staff the practical skills needed to do their jobs and keep the facility running. Campers and employees watched, listened and learned.
Every couple of years, Dick Molstead, then Oregon Conference vice president of education, would make his way out to Big Lake and ask Palmer the same question: "Are you ready to stop playing around and become a teacher?" They’d laugh, but Palmer was getting closer.
After two decades at camp, Palmer transitioned to a local school district and then to an Adventist elementary school, where his love for education flourished while he worked as a facilities manager. In hindsight, Palmer said he now better understands the road he traveled. The decades that felt like detours, the sidetracks and seasons, and even the stops along the way were part of a learning, growing and trust-building journey. A journey that led to a familiar place.
Palmer returned to school — as a student this time — and earned his master's in teaching. He submitted his resignation as facilities manager six months before the school year ended, with no teaching job lined up but faith that the same God whom he learned from this far was not finished yet.
Then the call came: a high school math position had opened up — not at just any school — at PAA.
This is Palmer's fourth year teaching math in Room 9, the very classroom where he sat as a 17-year-old and decided to teach. The wilderness journey led him home.
His students will tell you he was worth the wait. Palmer tutors before school, through lunch and for hours after the final bell. He shaved his head for a class fundraiser without hesitation. He wore a dubiously stylish green velour tracksuit to show class spirit with zero embarrassment. He drives the bus — enthusiastically. And beyond the classroom, Palmer is simply there at games, music performances, drama productions and baptisms, cheering on his students at every turn. When there is an opportunity to show up for a student, Palmer does not miss it.
Palmer knows from personal experience that God's plans are to prosper us. He knows the wilderness is never a detour. It is always preparation. And Room 9 has never been in better hands.
When there is an opportunity to show up for a student, Palmer does not miss it.
Palmer's students will tell you he was worth the wait. He tutors before school, through lunch and for hours after the final bell.
This is Palmer's fourth year teaching math in Room 9, the very classroom where he sat as a 17-year-old and decided to teach.
