Lara Disney didn’t know much about Palmer High School before her first job interview.

But something was in the air that day, a spark she couldn’t quite identify: From the moment she stepped foot on campus, it was home.

In the 18 years that followed — 12 spent as principal — she’s watched as her two children passed through its halls and as former students returned to teach at their alma mater. Disney now prepares to turn a page on her time in education as she looks to retirement, closing a chapter on her time as the second-longest reigning principal at the city’s oldest high school. Friday is her last day in office.

“I just knew it was somewhere that was going to be a good fit for me,” Disney said. “It’s been quite a journey.”

Disney “grew up” as an

education leader among a team of principals and assistant principals across Colorado Springs School District 11, whom she likened to her siblings.

They bounced ideas off one another and learned from each other’s successes and failures. One such “sibling,” David Engstrom, was assistant principal at Coronado High School while Disney held the same title at Palmer. The two rose to principal at their respective schools the same year, too.

She received a text message from Engstrom on the morning of her final Palmer graduation in May, a reminder that her team of support has and will always be in her corner. His message was simple: “You have served your students well.”

“It was this feeling of, boy, when we were both assistant principals, this is what we said we were going to do,” said Engstrom, who has since moved on to become superintendent of Minnesota’s Robbinsdale School District.

Engstrom describes Disney as a brilliant “thought partner” with a deliberative approach to leadership.

“I treasure those moments and treasure that time together, all the while holding it against her that she had (future Denver Nuggets point guard) Reggie Jackson on her basketball team,” Engstrom said. “They beat us too many times.”

Joking aside, he said, his graduation text to an old friend inspired a sense of nostalgia for those days of collaboration. There was never a sense of territoriality despite being rival schools.

Engstrom pulled inspiration from Disney’s leadership and intervention model at Palmer when helping D-11 establish the Roy J. Wasson Academic Campus in 2013, he said. Pieces of her legacy can be found scattered across Colorado Springs.

Schools throughout the area reached out to Disney following an at-the-time controversial move to establish a gender-inclusive restroom in Palmer, she said, making it the first public school in southern Colorado to do so. The idea came from students in the Gay-straight-trans Alliance club who felt nonbinary and gender nonconforming students needed an option where they would feel comfortable, a space that was safe for everyone.

There was some initial pushback. Much of it, she recalled, stemmed from a lack of understanding.

“It’s not that we’re forcing anybody to do things. It’s an option for students who feel like they need that as an option,” Disney said. “The students have always been the focus. We don’t always agree, but the kids here have always been very mindful of making sure that we come to solutions together, and that’s what makes it work.”

There were some early issues with the bathroom’s placement, she said. Students would use it as a hangout spot where boys and girls could gather together with limited monitoring. So, she worked with GSA to find an alternative solution, ultimately moving the bathroom to a spot with more oversight.

The result was a group of students who felt they were part of a community, not just an add-on club. They had a voice to which the school would listen.

“You try as much as possible to get to yes. Don’t just shoot a kid down because you don’t like their idea. Talk with them a little more, get a little more background,” Disney said. “I think oftentimes adults don’t consider the opinions of students, kids, like they don’t think they know what they need, and they don’t think that kids can advocate for themselves. We know as educators that absolutely they can, and that’s a skill that will serve them beyond these walls very, very well in life.”

Science department chair Geoff Lewis admired this leadership quality of Disney’s. She wasn’t afraid to make decisions in the best interest of students even in anticipation of flak from the broader community.

Long before she was a principal, she was a science teacher, and Lewis said her analytical background manifests in her problem-solving approach.

“She always took the time to listen, and to listen honestly and seriously,” Lewis said.

“There were certainly times where I didn’t agree with the decision, I didn’t get my way, I didn’t get what I wanted, but I knew she wasn’t discounting it outright.”

Disney expanded Palmer’s IB program — which emphasizes open mindedness and compassion by teaching students how they fit into a bigger community — to include every freshman and sophomore student. The IB pathway previously existed as a sort of “school within a school” for select students, according to Lewis. Once a divisive concept among some faculty, she ultimately got everybody on board.

The IB mentality lends to Palmer’s reputation for producing vocal and active students who question the world around them, Disney said. This year they showed out in force to a school board meeting after a board member suggested faculty be prohibited from asking students their pronouns and, later, were among the handful of local students who organized a schoolwide walkout and marched to City Hall to demand of stronger gun safety laws.

Disney doesn’t attribute Palmer’s activist and open-minded culture to her work. That was established before she arrived. Rather, she said her job was to continue allowing that culture to grow.

In her earliest days at the high school, Hillsboro Baptist Church led protests outside the school in response to the formation of the Gay-straight Alliance club. She recalled stories from just before her arrival, when faculty formed a perimeter around the school to allow students to enter without being harassed by the church’s members.

“That’s one thing about our staff here. Even though our staff members have changed, the conviction that this has to be a safe place for students hasn’t changed,” Disney said.

“They come here because it feels like a safe place for them to be. They feel like they can be who they are and not be judged, perhaps, as much as they might be in other places … There was never anywhere that had that same kind of feel that I feel here.”

Disney will remain on a school schedule as she and her husband, a former principal who retired last year, babysit their first granddaughter while their son and daughter-in-law, both teachers, are at work. Plenty of travel also awaits, including an anniversary trip to Hawaii, a friends trip to New Orleans and, she hopes, a longtime bucket list trip to Germany to see where her family hails from.

But “Mama Disney,” as she’s lovingly known in her school’s hallways, will still be around town, attending alumni outings and cheering on her team at sporting events. Her legacy continues.

“Adults sometimes are not happy with decisions that are made, but all of the decisions that I have made over the past 30 years in education have been for the kids,” Disney said. “I’d like to be known as that kid advocate.”

“I think oftentimes adults don’t consider the opinions of students, kids, like they don’t think they know what they need, and they don’t think that kids can advocate for themselves. We know as educators that absolutely they can, and that’s a skill that will serve them beyond these walls very, very well in life.”

Lara Disney, retiring Palmer High School principal