If you’ve spent time in the halls of Hazel I. Jackson Middle School, you’ve probably felt the hum of a building that’s full of movement, energy, and life. At the center of it all, more often than not, is Dean Kyle Byler.
You might spot him in the cafeteria, weaving through tables during lunch like it’s a neighborhood block party. Kids call out to him with ease some to share good news, others to ask for help, a few just hoping for a quick laugh or a signature Byler one-liner. You might find him walking the halls with a basketball under one arm and a running list of students to check in with, teachers to support, and situations to de-escalate. He rarely stands still, and yet, somehow, he’s always fully present.
To students, he’s “Mr. B.” To families, he’s the person who calls not just when something goes wrong, but to talk things through, to build bridges, to say, “I’m with you on this.” And to staff, he’s a trusted partner, someone who knows what it’s like to be in the classroom because he spent more than a decade living that exact experience.
Kyle Byler may be new to his role as Dean of Students, he stepped into it just five months ago, but he’s far from new to Jackson or the students and families who walk its halls. But for the past 13 years, he’s been part of the heartbeat of this school. He’s worn many hats, social studies teacher, basketball coach, athletic manager, theater set builder, and now, he’s added school leader to the mix. Every chapter of that journey has shaped the way he leads today: with empathy, directness, and a deep commitment to making school feel like a place kids want to be.
But whether you know him as “Dean Byler” or simply “Mr. B,” Kyle Byler is a familiar face with a heart for this community and a story that students can see themselves in.
From the court to the classroom: an unexpected path toward purpose
Born in Lancaster and raised in the Paradise Gap area, Kyle’s life has always revolved around connection, on the basketball court, in the classroom, and within his own family. “Teaching wasn’t Plan A,” he says. “Basketball was my world. I was supposed to be a gym teacher, coach camps, live that sports life.”
He played at Slippery Rock University, majoring in physical education before switching to business. His post-college years included real estate deals, land development, and property management. But something was missing. “Real estate was transactional. I wanted something more relational.”
That “something more” led him back to school, this time, not as a student, but as a teacher. With the encouragement of his sister, a longtime educator in SDoL, Kyle got his master’s in education, completed his student teaching with Lisa Hardwing at McCaskey HS, and never looked back. “That classroom with Hardwick? Hardest thing I’ve ever done. But it also prepared me for everything that came next.”
A Jackson Original: 13 years, three Names, and one unshakable love for middle school
Kyle has taught through every chapter of Jackson’s transformation from Hand Middle School to Southeast to Hazel I. Jackson. Through all the building changes, name changes, and system shifts, he stayed. “Some of our kids have technically gone to three different schools in three years. I’ve been right there with them.”
For more than a decade, he taught 7th and 8th grade social studies, ran the school’s athletic programs, helped build theater sets, and coached basketball. But what he loved most was the day-to-day of classroom life: the rhythms, the relationships, and the tiny, quiet wins that come when a student finally feels like they belong.
“One of the coolest things I ever experienced was looping with my class, teaching them in 7th grade and then again in 8th,” he says. “You watch them grow. Like, really grow. It’s wild how much difference a year can make.”
Why Dean? Why now?
By the end of 2023, Kyle knew it was time for something new, not because he wanted to leave the classroom, but because he saw an opportunity to expand his reach.
“I loved my students. That classroom was my safe place. But I started to think: what if I could make the whole school feel like that?”
Becoming Dean was about deepening the work. “Instead of teaching 80 kids a year, I now get to connect with 450. And even if I don’t see them all every day, I know I can shape the culture they walk into.”
The culture builder: coaching kids in life, not just behavior
Maybe you’ve heard his name echo across the cafeteria “Mr. Byler!” as he makes his daily lunch rounds, stopping at every table like a coach checking in with their team.
Or maybe you’ve witnessed a quieter moment: a student sitting outside a classroom, and Kyle crouched beside them, not to lecture, but to listen. In those moments, whether lighthearted or serious, he isn’t just the Dean of Students. He’s a steady presence. A connector. A coach for kids who are still figuring out who they are.
Kyle doesn’t like the word “discipline.” His approach is rooted in coaching, not correction. “Accountability matters, yes. But it only works if the kid knows you care.”
Whether he’s making a call home or having a hard hallway conversation, his tone stays consistent: “I’m not here to catch you, I’m here to guide you.”
He refers to students as “our kids” when talking with families, turning tense calls into collaborative ones. “I’ll say, ‘Hey, I’m here with our boy,’ and suddenly we’re on the same team. That changes everything.”
When students talk about him, there’s a mix of respect and ease. He’s the kind of adult who remembers what it felt like to sit in their seat, because not too long ago, he was that kid. Energetic. Curious. Sometimes a little too much. Never disrespectful, but always pushing the line. And that’s part of what makes him so effective now.
“He gets it,” one student said recently. “He’s real.”
Real is exactly the word.
Kyle’s leadership isn’t about power or position, it’s about people. It’s about the kid who’s never had someone believe in them. The student who needs to be reminded that trying counts. It’s all part of how he connects, corrects, and cultivates community at Jackson.
His rules are simple. “Don’t be a jerk.” “Just try.” They sound casual, but students remember them. “It’s about planting little seeds. If they hear something enough, eventually it sticks.”
Lunch table relationships, real conversations, and the power of showing up
You’ll often find Kyle in the cafeteria, floating from table to table. “That’s where the magic happens,” he says. “You build trust over fruit cups and French fries.”
In a role where every day is unpredictable, Kyle leans into consistency. He shows up. He listens. He celebrates the small wins, like when a student earns back their field trip privilege or chooses to walk away from a fight.
“Middle school is messy,” he says. “They’re figuring out who they are, how to treat people, how to be part of a community. That’s when they need us most.”
Rooted in realness: from student to leader
Kyle’s impact isn’t rooted in being perfect. It’s rooted in being honest. He shares his own struggles with students the fact that he wasn’t an honor roll kid, that he didn’t love sitting still, that school was hard at times. “I tell them: I didn’t get here because I had it all figured out. I got here because I didn’t give up.”
That authenticity resonates. Students know he gets it. Families know he means what he says. And staff trust that he’s in it for the right reasons.
“I didn’t take the easy path. But maybe because of that, I can help shorten the learning curve for someone else.”
Looking ahead: a dean with a bigger dream
Five months in, Kyle is just getting started. He wants to build more systems for student recognition, launch new traditions, and find ways to make Jackson feel like home for every student, every family, every staff member.
“I want kids to say, ‘Yeah, I go to Jackson,’ and feel proud of that,” he says. “That starts with building a culture of consistency, respect, and love.”
His favorite moments? When kids surprise him. When a student he once struggled with comes back to say thank you. When a lunch table turns into a teachable moment. When a hallway hug reminds him that presence matters.
“This role is hard. But I know I’m where I’m supposed to be. I get to help shape something bigger than me.”
What keeps him grounded
At the end of the day, it’s the people. The kids. The families. The colleagues who genuinely care.
“I believe most people are good,” Kyle says. “And I believe every kid deserves someone who sees them clearly, even when they mess up.”
At Jackson, Kyle Byler isn’t just the dean, he’s part of the rhythm of the building. A former classroom teacher with a coach’s heart. A culture builder who believes that school should be a place where every student feels seen. And a leader who shows up every day ready to help students grow, not just in academics, but in who they are becoming.
And he shows up, every day, even on the hard ones, to help them grow into the person they’re meant to be.