It was no secret that I was the “problem child” when I was younger. I would relentlessly, almost obsessively, resist authority wherever I could. As if that wasn’t enough, I was struggling in school. I was, at one point, YEARS behind in my reading and writing skills which made it harder and harder to succeed as a student. This would only make the behavioral issues worse, which in turn would make me fall further and further behind in school. I was labeled “at risk” by the time I hit the second grade and many teachers had given up on me.
This changed after my first year of being labeled “at risk” by the school district. I was given an extra reading class, which was held in a small, windowless room that I’d never seen before at school. It was the first door on the left of the school right in the front behind a small, brick wall (which was where the school store was held every day at lunch and after school). In this room, I found the determination and the drive to push harder and reach into the advanced courses within a year or two. Don’t get me wrong, I started out completely insulted and defeated by the prospect of having to take an EXTRA reading class while the other students in my grade were doing other, more exciting things. However, it didn’t take me long for this idea to fade.
My teacher’s name was Ms. Mickelson, and she started off the lesson, not by teaching or giving us a list of her expectations (I really hated that word, at this point), but by getting to KNOW US. To clarify, she wasn’t just asking about the generic “what do you want to be when you grow up” questions in that condescending, infantile voice that I detested. She was asking us adult questions like, “what do you want to get out of this class?” “In what areas do you struggle with reading?” “What can I do for YOU to make YOU successful?” Before this class, I didn’t think it was POSSIBLE for an educator to care what I wanted to get out of my education, therefore I felt like I had very little reason to care. At last, HERE was a class that gave me control and allowed me to set my own goals and expectations.
Not only was I given control of my education and educational goals in this class, my teacher challenged me in a way that no other teacher ever tried. Not only was I “at risk” but I had a reputation that branded me as a “trouble maker” or a “bad kid.” This reputation is hard to shake and I felt like I always had teachers who accepted my bad work ethic and behavior as stable and unchangeable. This is where Ms. Mickelson differed. I remember sitting at the table, struggling to read a 1st grade book aloud (remember, I was in the 3rd grade at this point) and she walked off to get a book. This book was THE SINGLE most pivotal text that I’ve read in my life; it single-handedly set my course to the reader, writer, and person I am today. It’s a chapter book by the name of “The Tale of Despereaux.”
“Here, this is one of my favorite books or all time! I want you to try and read this out loud for me, really quick.”
I flinched at the challenge, I couldn’t believe that she was allowing me to look at a chapter book, much less read one! Nevertheless, she allowed me to struggle, lesson after lesson, reading after reading (we were assigned an hour’s reading outside of class each night to help us sharpen our skills) until I was done with it. The rest is history.
The moral of the story: one teacher, one class can make all the difference in a student’s life. If it wasn’t for this one teacher in this one class, I have no idea what I would’ve become. Because I felt like I had an ally who was looking out for my best interests, I felt empowered to stretch myself as far as I could go: I had no incentive to test my fragile limitations until then. Because this teacher challenged me, believed in me, and made an ally of me, I felt compelled to push myself forward in my educational career and prove to myself that I was better than I allowed myself to be.