Issue link: http://latinschool.uberflip.com/i/93284
First Person by Mary Jo Houck, Middle School English Teacher Creating a Home in the Classroom It wasn't a cherished classroom teacher who inspired me to be a teacher; it was my parents. When I was in primary school, I struggled. I have vivid memories of anxiously sitting in reading groups following along, trying to memorize words and hoping that when it was my turn to read I would be able to make my way through a sentence and maybe even a paragraph. I also remember sitting at my desk and praying that I wouldn't be called to the board to solve a math problem. I wondered how the other kids were doing it. They seemed to know a secret. My teachers didn't know what to do with me. Instead of finding a way to help me understand, they kept me busy running errands, cutting out coupons for the nuns and working on bulletin boards. My parents were worried. When they went to the school to meet with my teachers and the principal, they didn't get the kind of response they were hoping for. So they stepped in and began to teach me what I wasn't able to learn at school. I spent hours with my dad at the dining "As a teacher, my goal is to make sure that each of my students, no matter her struggles or strengths, feels as supported and valued as I did at the dining room table." room table, and when he wasn't home, with my mom or sisters. It became my second and favorite classroom. My dad taught me math using poker chips, an abacus, cards and money, and he showed me how to turn the paper sideways so that my numbers lined up. Eventually, I gained confidence and learned strategies to tackle math on my own. My dad wasn't a teacher by trade, but he was the best one I ever had. Reading took a bit longer. My mom, who was then working in the public schools as a school nurse and teacher, had me tested and found me the help I needed. My parents never gave up. Together they spent hours working with me, finding the best and often unconventional ways to support and teach me. All was going well until sixth grade, when I switched schools and had a teacher I will never forget. From the moment I arrived in her room, I knew that she didn't want me there. For whatever reason – maybe she had heard of my struggles – she was always cold to me. Thankfully, my mom and dad had taught me strategies to cope, and with their continued support, I made progress. There was a boy, however, who clearly wasn't getting the support he needed. Today he probably would be diagnosed with ADHD. The teacher handled his issues and the disruption they caused in the classroom by having her husband build a room divider made out of pegboard that the boy sat behind. It was in the far back corner with a slit in it so that he could see the board. Being in the classroom made me physically ill. My grade school experiences shaped my future and fostered my passion for teaching and learning. As a teacher, my goal is to make sure that each of my students, no matter her struggles or strengths, feels as supported and valued as I did at the dining room table. When a child enters, I want her to know that I am going to do whatever I can to take her to the next level, using strengths to improve a weakness. I hope that my classroom is a safe place for my students to experience and realize the joy of learning. Unlike the my grade school teachers, I work with a team of teachers, support staff and administrators who, like my parents, differentiate their teaching and never give up on a child. That is the best part of Latin. We consider each child a part of our family, and together we work to make sure that every child feels safe to explore and try new challenges. We are here as a safety net, ready to swoop in, redirect, encourage and let go. There isn't a day that goes by that I do not reflect on what my parents taught me and work to make my classroom an extension of their dining room – minus the poker chips. l 22 Latin Magazine FIRST PERSON