Friday, April 13, 2007


I don't know how much she gets paid, but it's not enough.
On the day my para quit and my kids went nuts, she was at my school. She came by during lunch, just out of coincidence, and sat with me for an hour while I cried, and told me, over and over again, why I was needed in that school. I didn't believe her then. I do now.
She was the first person I called when Elvis grew over a year and a half in reading.
She was the first person I emailed when my class actually mastered a math objective on our tracking sheet.
And she's the person I go to with stories of fights and security that doesn't come and a principal that has no control over his school.
She listens and brainstorms and fights...for my kids...and for me.
She meets with my principal and stands up to him in ways I couldn't. She has an organization behind her. An organization that is willing to send me to another school if things do not change at mine.
I am not on my own. I was not sent in there to drown, and I will not be forced to stay in an environment that is not safe.
She listened and in 45 minutes she made all of the chaos feel manageable.
And then she drove me home.
I would have quit that day in October had it not been for her, and now she's saving me again.
Whatever she gets's not enough to be a hero to 51 people.

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