All it took was one person giving us a fresh breeze of hope
It started to eat away at my soul. Not that he couldn’t spell but that he believed he would never be able to spell. By the time Micah reached fourth grade, we finally entered the world of a teacher who believed in him with a conviction that carried weight, and we all caught a fresh breeze of hope.
I sat down with her during the very first week of school and gave Ms. Noord the scoop on this kid we love so much. I laid out his phobia about spelling and the posttraumatic stress he experienced anytime he got a new set of words he was sure he was going to flunk . . . again. She listened and she heard, and then she advised and laid out the plan to set him up for success.
What she taught in the classroom, we underlined at home. And what we poured into him at home, she echoed in the classroom. We were a team. And very slowly, Micah started to believe that it might be true. That maybe he wasn’t destined for perpetual failure. That maybe he could get that elusive B in spelling.
