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Learning To Dream Learning To Dream

Learning To Dream Learning To Dream

Learning To Dream Learning To Dream

Learning To Dream Learning To Dream

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"When all other means of communication fail, try words" - Author Unknown

"When all other means of communication fail, try words" - Author Unknown

More Head Coaches, Less Spectators

Last night while watching my younger son practice with his pee wee football team, a group of teenage boys came and sat on the opposite end of the bleachers that my husband and I were sitting on. Within...

The "N" Word

“Nigga ain’t the same as Nigger”. How you figure? Many have tried to explain the NONsense, but I guess I’M dense, ‘cause it don’t make No sense, to me. Probably not to the slave that hung...

The Apprentice and The Craftsman

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Room 5-313. That’s where the magic happened. It was in this room that I learned to truly express myself. I opened up completely, tried things that I’d never done before, learned a few tricks of the trade…lost my inhibitions. I blushed innocently when told that I had not only met expectations, but exceeded them. It was in this room that I felt the need to do more and give more…because I liked the feedback that I was getting. It was here that I fell in love with… creative writing.

I think we all did—the entire class. Ms. Stanicic had a way of making every assignment interesting, and getting us interested in every assignment. Her lessons were engaging and offered hands-on learning opportunities. She had a way of turning the most challenging work into child’s play. She shared her time with the students fairly, making each one of us feel like we were her favorite. I’d still like to think that I was one of her favorite students, and I’d bet that hundreds of others who were lucky enough to occupy a chair in room 5-313 still think that too. It wasn’t just a class, it was a team. We all shared a bond with her. She believed in us and made us feel as though we could do anything. She celebrated our successes, and provided constructive feedback to help us overcome our setbacks. She supported and encouraged our participation in school activities, accepted nothing less than our best effort, cheered us on in our victories, and picked us up in our defeats.

She was concerned about my well-being and found a way to connect with me on a personal level. I remember being dressed in a red blouse with huge ties that my mom had carefully joined together to make the perfect bow for picture day. Somewhere between leaving home and lining up for pictures, the bow had unraveled. I pressed my chin against my neck, tied the bow as best I could, and headed over to take my picture. Ms. Stanicic watched intently as the camera man positioned me for the perfect shot. Then she noticed the bow. She hurried over and interrupted the camera man so that she could fix my bow. When she finished tying it, it looked just like my mother’s…perfect, picture perfect.

Ms. Stanicic didn’t do these things for recognition, extra pay, or a promotion. She did them because she loved her job. She absolutely loved being my teacher…and I knew it. Her enthusiasm, commitment, skill, and motherly ways made me enjoy coming to school. She made me want to work hard. She made me want to do my best. There were times when I lacked confidence or felt a bit inadequate, but she made me believe that I was smart, talented, and special. She inspired me to write. My experiences in her class helped to shape who I became and I am forever grateful for the privilege of occupying a seat in room 5-313. For me, that’s where the magic happened.

Learning Series Press

LspThis Self Help / Motivational book is a Learning Series Press publication.
You can purchase your own copy right away.



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