School was the most dreaded place in the world. It was a place of suffering, frustration, and anger. The teachers were mean, the work was too hard, and no one ever had any fun. For my first four years of school, this was what I thought. I was diagnosed with a learning disability in kindergarten which made is very difficult to spell and write. My teachers may have thought it was difficult to work with me because I just could not figure out the difference between the d and b, or spell words even closely resembling what they were supposed to, but it was more difficult for me. Every morning when I woke up, I did not want to go to school and made a fuss. In school, I would misbehave because I was bored and frustrated. I talked during lessons, talked back when yelled at, and found myself arguing with the teachers. After school, my parents fought with me to get my homework started let alone done. My parents could read to me, but I refused to read to them. It was so challenging and often embarrassing. Everyday was a struggle. Spelling was the most difficult. I would write each word ten times, I would say each word and then spell it aloud, I would take practice quizzes, then I would take then test at school and receive an 60 percent. For all the practice, failure wasn’t acceptable. Then in fourth grade, I met Mrs. Zelkowitz.
From the first day, I could tell she wasn’t like the other teachers. She saw through all the negatives to the positives and played on them. She knew I was creative. She learned that I loved to play outside and get dirty. She found out I picked up math skills quickly. Mrs. Z. used these in her teaching and I began to enjoy learning. She found books about girls who rode bikes, she praised my math abilities by hanging my work around the room, she let me write stories on topics that I wanted and then published them in our class book. She told me that spelling was not as important as previous teachers made it seem and that she knew I was trying hard and would prevail. Mrs. Zelkowitz encouraged me in everything I did.
Mrs. Z. changed school, as I knew it. My parents remember the distinct impact she had on my life and thank her as much as I do. Without her, I may not have made it through school and certainly would not have made it through happily. The summer after fourth grade, I moved and the transfer was rough. I came home from school crying everyday because I missed Mrs. Z. She had such a positive outlook on every child that learning was made possible for all of her fourth graders. As a teacher I am going to strive to be a like her. Not only did she change my schooling experience, she made me want to be a teacher just like her. I will never forget the impact that Mrs. Z. had on my life and one day I hope to have the same impact on the children in my classroom.
-- Erica Lyn Benjamin, American University