Dear Reader, Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about my 5th grade teacher, Miss Parasine. I’m pretty sure my desire to be a teacher started when I was in her class. I turned 11 that year. My brother was 4. Just old enough to sit in that little Playskool desk and be my “student.”. Lately I’ve been wondering – what exactly about my experience with her was so pivotal? I had very few “bad” teachers in my 13 years of public school, and all my teachers leading up to 5th grade were good. When I think about each, here’s what I remember:
I’m sure there was more depth and good teaching from these women, but these are my prominent memories of them. Enter Miss Parasine.What I remember about Miss Parasine was the way she made me feel.
And the best part? She made everyone feel that way. She did it by paying attention. By seeing what each of us needed and giving us exactly that. The friend from whom I “copied” the M*A*S*H paper also had Miss Parasine in 5th grade. We are still good friends and we talk about her sometimes. The specifics of what I remember are different from the specifics that she remembers. I remember the way she taught math. Individualized, at our own pace, honing into our individual strengths and challenges. She allowed me to build on a strength I didn’t know I had. Lauren remembers how she did spelling and reading. A bulletin board that celebrated our accomplishments with hot air balloons. But we both remember that she even made the “problem” kids feel special. The one student who was a bit of a mess and had his desk dumped on the floor by the 4th grade teacher found some strategies for organization and had a much better self image in 5th grade. And one of our classmates who was demonstrating serious behavioral issues was always treated with kindness and love, even when looking back we can see what a challenge that must have been for her. So in the end, Miss Parasine wasn’t just performing the role of a great teacher, she was paying attention. She didn’t just go through the motions, she knew every one of us and exactly what we needed. Maybe that’s the real magic of a “Miss Parasine”—not the perfect lesson plan or the bulletin board, but the decision to notice. To really see the people in front of you and give them exactly what they need to feel valued. We all have that power, no teaching degree required. So this week, I challenge you to choose one person—at work, at home, or in your community—and pay the kind of attention that says, I see you. You matter. You never know how long they’ll carry that feeling with them. Who was your “Miss Parasine”? What can we take with us from that experience and apply to our day-to-day life? I’d love to hear your story if you’re willing to share!
Wishing you a peaceful and purpose-filled week, Beth
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