Success Stories

One Teacher Made the Difference

I can’t tell you how excited I was on the day that my teacher asked me to submit an article for the Literary Links’ Success Stories contest. I believe my story will motivate anyone who has ever doubted themselves.

I will begin with my educational background and my learning difficulties and obstacles that I endured as a child. My older sister taught me how to read and write at an early age. So when I began elementary school I did great. I even made honor roll in my first year of school. My mom, dad and siblings were very proud of me.

I began having a learning problem when I was in third grade. My problem was not in reading or writing. My problem was in math. I would cry a lot and even pretend to be ill so that my mother would keep me home from school. My third-grade teacher, almost on a daily basis, would force me to get up in front of the class to solve a math problem that she knew I could not do. I will never forget the day that she told me to go to the board and I refused. She demanded that I once again go to the board. I was crying and said, “No.” She always had that folded-up ruler in her hand. She slapped me across the back of my hand and made me go sit in the hall. That day, when my mother picked me up from school, I was still crying. I told her what happened. She told me to wait in the car. Needless to say, the principal came out and looked at my hand and I never saw that teacher again.

The next school year, I finally had a very nice and devoted teacher who taught me how to do my multiplication tables. I was so excited and the rest of that school year was great. However, by the next school year the math was more advanced and I could not comprehend the work. I somehow got through that school year and the next without knowing the math. I guess you know what was next – junior high.

By the time I got there, my parents’ marriage was crumbling. Their fighting often kept us (the children) up at night. We were truant from school a lot. Not just from the fighting, but because we had missed so much school and were so far behind that we would often skip classes to save ourselves from the humiliation. The end of the school year came, as did the end of my parents’ marriage. My family was split up. My younger sister and myself went with my mother, while my brother stayed with my dad.

And I failed seventh grade.

I began school again in a different town. But shortly after school began, my older sister was involved in a terrible car accident. My sister needed my help, as she had a very small son and was going to need extensive rehabilitation. I quit school. I was 14 years old and was in seventh grade.

The next year, I married and started a family of my own. I always told myself that I would one day continue my education. I had four children within six years. During that marriage, I would often talk about wanting to go back to school. It never happened. I think there came a point in time that I just gave up on the idea of ever becoming anyone except a mom. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a mother; it is the most rewarding job in the world. But the emptiness I felt by not having my education would follow me until I could find a way to reach my goal.

Since I couldn’t go back to school, I would work with what I had – my ability to read and write. So for the next several years I wrote poetry. My children would often ask for help with their homework lessons. I was able to help them but only to an extent. I was ashamed that I could not help them as they got older. They were now doing things in school that I had never seen before. I continued writing my poetry and had already decided that writing was what I wanted to do with my future. I still wanted to finish going to school, but was sure that the math would keep me from reaching that goal. I even went to the learning center in my hometown to get some basic math practice sheets to work on. To no avail; I was stuck. Most of the things on the practice sheets I had never even been introduced to.

And what it finally took was my coming to a small town called Uvalde, Texas. There was a teacher there who helped me. And through his methods and patience, taught me math. And not just math, but math I thought I could never do. About a month after he began teaching me, he scheduled me for the GED tests to be taken there at the local college. I was nervous. I didn’t think I was ready. But he had faith in me. And he gave me faith in myself.

We had to wait a few weeks for the results. I’ll never forget the day that I found out that I had passed. I was having a bad morning. I didn’t feel well and couldn’t think clearly. And my teacher said, “Ms. Riedel, it looks as though you are having a bad day.” I replied, “Yes, I am.” He then said, “Congratulations, you just got your GED.” I immediately began crying and asked if it would be all right to give him a hug. So I did.

Every day in my mind, I thank him for all of his help and all of the encouragement he gave me. So many doors are opened for me now. I’m going to continue my education and live my dream of being a writer.