"Why read when you can watch the movie?" In my eight years as an educator, no other sentiment has been quite so crushing to hear from children.

As a newer interventionist, I faced a formidable task: engage reluctant readers and address their needs with minimal resources for an entire 90 minutes.

I avidly recall a second grade class that would excitedly huddle around my rocking chair for story time. Students scrambled around sliding chairs to the carpet where I read heartwarming and sometimes zany tales, they reminded me that story time was counted among the most meaningful and cherished moments of a child’s day. Story time is a child’s portal into endless worlds, kingdoms, and dimensions.

I, among other things, define myself as a rapper, and it’s a fact of which my students are all too aware.

I am Teacher. I can wear fifteen different hats on my head and not one of them from the same shop.

Getting kids to write in this day and age, where entertainment is merely a swipe away, can be like asking them to eat their vegetables.

After 25 years in special education classrooms, I’ve learned something our current education system doesn’t always want to admit: the most important work students do each day often goes unseen.

After my first week of being in a long-term occasional role, it became very clear to me that learning about being in the classroom is not the same as actually being in the classroom.

The topic of awe couldn’t be more timely. I’ve never seen such an urgent need to address social-emotional issues in and out of the classroom as I do now.