seven

Memory is a funny thing. I can barely remember my freshman year of high school yet my first-grade memories have stood the test of time most poetically. I have long wondered why my first-grade experience speaks to my soul on a different level, and I can only conclude it’s due to the effortless exuberance of my first-grade teacher, Kathleen Rolls.

Mrs. Rolls was the first educator to ever see me beyond the surface. In essence, she unearthed certain skills within me and then advocated for my progression in a way that made a meaningful and lasting impact. At my local Catholic elementary school, we had various differentiated sections of subjects. Placed in a lower level for math, I was also initially placed in a lower level for reading and writing. Mrs. Rolls believed I was capable of more. Specifically, she recommended I be placed in a different section for reading and writing, which forever changed the way I viewed words and my abilities to understand and/or work with them.

The move to a different classroom was made mid-quarter. It meant leaving familiar ground and entering a zone of unfamiliar challenges. “It’s okay to be nervous, Katie, but you should be reading and writing more. I know you’re going to read and write some great stories. Sometimes people see something in you and sometimes you need to see something in yourself.”

Yes, that was some deep talk for first grade. Mrs. Rolls knew that children understood more than they were often given credit for. This truth, and so much more of her, remains with me.

The move to a different level shaped me and my educational endeavors. It was her conviction in my chance to be challenged that changed everything. I found my passion and purpose in writing. Since the age of seven, it’s all I’ve wanted to do. In truth, it’s who I am.

As I watch my own first-grader I am brought back to Mrs. Rolls and the magical, light, loving, strong, and determined energy that she infused into her students. When I went to look her up and share her influence, I stumbled upon her obituary from 2014.

I cried over the missed chance to tell her how all of these years later I’m still channeling her lessons. I desperately desired to explain what her belief in me did for my ability to believe in myself. And so I decided to find her daughters and share my words with them. Grief knows no time, and the greatest legacy we leave is our love. Their mother’s love remains embedded in my stories.

This Valentine’s Day my love letter is for a woman who opened up a window so the light could pour in. Mrs. Rolls, if I see something in me it’s because of you.
XO,
Katie