As I sit at the table, the chair to my right speaks to me:
“I just don’t know what to say,” Chen whispers. 
“Nobody likes me, I’m not good at anything,” Mateo stutters.
“I kina...confooz tha part,” Luz confesses.

The same worn chair is set beside me with different faces: male, female, elementary, middle school, brown eyed, brown skinned, tall, small, Japanese, Colombian, gifted, and intellectually challenged. Each child in the chair, at that table would arouse me in a brand new way, and in turn, reveal a piece of me I had not yet discovered.

Chen, a bright but shy middle school Japanese student, struggled with English composition. Afraid to share her thoughts with anyone, she would shut down whenever confronted with a blank paper. I had known this timid teenager for a time and was convinced I could help her through this subject which she absolutely despised. We began with personal diaries, emboldening free expression without judgment. As we continued through grammar lessons and writing styles at the table, she began to unearth her own voice. With my guidance and praise, Chen is flourishing in the self-confidence needed to compose papers she is proud to present. An activity that used to be a source of anxiety and anguish has become one of her favorite. Chen revealed the encourager in me.

Mateo had been bullied mercilessly. He agonized each morning refusing to go to school. His mother had no choice but to withdraw him, and she brought him to me. At first, Mateo hesitated and lacked certainty in his skills. Three mornings a week, he would mope into his chair at the table. Constantly, he claimed himself to be stupid, saying that he had no friends. As my sessions with Mateo passed, I had the privilege of seeing just how creative and kind-hearted he was. Every week I perpetuated that he is smart, he can succeed, and even when he feels like he has no friends, I will be his friend. Now Mateo is back in school, and is thriving! Mateo revealed my innate desire to forge friendships with children.

Luz’s parents were distraught. Sadly, this sweet nine-year-old girl had fallen through the cracks of the school system putting her about two years below grade level. Not only does Luz have learning difficulties, but because she grew up in a home where both parents speak only Spanish, she has trouble expressing her thoughts in proper English. On top of all this, she has a speech impediment. The most endearing part is that despite her obstacles, she shows extraordinary enthusiasm for learning, often exclaiming, “I love school! I love tests! Let’s do more!” Luz is revealing the extent of my determination as I experiment with creative ways to teach concepts and help her learn.  

This tired, dented table in my living room is where the learning happens. Indeed, this sturdy scratched up table is where synapses fire and connections are made. It is where relationships are built and memories are filed. This table has witnessed every “light-bulb” moment, every laugh shared, every high-five given and every cheer of achievement. The students who sit at my table have taught me that knowledge is a life-altering gift, and I want to spend my life giving it.