School communities have a way of shaping families as much as they shape students.
When my kids were young, I wanted to be present for everything, to understand every assignment, every challenge, every friendship shift.
As they got older, I learned how to step back and trust the people who were with them during the hours I could not be. Teachers became extensions of that trust.
When my children started elementary school, Wesley Prep’s classrooms were small by design — about 15 students — which meant no child could slip through unnoticed. It also meant no parent could remain at a distance for long.
We were in it together: teachers, students, and families moving through the years as a shared project in growing up.
Those relationships formed a framework around our family life. The teachers were not separate from parenting — they complemented it. They supported the bond between parent and child while making space for independence to take root.
For over a decade, as our sons moved through the school, we came to know a long line of teachers dedicated to our children’s development.
I felt fortunate then. Looking back now, I am especially moved by the steady mentors whose calm wisdom protected my motherly instincts as though they’d already walked that road many times before I did.
Among the impactful mentors, one became a touchstone.
Sue Herring set the standard. She saw more in each child than they yet could see in themselves, and she made that vision feel possible. (See Page 26 for her full story).
There were countless fifth grade moments that felt less like school and more like community. Her classroom was filled with laughter and sticky fingers as parents joined students in carving pumpkins, roasting the seeds, and building scenes from Dickens novels. Field trips stretched far beyond textbooks, including a multiday class retreat in the Arbuckle Mountains.
Wesley Prep gave our family a shared history with the people who helped shape our children. Ms. Herring guided our sons through a formative period of development. For that, I will always be grateful.
What she gave me, something I didn’t know I needed at the time, remains with me as well.
Every so often, my son’s perceptive fifth grade teacher would pull me aside and reassure me that I was getting it right.
For a young mom, that meant everything.
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