A letter to the sons of my great-aunt Auntie
My great-aunt Auntie (real name Viola) died this week. She was a teacher in a one room schoolhouse. She was 99.5 years old. As you can tell, she gave me a very important gift--she taught me how to learn. Below are portions of the letter I sent to her sons. ---- I am saddened that I did not share the contents of this letter with Auntie personally. When in elementary, school was very hard for me. Even after much reflecting, I have never really been able to pinpoint what my issues were. I was slow to read and slow to learn math. I did get some services in school, but additionally my parents had me see Auntie every Saturday morning for personal tutoring. I remember her house and my time there well—the cookies, the kitchen table covered in “learning materials,” the handkerchiefs, the math grids, and decodable books. I remember her patience when I became frustrated with reading hard words. I remember her catching me when I tried to add or subtract using my fingers under the table. Au
