I Am A Teacher 's Helper

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Growing up, I wasn’t expected to do much. I was treated with a delicate hand and placed in protective packaging. I began school when I was just two years old at the St. Charles BOCES school for children with disabilities. Due to my diagnosis of albinism, my family and doctors feared I wouldn’t be able to function in a public school. It took no time at all for me to excel beyond anyone’s expectations. I took the role of a caretaker almost immediately. I pushed the children in wheelchairs out to the play area and I was the first to jump at the opportunity to be the teacher’s helper. I took pride in being their for someone else who needed help. I still have a drawing that I made in 1986 during preschool of me as a nurse giving immunizations to children. When it was time for Kindergarten, it was clear that I was more than capable to enter the public school system. I switched school districts and continued to talk about nursing. This is around the time my sister met her best friend, Veronica. Veronica had Cystic Fibrosis. She was always at our home and came on most of our family vacations with us. My sister learned how to take care of her while we were away from home. During the middle of the night, Veronica would wake up with coughing attacks that were so terrible it was difficult for her to breath. I would go into my sister’s room and watch her perform percussion techniques. I remember thinking that I wanted to make her feel better and do whatever was in my power to help

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