Grade School
My earliest memory of wanting to be a writer traces back to my grade school years. I was fortunate to have many wonderful teachers, each with their own approach to education. Some were more interactive than others, but every one of them left an imprint on my learning. However, one teacher stands out most vividly—my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Sheila Keating.
Mrs. Keating cultivated my deep appreciation for books, reading, and the magic of storytelling. Each teacher had their methods for engaging students, but hers were both direct and profoundly effective. She encouraged us to stand at our desks and read passages to the class from the books we were studying. It was a simple yet powerful exercise—one that revealed the emotions hidden within the words and transformed the act of reading into something visceral and deeply personal. She then encouraged us to write short notes about the book passages that the other students were reading. This increased our attention to the dynamics of plot, dialogue, story arcs and character development as the reader was perceiving it.
Under her guidance, I devoured literary classics: *Dracula*, *20,000 Leagues Under the Sea*, *Sherlock Holmes*, *Frankenstein*, *Treasure Island*, and many more. Her class reshaped my understanding of books, turning them from mere stories into living, breathing experiences. Many students found their literary voice within those walls, and I was among them.
Each book led me to another, and yet another. Mrs. Keating’s insistence that we read aloud helped us discover not only the beauty of literature but the power of spoken words. While some shy students may have hesitated, I now realize how her methods unlocked our minds, teaching us to embrace language in a profound way. It was in that classroom that I knew—I wanted to be part of that world of expression.
To Mrs. Keating, I owe my gratitude. Thank you for revealing the soul of storytelling.
We who are about to write salute you.