Page 20 of Rescuer
She thought for a second. “I still have fifteen minutes. I’m going to drop these off in my room. Are the regular ed teacher and the principal here too?”
“Mrs. Tarr isn’t in yet. Linda Bush is the regular education teacher you invited, right? She’s here.”
Mia nodded. They couldn’t hold the meeting without Karen Tarr, the principal, so she had a few minutes. “Great. Let me drop these off in my room, then I’ll be right there.”
Mia turned and pushed her back against the office door to force it open. The temperature shot from the seventy-two degrees that the office air conditioner had been set at to eighty-five. Within seconds, tendrils of hair were plastered against her skull, and sweat dribbled down her back under her sleeveless dress.
Inside the classroom, she dropped her belongings next to her desk. She reached for her computer and the files for Senta Dodge, the student. Her hand paused in midair. There was the pamphlet for the foundation! A glance at the clock told her she didn’t have time to deal with it right now.
She grabbed her computer and the folder of documents she’d compiled for the meeting and sprinted down the hall, her heels echoing like drums. She still had seven minutes. She bypassed the office and entered the conference room, fixing a calm smile on her face. Mia had attended many IEP meetings since she started teaching six years ago. However, this was only her third year at Renegade South High School, and she hadn’t met these parents yet.
The student, Senta, gave her a small smile. Mia smiled back. “Senta! I’m glad you came to the meeting.”
The student flushed, but her smile widened. “I’ve never been to one before. They seem boring.” She rolled her brown eyes. “But you told me it was important that I ad…ad…what was the word?”
Mia settled into her chair. “Advocate.”
“Yeah, that I advocate for myself.”
“Good afternoon.” Mia flashed her smile at those around the table. “Mr. and Mrs. Dodge, welcome to high school. I’ll be Senta’s learning support teacher this year.”
“Senta has been looking forward to high school.” Mrs. Dodge played with her purse strap. “I couldn’t believe it when she said she wanted to attend this meeting. We worry about how she’ll manage college with a learning disability.”
Mia leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. This was what she loved about these meetings. Really getting to know families and seeing what mattered to them. “I’m so happy to see her here! I haven’t had her in my class yet, but I talked with her previous teachers. She is a very bright student.” Her eyes flashed to the girl. “Having a learning disability doesn’t mean you’re not smart. It just means you learn differently.”
“College?” Mr. Dodge asked, his deep voice soft. “Is that possible?”
Mia’s heart broke for this family. She could almost see the trail of broken dreams in their faces.
“Senta, do you want to go to college?” Mia asked quietly.
“More than anything.” Senta’s eyes glistened.
Mia nodded. “Then we’ll put that down as your transition goal. There is no reason why you shouldn’t be able to do that. It might take a little more work for you, but it is definitely achievable.”
For the next thirty minutes, the team hammered out Senta’s plan. As the family stood to leave, Senta ran around the table and hugged Mia. “Thank you, Miss Turner! I’m so glad you convinced me to come.” Hope drenched her voice.
Moments like these were why Mia had gone into teaching.
Her stomach grumbled. She’d gone home at lunch and completely forgotten to eat. She glanced at the clock. Her next meeting wasn’t until three. She had time.
When she entered her room, she found Kim and Jill, the one-on-one aide and the classroom aide assigned to her class, opening boxes.
“I didn’t know you girls were coming today. You don’t have to be here until next week.”
Jill laughed. “Girl, like we’d leave you to put this place together. Of course we came. Besides, Kim has pics of her new grandbaby.”
“Oh! I want to see those! I’m ordering from Sacha’s Subs and Salads. Want something?”
“Always,” Kim responded. Jill nodded.
Mia called in the order. “They’ll deliver in fifteen minutes. Give me a few? I need to do something.”
She grabbed the foundation pamphlet and left the room. It was hot outside, but she didn’t want anyone to overhear this conversation. She sat on a bench placed beneath an old oak tree and dialed the number on the pamphlet. When an automated voice told her to leave a number and a brief message, she sighed, leaned back against the tree, and waited for the beep. She made sure to speak slowly. Mia had often been told she spoke too fast when she was passionate or upset.
“Hi! This is Mia, um, Maria Turner. I served as a camp counselor during the July session in Renegade, Colorado.” She rattled off her cell phone number. “I have not received payment and would like to speak with someone. Thank you.”
She gave her number one last time, just in case it wasn’t clear the first time, then disconnected and headed back into the building.
