Peggy Orr was my high school English teacher from grades 9 through 11. She was also, I believe, the first teacher to recognize that I was not lazy or careless, but that I had special needs. She never came right out and suggested that I had a learning disorder. ADD wasn't even yet part of our vocabulary in that small town rural school. Yet where all of my other teachers sang a constant chorus about "potential" and "laziness" and "underachiever who'll never amount to anything," Mrs. Orr seemed to intuit that all I needed was a little patience and understanding, along with a lot of help with organization and prioritization. Consequently, she was the first teacher to make me believe that I truly did have potential, and that with the right strategies I was capable of realizing it. Soon after my English grades started to rise, the rest of my grades followed. Mrs. Orr didn't throw up her hands and give up on me. She pushed, and pushed, and pushed some more until I got it through my beaten-down head that I could be a good student, and that I could succeed at life. I owe her a lot. I don't think she ever knew just how much. Hopefully, now she knows. Hopefully, she'll be well rewarded for it in the afterlife.
Mrs. Orr died on Saturday of cancer complications. She was 60 years old. She was the coolest teacher I could have hoped to have. My thoughts and prayers are with her family.
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