Published On: February 10th, 2015|

The Huffington Post – Liz Frank

“Allow me to go all Sophia Petrillo on you, with a Picture It: February, 1989. A young me heads to the car on a frigidly cold day (I grew up in Buffalo, New York). For months, I was struggling in history, so I did what most sixth graders do. I kept it to myself, hoping the problem would just go away. Sound familiar? Turns out, the problem didn’t go away, and that afternoon I had no idea what I was in for. My mom was flustered. Scratch that. She was super pissed. Why? She received a warning card in the mail earlier that day. I had a D in history. Yikes. Good thing we lived close to school because the ride home was a yellfest. I got more than an earful, with several “you’d better get it in gears” to boot. I was sentenced to three months of sitting at the kitchen table, from 5:30-7:30 every night. Yep, every night. Reading the world’s most boring history book. It was ineffective, stressful, and heaven help her, all Mom, who struggled in school herself, knew to do.”(more)