I remember the night my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Borsavage, called my house to tell my parents how hard I was working to learn my multiplication tables. As she talked to my mom, my dad had me at the kitchen table waiting to scold me for what I must have done wrong. I remember him telling me that teachers only call when you do something wrong – not Mrs. Borsavage. My dad was so proud when my mom hung up the phone and told him all of the positive things my teacher had to say about me. As a teacher, I try to be the Mrs. Borsavage to each of my students.