The Blueprint for Real-Time Connection

I was six years old, standing in a first-grade classroom, and just heard my teacher tell my parents something no kid should ever hear…
The year was 1987.
My parents were chasing a new dream in a new town: opening a Wild Birds Unlimited store while my dad hung up his dentist’s coat and took a swing at retail.

On my first day of first grade, my teacher placed me in the highest reading group.
My stomach dropped.

I couldn’t read.
Not the big words.
Not the small ones.
Not a single sentence.

So she bumped me down.
Then down again.
Then all the way to the bottom.
Top group to lowest group in a single week.

And then came the moment that tattooed itself on my heart.
I watched my parents stand in the hallway.
I watched my teacher shake her head.
And I heard the words…

“Joe needs to go to the LD class. And you really need to lower your expectations of what he will be able to do.”

It felt like someone reached into my chest and shut off the lights.
For a moment, that was all I could see.
But while I felt small, two women were already seeing something bigger in me...

My mom, Margie.
And the LD teacher, Ms. Conaway.

They didn’t buy the label and they didn’t rush to fix me.
Instead…
They got curious.
They paid attention.
They studied me.
They noticed what lit me up.

Sports.
Baseball cards.
Anything with stats, players, or a box score.

So they built a whole world around that.

Suddenly reading wasn’t worksheets.
It was packs of ‘87 Topps baseball cards. The ones with the rock-hard gum inside.

If I nailed an assignment, I got a pack.
Inside every pack was a little biography on the back of each card.
And that’s where the magic began.

Ms. Conaway would make me read those card backs out loud.
I didn’t even realize she was tricking me into advanced reading.
I was too excited to learn about my favorite players.

At home, my mom kept the momentum going.

I’d spread my cards across the old green linoleum kitchen floor while she cooked dinner in our duplex.
She’d ask, “Who’s your favorite player today honey?”
And I’d read to her again.

Then Ms. Conaway introduced me to what felt like a world I wasn’t supposed to find yet.
The sports page.

I’d wake up early, steal it off the porch, and try to decode the sports section before my dad got to it.

I circled words I didn’t know and would ask for help.

But sentence by sentence, day by day, something shifted.
My reading didn’t just improve.
It exploded.

They noticed my spark.
They understood my wiring.
They built a bridge from where I was…to where I could go.

And here I am at 45…
The guy people ask for book recommendations.
The kid who “couldn’t read” became a “reader”.

All because two women cared enough to SEE me.

When you see someone for who they really are…
when you understand what makes them tick…
you create unstoppable momentum.

A teacher once told my parents to lower their expectations.
Two women refused.
And that choice changed the trajectory of my life.