Page 2 of Sweet Courage

The bright-eyed girl flashed a toothy grin. “What color do I get?”

“Green.” Kat retrieved a small laminated card from her desk drawer.

The young child studied it with great seriousness. “So I’m visual.”

“That’s exactly right. You can learn a lot of ways, but written words are your favorite.”

Somehow that smile widened. “I love reading. My brother says it’s silly but I know it’s not.”

Truth was that Emma was one of those children who would excel no matter how she was taught, but her strengths were visual and it pleased Kat to no end seeing that the child’s self-confidence was strong and secure. The girl took the card with both hands, the way children accepted things they considered important, and trotted back toward the hall door without looking where she was going. Kat watched Emma disappear around the corner, card held out in front of her like a small torch.

Taking a moment, she scanned her new learning lab, a sense of pride filling her chest like a feather-fanning peacock. Technically, the space had been little more than an oversized storage closet. All the transformation had taken was a few coats of paint, a lot of elbow grease and a little imagination. Now, the learning-styles project she’d won a state grant for was moving forward and finally making tangible progress.

Before filing Emma’s results away, she reviewed the contents. Visual primary. Auditory secondary. No dominance conflicts. Clean profile. She wished every child’s file could be this straightforward.

A light rap on the door had her looking up. Jess Sweet popped her head in the slightly open doorway. “Got a minute?”

“Of course.” Kat knew exactly why Jess, a teacher’s aide at the elementary school, was here. She had told Kat of her concerns with her son Mason’s grades and the struggles with homework and tests, so Kat had tested him earlier in the week even though there were two more classes to be tested before his. She’d left Jess a note in her box that Mason’s results were in.

Kat waved an arm toward the one corner of the small room and a comfortable loveseat she’d pilfered from a garage sale along with a low-light reading lamp. The room was set up for different styles. In one area cozy seating and soft lights for those who preferred comfort. In the opposite corner, a desk and chair with bright barrister lamp for those who needed structure. She even had multiple classical music tapes for the students who needed noise to learn. “Let’s sit where it’s more comfortable.”

Following the direction of Kat’s finger, Jess sat at the loveseat.

“As you know, from my note, due to your concerns about Mason falling behind in his class work, I went ahead and tested him early.”

Carson Sweet’s wife nodded.

Kat had grown up with all the Sweet kids and felt a connection with Jess even if she’d only come to live in Honeysuckle about a year ago. “I think I may have some news for you.”

Lips pressed into a thin line, Jess remained quiet. Her entwined fingers, neatly folded in her lap, the only sign of nervous anticipation.

“Mason’s preferred learning style is visual. His secondary is kinesthetic.”

Jess’s mouth twisted and her gaze narrowed.

“Something wrong?” Kat asked.

“I was remembering in kindergarten. I was told he couldn’t count past twelve. Thought that was insane. He counted to one hundred all the time. Then his teacher explained that he never remembered thirteen so they couldn’t consider him able to count to one hundred.”

“Interesting.” Kat nodded. She’d seen small signs like this many times.

“Since he loved playing with balls, I grabbed a basketball and we started bouncing it back and forth to each other, counting every bounce. I started out so that I said thirteen, then after that he started so he’d have to shout thirteen. We did this for about twenty minutes and after that he never forgot to say thirteen again.”

“That’s an excellent example of kinesthetic learning. Easier to remember when you’re in motion. It’s why boys’ schools tend to have more hands-on learning and fewer lectures because most boys have a tendency toward kinesthetic at some level. You’ll also find that if you tested most Emergency Room physicians and nurses, they’d most likely be kinesthetic primary learners. The ones in research would probably be visual.”

Jess nodded, processing the information.

“Mason has what we call mixed dominance. In his case, he’s right-handed, but he’s left eye dominant. Ever notice when he’s trying to see something more clearly he might close his right eye?”

“Sort of. He has a play telescope and always puts his left eye to it. I noticed, but didn’t give it any thought.”

“Exactly. Mixed dominance is a red flag of sorts. I took a look at his grades compared to his IQ scores. The gap of where he is and where he should be tells me there’s a potential problem.”

Jess remained very still. The kind of still that meant she was doing mental inventory—running back through years of homework and reading time and parent teacher conferences. “Carson and I discussed the possibility that he had some kind of undiagnosed learning issue, but Mason’s teacher seems to think that he’s just young and needs time to grow. He’s so good at drawing and sports and doesn’t need time to grow with those, but reading? He loves when we read to him, but reading on his own… he avoids it like the plague.”

“I’m not surprised. Mason has a fantastic memory. What little he does read, isn’t really reading, it’s repeating what he’s memorized.”

“I don’t understand.” Jess’s gaze narrowed again.