Roll Call
December 5th, 2025
Photo: Char Elkin
Writer: Taylor Brecher
Editor: Maya Stone
The corner of my childhood room was picture perfect in a way only a six-year-old could design: eight American Girl Dolls arranged neatly at the foot of my bed in a semicircle, their hair styled and outfits carefully curated, were visible to anyone. I stood in front of the dolls next to a standing white board featuring the day’s “To Do List.” On the agenda was typically a read-aloud, math lesson, and grammar practice. And lastly, sitting upon my dresser was a stack of papers ready to be graded. Well, sort of.
Each afternoon, I followed the same routine– I would come home from school, drop off my backpack in the hallway, close my door, and transform my room into a classroom. I’d teach for hours, well, until later when my parents would call me down for dinner. I’d sit in my turquoise circular chair that rested beside my window, and reteach everything I had learned that day to my eager audience. Of course, they didn’t have much to add. But their participation was present in my imagination. The days I was feeling extra fancy, I’d pull out the poster paper and my prized possession: Mr. Sketch Markers. The Smelley Sketch Markers!
Even when I was tired, my enthusiasm never wavered, and I paused frequently for any “questions”. I would nod if a doll answered correctly and would then allow them to choose blindly from a bag of rewards. The projects and homework that I assigned were completed entirely by myself, on par with exactly what I was learning in school at the same time, reinforcing the lessons far more effectively than I ever intended. My attendance sheet always said “present”, but the learning was entirely, hilariously, my own.
I didn’t know it at the time, but these years playing “teacher” shaped my love for school and learning. My teaching was not just childhood play; it actually helped things click in my brain and helped to form a real study strategy. Teaching my dolls was never about being in charge or having power. Instead, it was a way for me to learn, process, and make sense of the world around me.
My parents noticed my independence early on in life. While most 6-year-olds wanted to go play with friends or play on electronics, all I wanted to do was teach my dolls. They sometimes worried that this little classroom of mine was isolating, but in retrospect, they see it differently, and I’m so thankful they never interfered. The isolation of my classroom was focus and confidence-building. It developed my public speaking skills and ability to understand, which guide me now.
In the end, the corner of my room became a training ground where I learned to trust my own voice. The teaching went on for a while, but by sixth grade, I realized it was time to pack the dolls away. However, I never got rid of them- they are still sitting in my basement to this day. They were such a significant aspect of my life and who I was becoming. The whiteboard was erased, and the markers dried out. Nonetheless, the habits and learning stuck. I continue to learn by teaching, and whether explaining a concept out loud or leading a group, I tend to trace myself back to that childhood classroom- with my eight dolls focused on all the insight I had to offer.
Part of me is still that kid full of curiosity and eagerness to explore new things. And that is the most important lesson I’ve learned- sometimes you become yourself long before even realizing it.
