Jasmine Budak
Northern News Services

Yellowknife (June 24/02) - The morning isn't quite over yet. Sue Epp wrangles in the kids from outside, reminding them to say "excuse me" as they pass. There is still a math lesson before lunch.

Epp maintains she's no special teacher, she just does her best. - Jasmine Budak/NNSL photo

Sue Epp enjoys the one-on-one time with kids a smaller class affords.

The room is small and neatly cluttered. It's got all the trappings of a regular classroom -- chalkboards and shelves crammed with puzzles -- but it's the upstairs of a duplex converted into a school.

At the end of the month, Epp retires her teaching post at The Learning Centre, Yellowknife's only private, non-profit school for kids with learning difficulties.

After 12 years, she needs a break.

"I'm just tired and need a change and I think the children do too."

The farewell is bittersweet. Epp says she'll miss the kids, but she looks forward to rest.

"I love this job because it's something that's stimulating and interesting, but it would be restful to have a boring job for a change," she says.

Love of the job

Epp came to the centre in 1990 after teaching stints in the Netherlands (where she met her husband), Germany, Tanzania and Kenya. She says she learned everything from the school's founder, Beulah Phillpot, who opened the centre back in 1981.

The centre runs on tuition fees, privately raised funds and, of course, the tireless efforts of a few dedicated souls like Epp.

"Every teacher I have ever known puts in two or more hours a day of work (after class) on average, and works weekends and prepares over the summer and does professional development on their own time," says Epp.

But she says holidays and adequate pay in mainstream schools make up for the extra work. "I think (school teachers) are very well paid here," she says.

Epp's pay is nothing near that of a teacher in the general school system. She says the centre wouldn't exist if tuition fees covered a conventional teacher salary, not to mention costs of basic supplies and books.

Teachers who love the job willingly take the pay cut, admits Epp.

"No teacher at The Learning Centre has ever earned as much, or even near as much, as the starting salary for teachers coming straight out of school," says Epp.

"But on the other hand, we have these delightful children, five or six students to teach, and it's something that I feel strongly about. I'm lucky because I can afford the luxury of taking a lower salary to do a job that I love."

Epp says she disagrees with Yellowknife's mainstreaming policy which combines all students -- however disabled or gifted -- in the same classroom.

"(Schools) don't have enough support or enough money. I think politicians think it's a cheap way of avoiding having to pay for separate expenses," she says. "And so the school system is abused because it's supposed to provide all things to all people. It's not only supposed to teach reading, writing and arithmetic but also give social opportunities and moral training in many cases."

Phillpot calls Epp "adventurous" and says she brings her own special patience and understanding to the classroom.

"Sue has a huge sense of social responsibility," says Phillpot. "She was the lady with the chocolate cake and candles on every occasion."

Liz Baile, student services co-ordinator for the Yellowknife Catholic School Board, applauds Epp's efforts and persistence.

"She has a great understanding of the support required for these kids," says Baile. "She's gone above and beyond the call of duty to run an alternative environment for kids who don't function well in regular schools."

Nothing special

Epp doesn't regard her exertion as extraordinary or unique.

"I don't have anything special, I just do my best to help the students," she says.

"The reason I like to do this is because it gives you the opportunity to really work with each individual and find that key that fits the lock. It gives me such a thrill when I see the excitement of a child who suddenly says 'I've got it!' "

But not all kids flourish in the centre's environment. Epp says some kids aren't able to learn.

"You can't do it for all of them, there are some students that just won't be able to learn, but you can give them a safe place to be and skills that are useful, even if they can't ever become university students," explains Epp.

"You can help them to be the best that they can be even if that isn't competitive in the big wide world."

The centre doesn't distinguish between diagnosed learning-disabled kids and those who just don't fare well in large classes. They aren't learning for a variety of reasons, most of which Epp says are irrelevant.

"(Some don't learn) because they've been taught the wrong way, or it may be because they have a disability -- we don't make any distinction. It doesn't matter, they need to learn to read," she says.

Safe place

Most students in the centre come from good homes, says Epp, but a few of the foster kids have come from really bad environments.

"They have some of the horrendous stories behind them of which are none of my business," she says. "We leave the baggage at the door. They have a new place where there's no history."

Either parents or schools send or refer kids to the centre. Some have fetal alcohol syndrome, others severe learning disabilities. Epp says she teaches them the basics: math, reading, writing and good manners.

But most importantly, she tries to figure out how each student learns and then teaches in a way they can understand. Full-time students cost the school about $8,000 a year.

Tuition fees pay for teacher salaries and very basic supplies, but it's not enough to also cover rent and books. That's where fundraising comes in.

"The idea is to keep it affordable," Epp says. "We don't advertise and try to get students. We're providing a service, not a business."

She describes the differences between a public school class and her class as an "institution versus a family group."

Epp is adamant that parents are actively involved in the school. They help fundraise and take turns cleaning the classroom weekly.

"If parents aren't supporting the child, I can't teach the child," she says.

Although Epp says she needs a breather from the strains of teaching, she's not ready to quit work altogether.

"I'm going to work, but I haven't decided what to do yet," she says. "I'm not necessarily giving up teaching, it's what I do best."

Perhaps a job less physically and emotionally taxing might be next for Epp.

"I hope to do something that has lunch hours and when you go home, you don't think about it until you get to work the next morning," she says.