• Susie Coughlin was concerned when her daughter struggled with reading skills at her public school.
• The mom of two was disappointed her district didn't teach phonics as part of its literacy program.
• She switched her child to a Catholic school where the girl thrived after being taught phonics.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Susie Coughlin, 43, an interior designer from Falmouth, Maine. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When our daughter, Carter, started struggling with reading, we thought it was related to her late birthday and the fact that almost everybody else in her class was a whole year older.

Her father, Paul, and I decided that she should repeat kindergarten in her public school. In her first year, she'd been put in a Response to Intervention (RTI) program to improve her literacy skills. However, at the parent/teacher conference during her second year, we were told she wouldn't receive RTI.

It didn't make sense because she wasn't progressing. Her self-confidence was low because it seemed like everyone else around her could read.

What I heard from the teacher was, "It's OK. We're gonna let your kid slide through." Being a child myself who was allowed to slide, I hit the brakes. At that moment, I thought, "My kid's not going to be the kid that's just going to slide through."

We had to employ a reading tutor

A key issue was the school district didn't teach phonics for reading. Instead, the kids are taught to scan the page for picture clues to the word — often at the expense of pronunciation and spelling.

For example, Carter wrote in her homework, "I went to the osen," rather than "I went to the ocean." The teacher hadn't corrected the mistake because the emphasis was on visual cues — a picture of the ocean — rather than spelling.

With phonics, you learn to sound out the word. It's a much more practical and efficient method of teaching literacy. It didn't seem like the district was going to adopt the method anytime soon. We had to search because private reading specialists are in high demand in our area, but we found a tutor for Carter.

She finished her second kindergarten year in public school before beginning first grade at a local Catholic school. It cost $10,000 a year, and we were fortunate enough to be able to budget for that.

We're glad we switched to a private Catholic school

The curriculum is very old-school, and they teach phonics. Carter, now 8, still has a tendency to look for picture cues on the page when she's reading, but she's getting there. It broke my heart when her confidence was in the toilet at her previous school. But her bucket of self-esteem is filling up.

We were so happy with the Catholic school that we sent Huddy, Carter's younger brother, there, too. He's attended for two years and has a good grasp and understanding of phonics.

In fact, at 6, he has excelled past his sister in reading because he has never been subjected to a nonsense visual cue program.

As for Carter, she has continued to study with a tutor at home, and we help her at night. The best thing is that she finally seems to be enjoying books and the written word.

Do you have an interesting story to share with Business Insider about the way that children are educated in school? Please send details to this reporter at [email protected]

Joshua McGoun, a K-12 public-school teacher in Frederick, Maryland, first noticed a change in his students about 10 years ago. They began to struggle with focus.

Increasingly, younger kids were not nailing basic reading skills before third grade — a crucial window. Those who miss it have a tough road ahead in middle and high school. Even adept readers in their tweens and teens have become afraid of complex or extended reading tasks and more comfortable with short texts or bite-size summaries.

McGoun, who has a doctorate in education, shared one stark example. With struggling readers, he hands each child a book upside down and backward. "They should be able to turn the book the right way up and open it at the first page," he said. These days, "some students aren't able to do that."

This is not unusual. Across the US, kids are struggling to read. Last year, reading performance for fourth graders hit its lowest level since 2005, and teachers expect that number to keep tumbling.

The panic to turn things around quickly is driving a wedge between teachers, politicians, and parents, all pointing the finger of blame at one another.

The Senate education committee, calling it a crisis, is pushing school districts to retrain teachers in a trendy new teaching style called "the science of reading," which has dramatically improved literacy in some areas (scroll down for more detail on that). Parents with resources to do so are moving their kids to schools that tout science-backed teaching styles.

Some teachers and policy experts worry this frenzy may have an ironic side effect, putting pressure on public schools to resolve a problem that cannot be tackled in the classroom alone.

"It makes the task of teaching harder," McGoun said, referring to new literacy programs and a focus on test results. "We're burning out at a faster rate, and it's causing a lot of apathy."

Gen Alpha kids, aged 2 to 12, need to discover the joy of reading, he and other teachers say. It's doable, but it's a more creative and slower process that many parents don't have time to wait for.

Teaching a 6-year-old to read is political

There has never been a golden age for reading scores in America. The record high was in 2017, when 37% of US fourth graders pass their NAEP reading test — just 5% higher than the most recent results.

Still, this new low raised alarm among lawmakers who were already concerned about screens and loneliness among Gen Alpha.

“The long-term implications will be dire” if literacy does not improve, Sen. Bill Cassidy, the top Republican on the Senate education committee, said in February. “We are at risk of having an entire generation of children, those who were in their prime learning years during the COVID-19 pandemic, fail to become productive adults if reading proficiency does not improve.”

His proposed solution? Get all teachers to use the same, evidence-backed teaching style.

Teaching styles have served as political footballs for over 100 years. The fierce, ongoing debate — known as the “reading wars” — dates back to at least the mid-19th century, when Horace Mann, then Massachusetts’ education secretary, slammed the alphabet as “skeleton-shaped, bloodless, ghostly apparitions” and said children should be taught whole words rather than their structure.

While teaching unions maintain that teachers should be able to draw from various teaching styles, it’s a tough sell with parents.

“Parents and others are getting upset about their kids’ literacy curriculum because they've heard that there's a certain way to teach kids how to read, and that might not be properly implemented in schools,” Carly Robinson, a senior education researcher at Stanford University, said.

Recently, the “science of reading” method (see chart below) has been touted as a silver bullet that transformed literacy rates in Mississippi between 2013 and 2019 — even in areas with high child-poverty rates, which typically correlate with lower literacy levels. It became known as the “Mississippi Miracle.”

In a February report, the Senate education committee said teachers who still used other methods — particularly the three-cueing system — were setting students “up for failure in the long run.”

TEACHING STYLES

In other states, parents want a Mississippi Miracle of their own.

Susie Coughlin, a mom in Falmouth, Maine, found herself going down rabbit holes about literacy techniques after her 5-year-old daughter, Carter, repeated kindergarten. Despite spending a second year at that level, the little girl had fallen behind in reading and writing.

One day, near the end of the school year, Coughlin saw a piece of Carter’s homework where she had written, “I went to the osen,” rather than, “I went to the ocean.” The teacher had not corrected the mistake because the emphasis was on visual cues — a picture of the sea — rather than spelling. Coughlin was appalled; spelling was why Carter struggled to keep up in other classes. The mom took up her concerns with the teacher, who, she said, defended the visual method.

Coughlin said that the impression the teacher gave off was that the school was "just going to let your child slide through." "So we hit the brakes."

Carter finished the year, but her parents elected to send her to a private Catholic school for first grade. In her new school, Carter was taught to “sound it out” — articulating the word as she read it rather than scanning pages for context cues.

Her progress was dramatic, Coughlin said. Now 8 years old, Carter thrives in her second-grade reading classes. “It broke my heart when her confidence was in the toilet at her old school, but her bucket of self-esteem is filling up,” Coughlin, who has since enrolled Carter’s younger brother at the same school, added.

Coughlin said her family was fortunate to have the resources to go private because the annual fees at the Catholic school are relatively low: $10,000 a child, compared with about $40,000 for secular private schools in Falmouth.

Forty-five states and Washington, DC, are considering bills that would retrain public school teachers in new, evidence-based reading practices. Susan Neuman, a professor of childhood and literacy education at New York University and an education official under President George W. Bush, said the bills represented “the biggest, boldest, and most inclusive effort to date to promote high-quality, scientifically supported reading instruction for all children,” adding: “We cannot fail.”

Educators are not so bullish about another initiative that requires retraining and devotion to new materials that cost hundreds or thousands of dollars a year, preventing creativity with the syllabus.

“The problem is that some school districts think: ‘We pay for this program, and therefore you have to use this program.’ You can't use anything else,” McGoun said.

While his school allows for flexibility, he’s seen panic take over in other districts, he said: “As a teacher, you can't even make your own materials. It’s because the school district attended a conference and learned about a particular program — they promised XYZ outcomes if you only use its resources.”

Nailing the right method is not a teacher’s biggest concern, McGoun said. “The most important thing an educator can do is provide good pedagogy by focusing on the student’s interests,” he said. “When you have motivated students, they will read.”

Kids are falling out of love with the written word

Students, McGoun said, have “fallen out of love” with the written word because the march of technology has made it seem “alien” and “outmoded” to them.

Parents know tearing a school-age child away from a phone is no easy feat. No matter what literacy technique you employ, the pull of screens tends to be stronger.

There are efforts to leverage technology to help with literacy. Some artificial-intelligence programs, already appearing in classrooms, listen to students read aloud and give them instant feedback on pronunciation and comprehension, an alternative to having students play a reading game for 10 minutes on their own.

Subtitles on TV shows have proved beneficial for early readers by presenting words on a screen that a child will read, sometimes without even realizing it — so much so that the actor Jack Black joined a campaign to promote subtitles to boost kids’ literacy.

Tara West, a former kindergarten teacher and the founder of the literary-coaching organization Little Minds at Work, believes the benefits of constructive tech could outweigh the harm of kids spending too much time on screens. “Kids gravitate toward anything that’s digital,” so teachers can take advantage of that, West said, adding: “Technology is going to go far.”

Getting teachers on board may not be easy. In a recent Pew survey of elementary-school teachers, 47% of respondents said they weren’t sure how AI in classrooms would influence their students’ learning.

Jeff Jarvis, a public-school teacher in Los Angeles, is skeptical about the tech method. Sure, it might work in small groups, “but you’d almost definitely be struggling to use it effectively in a large class with 25 kids,” he said.

Educational digital media is “often attached to visuals, not texts,” Jarvis said, adding: “They’re getting quick blurbs from Snapchat and TikTok but nothing in-depth.”

Teachers like Jarvis and McGoun say that, at the most basic level, kids should be surrounded by books to simply learn how they work — turning physical pages instead of swiping on an iPad, for example. That’s where parents come in.

Pavel Buyeu, a 43-year-old dad from Seattle, said that when his daughter, Liza, now 15, began to show a reluctance to read, he feared she’d miss out on the joy and satisfaction of discovering books as a kid.

“Liza and I are from different generations with different interests,” Buyeu said. Still, he said he would like to see her enjoy some of the books he loved when he was younger. “My favorites were ‘The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,’ ‘The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,’ and ‘The Little Prince,’” he told Business Insider.

Buyeu devised a “game” to make reading fun for Liza. He’d take his daughter to the bookstore and have her pick a title in return for privileges like sleeping in on weekends. The pair read and discussed the books before writing an alternative ending to the plot. Family members voted on a winner, which motivated Liza even more.

“Reading became a joy for her,” Buyeu said, adding that Liza’s reading speed and spelling improved, said.

Buyeu’s game speaks to the power of parental involvement — a luxury not afforded to every kid.

Parents with means are paying for tutoring

Learning to read isn’t just about getting a grade; it can reverberate throughout someone’s career and personal life. Want to vote? It helps to be able to read and comprehend complex material.

If not all students become readers in school, you will start to see “the haves and the have-nots,” Neuman, the former education official, said — people with the money to pay for extra help moving ahead in school and life, and those relying on public resources falling behind.

Kumon, a private company that provides after-school math and reading tutoring, has recorded a recent surge in its number of new students, with enrollment increasing by 56% between 2020 and 2024. The company’s methodology incorporates both meaning-based instruction and phonics.

Kalisha Brooks of Indian Land, South Carolina, enrolled her son, Corey, at Kumon when he was in kindergarten during the COVID-19 pandemic. She was worried that the disruption of the health crisis might set him back.

“I’d read articles about children being home and getting further and further behind,” Brooks said. So she bit the bullet, budgeting an extra $200 a month for Corey to have twice-weekly reading classes. She’s glad she did. Corey, now 8, performed above average in second grade and is now in third with a renewed confidence in reading.

Jessica Mercedes Penzari, a 40-year-old mom in New York City, can relate to Brooks’ dilemma. Her son Hendrix's kindergarten report card showed that he had dramatically fallen behind in reading within months. “It was a moment of panic,” Penzari said. “Once you fall behind, getting caught up is so difficult. I thought, ‘I’m slipping as a mom because my eye isn’t on the ball.’”

Penzari secured a private tutor — a special-education teacher who lived in her building. She babysat the woman’s kids in exchange for the typically $75-an-hour lessons. It proved successful. Hendrix, who recently entered second grade, is back at proficiency level and above grade level in some subcategories.

Children who have fewer educational resources find themselves a step behind their peers at the outset. Just 10% of multilingual students can read proficiently by fourth grade compared with 33% of fourth graders overall, the NAEP found.

Last year, Nichelle Watkins, who lives in public housing in Baltimore, told Fox 45 News that her fourth-grade son, Logan, still could not read and that they couldn’t afford tutoring.

“How is he supposed to be productive if he can’t read?” she said in the news segment.

“They go there to be babysat for eight hours and come home,” the mom added, referring to Logan’s elementary school. She said legislators — to whom she later wrote pleading for improvements — ignored the problem.

“I feel like they don’t care. It’s not their children,” she said.

What now?

Linda McMahon, President-elect Donald Trump’s pick to lead his Education Department, will have a mammoth managerial job on her hands if she is confirmed.

McMahon, a former wrestling executive who sat on the Board of Trustees for Sacred Heart University and served one year on Connecticut’s Board of Education, supports Trump’s plans to deliver funds for education directly to states, giving them the authority to choose how to spend the money. She’s sparked anger from some educators who argue her plans would hurt public schools. She has also been accused in a recent lawsuit of enabling sexual abuse of kids in the WWE. McMahon has denied the allegation, and the lawsuit is on hold while another court rules on the constitutionality of such cases.

In an emailed statement, Trump-Vance transition spokesperson Liz Huston told BI that McMahon "is ready to deliver on President Trump's agenda to restore America's education system and prepare our next generation for the future."

Robinson, the Stanford researcher, said teachers would need much more funding to implement all the new bipartisan reading policies coming through states. Still, it’s not enough to simply shower schools with cash — smart policies are key. “Just giving money without any guidelines isn't actually that helpful if you want it to be directed in a certain way,” Robinson said.

In the meantime, all of these moving parts have created a divide between parents and teachers, who point the finger of blame at each other. It’s easier to take on someone close to you than to tackle unanswerable questions, such as, “how much have screens derailed attention spans?”, and “how much education funding is enough to make a difference?”

Jarvis, the special education teacher in LA, said he understands parents’ frustration that something so fundamental to modern life now feels impossible. He agreed that federal funding for literacy programs is essential to stop reading rates from tumbling further.

In the meantime, he said that parents can make a major difference by engaging in reading with their children at home. Take your kids to libraries, the teacher said. Let your kids see you reading books at home, he added, to create motivation and a rich environment for “reading to flourish.”

“Put down your own electronic devices and read with your kids, even if it’s just for 15 minutes a day,” Jarvis said. “Let them read aloud to you and then ask questions about the text. It’s important to have parent-child time away from technology.”

• Sarah Burghard revisited her priorities after the death of her mom in 2023.
• The 56-year-old mom left her old life and moved to Indonesia.
• She leads a relaxed existence in a place with healthier, less expensive food.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sarah Burghard, 56, an interior designer from the UK who lives on the island of Lombok, Indonesia. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When my mother died in June 2023, I took some time out for reflection.

Suddenly, I was the oldest generation in the family and it got me thinking about where and how I wanted to spend the rest of my life.

I booked a flight to Indonesia, where I'd lived in the capital of Jakarta in the early 2000s with my then-husband and two sons. I spent a month processing my grief while soaking up the atmosphere on the island of Lombok.

I was struck by the warm smiles of the older local women. There was a joy in their faces. My mom had always been a positive person.

It made me realize how much age is respected on the island compared to where I'm from in the UK. I'd walk into a family-owned grocery store and the elderly matriarch or patriarch would be sitting at the counter, supervising whatever was going on. The younger people would ask — and listen to — their opinions.

I networked on Facebook to meet people

I returned home, feeling rejuvenated. It felt like every cell in my body had been refreshed through a combination of sunshine and relaxation.

I told myself that, if I could afford it, I'd try and visit Lombok once or twice a year. At 56, I wanted to ease into semi-retirement from my job as an interior designer, which I'd already been doing remotely since COVID.

Early last summer, I joined a Facebook group for people who lived in the small town where I'd vacationed. I asked if any expats or locals wanted to get in touch.

I was looking for social and business connections. To my delight, I heard from members including a real estate broker, a woman who ran a beach conservation group, and a bunch of yoga enthusiasts. I was excited to meet them during my follow-up trip to Lombok in August.

They'd already formed a vibrant community. There were meet-ups for activities like horse races when people would socialize and also talk about business and networking.

"What am I waiting for?" I asked myself. I decided to move to Lombok in October — as soon as my realtor found me a home. It's a two-bedroom villa, just an eight-minute walk from the beach.

The cost of living is cheap

Best of all, the rent was $2,500 a year. It was a no-brainer, considering my monthly mortgage in my home city of Bristol,was $1,260.

I moved as quickly as I could before the villa was snapped up by somebody else. I paid $250 for a visa that allows me to work from Lombok online and started consultations with my clients.

The cost of living here is incredibly low. You pay $6 for the same kind of massage that would cost $110 back home. I've paid close to $4 for a mango in a British supermarket. Here, they are 40 cents.

The weather is always around 85 degrees and I've embraced the great outdoors. I rent a scooter to get around for $180 a month and a full tank of gas costs just over $3. I realize that, along with many of the other expats who have settled in Lombok, I'm privileged to be in the position I am.

Some of my friends have told me I'm brave or inspiring for taking the chance of leaving the home that I've always known. But I don't view it that way. I'm embarking on a natural, next-step adventure in my golden years.

Do you have an interesting story to share with Business Insider about moving to a different country in later life? Please send details to this reporter at [email protected].

• Tracey Kahn, a single mother by choice, gave birth at 49 and 51.
• The younger girl is a tween, and the older will turn 13 next spring.
• Kahn, 61, has found parenting more challenging as her daughters have grown older.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Tracey Kahn, 61, a publicist and the owner of a fine jewelry company in New York City. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I'd always thought that being a mom was part of my life plan. But it wasn't until my mid-40s that I began to wonder whether parenting would pass me by.

My career had always come first. Although I'd had serious relationships, I'd never committed to marriage. But, in the late 2000s, I thought, "Oh my God, I don't have kids!"

I'm a hustler and have always gone after what I wanted. I had a full physical and was approved for IVF using donor eggs and sperm. It wasn't the easiest pregnancy, but my daughter, Scarlett, arrived three days after my 49th birthday, weighing a healthy eight pounds.

I was keen for her to have a sibling. As soon as I felt my body had recovered from the C-section, I did another round of IVF. Scarlett's sister, Eloise, was born in December 2014.

Motherhood was exhilarating. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have my own family at last.

Still, there were challenges. The worst thing was going straight into menopause the moment I stopped breastfeeding Eloise when she was 6 months old.

Raising my girls is more difficult at the moment

Despite the hot flashes and mood swings, I managed to keep up with the girls. There were times when I was exhausted because I constantly needed to catch up on my sleep. But, looking back, parenting a baby and a toddler was a cakewalk compared to raising a tween and soon-to-be teen.

The tougher years are going on right now. It's a combination of the girls approaching adolescence and me being in my 60s.

Scarlett is in seventh grade, and Eloise is in fourth grade. She'll be in middle school next year — the stage when children want their own identity and freedom.

It's certainly been the case with Scarlett, who turns 13 in the spring. She used to play with Eloise a lot, but she's now very sensitive and wants her own space and privacy.

I have to be thoughtful about how I speak to her because there's a lot going on emotionally. She's trying to find herself while dealing with school, friend groups, and boys.

When you're older, your short-term memory changes, but your long-term memory is very sharp. I remember sixth grade like it was yesterday. "It was the same when I was at school," I'll tell Scarlett when she talks about cliques. There's always going to be the geeks and the more popular kids.

But she doesn't like to listen to her mother, just like me at her age. She'll get mad and say that I'm too old to understand. We argue, and she calls me out on everything. I'm learning to back off and let her figure things out for herself.

I'm very aware of my advancing age

Meanwhile, managing the kids' activities is a full time job. Scarlett goes horseback riding and swims. Eloise plays lacrosse and volleyball. They love the arts. I'll take them to classes after school. They have sleepovers with friends.

It's non-stop. I constantly ask myself whether I can make it to another school function. I still want to enjoy things with my girls, but I'm slower than I used to be. I feel like I can't get out of bed sometimes because my joints hurt. I recently went to a field hockey game and met another woman my age watching her granddaughter play.

Late motherhood has made me hyper-aware of getting older. Scarlett has promised to visit my grave every day after I die. My sister said, "How can you talk about death like that?" But I find it endearing. It's better that the kids are realistic about the future.

People think it's morbid, but I have to think ahead. I'm a big planner and want everything set up for the girls in advance. I'll be in my 70s when they graduate from college. I don't know whether I'll be around to see them married. Then again, I could live to 95.

I cherish every moment

Eloise is such a sweet child, she gives me back massages at night. They're amazing. But I don't want her and Scarlett to feel I will use them as caretakers. I'll employ somebody to help me when the time comes so my daughters can travel and lead great lives.

In the meantime, I'm soaking up the joy of being with them. Every morning, I watch them go out the door to conquer the day. I'm excited to see them again at night. I want to know which poem Scarlett wrote and how Eloise did in her dance class.

You need perseverance to raise tweens and teens in your sixties. But the rewards are incredible.

Do you have a powerful story to share with Business Insider about parenting? Please send details to this reporter at [email protected].

• Nicole Velez weighed 244 pounds at her heaviest in November 2023.
• The 31-year-old who works in a members' lounge at a Florida airport struggled with self-confidence.
• A 60-minute outpatient procedure helped her lose over 100 pounds because it curbed her appetite.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Nicole Velez, 31, from Tampa. It has been edited for length and clarity.

My job is welcoming members to Delta Airlines' Sky Club lounge.

"Are you new here?" customers often ask. "No," I'll reply. "I've checked you in many times before."

They can't believe that I'm the same person I was 11 months ago. It's because I've lost 109 pounds after a non-surgical procedure.

My portion sizes are about a quarter of what they used to be. I feel full after eating much smaller amounts. My new figure has given me a lot of confidence and a new lease on life.

I tried every diet in existence

My weight has been up and down my whole life. I started dieting at 9. It was triggered by an unkind comment from a boy while I was rollerblading up and down a hill. "Wow, you're fat and you can rollerblade?" he said.

I went home and looked in the mirror. In my mind, I saw a large person staring back at me. I regretted raiding the fridge for pizza and eating sugary cereal with sweet, condensed milk. But I couldn't stop myself as an emotional eater. As I got older, I realized I could get through a 4,000 calorie meal and remain hungry.

Over the years, I tried every diet under the sun. In my 20s, I lost 60 pounds but regained it within months with an extra 20 pounds on top.

I suffered aches and pains, despite my young age. My back hurt. Everything hurt. I had to slide out of bed because I was too heavy to pull myself up.

Then, last year, at 244 pounds — far too heavy for my 5ft 6in frame — I was diagnosed with pre-diabetes. It was a shock. "I either have to change my ways, or this disease will kill me," I thought.

I looked for solutions on the internet. I chance upon the non-surgical procedure Bariendo, which cost me $11,000. It was approved by the FDA in 2022.

The weight came off quickly

Bariendo is an hour-long endoscopic that shrinks the stomach by 70%, causing a reduced capacity to take in food. The experts told me it alters gut hormone signaling, leading to reduced appetite and increased feelings of fullness.

I took one day off work and followed a clear liquid diet. I lost exactly 45 pounds in 45 days. Then I graduated to protein shakes and regular food, including raw, vegan meals. I make sure to drink at least a gallon of water a day.

The weight came off quickly. I now weigh 135 pounds. I went from a size 18 to a size 0 and had to buy a new wardrobe. Best of all, my bloodwork showed I was no longer pre-diabetic.

My confidence is much better. I have a good social life. I can swim and rollerblade again. I'm happier than I've ever been since that boy's thoughtless comment in 1991.

Do you have an interesting story to share with Business Insider about weight loss? Please contact this reporter at [email protected].

• I joined the Nextdoor social network service in 2021.
• It allows you to ask for help finding a missing pet or restaurant recommendations.
• I got a giant cabinet removed by a carpenter and my ice maker fixed by an appliance repairer for free.

Let's just say that my husband and I didn't share the same taste as the previous owners of our house.

We particularly objected to a giant-size TV and entertainment center made of dark cherry wood in our family room. We called it "the brown bus" because it looked like a British double-decker had backed into the wall.

The problem was that we couldn't afford to have it removed for a couple of years because of the cost of buying our home.

Then, in 2022, we decided we couldn't stand it any longer. We live in an expensive area and got quotes from contractors that were upward of $400.

"It'll take at least two days to dismantle because it's not screwed in but glued fast to the wall," one said.

We could have hired someone with a sledgehammer

But he added that the wood could be recycled. He said he suspected the custom-made furniture may have cost as much as $3,000.

"You could get someone to use a sledgehammer, or you might find a carpenter who wants the wood," he suggested.

I'd joined Nextdoor, the hyperlocal social networking site, a year earlier. I remembered seeing people asking for recommendations for service providers ranging from babysitters to electricians.

You have to join your neighborhood once in the platform so I was a member of the one that covered our town and nearby areas.

I decided to experiment by "advertising" the cabinet on the group and uploading a photograph. "Someone might want it," I told my husband. He was skeptical, thinking I was wasting my time.

Still, I wrote that it was up for grabs to anyone who could remove it for free. "Just don't leave a mess," I said.

I received a few inquiries, but as soon as I explained that the cabinet was attached to the wall with some immoveable form of superglue, they lost interest. I was about to give up hope when a local carpenter took me up on my offer.

It took him three days to painstakingly slice it from the wall and take it apart. Then, he carted the wood to his workshop, looking happy.

Since then, I've become slightly addicted to Nextdoor. I enjoy people posting unusual requests. One woman wanted to get rid of wooden shutters from her 100-year-old house. She offered them for free, and an artist who makes custom, decorative birdhouses took the lot.

I got my ice maker fixed for free

Another member asked people to send greeting cards to an older neighbor who rarely received any mail. Then, there was the person who extended a lunch invitation to strangers who were on their own for Thanksgiving.

But the act of kindness that surprised me most happened this fall. The ice maker on our refrigerator hadn't worked for more than a year. When it first broke, a clueless guy from the store where we'd bought it had charged us a $250 callout fee, only to say it was a lost cause.

Last month, I decided to give it another try. About a dozen Nextdoor members suggested names of appliance repair people, and I picked one at random.

I called him, and he asked for the error code. He said we didn't need to buy new parts and talked us through the repair on the phone. We eventually got the thing to work.

I asked if I could Venmo some money, but he refused payment. "Happy Holidays," he said. I couldn't believe he'd done the job for free. But that's the spirit of Nextdoor.

• Lena Bradley, 62, is raising her two young grandchildren despite mobility issues.
• The mom of four has been looking after kids for almost 45 years after getting pregnant at 16.
• She said her methods are consistency and structure. And, as times have changed, limiting screen use.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Lena Bradley, 62, a nursing assistant and student from New York. It has been edited for length and clarity.

The second of my three daughters got pregnant at 18. Family circumstances meant I'd raised my grandson, Kvion, 14, from infancy.

I've been raising his sister, Kylnn, 10, for four years. As their grandma, I didn't hesitate to step in because it was the right thing to do.

After getting pregnant at 16, I've been raising kids for four and a half decades. It's been longer than that because I babysat my younger siblings while my mom worked full-time.

I've always enjoyed having my apartment full of people, but as I've gotten older, it's become more of a challenge. It's noisy all the time and, now I'm in my sixties, I often crave some peace and quiet.

I'm getting older all the time

One of the main difficulties is my stressful job as a part-time nursing assistant in the intensive care unit at a hospital. I'm also in college studying gerontology. I'm always looking to better myself, and once I qualify, I hope to work as a social worker for the elderly.

Still, I'm getting older myself. I have arthritis in my knees. My grandkids like to ride about on bikes and scooters. This time of year, they want to go ice skating at Rockefeller Center or in Central Park.

People often ask me about my methods for raising children. I'm all about consistency and structure. It worked for me when I cared for my family at a young age.

I apply the same techniques with my grandchildren. We all sit down together for scheduled, regular meals. We interact and ask about each other's day.

My reward is seeing my grandkids safe and happy

Still, times have changed since my kids were little. Technology is everywhere. My grandson and youngest daughter, Johnia, 19, who lives with us, aren't allowed to bring their phones to the table. The kids' electronics are switched off by 9 p.m.

I satisfy their needs, but they'll earn some other stuff by helping with chores. Meanwhile, my reward is seeing this new generation safe and happy. They're such a blessing.

Another benefit is knowing I'm unlikely to be lonely in later life. Yes, I'm not getting me time, and I won't be jetting off somewhere by myself. My me time is going to the bathroom and having that bathroom to myself.

But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Do you have an interesting story to share with Business Insider about your role as a grandparent or being raised by a grandparent? Please send details to this reporter at [email protected].

• Abigail Weidmer moved to a new city and wanted her kids to find playmates in the neighborhood.
• She hoped they would develop friendships by playing on their block with other children.
• The mom found that kids rarely played outdoors in the area. She set up a play club to help them do so.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Abigail Weidner, 36, a mom of three from Billings, Montana. It has been edited for length and clarity.

My kids socialized with a lot of kids in our former city of San Antonio. They had friends who lived on our cul de sac and we'd meet other children in the park.

By contrast, when we moved to our current home in Billings, Montana, we found local kids weren't really around. We'd hang in the driveway to try to meet neighbors, but nobody was out and about. It made it hard for my two older kids — a 7-year-old daughter and a 5-year-old son — to make connections.

So, I took matters into my own hands and set up a play club called "Free Play Friday." I was inspired by Let Grow, a non-profit that encourages children to play independently without parents or teachers hovering over them.

I invited the kids of some moms I'd exchanged numbers within the neighborhood. It felt a bit odd reaching out to people I barely knew.

But I explained my vision from the beginning. The children would choose their own activities with minimal adult involvement. This would be a throwback to our childhoods in the 1990s and early 2000s when kids were less scheduled with after-school activities and often left to do their own thing.

The older kids help the younger ones

The parents stayed the first few times as we got to know each other. After a while, they dropped off their kids or walked to the club on their own. I took turns hosting with another mom.

It felt especially important for my daughter and another child her age to take ownership of their play. They helped the younger ones participate in things like pop-up art classes.

The older ones rotated as "the teacher" and invented various projects. Around Thanksgiving, my daughter prepared a turkey craft ahead of time. She cut out the pieces they'd need and walked them through the steps without my involvement.

Another time, one of the kids brought in some papers that were different colors. "Let's make them into flags," he said. The project was the kids' self-assigned activity that afternoon.

Other times, I've seen them setting up cones in the backyard to do sports like soccer or ride their bikes. They found a kite and ran around. It was refreshing to them because it was unstructured play.

I left the garage door open so other kids could join

Rules were kept to a minimum. No one could play in the front yard alone, and they had to clean up after themselves before they went back home.

It gradually became more natural for the children to interact without interference. We trusted them to work things out on their own and manage arguments. It fostered independence — a quality that will help them in the future.

Meanwhile, it was unseasonably warm this fall. I deliberately left the garage door open in case any kids who were passing by wanted to join in. It was a sign that we were a household that welcomed kids who wanted to experience the fun of free play.

Do you have an interesting story to share with Business Insider about your style of parenting? Please send details to this reporter at [email protected].

• At 360 pounds, Clark Valery felt less efficient in his role as a volunteer firefighter.
• The 38-year-old was motivated to lose weight after the death of a friend from a heart attack.
• He shed 140 pounds and is in much better shape to tackle fires in his town.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Clark Valery, 38, an assistant manager at a pharmacy chain and volunteer firefighter from New York. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Since I lost 140 pounds, people have not recognized me. They're shocked because they've seen me as super heavy, and now, within the space of a year, I'm much thinner.

One person only realized it was me when I started talking, and they recognized my voice.

My weight loss has changed my life. I am healthier and happier. Best of all, I feel more energetic and effective as a volunteer firefighter.

I didn't have weight issues growing up. In high school, I was active in football, wrestling, and track. But as I got older, I became bigger and bigger.

I didn't pay much attention to it. Still, looking back, I had unhealthy habits like eating late at night and piling my plate.

I had shortness of breath

My mom did most of the cooking — she'd make things like pasta and rice and beans — and I overate. Then, after she died from dementia in 2012, I began to eat fast food from McDonalds and KFC.

I'd order two Big Macs, 20-piece chicken nuggets, two large fries, and a soda. I'd go to my favorite Mexican restaurant and eat eight tacos. The portions could have fed four people.

My excess weight caused shortness of breath and a sense of being uncomfortable with myself. Nevertheless, in 2018, I felt motivated enough to volunteer as a firefighter in my town.

There was no judgment at the firehouse. They accepted me as who I was. I'd workout with the other members when we met twice a week, but my heart wasn't really in it. Still, I knew I was a good firefighter because of my endurance skills.

However, as time went by, I began to think I wasn't contributing enough. My biggest downfall was climbing ladders. I'd get to the ladder, and it would say the weight limit was 250 pounds. I knew I exceeded that.

I was concerned about a scenario in which I got stranded in a fire, and the guys wouldn't be able to pull out a 400-pound person. It wasn't fair to put them in danger.

The wake-up call came in 2023 when a friend died of a heart attack. Other people who seemed to be in good shape told me they had heart conditions. I looked at myself in the mirror. My family had suffered enough with the death of my mom. I had to change my lifestyle.

I eat healthier now

Thankfully, a friend introduced me to WeightWatchers. At 5ft 8in tall, I weighed 360 pounds. My friend motivated me by saying we could lose weight together.

We went to meetings every week. I was religious about it. I wanted to learn and educate myself. The point system was a major key for me. I realized I'd been eating the equivalent of all my daily points in just one meal.

I completely changed my diet. For breakfast, I'd have scrambled eggs on a whole-grain English muffin with a small piece of sausage.

Lunch and dinner would be something like grilled chicken with salad or vegetables. The best thing I did was substitute cauliflower rice for regular rice. I also stopped drinking alcohol.

My body adapted, and the weight came off. I recently started doing a full-body workout five times a week at the gym. I'll do at least 45 minutes of cardio, followed by weights.

I was delighted when I hit just over 220 pounds. It took 11 months to get to my current weight. My shortness of breath doesn't happen anymore. I feel more involved and impactful as a firefighter. I'm no longer scared by the ladder. The guys seem to respect me more because I take a bigger role.

My waist size has gone from 50 inches to 36 inches. I was a 5X, but now I fit a large. I'm still going to WeightWatchers with my friend. It's improved my social life because I've got to know other people in the group.

My weight loss has opened up a lot of opportunities for me. I'm a new man.

Do you have an interesting story to share with Business Insider about weight loss? Please contact this reporter at [email protected].

• Amy Speace became a mom for the first time one month shy of her 50th birthday.
• The musician underwent IVF and used donor eggs.
• She does yoga and meditates daily as part of her regime to be a patient, hands-on mom.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Amy Speace, 56, a singer-songwriter from Nashville. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When I was younger, I never wanted to have children. My career as a singer-songwriter meant everything to me. At 30, I got signed to a record label and became ambitious, touring all over the country.

Then, as I got older, my attitude to motherhood changed. "I'm so busy doing this and that," I thought. "What if I forget to have kids?" Then, at 46, I met my second husband, Jamey, now 50.

We tried for a baby the minute we were together. But we didn't conceive. We looked into adoption, but the cost was prohibitive. Also, it might have taken years.

Luckily, Jamey's company health insurance covered about 85% of fertility treatments. So we decided to try IVF. The doctors said my eggs were too old to be viable at 49, and we should choose a donor.

First, I had a full exam to check whether my body could carry a baby. I had surgery to remove some polyps from my uterus. Then, we picked a donor who had a similar profile to mine.

Her eggs were fertilized by Jamey's sperm, and I was placed on the hormones to get ready for the transfer. It took two attempts, but we were lucky enough to get pregnant in July 2017.

I took a year off touring after my son was born

The pregnancy was super easy. I did yoga throughout. We hoped for a natural birth, and my doctor said that would be fine. She said that I was healthier than many 20-year-olds.

However, the baby had other ideas. I was induced due to back labor but was told it could take 36 hours for me to be dilated enough to deliver. We opted for a C-section because I didn't want to go through all that and end up needing an emergency one.

Our son, Huck, was born healthy. I fell in love with him the moment he was placed in my arms.

We went through the usual thing of sleepless nights for four months when you can't see straight. But things got better. I played a festival when I brought him along with support from my mother-in-law. It was hard because I was nursing and pumping. I realized I would just be home with him and took a year off touring.

I was tired, but I don't think I got more tired than younger moms did. I remained active and meditated daily. My spirituality has made me more patient and calm. It's helped me deal with the reality that I'll be almost 70 when Huck graduates high school. I'll never see him when he reaches my age.

I also practice gratitude. I was not ready to have a baby until I was 49. Then, a miracle happened. It was the way my life was supposed to be.

Jamey and I went through a hard time during the pandemic, and we separated and divorced. We shielded Huck and our relationship is very amicable as we co-parent him.

I laugh about bringing up a 6-year-old during menopause

It took a while for me to find my group of similar-minded moms. I'd go to the playground, and it would be full of 20-somethings watching their kids. But I made a good friend through Huck after he started playing with her 5-year-old. I've also established a network of older moms who read my blog.

We often discuss the funny side, such as raising a little kid during menopause. Huck, now 6, has his own room, but he sometimes brings his blankie and crawls into bed with me.

I have unbelievable night sweats. Sometimes I have to change three times a night. I'll put my son back in his bed and he'll say, "Mommy, you're all wet."

Laughter is part of being in the moment. Whatever the future brings, we'll live our lives that way.

Do you have an interesting story to share with Business Insider about being a new parent in later life? Please send details to [email protected]

• Dina Winter-Robinson and her twin were homeless and constantly late for school at the age of 13.
• They were staying with an aunt who lived an hour away and had to take two trains to get there.
• The sisters were scared of repercussions and told nobody. But a thoughtful teacher put them at ease.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Dina Winter-Robinson, 51, a school kitchen worker from New York City. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Many people don't know how impactful they are unless you actually tell them. Sometimes they don't even have a clue.

I suspect my 8th grade science teacher, Mrs. Falcoff, never knew what a gift she gave to me — a desperately shy teen who barely spoke at school — by making me feel heard.

My twin sister, Gina, and I lived in the Bronx with our mother, a single mom, and one of our two older brothers. We had a nice apartment owned by a private landlord and everything was fine — until it wasn't.

I felt ashamed and told nobody

The landlord raised our rent, and Mom, a nursing assistant, couldn't afford it. As a result, we had to leave. My mom moved into a temporary place with her then-boyfriend, and my brother stayed with the family of his best friend.

Meanwhile, Gina and I were sent to live with Mom's sister, Auntie Marjorie, who lived in an apartment in Brooklyn with her two sons and daughter.

We loved our relatives, but it was a strain at times. The apartment had two bedrooms, and all five of us kids shared a room. Still, the most challenging part was getting to our middle school in the Bronx in the morning.

We took two trains, which was new to us because we hadn't been on the subway before. It was the mid-80s when people thought the New York City transit system wasn't safe. But I was more worried about getting to class on time.

It often took us an hour to get there. We'd miss the start of the first period, usually science, and I'd shuffle into the classroom with my head down, hoping nobody would notice.

My teacher helped us

I was embarrassed about our situation. I was also concerned that if anyone found out, they'd ask questions. I was terrified the authorities would get involved, and our family might be investigated and separated for good.

Gina kept our secret but there was a constant fear we'd be found out.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Falcoff was my favorite teacher. She was strict but fair, and the other kids respected her, too.

Even though I admired Mrs. Falcoff, my shyness meant I hardly spoke to her. Although I was academically strong, I hardly ever raised my hand to answer questions.

Then, one morning, while the other kids were leaving the classroom, she called me over. "What's going on, Dina?" she asked. "Why are you and your sister always late for school?" I was nervous, but I trusted her. "Gina and I are homeless," I said. I told her how we were not living on the streets, but it was hard because of the travel time to get to school.

She looked a bit shocked, but her voice was reassuring. I explained how we'd moved in with Auntie Marjorie and didn't know for how long. I said we were safe. "Could your mom call or write me a letter to confirm things?" she said. I felt seen and heard at last.

I'll never forget Mrs. Falcoff

Mom wrote the letter, which I gave to Mrs. Falcoff the next day. She must have had to tell the principal, but there were no repercussions. We did our best not to be late to school anymore, but we didn't get into trouble if we were.

Everybody pulled together to make things work, but Auntie Marjorie's apartment was crowded. There wasn't much privacy which was hard when you're a 13-year-old girl. To our relief, after seven months, Mom had saved enough to rent a new place in the Bronx.

It was great to be reunited. I spent the rest of my teenage years feeling happier and more settled.

I've never forgotten Mrs. Falcoff and the important part she played in my life. I often think of her and how much she'd listened to me and gone out of her way to care.

Do you have an interesting story to share with Business Insider about someone who made a big influence on you? Please send details to [email protected]

• At 5ft 2in tall, Diana Coello used to weigh 250 pounds. She was diagnosed with diabetes in 2022.
• The flight attendant took action by improving her diet and taking her little dog for long walks.
• She lost 80 pounds in less than a year and is able to keep up with her energetic, 6-year-old child.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Diana Coello, 46, a flight attendant and mother of two from New York City. It has been edited for length and clarity.

December 18, 2022. I'll never forget the date. I stepped on the scale at my doctor's office, and it registered 250 pounds.

"You've gained a lot of weight since the last time we saw you," the doctor said. My blood pressure was high, and after the blood work came through, I was diagnosed with diabetes.

It was scary. My mom had always been heavy-set and had diabetes. I'd seen how her health had gone down. I didn't want to follow he same path.

The doctor said that I was young; I had everything to live for with a loving husband and four-year-old daughter. He gave me the motivation to lose 80 pounds. I did it by changing my diet and walking my dog more.

I ate a lot during the pandemic when I couldn't work

Growing up, my weight had been normal. I'm 5ft 2in and, in my 20s and 30s, weighed around 120 pounds. I only put on 20 pounds during my first pregnancy with my son, Andy, in 2000 and lost it pretty quickly.

But, as I got older, bad habits crept in. I stopped caring about my diet and ate whatever I wanted. I gained 40 pounds with my daughter, Milania, now 6, and they stayed on.

Still, COVID was the main reason I weighed 250 pounds. I'm a flight attendant and was grounded for almost two years. It gave me an excuse to sit in front of the TV watching endless series on Netflix. I'd run out of shows. "What's coming out next?" I'd ask my husband, Kenny, 42.

I wasn't making healthy food choices. I ate more out of boredom than because I was hungry. I have a sweet tooth and would reach for cookies and cakes. Carbohydrates were my thing. I'd fill my plate with large portions of pasta.

I didn't exercise at all. I'd get out of breath trying to keep up with Milania. I never felt that way with my son because I had energy a couple of decades ago. I didn't feel good, and my mental health suffered.

My doctor referred me to a nutritionist

After a while, I told my husband that none of my clothes fit me anymore. I was a 2XL and didn't want to keep sizing up. But when I started having dizzy spells in the fall of 2022, it was time to see the doctor.

The diabetes diagnosis shocked me into changing my ways. He said I could reverse my condition if I took it seriously. I saw a nutritionist who guided me on how to eat healthier.

She told me to replace soda with water and substitute sugar in my coffee with Stevia. I ate proteins like grilled chicken and incorporated more vegetables. Kenny and I cut down on starches like pasta, rice and potatoes. I bought an air fryer and started experimenting with nutritious recipes online. I drank 64 ounces of water a day.

I had a headache for the first three days because I was so used to having so much sugar in my system. But I kept going.

I compete with my friends on our step count

As for exercise, my friend Dianne introduced me to WeWard, a free health app that tracks your steps and lets you compare and compete with other users. You track each other's progress, and there's some friendly rivalry. Our friend Angie joined in, too.

I walked my dog, a chihuahua named Bruno, a little longer than usual, building up the time from 15 to 30 or 40 minutes. I'd take another walk in the park after dropping Milania at school. I embraced the competition partly because I wanted to walk further than Angie and Dianne. After a while, I did 10,000 steps daily.

I no longer took the elevator in the New York subway and went for the stairs. I stopped taking the bus to places. I pushed myself and started to enjoy the exercise and being outdoors. My mood lifted, and I had more energy to do things with Milania than I'd done with Andy, such as bike riding.

I'm no longer diabetic

Kenny remarked on my weight loss, saying my stomach was shrinking, and he could see it in my face. It kept me motivated. Over a period of 11 months, I got down to 170 pounds. I used to wear a size 20 uniform for work. I couldn't believe it when I fit a size 14.

Best of all, I went from diabetic to pre-diabetic to not being diabetic at all. My blood pressure and blood sugar levels are normal.

I've maintained my weight for nearly two years. I don't deprive myself and will take a bite of something sweet whenever I want it.

Of course, Bruno has benefited from my lifestyle change. He looks forward to his longer walks — and I do, too.

Do you have an interesting story to share with Business Insider about weight loss? Please send details to [email protected]