“We are going to have a normal afternoon and then a not-normal afternoon,” Lower School Teacher Laura Balabushka informs her third grade classroom. Standing at the whiteboard, she reminds her students of the work they need to accomplish and the necessary decorum — “I’m looking for steady bodies and quiet voices” — before turning on a musical playlist to set the mood. The students intently study vocabulary, do math problems, and practice typing; Balabushka walks around the room, checking on her students, offering encouragement, and coaching the ones who need some help. With acoustic guitar instrumentals playing in the background, her classroom feels like a particularly motivated coffee shop, albeit one populated by nine-year-olds.

What makes teaching third grade different from teaching any other year?

I love third grade. I taught fifth grade here for four years, but I was waiting for a third-grade position to open up. Third graders finally make the transition: they know how to read and they have a lot of math foundations, so you get to use that with them. And they’re so joyful: they love their friends, they love recess, they love being at school. It’s also when they begin to notice the people around them — “So-and-so finished their math test 20 minutes before me. What does that mean?” — so that’s one of the challenges.

Did you always want to be a teacher?

Yes, I was that person who was babysitting since I was 12 years old. I come from a long line of teachers and nurses: we’re all caregivers. Even as a teenager, I knew how amazing children are and that they weren’t just cute. I taught dance, I taught swim lessons, I taught synchronized swimming.

Synchronized swimming?

I know it’s not a normal thing in most towns, but when I was growing up in Greenwich, Connecticut, all the summer swim clubs had a swim team, a water polo team, and a synchronized swimming team. When I was a teenager, I got hired by one club as a lifeguard and the coach of their synchronized swimming program. Granted, it wasn’t Olympic level. We had one move called “the clam” where you just put your legs and arms together. 

You lived for years in New York City — what’s the most New York thing about you?

I talk really fast and really loud when I’m talking with adults. When I talk to kids, I have a good normal teacher voice. And I’m very picky about pizza and bagels.

Did you click with Latin right away when you started working here?

Yes and no. My first year was 2019–2020, so I didn’t get a full year. But I immediately found what I was looking for, which was a community of colleagues. Latin is so welcoming to new teachers and new families. Every year when there’s new students in the class, you would never know six weeks later that they’re new. The kids just envelop them. My own daughter came home from school and said, “Kids are really nice here.”

Since you were a teacher before you were a parent, did that color how you approach being a mom?

No, it’s actually the opposite — I’m a different teacher since having children. Part of it is having two completely different children. In my home I need to parent two kids differently, and I bring that knowledge to school: I have 24 kids who I might need to teach differently at certain times. What I do for one isn’t going to work for another.

Tell us about a book you loved recently. 

Historical fiction has always been my genre, ever since I was a little kid reading American Girl doll books. Kristin Hannah writes amazing historical fiction: I loved her book The Nightingale, about World War II, and she wrote a book about the women serving in Vietnam, The Women, that just destroyed me.

Does your love of historical fiction inform how you approach social studies?

I think so. Often in that genre, you’re hearing from different perspectives. That informs how I teach social studies, because I think it’s interesting to learn about things that you weren’t a part of. When I was teaching Ellis Island, I was so amped up: I was joyfully stomping around the room, telling the kids, “Imagine you have to pack everything you own into just a few bags because you’re traveling on this ship. You don’t know the language and people are yelling at you in English. What could that be like?” And the kids remember every single thing from that lesson.

Did you have family come through Ellis Island?

Yes, my dad’s parents came from Italy. My dad didn’t learn English until he went to kindergarten: he lived in an Italian neighborhood in the Bronx. My Nona was a seamstress and my dad’s father was a carpenter. He worked on the World Trade Center.

How’s your Italian?

I’m a generation removed, so my parents weren’t speaking the language in the home. I can’t speak it very well, but my accent’s great.

Tell us about a day this year that brought you joy. 

One thing I love about teaching in the Lower School is that I can lean into whatever the group is interested in: I can say, “Whoa, we’re going to pause the math lesson because this is awesome.” This year my class got really into drawing, so we ordered them special sketchbooks that they can use whenever they want. One day my students asked me, “Can we have an art club?” I said, “Yes, we can definitely have an art club, but what does that mean?” They said, “Well, everyone can submit art and we can display it on the back wall.” Okay, great. A couple of minutes later, somebody said, “Can we have a book club?” I said, “Yes, we can have a book club. What does that mean for you?” They said, “Well, whenever we have free choice time, can we sit and read our books together and talk about books?” 

By the end of the period, my whole back wall had all this art and signs for all these clubs. As a class, we went to the back of the room and everybody shared what they were doing. I tell parents and kids that the most important thing to me is that we are a community, so you feel safe in our classroom to take risks and be yourself. If we don’t do that, you won’t get the academics, because you won’t raise your hand in math when you have a question. We spend so much time building community in our room.