After more than two decades in education — most of it spent teaching first grade — Bess Thompson wasn’t ready to sit still when she retired in 2022.   I appreciate the freedom of retirement,”she said. “But the educator in me wants to keep making a positive impact. There’s not been a year, since I retired, that I haven’t been involved with the district.”

Today, Bess serves as an Education Support Specialist at Lincoln School in Macomb, a role she describes simply: “I help get kids to school.” The title may sound modest, but her impact is multifold. Working closely with Mr. Bryan and Mr. Crosby, she reaches out to families when students aren't at school to offer assistance. Her partnership with the bus garage has been instrumental in the success of the program. “I’ll send a text in the morning if a student isn’t here,” she said. “Just a simple, ‘Hey, is everything okay? Do you need help getting them to school?’ Sometimes that’s all it takes.”

It’s a continuation of the work that’s defined her career: caring deeply about children and making sure they have every chance to succeed. Bess began her journey with MCUSD #185 as a reading interventionist and later earned her master’s degree and certification as a reading specialist. Throughout her 20+ years of teaching, she taught multiple grade levels as well as four years in special education. The students she met and the experiences she shared with them made every role especially meaningful.She finished her career in first grade. “I loved first grade,” she said. “Teaching them how to read — that light bulb moment when it all clicks — it’s magic. But what I’m doing now might be even more important.”

The work is deeply personal. “When I see a student who missed 22 days last year and only two this year, that tells me something,” she said. “It means the program’s working. It means they’re showing up, and when they show up, everything else can start to fall into place.”

She attributes much of that success to building relationships first. After visiting the Ron Clark Academy in Atlanta years ago, Bess began doing home visits to meet families of her first grade students.  She wanted to have a casual conversation outside of the school setting. “I was trying to establish a relationship and show them I cared.”That simple act of kindness has turned out to be transformative in her current position. “It’s not about being a truant officer,” she explained. “It’s about connection. When families know you see them and want to help, everything changes.“ I think the home visits, prior to the year starting, might be the key to the success I am seeing.

For some families, those conversations happen in driveways or on front steps; for others, on the phone. “Some parents are a little hesitant at first,” she said, “but others open right up. We sit and talk about their kids, their pets, their lives  It’s about building trust.”

That trust has measurable results. Several of her students who once struggled to attend regularly are now attending school on a consistent basis.

“They just need someone to remind them that school matters — and that someone’s paying attention,” she said.

Thompson’s perspective on attendance is shaped by her own upbringing. “I had twelve years of perfect attendance,” she said with a laugh. “In my family, staying home just wasn’t an option. But she’s not looking for perfection — just improvement. “We’re not trying to make every student a perfect-attendance child," she said. “We’re trying to help them build consistency. When they’re in the classroom, they have a chance to learn and to grow. You can’t replace that.”

The role was the idea of Lincoln School Principal Eric Bryan, who approached Bess about joining the effort to improve attendance and engagement. “He reached out last summer,” she said. “At first, I wasn’t sure, but he was patient and supportive. We figured out how to make it work.”

That flexibility — and Bess’s determination — have paid off. “When I look at the attendance data this year compared to last, it’s better,” she said. “We’re making progress. It’s slow sometimes, but it’s real.”

And though she’s quick to deflect credit, others see her impact clearly. “She’s the heart of the operation,” one colleague noted. “She doesn’t just call parents — she connects with them. That makes all the difference.”

For Bess, the reward isn’t recognition. It’s watching kids walk through the doors each morning. “That’s what it’s about,” she said. “If they’re here, they can learn. And if they’re learning, we’ve done our job.”

She smiled and added, “If your child’s at school and on time, you’ll never see me — and that’s just fine with me.”